Into the Dragonfire by Kara Lockharte

Into the Fire May 21 2019 with survey

Nobody in their right mind pays $600/month for a parking spot. And yet, here you are, sitting in Manhattan traffic in your precious car, questioning your life’s choices. Parallel to you, an old man with a cane is steadily making progress down the sidewalk faster than you’re moving. Is owning a car and living in New York City really worth it? A cacophony of honks rise from the cars up ahead, audible even through the closed windows, and you sigh. Still, traffic doesn’t move. Living here, embarking on a teaching degree, you could start a life free of your family’s weirdness. A new beginning where you could be judged for your own actions, and not by whatever your family did in the past. You’ve been so focused on the possibilities, you forgot the details. You hadn’t realized just how vehemently hostile the city was to cars. Parking, traffic, tolls, all of that add up, especially in Manhattan. Still, there’s no way you would give this car up. It had been a huge risk using that bit of your family’s magic to rig that giveaway. Plus it’s not like you live in Manhattan. Queens is far more reasonably priced, where you can still rent someone’s garage for just $175/month while driving for the GoRide app as a side hustle. An alert pops up on your phone. Someone has just hailed your car. There’s a momentary break in the traffic. You take the turn towards the address on your phone. The pickup is a rather large office building in the downtown area with their own sectioned area for car services. When your car pulls up, there are two men waiting in the pickup area. Who is waiting for you? [[A dark-haired man in an expensive suit.]] [[A rugged blond man in a leather jacket and jeans.]]

Thunder rumbles. Lightning flashes. You hit the brakes, annoyed at the stupidity of some idiot in front of you. You glare at the fucking diplomatic license plates in front of you. “Goddess of lightning,” he murmurs. You look for an opening in the traffic in front of you, even as you suddenly realize what he says. It has to be a coincidence. Lei-zi is a very obscure Chinese goddess. Still, why does he know that? What does he say next that startles you? [["That's a curious charm dangling from your rearview mirror.”]] [[“What did she tell you about dragons?”]]

The bundle of multicolored thunderbird feathers, sacred wire, and beads is not something he should notice. It’s invisible to most humans. Does he sense what you are? You consciously stifle a deep breath, because that would be strangely obvious. What do you say? You make your voice casually bored. [["It's a gift from my mom. A good luck charm."]] [["Supposed to ward off accidents."->"It's a gift from my mom. A good luck charm."]]

You swipe to reject. Immediately, a new name pops up. The dark-haired man approaches the car, phone still at his ear. He doesn’t pull the phone away when he addresses me. “I’m Daniel.” You glance at the name on your phone. “Looks like I’m your ride.” He gets in the car and resumes his conversation. “No, tell them four million is the final offer. If they won’t take it, we’re walking.” He shuts off the phone, staring out the window. In the background, a jazz cover of a popular hip-hop song is playing. You briefly make eye contact with him, via the rearview mirror. He’s got the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. It’s polite chitchat time, because that’s how you get better tips. What do you say? [[“Busy day, huh?”->“Looks like it’s going to be rain.”]] [[“Looks like it’s going to be rain.”]]

It’s too late to swipe, and anyways, he’s already walking toward your car. You pull up next to him and plaster on a smile you don’t feel. He opens the front passenger door (which is already annoying) and the scent of city summer, heat and industrial exhaust, rolls into your air-conditioned car. He pauses when he sees it’s you. “Hey,” you say, trying not to let your smile falter. You can see he realizes who you are. “It’s you.” You fight to keep the smile on your face. He took you out for a nice pleasant dinner, where he confessed that you were the first black girl he ever tried, as if you were some kind of ice cream flavor rather than a person. “But I’m also white,” you told him. “And Asian and Latino,” among others, which prompted him to exclaim that you checked off all his other boxes. And then he wouldn’t stop talking about how much he loved hip-hop music while trying to touch your hair, and wondered out loud if girls like you were better in bed than white girls because didn’t Asian girls have slanted— “It’s you,” he says, sliding into the seat. “Look at you. I didn’t know you knew how to drive,” he says with a leer. You don’t even know what to say. Is he being sexist? Racist? Or maybe you’re just being paranoid and ultrasensitive? Wait, does it even matter? You do not want to spend the next forty-five minutes of your life with this jerk in your car. What do you say to him? [[“I think I’m having car trouble.”]] [[“You should just take another car.”->“I think I’m having car trouble.”]]

He opens the door and the scent of city summer, heat and industrial exhaust, rolls into your air-conditioned car. He gets in the car and resumes his conversation. “No, tell them four million is the final offer. If they won’t take it, we’re walking.” He shuts off the phone, taps at it. Your dashboard beeps, now with your passenger’s photo and name. Daniel Gray. In the background, a jazz cover of a popular hip-hop song is playing. You briefly make eye contact with him, via the rearview mirror. Daniel Gray has got the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. It’s polite chitchat time, because that’s how you get better tips. What do you say? [[“Busy day, huh?”->“Looks like it’s going to be rain.”]] [[“Looks like it’s going to be rain.”]]

Just then a call for a new car arrives, his image and name and clearly visible in on the screen built into your dashboard. Daniel Gray. “But I guess I can take one more ride,” you say with resignation. “Thanks,” he replies. He gets in the car and resumes his conversation. “No, tell them four million is the final offer. If they won’t take it, we’re walking.” He shuts off the phone, staring out the window. In the background, a jazz cover of a popular hip-hop song is playing. You briefly make eye contact with him, via the rearview mirror. He’s got the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. It’s polite chitchat time, because that’s how you get better tips. What do you say? [[“Busy day, huh?”->“Looks like it’s going to be rain.”]] [[“Looks like it’s going to be rain.”]]

And as you glance at the charm, you realize the charm is glowing. And suddenly you realize that you’re seeing something you never expected to see. The West Side Highway. //Empty//. The fuck is going on? Something huge lands on the hood of the car. You swerve and hit the brakes. The car careens, the world spins and spins. Wrenching metal, shattering glass, the smell of gas and exhaust blinding your senses. And just as suddenly, it stops. You hit your head on the steering wheel and for a moment you see stars. You blink and raise your head, just in time to see the streetlights go out. Your vision flickers. What is that… THING in front of you? [[A giant yellow eye.->A huge serpentine nest of coils.]] [[A huge serpentine nest of coils.]]

Something punches the door behind you, and it flies off the car. Your door is wrenched off with a squeal of metal. Your passenger is tearing the seat belt off you. What the— He grabs your forearm and yanks you out of the car so fast he’s almost lifting you. He sets you on your feet. Shattered glass glitters in his hair, and his eyes are on fire. They are literally ON FIRE. “Run!” He disappears into the dark. You stand there blinking for a moment. Your hands are shaking. What should you do? [[You run.]] [[You follow him.]]

You run, but back to your car. There’s a Taser in there. There’s no way you can let him face this alone. Whatever the hell he is, he saved your life. With the door torn off, it’s easy to reach into the glove compartment where you also have a tiny flashlight. But the charm that dangled from the mirror? Gone. Your phone, though, is in one piece on the ground. You grab it, get out of the car. [[You run back towards the passenger.]] [[You swipe at your phone, trying to turn it on.]]

There’s no way you can let him face this alone. Whatever the hell he is, he saved your life. With the door torn off, it’s easy to reach into the glove compartment where you also have a tiny flashlight. But the charm that dangled from the mirror? Gone. Your phone, though, is in one piece on the ground. You grab it, get out of the car. [[You run back towards the passenger.]] [[You swipe at your phone, trying to turn it on.]]

All your life you’ve been told stories about the Others, the Dragons, who came to this world, fleeing an immortal monster, hoping to find refuge. But the Devourer followed the Dragons here and proceeded to hunt and consume your people until there were almost none of your people left. The Devourer who still hunts you now, the reason you can never use your magic. The Dragons may not have been your enemy, but they became so because of who they brought with them. But none of those stories prepared you for the sheer magnificence of the dragon before you. He’s like an elemental force incarnate, fire, magic with intelligence that is humbling. Watching the two beasts battle is a hideously mesmerizing sight. But... [[You should hide.]] [[You should run.->You should hide.]]

He stumbles, and you realize he’s hurt. “Get me where I need to go,” he says in a hoarse voice. “But we have to call the police.” “More of those things are coming. It will tear the police to meat if I don’t get home.” You gesture to the wreck of your car behind you. Fuck, that wasted magic. “In what car?” He waves his hand and a nearby parked car roars to life, the doors unlocking. You look at him, unsure what to do. “People will die if you don’t do as I ask.” Daniel rattles out an address as he sinks to the ground. You run to catch him, and fuck is he heavy. “No.” You shouldn’t be doing this. You should just leave him here even if he saved your life. Because once he regains his strength, he’ll realize what you are. Can you really risk that? [[You prop him on the ground. It’s too dangerous. You have to call the cops and walk away.->You take the car and hope to everything you aren’t going to be caught by trigger-happy cops.]] [[You take the car and hope to everything you aren’t going to be caught by trigger-happy cops.]]

The doorperson rolls their eyes. “It’s a SPECIAL fire.” “Right.” You throw him in there. The fire is so hot, it chars your sleeves. You throw him in there. Flames close around his flesh, and he sinks into the fire with a sigh. You suddenly get the strangest sense that you’re watching a moment that should be private, like someone’s surgery or something, so you turn away toward the doorperson, who is tapping away on their phone like they’re waiting for a cab or something. “Does this happen a lot?” you ask. The doorperson eyes you warily, as if considering when to wipe your memory. Heh, they can try. “Maybe,” they finally say. The heat in the room suddenly lowers by several degrees. Daniel is still in the fire with flames that are so high they cover his entire lower torso. Is that on purpose? You realize how ridiculous you’re being. You’re standing in a dragon’s lair, your true identity likely to be discovered at any moment, and you’re wondering why you can’t see his cock. “Notify the Council,” says Daniel. “A door has been opened.” The doorperson blanches and then glances at you. “What about her?” “She stays,” he says, his blue-gold eyes on you. The doorperson leaves. You fold your arms and stare at him. “So, what the hell is going on?” “I would think that you, of all people, would know.” A cold realization seizes your spine. He knows what you are. [[But you knew that already didn't you?->Fuck.]] [[Fuck.]]

Fuck. You’re speechless. Not because you didn’t already know there was a chance he knew. You have never ever spoken of your true nature to anyone outside of your family. Not for lack of trying. You tried to tell your best friend when you were seven and your high school best friend when you were seventeen, but there was a ward on you. Is the ward still there? Or does it not apply to Dragons? Your people have hated each other for millennia. You swallow hard. “What do you want me to say?” He narrows his eyes. Apparently he’s totally recovered. “Don’t play coy with me.” How do you respond? [[“I’m not,” you say.]] [[“So you’re telling me you normally get attacked by giant snake monsters with a gazillion eyes.”->“I’m not,” you say.]]

”I’m not,” you say. He laughs. Is that bit of flame escaping from his mouth? Would it burn if he kissed you? Why on earth are you thinking such ridiculous thoughts? “It would be more deserved if I didn’t need you to bring me here.” “What the hell was that thing?” “Something that shouldn’t be on this plane. You should tell your people.” Your people? Hold on. Does he think— You swallow hard. “My people? It’s just my mom and me.” “Don’t you Shen have some sort of hierarchy?” Your mind races. It’s said that Dragons can smell lies. Shit. You can’t tell him a lie, but you can’t tell him the truth either. So you settle for misdirection. “I don’t know any other Shen. It’s just my mom and me.” “I know, but surely—” He drags his hands across his face, as if he’s just remembering something. He sighs and steps out of the fire. You turn, averting your eyes to give him some privacy. You feel his hot touch on your cheek. You look at him. His eyes are hypnotizing, like flames on a dark, moonless night. His magic calls to you, to that place inside you where your own power has been hidden away. You could drown in his gaze. But fire, no matter how pretty, always burns. [[“Thank you,” he says.]]

Because of laws in various places restricting access to mature content, the explicit version of the story cannot be told here. [[Click here to continue the interactive Safe-For-Work version of the story.]] However, if you are over 18 and would like to continue reading the explicit version (which is NOT interactive), click here to verify your age. You’ll be taken to a special landing page where you can submit your email address to be emailed the rest of the story. [[Click here to verify you are 18 for the non-interactive hot and explicit version of the story; requires an email address to download.]]

“Both,” he responds. You stifle a sigh. It’s not the first time you’ve been asked this question, nor will it be the last. You decide to answer one question. With any luck, you’ll drop him off before he starts with the predictably inevitable ‘No, really, what country are your parents from’ line of questioning that always reminds you that to them, you’re an outsider. [[“My mother was a mythology buff.”]]

The dark-haired man approaches the car. His skin has that light brown tone that you can't tell if it's a tan or his natural color. You double-check his image and name on the screen built into your dashboard. Daniel Gray. Daniel opens the door and the scent of city summer, heat and industrial exhaust, rolls into your air-conditioned car. He gets in the car and resumes his conversation. “No, tell them four million is the final offer. If they won’t take it, we’re walking.” He shuts off the phone, staring out the window. In the background, a jazz cover of a popular hip-hop song is playing. You briefly make eye contact with him, via the rearview mirror. He’s got the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. It’s polite chitchat time, because that’s how you get better tips. What do you say? [[“Busy day, huh?”->“Looks like it’s going to be rain.”]] [[“Looks like it’s going to be rain.”]]

”Looks like it’s going to be rain.” You run through your usual questions in your head. Are they always so stupidly inane? Something about his eyes makes your words get stuck in your throat. He glances at his phone, breaking the eye contact. “Lei-zi Chloe Patel-Lopez,” he says, reading your name on his phone from the app. To your surprise, he says your Chinese name perfectly, as if he speaks the language natively. “Just call me Lisa,” you reply. His voice is casual, but there’s a hint of curiosity. “That’s an interesting name.” How do you respond? [[“My mother was a mythology buff.”]] [[“The first name? Or the last?”]]

Hairs raise on the back of your neck. Why was he asking about Dragons? It’s because of the Dragons, that the Shen, the magical natives of this planet no longer rule over humanity. But with the fall of the Shen came freedom for humans to choose their own destiny. Who is he? Does he sense what you are? Does he sense the magic you've tried to keep hidden inside you? You consciously stifle a deep breath, because you can’t draw his attention. What do you say? You make your voice casually bored. [[“Dragons? The usual. Scary monsters with teeth.”->Dragons? Not much.]] [[Dragons? Not much.]]

“Dragons? Not much.” “Hmmm,” he responds. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. Better to say nothing. And concentrate— A car cuts off your thoughts as you pull onto the West Side Highway. You hit the horn. “Hey! Motherfucker!” you yell uselessly at the driver in front. You start driving again. He is silent for several blocks, thankfully. “That’s a curious necklace dangling from your rearview mirror.” It’s invisible to most humans. You can feel the hairs raise the back of your neck. This man is not what he seems. You lighten your voice. What do you say next? [["It's a gift from my mom. A good luck charm."]] [["Supposed to ward off accidents."->"It's a gift from my mom. A good luck charm."]]

A streetlight flickers back on weakly. And at a distance, you see him, your passenger. He’s standing in the middle of the street, his back to you. Scaled coils slowly shimmer into existence, rippling and waving and seemingly never ending, revealing a black snake the size of a city block. The snake opens one eye, as big as a monster truck wheel, and it stares right at you. And then another eye. And another eye. The snake’s entire body is covered with eyes. It’s here for you. This is the monster your mother warned you about, the one who killed almost everyone else in your family. If you don’t run, you’ll die. “You want me?” yells the man at the snake. “COME AND GET ME!” He’s trying to save your life. What do you do? [[You take a step towards the man…and the monster.->You take a step backward. You should just run.]] [[You take a step backward. You should just run.]]

You swipe at your phone, trying to turn it on. But of course you have NO FUCKING SERVICE. A streetlight flickers weakly back on. And at a distance, you see him, your passenger. He’s standing in the middle of the street, his back to you. Scaled coils slowly shimmer into existence, rippling and waving and seemingly never ending, revealing a black snake the size of a city block. The snake opens one eye, as big as a monster truck wheel, and it stares right at you. And then another eye. And another eye. The snake’s entire body is covered with eyes. It’s here for you. This is the monster your mother warned you about, the one who killed almost everyone else in your family. If you don’t run, you’ll die. “You want me?” yells the man at the snake. “COME AND GET ME!” He’s trying to save your life. What do you do? [[You take a step towards the man…and the monster.->You take a step backward. You should just run.]] [[You take a step backward. You should just run.]]

Fuck. There’s no time. You can’t let him die alone. Your Taser is a modified version of the ones most humans carry. Even at this distance, there might still be a chance. “Get out of the way!” you yell. And then the man explodes into a massive black dragon. [[Holy shit!]] [[What the fuck!->Holy shit!]]

You should run, you should hide, but you can’t take your eyes off him, the fight, the monster. He’s going to die, trying to save you, this Daniel Gray who happens to be a dragon. You can’t let him die fighting the monster on his own, can you? But if you reveal yourself, you’d give up everything, any chance of living your own life. A normal life. A human life. There would be no going back. What do you choose? [[Save the dragon.]] [[Save yourself.]]

You struggle to keep your eyes on his face, and not look below his waist, because that’s impolite, but even so, you can’t help but realize that he’s definitely got more than heat to him he’s got—no, stupid, look him in the eye and say something appropriate! “Thank you,” you hear yourself squeak. “You’re welcome,” he replies with an arrogant smile. He clearly thinks he did it on his own. It’s better that way, because that means he doesn’t know what you are. And who’s to say it didn’t? The Devourer’s monsters have eaten those with powers far more potent than yours. You swallow. You realize your cheeks are hot. Oh god, what else can you say to him that keeps you from inappropriate thoughts? [[“You still need a ride home?”]] [[“Is there any chance of you telling me what this is all about, or is this going to be like a ‘man in black’ situation where you erase my memory?”->“You still need a ride home?”]]

Your phone doesn’t work. It’s out of power. You look back at the car, the one he magically turned on with a wave of his hand. You shouldn’t be doing this. This will not end well. Still, you drag him into the car, and before you can think about it, you throw him into the back seat. “You better not end up eating me at the end of this,” you say loudly to him, but he’s out. You drive as if a monster is chasing you (because maybe it is). Where do you take him? [[The address he asked for.]] [[Your apartment?]]

The address is uptown in a fancy building with its own courtyard. A doorperson comes out of the glass double doors when you pull in front of the entrance. The doorman/woman (you can’t really tell) gasps when you drag the passenger out of the car. “Get me upstairs,” growls Daniel’s surprisingly commanding voice for someone half-dead. The doorperson takes the other side, and together you drag the passenger into the elevator. “Something attacked us,” you say to the doorperson as you look at them, still trying to figure out if they’re a man or a woman. And then you realize that it’s a deliberate choice and stop trying to figure it out. “Something always is,” the doorperson says in a way that makes you think this isn’t unusual. “At least he ain’t dead.” The door opens into a lavishly furnished apartment, all white and gray, straight out of //Fancy Interior Design for Rich People// magazine. There’s a ridiculously huge oversized fireplace taking up almost an entire wall. Within, a blue fire is burning. The doorperson gestures. “We have to throw him in there.” What’s your response? [["The fire? Are you crazy?"]] [["If all he needed was fire, I could have found a lighter somewhere.->"The fire? Are you crazy?"]]

There’s no way you will let him know where you live. You can’t take him to a hospital. Shit. You’re going to have to take him to his place. Even if there might be other dragons there. The address is uptown in a fancy building with its own courtyard. A doorperson comes out of the glass double doors when you pull in front of the entrance. The doorman/woman (you can’t really tell) gasps when you drag the passenger out of the car. “Get me upstairs,” growls Daniel in a surprisingly commanding voice for someone half-dead. The doorperson takes the other side, and together you drag the passenger into the elevator. “Something attacked us,” you say to the doorperson as you look at them, still trying to figure out if they’re a man or a woman. And then you realize that it’s a deliberate choice and stop trying to figure it out. “Something always is,” the doorperson says in a way that makes you think this isn’t unusual. “At least he ain’t dead.” The door opens into a lavishly furnished apartment, all white and gray, straight out of //Fancy Interior Design for Rich People// magazine. There’s a ridiculously huge oversized fireplace taking up almost an entire wall. Within, a blue fire is burning. The doorperson gestures. “We have to throw him in there.” What's your response? [["The fire? Are you crazy?"]] [["If all he needed was fire, I could have found a lighter somewhere.->"The fire? Are you crazy?"]]

Click here to continue the interactive Safe-For-Work version of the story. “I have to go,” you say. Something inside you rebels at the thought of never seeing him again. But you can’t let him realize what you are, while you're still here. He looks at you with heat in his eyes. No one has ever looked at you that way. He feels as far from being an enemy as anyone ever has. “And that’s it?” he asks. “I think that’s all it can be,” you say. That’s all it has to be. Because once you leave this room, you have to stop living the life you wanted. And take on the responsibility you’ve been avoiding your whole life. Because the Devourer is here. There are people you have to warn. He narrows his eyes. He knows your human name. Your stupid unique human name. He can find you if he wants to. And you realize that you do want him to. Desperately. But the next time he meets you, he may know who you are. And try to kill you. You turn away, unable to stop yourself from keeping up the pretense as long as you can for these precious last few seconds. “You can get my info from the GoRide app. Call me if you need a ride sometime.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Oh, I will.” THE END...FOR NOW! Want to learn more about Daniel and Chloe’s world and why it seems impossible that they can ever be together like this again? Though Daniel and Chloe's story is yet to be finished, you can see how their friends, Hunter and Sophie negotiate a family history of enmity and destruction to find love in Dragon Lovers Book 1: (link: "BETROTHED TO THE DRAGON")[(goto-url: 'https://amzn.to/2Gt7PJV')] (link: "(Also available FREE on Amazon Kindle Unlimited!)")[(goto-url: 'https://amzn.to/2Gt7PJV')] *** Did you enjoy this FREE story? Please help me out by (link: "answering this quick three question survey")[(goto-url: 'https://forms.gle/uBFCVRgwoLXAPe798')]because your responses will help me write better stories!

You realize you know that motherfucker. You met him via a dating app. That was one of the worst fucking dates in the history of dating. [[You swipe to reject.]] [[It's too late to swipe.]]

(link: "Click here to verify you are 18 for the non-interactive hot and explicit version of the ending; requires an email address to download.")[(goto-url: 'https://dl.bookfunnel.com/70vo4p4p7o')] *** Did you enjoy this FREE story? Please help me out by (link: "answering this quick three question survey")[(goto-url: 'https://forms.gle/uBFCVRgwoLXAPe798')] because your responses will help me write better stories!

You take a deep breath. No telling if this is going to work; can you still access electricity outside of the pocket dimension? You grab a streetlight. Instantly, you can sense the lines of electricity connecting the lights in the area, and beyond, an ocean of power in the electrical grid. You reach for it, but you realize the pocket is blocking your access. But you can use what you have. The Dragon pierces one of the snake’s eyes on a streetlight. The Dragon breaks free of the snake’s clutches and soars into the sky, readying itself for an attack. And you know this is your chance. You redirect a surge of electricity through the grid, lightning smashing through the concrete to fry the snake monster, even as the Dragon unleashes a torrent of flame on the snake. Until he doesn’t. Because in what seems like a flash of lightning, the snake screams (you didn’t even know snakes could scream), and then the battle is over. The Dragon lands, its back toward you. You let go of the streetlight. Hopefully he didn’t see you. Hopefully he didn’t realize… Lightning flashes once more, and the Dragon is gone, replaced by the figure of a man. Your passenger. Who happens to be jacked like a superhero. And very, very naked. He walks toward you. [[KEEP LOOKING AT HIS FACE!->Oh. WOW.]] [[Oh. WOW.]]

Shaking with fear, hating your cowardice, you back away from the fight as far as you can. Until you hit the boundary walls of the pocket dimension. You forgot about that. You can’t break this pocket; your training never went that far. Like it or not, your fate is bound with the dragon, and if he doesn’t live, the monster will finish him and come for you. [[You have no choice but to try to save the dragon. ->Save the dragon.]]

“You know what,” he says. “I get the message.” He opens the door and gets out. But before he gets out, he leans back in and says, “You are a man-hating bitch.” For a moment you’re taken aback. He slams the car door shut. “No, you are!” you say way too late, and uselessly as usual. How do people still have those kind of attitudes in this day and age? And how do they get away with it? But you know the answer: being rich makes up for a lot of deficiencies. You are not going to let that guy ruin the rest of your day. The dark-haired man opens the car door. This rich dude looks like he should be on the cover of some gentlemen’s magazine. “Are you a GoRide driver?” he asks with a hint of an accent you can’t place. “My car just canceled on me.” [[“Yes. Hop on in.”]] [[“No,” you lie, totally not in the mood. “I’m off duty.”]]

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