green, like they had been plucked in spring. It was the dead of winter. What tree had fresh green leaves this time of year?
Enozan spasmed. He coughed and pink saliva sprayed from his toothy jaws. His strength failed him and he collapsed, one of his broad blue wings draping over Shay. The dragon shivered; blood gushed from his wound with each heartbeat.
Zernex snarled. Shay was dismayed to discover he hadn't been forgotten after all. The slavecatcher reached down grabbed him by the collar of his bright red coat. He yanked Shay to his feet, pulling him around to serve as a living shield.
'You obviously care about this slave!' Zernex shouted, his fore-talon pressed against Shay's jugular. 'Show yourself, or I'll slit his throat!'
From the dark hillside there was no sign of movement.
'I mean it!' Zernex screamed. The dragon's claws hooked more deeply into Shay's flesh. A bead of blood slid down his throat.
Zernex's demands were met with silence. Cold sweat trickled down Shay's face as Zernex's eyes darted back and forth, searching the shadows. 'Come out,' he said, fear reducing his voice to a trembling whisper. 'Your surrender is this slave's only hope.'
In the branches of one of the tall pines, a shadow separated itself from the others.
'Do not speak to me of hope,' the shadow said. 'I am not the hope of the slave. I am the shadow on the stone. I am the black unbroken silence. I am the Death of All Dragons.'
'Bitterwood?' Zernex whimpered, sounding as terrified as Hemming had moments before. His claws began to tremble. His grip slackened. Seeing his chance, Shay grabbed the talon and pushed it away, dropping down, freeing himself. He leapt away as Zernex spread his wings to take flight. The slavecatcher let out a pained grunt. Shay tripped on the gravel and rolled to his back. Zernex had an arrow in his left leg, buried in the meatiest part of his thigh.
'Bitterwood?' Zernex whispered again, sounding like he was in shock. Terror flashed into his eyes. He craned his neck heavenward, and beat his wings in a mighty down thrust. He lifted from the ground, his tail swinging around toward Shay. Acting on pure instinct, Shay grabbed the slavecatcher's long tail. Shay yanked hard, with his full weight. Zernex was thrown back to the gravel bed, landing on his left wing with a sickening snap.
Shay rose to his knees and saw a smooth river stone before him nearly as large as a skull. With both hands, he lifted it above his head and hurled it at the slavecatcher, who was struggling to stand. The heavy rock caught the dragon in the side of his jaw. Zernex's head was knocked back to the gravel. He still wasn't dead. He lifted his long, serpentine neck, his jaw bleeding and broken, and looked toward Shay with murder in his eyes.
In a flash, there was an arrow sprouting between those eyes, the green, leafy fletching shuddering from the sudden halt of its flight. Zernex's golden eyes crossed as they tried to examine the object between them. Then they fluttered closed, and the slavecatcher's head dropped. Shay grabbed another good sized rock and lifted it, holding it for a moment above his head, waiting for any sign of life. At last, he dropped the stone before him. Zernex wasn't breathing. The dragon would never catch another slave.
Shay rose on unsteady feet. He was breathing hard, his heart racing. The last five minutes of his life seemed disconnected and unreal. The bodies of three dragon and two men sprawled before him, their dark blood blending with the gathering shadows. He saw the leather satchel and lifted it, slinging it back over his shoulder.
He looked up toward the hillside, searching for any signs of movement among the black branches of the pines. The shadow he'd seen earlier was gone.
'A-are you really Bitterwood?' he asked.
No one answered.
'Are you… are you going to Dragon Forge? To join the rebellion? I've read about you. You fought at the last rebellion. At Conyers.'
Shay listened hard, certain he heard movement.
It was, perhaps, only the rustle of trees in the winter night. Shay waited for several minutes, until the cold set his teeth chattering. He knew his only hope of surviving the night was to keep moving. He turned up the collar of his coat against the breeze. He rubbed his windpipe, feeling the indentations on his throat where the slavecatcher's claws had been. When he lifted his fingers, the tips were red and wet. He turned toward the west, and saw that the clouds above the distant foundries glowing brightly, reflecting the furnaces of the rebellion.
Shay took one last glance at the pines, shifted the pack to better balance it on his back, and walked toward the glow on the horizon. The foundries of Dragon Forge burned like an eternal sunrise. This was the hope of the slave. With numb feet he staggered forward, freedom bound.
