Free Journey Of Thieves (Book 5) by C.Greenwood Page A

showed, a place with high rock walls on three sides and a hill of shale on the fourth side leading up to a pile of boulders.
    One of those tall rock walls was an entrance to the Drejian stronghold in the side of the mountain. The stone gates were high and wide. It was impossible to imagine them being opened by any outside force. Certainly it would take more strength than mine to budge them.
    Equally intimidating were the two statues on either side of the gates, soaring rocks carved into the rough resemblance of winged men. I doubted Drejians were as tall as these were depicted, but even allowing for exaggeration, they were a fierce-looking enemy.
    Fortunately it was not the Drejians I had come to face.
    I had no sooner had the thought than my eye caught movement from below. Pacing before the entry to the Drejian fortress was a creature now familiar to me. Massive and black scaled, she was not just any dragon but the dragon. Micanthria. Just as I remembered her from the attack on the high field in Swiftsfell.
    Memories of that day flashed through my mind. Again I heard the screams of the villagers, saw Myria’s blackened corpse. Heat raced through my veins to rival the flames of the dragon. In my hatred, it was hard to think of anything but the need to destroy the creature before me. But some rational part of me knew I mustn’t give in to the desire for vengeance yet. I had been no match for Micanthria then, and I would be none now. Not while she was on her guard.
    So I bided my time and waited until daylight faded and the moon rose high in the sky. I watched while the dragon patrolled her ground, watched when she finally settled down to gnaw on the carcass of some large wild beast she must have killed earlier. When she had eaten her fill, I feared she would resume her watchfulness. But instead, she lay down against an outcropping of rock, lowered her head, and was still.
    Now that it was safe to move without great danger of detection, I crept closer, scrambling as speedily as I dared down the side of the ridge. I was cautious, crossing near the mouth of the Drejian stronghold, but I needn’t have been. There were no warriors in sight. Supremely confident in the strength of their dragon, these people apparently felt no need to post any other guard. It did not occur to them anyone would be foolish enough to come looking for a fight with Micanthria.
    The immense bulk of the dragon loomed before me, a blue-black mountain of teeth and claws. I only had to get near enough so that I couldn’t possibly miss my shot. It almost seemed too easy as I readied my bow and looked for the most vulnerable point to target. The head was best, I decided, drawing near. I would aim directly between the eyes.
    I was so close I could almost have reached out and touched the creature, when a piece of gravel crunched loudly beneath my boot, breaking the silence of the night.
    I froze, holding my breath, as one giant fiery eye snapped open to fix upon me.
    In the back of my mind, a voice screamed at me to loose my arrow, but my numb fingers refused to obey the command. I stood paralyzed beneath the dragon’s hypnotic stare. For a long, silent moment, the world seemed to stand still.
    Then so quickly I barely saw it coming, Micanthria lashed out with one giant wing, catching me in the chest and throwing me a dozen yards to the side. I crashed into the ground with painful force and rolled, my bow knocked from my grasp and lost somewhere behind me.
    I lay sprawled on my back, waiting for my head to stop spinning and for everything to come into focus again. Before I could regather my thoughts or my strength, hot dragon breath blasted over me, and I looked up into the gaping jaws of the beast. My hands moved to the knives tucked up my sleeves, even though I knew they would be little more than sharp splinters next to the gleaming row of huge teeth lowering toward me.
    From nowhere, a thought slipped into my mind, as if Myria herself were tapping me on the