he was inches from Shay's face and said, 'Burke was trying to sabotage us. He killed a dozen men. If he's dead, good riddance.'
Shay wanted to back away from Frost. His eyes were bloodshot and his breath stank of goom. He was looking for an excuse for a fight. Shay clenched his fists and held his ground. He was taller than Frost. He straightened to his full height and looked down into Frost's eyes. 'How about Bitterwood? Would he be welcome here? Because that's who I'm really looking for.' Frost's left cheek twitched at the mention of the name.
Biscuit said, 'A man claiming to be Bitterwood was here a few days ago. He took the boy with yellow-mouth and left.'
'Yellow-mouth?' said Shay. 'Is that why the streets are so empty?'
Biscuit nodded. 'The men are all staying indoors.'
'To avoid those with the disease?'
Biscuit stared at Frost. He looked afraid. Frost carried a weapon resembling a short shotgun tucked into his belt. The barrel was less than half the length; it looked as if it could be held in one hand. Frost's palm rested on the butt of the gun. Shay noticed the bloody bandage on his wrist.
Biscuit chose his words carefully. 'Avoiding the disease is one theory.'
'You've let the foundries stop running because of this?' Shay asked, incredulous. 'The disease is dangerous, yes, but with proper sanitation and a little-'
Frost yelled, 'The disease is under control!' His spittle flecked Shay's cheeks. 'The furnaces have stopped 'cause we don't wanna run out of coal. We can't get any more.'
'I see,' said Shay, wiping his cheeks as he backed away. Standing his ground wasn't as important as not getting goom-spat. He knew there was still a sizable mound of coal out back; he'd seen it from the air. Of course, there had also been hundreds of coal wagons backed up along the Western Road.
'How did you get in?' Biscuit asked. 'The only people the dragons have let slip past have been the sick and the disabled. You're the first halfway healthy man I've seen get past the blockade.'
Shay decided that mentioning the wings-or Jandra's bracelet-would be unwise. If Bitterwood had already been here and left, and Burke was dead, his immediate reason for staying was gone. On the other hand, with or without Burke, Dragon Forge was too important to the human cause to fail. Jandra was his top priority, but he had recovered items in the long-wyrm barracks that could give humans the upper hand in this war.
He closed his eyes. The vision of The Origin of Species crumbling to ash flickered before him. The last person he wanted to talk to was Ragnar. Yet, like it or not, Ragnar was the power in Dragon Forge. It was Shay's responsibility to mankind to see that he did not fall.
'I can help break the blockade. I need to speak to Ragnar.'
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN:
THUNDER ON A CLOUDLESS DAY
JEREMIAH SHIVERED AGAINST Bitterwood's chest. 'I-it's c-c-cold,' he whispered through cracked lips.
The boy's breath was as hot as a furnace. Bitterwood pulled the filthy blanket that swaddled Jeremiah higher up on his chin. He knew that a thousand blankets wouldn't be enough to make the boy feel warm.
'We'll be inside soon,' Bitterwood said softly, brushing the boy's matted hair away from his eyes. 'I promise we'll find you a proper bed, and some hot soup.'
'I-I'm n-not h-hun…,' Jeremiah's voice trailed off.
Jeremiah was slipping in and out of sleep without bothering to open his eyes. Bitterwood wasn't certain if the boy was even aware that Hex had joined them. He showed no awareness of their odd surroundings.
They rode through the forest of tents that surrounded the Free City. Flaps were pushed aside as men and women peeked out to stare at the gleaming long-wyrm and the sun-dragon walking beside it with a noticeable limp. Here and there among the crowd, the dark green turtle-faces of earth-dragons could be seen. They were as curious as the humans, and showed no signs of hostility. The last time Bitterwood had approached the Free City, the only earth-dragons in sight had been armed soldiers, pushing their captives along at spear point.
'I didn't know there were so many people in the world,' Vance said softly.
Bitterwood remembered how small the world had seemed to him back in his own youth. Until the dragons burned Christdale, he'd never journeyed more than thirty miles from his birthplace. The true scope of the world had been impossible to fathom.
'There are far more people here than at Dragon Forge,' said Burke as he surveyed the crowd. 'Are these refugees who were turned away by the blockade? Or perhaps chaos is spreading further through the kingdom than we knew?'
Hex's scales bristled at the use of the word 'chaos.' 'It isn't chaos that's spreading,' the sun-dragon said. 'It's freedom. The authoritarian regime that enslaved these people is gone, leaving them free to follow their own destinies.'
'If following their own destinies means abandoning their homes to live in tents, I fear their destinies will be short and sad,' said Burke. 'Think of all the abandoned villages we've seen. Spring is coming. Who will plant the crops? Where will the food to feed everyone come from by next summer?'
'The beasts of the forest survive without farming,' said Hex. 'The world is bountiful.'
'Hex, as I understand it, you've lived most of your life in a library on the Isle of Horses. You have an overly romantic view of nature, I fear. I've spent a fair amount of my youth in the forest. It's not as full of food as you might think.'
'My views aren't romantic,' said Hex. 'I'm simply able to see the evil that has been inflicted on both men and dragons in the name of order.'
'I'll take order over chaos any day.'
'This is a curious argument for a revolutionary to make.'
'Seizing Dragon Forge was the first step to imposing a new order,' said Burke. 'Anarchy was never the goal.'
'Impose is a telling verb,' said Hex. 'If the rebellion at Dragon Forge is intended to be the first step toward a human war of genocide against dragons, rest assured I will destroy your rebellion. I haven't helped take the slavecatcher's whip away from the dragons in order to give it to humans.'
'Someone's hand is always going to be holding the whip,' Burke said. 'It's the way the world works. It's the lesson of history.'
'I intend to bring an end to history. I want to live in a world where the strength of ideas has more power than the strength of arms.'
Bitterwood had heard enough. 'You're a hypocrite, Hex. You didn't persuade Rorg with the force of your ideas. You didn't change Shandrazel's mind with an argument. Everything you've accomplished of note you've done through violence-you slaughtered Rorg and you allowed your own brother to die. You call yourself a warrior philosopher, but you're nothing but a long-winded bully.'
Hex looked around at the throng of refugees who stared at them. 'Bullies use their strength against those who are weaker. I've stood up to would-be kings and would-be gods. These humans have nothing to fear from me.'
'Unless they join the rebellion under their own free will, and you try to crush it,' said Burke.
Hex shook his head. 'If they don't become oppressors, they have nothing to fear. Any hand that would reach for a whip, however,'- he turned his gaze toward Burke – 'will find itself bitten off.'
By now, they reached the gates of the Free City. A quartet of young women in white cloaks, their faces shadowed by large hoods, approached cautiously.
One held out her hand and said, 'Greetings, brothers,' then spotting Zeeky near the back of the long-wyrm she added, 'and sister. Welcome to the Free City. Many among you appear injured. You shall all be healed.'
'We need to see the healer now,' said Bitterwood.
The woman pushed back her hood, looking sympathetic to Bitterwood's need. She patiently explained, 'The increase of supplicants in recent days is placing great demands upon the healer's time. He only attends to those with the gravest needs. The rest of you will be cared for by his disciples, who will administer the dragonseed.'
