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.

Squeezing the throbbing eye shut, Khisanth could see the desperate ogre scramble over broken weapons and dead bodies. If the creature reached the woods, she would be unable to follow.

Khisanth pulled back her thick lips and constricted her abdomen. The black dragon's gorge rose, and she felt the hot, salty acid race up her long throat, storm over her crimson tongue, and roar through her tightly drawn lips. As it hit the air, the steaming bile exploded into a shimmering mist and blasted across the clearing in a five-foot-wide stream of ruin. Plants withered and dissolved in the awful vapor. Droplets fell and sizzled upon the remains of bodies in the path of the blast, filling the air with a noxious green fog and the scent of burning blood.

In less than a heartbeat the full force of the blast slammed into the back of the fleeing ogre. The corrosive river splashed around the beast's shoulders and head, eating through its deerskin clothing and past to its flesh. The chieftain's death scream pierced the air for a second before fading into a stran shy;gled gurgle. Then the forsaken creature fell forward on the hideous remains of its face.

The only sound in the still clearing was the hungry sizzle of acid burning through bone. When it had finished its meal, the darkened liquid bubbled and soaked into the dirt and ashes, burying itself.

An eerie, whispering wind rose to fill the silence in the clearing. Khisanth stood among the wreckage, her hind legs a bit shaky. The bloodlust that had driven her was gone,