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head shaven, the other half sporting a mane
of long white hair. His heavy plate armor was just as white, the breastplate
engraved with a tillvine blossom.
    The paladin
reached for his sword.
    Cade grabbed a
heavy stone the size of a loaf of bread. He hurled it.
    The paladin
opened his mouth to cry out. An instant later, the stone slammed into his
chest, knocking him down.
    Cade ran. He
leaped down the slope, charging toward the paladin. The man rolled a few feet
down, hit a boulder, and began to rise. Cade reached him. He stepped down on
the man's blade, pinning the sword to the ground, lifted the same stone he had
tossed, and brought it down hard.
    The stone
slammed into the paladin's face. Teeth broke loose. Blood spurted.
    Cade did not
allow the horror to overcome him. He slammed the stone down again and again,
grimacing at the blood, at the crumbling face, the shattering skull, the
leaking brain.
    When the man
moved no more, Cade dropped the bloodied rock. His body trembled, but he refused
to let the fear overcome him.
    I killed a
man. I—
    He gritted his
teeth.
    Move!
    He ran down the
mountainside and finally reached the snaking gully between the slopes. He
crashed between the pines, stumbled a hundred yards farther down, and found himself
standing in a dried riverbed. To his left and right, mountainsides rose like
walls, thick with trees. The forest canopy hid the sky. The riverbed spread
ahead, mottled with patches of light; the water was gone now, possibly only
flowing in spring when the snow melted. Smooth, mossy stones and a carpet of
fallen pine needles covered the riverbed.
    Cade spared a moment
to examine his wounds. He winced. When falling through the sky, his own
dragonfire had burned holes into his burlap tunic. The skin below was red and
raw, and welts covered his arm. Already bruises were spreading across his legs,
and cuts and scrapes covered him. Mercy's lance had left an ugly cut on his
side, tearing through the skin. His head wouldn't stop spinning, and again the
overwhelming urge to lie down filled him.
    He squared his
jaw and forced himself to keep walking, to move down the riverbed. He didn't
know where he was going, only that he had to keep moving, to put distance
between him and the pursuing firedrakes. He heard the beasts still flying
above, and their drool pattered down like rain.
    Where do I
go? Cade thought.
    Where could he go? He couldn't hope to ever return to his village, not now. The paladins
knew about him. They had seen his magic. Soon the High Priestess herself would
know that a "weredragon"—a man who had not been purified, who could still
become a dragon—lived in the Commonwealth. The Cured Temple would stop at
nothing to find him, to break him, to show the people what happened to those
who defied purification.
    I'll never
see my family again. Cade's eyes stung, but he kept walking. For now he had
to survive, to—
    A firedrake
crashed down through the trees above, its scales silver. Cade cursed and leaped
for cover, plunging down between a boulder and a leafy brush. The stone pressed
against his one side, the leaves against the other.
    The firedrake
in the gully screeched, a sound like shattering glass. Its claws uprooted
trees. Soil and needles rained down. Crouched low, Cade covered his ears as the
firedrake's scream echoed inside the gorge, deafening. Dragonfire blasted out,
streaming over Cade's head, bathing him with heat.
    It hasn't
seen me, he thought, crouched low. If it saw me, I'd be dead.
    He wanted to
shift. By the spirit, he wanted to become a dragon, to charge against the
firedrake, to slay it. He dared not. Too many of the beasts flew above the
mountains; only by hiding could he hope to survive.
    He pressed
himself lower to the ground, trapped between boulder and bush, hidden, daring
not even breathe. Wings thudded. Scales clanked. More firedrakes flew down to
land in the gorge, snorting and cackling.
    For a moment, Cade
heard nothing but the beasts. Then a high,