letter opener

I had to repeat the name only a dozen times or so before a shadow flickered overhead, and something the size of a hunting falcon dropped out of the sky, blurred wings humming, and hovered about two feet in front of me.
"Bozhe moi!" Sanya sputtered, and Esperacchius was halfway from its sheath by the time he finished speaking.
I couldn't stop myself from saying, "There's some real irony in your using that expression, O Knight of Maybe."
"Go ahead!" piped a shrill voice, like a Shakespearean actor on helium. "Draw your sword, knave, and we will see who bleeds to death from a thousand tiny cuts!"
Sanya stood there with his mouth open and his sword still partly in its sheath. "It is . . ." He shook his head as if someone had popped him in the nose. "It is . . . a domovoi, da?"
The little faerie in question stood nearly fifteen full inches in height, appearing as a slender, athletic youth with the blurring wings of a dragonfly standing out from his shoulders and a tuft of hair like lavender dandelion fluff. He was dressed in garments that looked like they'd been thugged from someone's old-school G.I. Joe doll, an olive-drab jump-suit with the sleeves removed and holes cut through it for his wings. He wore a number of weapons about his person, most of them on nylon straps that looked like they'd been lifted from convention badges. He was carrying one letter opener shaped like a long sword at his side and two more, crossed over each other, on his back. I'd given him the letter opener set last Christmas, advising him to keep half of them stashed somewhere safe, as backup weapons.


Changes Chapter 33, Page 325-326