The dragon shook her head vigorously. Kadagan clutched her neck more tightly against the sudden turbulence. 'Tell me, how have they subordinated so many more powerful races?' Khisanth demanded. 'Why would anything but a worm fear them? They aren't nearly as strong as dragons. They can't even fly! I will hate being one of them!'
The nyphid's expression softened at the dragon's plight, and he added with gentle confidence, 'Thou wilt understand their crude power after thou hast been one. They are emo shy;tionally complex. Their many facets make some weak and small, but give others a fire that inspires followers.'
'I will never follow or fear them,' said Khisanth, scowling. 'As dragon or human, I will bow only to the Dark Queen.' She snapped her head up, to punctuate the end of the discus shy;sion.
Recalling Kadagan's qhen teachings to live the moment, the dragon concentrated on something more pleasing. She watched the ground below with vain pleasure, catching glimpses of her graceful, menacing, moonlit shadow as it skimmed from cliff face to dusky bay and back. At full exten shy;sion, she was the most beautiful creature of her limited mem shy;ory-powerful, gliding silently over the unsuspecting land. What a world it must have been when those of her kind had traveled wingtip to wingtip in the skies-but that had been long ago, before the banishment known as the Sleep.
'There is Styx,' Kadagan said abruptly into the dragon's ear. Khisanth followed the line from the nyphid's tapered fin shy;ger to a dimly glowing collection of lights in the distant southwest. The village was cupped around a calm, indigo blue bay, and its back was pressed against a low ridge of mountains.
'Remember to keep thy distance,' warned Kadagan. 'For Dela's sake, we cannot risk detection.'
'Why would they assume a dragon flying overhead was looking for a kidnapped nyphid?'
'After the disturbance Joad and I caused, they will be sus shy;picious of anything unusual. But thy presence is nothing compared to thy nature. Lest thou forget, the return of drag shy;ons is still just rumor to much of the world. The villagers of Styx would be most surprised and alarmed to sight one of your kind.'
'No one will see me,' Khisanth said confidently.
Taking in the dark ridge of mountains at Styx's back, Khi-santh banked and flew southeast, paralleling the far north shy;east edge of the village. 'I should be able to see what I need from the foothills above Styx,' she explained. Reaching the northernmost peak, Khisanth slowed her speed, dropped her elevation to just above the tree line, and lowered her right wing ever so slightly to swing westward.
The dragon became aware of a dim, flickering glow from the forested foothills below. Curious, cautious, Khisanth dropped back behind a spiky pine and fluttered her wings just enough to remain aloft. Kadagan clung to her craning neck as she peered down into a small glade that would have gone unnoticed if not for the firelight illuminating it. A dozen or more creatures were reclining around a small campfire. The flames made the orange tusks that protruded from their jowly mouths glow like hot coals.
'What are they?' breathed Khisanth.
'Ogres.'
Khisanth vaguely remembered them from the maynus, lurking in the background at Dela's capture. By comparison to the two-foot-high nyphids, ogres were huge, perhaps ten feet tall, with sloping foreheads that made them look witless. The warty yellow, brown, and violet flesh beneath their green hair was covered with torn scraps of animal fur that stank even at a distance. Despite the foul stench, Khisanth found the underlying scent of living flesh inviting.
If thoughts of their taste weren't invitation enough to strike, Khisanth spied gem-studded swords near each crea shy;ture, the precious stones winking at the dragon in the fire shy;light. Picking their teeth with the bones of their recent dinner, the sleepy ogres did not notice the threat that hovered in the shadows beyond the trees.
'Thou art planning to attack.'
Khisanth had to force herself to think enough to respond. 'Instinct tells me to, yes.' Spittle flooded her maw in antici shy;pation of the feast. Blood hammered at her temples and burned in her veins at the thought of the treasure.
'It is most unwise-'
The pounding in Khisanth's head prevented her from hearing anything but her own blood-thirst. She didn't even notice when, sighing, the nyphid extended his gossamer wings and fluttered earthward into the protection of the leafy branches beyond the glade.
Unable to contain her hunger for another second, Khisanth spiraled downward like a black tornado. She only distantly heard the ogres' screams as they spotted her circling in the dimness above. They panicked, and every ogre jumped to its feet. Thinking only of running away, they slammed into each other and fell back down in a tangled pile. Several stumbled and landed in the fire, setting their greasy hair and clothing aflame.
Pulling up short just eight feet off the ground, Khisanth snatched up an ogre by the chest. The creature's purple eyes flew wide open before Khisanth's fangs cut through the flesh and laid its chest bare. The dragon landed with a hop, looked inside the cavity to the heaving heart, and sighed. That deli shy;cacy would have to wait until she had dealt with the others.
Khisanth whirled to find a second ogre brandishing a thick branch in its talons, slashing the air before the black dragon. Khisanth bit through the club with a satisfying snap, then tore off the ogre's arm. She thrilled to the unaccustomed tex shy;ture of the limb sliding down her long throat.
In the fighting that followed, Khisanth was aware of only her own sound and speed, the ogres' fear and blood. She sim shy;ply acted and reacted. As with flight, the dragon discovered that she instinctively knew what to do. Her entire body was a weapon, effective beyond anything these ogres could imagine. Her talons slashed like sabers, her teeth impaled like spears, her tail whipped and smashed like a battering ram, her wings beat and buffeted like windstorms. There was no escape for the ogres, and turning to fight was hopeless. One after another they died, screaming, stumbling in their own gore.
The campsite was strewn with torn bodies, blood still pumping from dying hearts. Khisanth's red-flecked face looked up sharply from the last kill and saw that only one more ogre stood between her and the treasure.
Khisanth paused to consider the last ogre. Its cured-hide loincloth was of high-quality deer instead of bear, and much less moth-eaten than the others, suggesting some care. This ogre was noticeably bigger than its comrades, its dusty, sweat-streaked forehead a little less sloped. Something about its heavily scarred face suggested enough intelligence for the creature to realize that this was its dying day. Yet there was an absence of fear in this one, too. Khisanth noted that the ogre's eyes still gleamed with a feral light as she slithered over the corpses, preparing her attack.
'You dragon?'
Khisanth stopped short. 'You know what I am?'
'Hear stories.'
'What have you heard?'
The ogre drew back warily. A weak, threatening growl rumbled through its filed orange teeth, as if warning her to keep her distance while it thought.
'Tell me what you know, or I'll kill you slowly,' Khisanth growled, leaning in.
The creature had been chieftain of this small band of ogres and had killed enough foes to realize that mercy in exchange for information was unlikely. The ogre's eyes shifted from side to side, looking for something to help it. Bursting into motion, the tall warty creature stooped and snatched up a sword lying in the dust. The chieftain's attack was straight shy;forward and ferocious, wasting nothing on cleverness. The ogre simply lunged and drove the point of its sword toward Khisanth's breast.
Ever wary, the black dragon lashed out with her right claw. The dusty sword was torn from the ogre's hand, sent spinning across the clearing until it disappeared in the dark shy;ness among the trees. The ogre's eyes hopelessly followed the weapon for only a moment. It looked back again quickly, hatefully, at Khisanth.
She threw back her head and opened her toothy jaws in laughter at the creature's impotent rage, displaying slimy chains of pink-tinged slaver.
The ogre's scarred face testified to countless scrapes with death, and it called upon that hoarded experience for another ploy. Keeping its eyes locked on Khisanth, the ogre reached down again and snatched up the torn corpse of a fallen com shy;rade, holding it by its ankles. A rake of Khisanth's claws had ripped away the creature's shoulders and head just moments before. The chieftain swung the gruesome torso in a circle overhead and launched it at Khisanth before she could dodge away. The gory bulk slapped her in the left eye, a broken rib slashing across her leathery eyelid. Her own blood streamed from the gash and mingled with the corpse's.
