She heard the poachers before she saw them. She smelled them as well; all sweat and the musk of dead skin and furs. The men were singing some bawdy song about a farmer's daughter who could be talked into anything—or at least that's what Nessalir thought that was the subject. It was difficult to tell with all their voices in a different key and slightly off from one another.

  The day was approaching noon, and Nessalir had yet to grow weary. Whatever the nature of the roots the Green Man had given her, they kept Nessalir full and satiated. As the sounds of their quarry drew closer and louder, she and the Green Man exchanged a glance and silently the two of them prepared to attack.

  Only a few steps more, and Nessalir could see them: a group of men walking through the trees, full packs strapped to their backs. Two held the reins of a captured unicorn, and three more walked alongside the beast with sticks and blades, prodding it when it resisted. A dark red bloom stained the creature's white fur.

  The Green Man hissed in anger, and Nessalir felt her knuckles tighten on her sword to see such a noble beast so brutalized. She turned to the Green Man to ask him how he wished to attack, only to find that he had vanished.

  Casting her eyes about for any sign of the guardian, Nessalir spotted a strange tree that seemed to move and slide its way through the forest. It quickly faded from her vision, and another tree, subtly unreal, appeared a short distance away from her. She recalled how the Green Man had initially appeared to her the night before, and she realized that he was making his way to the unicorn and its handlers.

  Very well. Nessalir would leave the task of saving the "heart beast" to the Green Man. She would focus on thinning out the poachers' ranks.

  Her boots alighted silently upon the forest floor. Nessalir crouched and moved, her tail trailing straight out behind her. At times like these, she felt as though some strange inhuman instinct was guiding her movements, as though her dragon blood had been awoken and she now moved as the serpent, the drake, the wyrm.

  She wove her way through the trees, held her breath as she approached the poacher at the end of their little procession. He wore a smaller pack than the others, and he held a bow in his hands, arrow resting between his fingers, ready to be nocked at a moment's notice.

  The man was glancing all about the forest in the manner of one who did not trust it. Nessalir considered how right he was to be distrustful as she emerged from the woods behind him, threw her clawed hand over his mouth and head, and thrust her sword into his throat.

  He went limp, and his blood flowed freely down her blade. Silently, Nessalir set him down upon the forest floor, then stepped over the body and made for the next man, walking just a few paces ahead. He had not yet realized the danger he was in.

  Nessalir had nearly reached him when another of the poachers cried out. The Green Man had emerged from the forest and driven his spear into one of the unicorn's handlers. Another handler screamed. Others drew their weapons. Nessalir drove her sword into the next poacher's back.

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  "A monster!" one of the men shouted, pointing at the Green Man. "A troll! A giant! Kill it!"

  But the Green Man was already dancing among the poachers, moving as a flower petal caught in the wind, thrusting his spear into the tender flesh of each hapless hunter he came across. The unicorn, sensing its salvation, reared up on its hind legs, and one of the men holding onto its reins caught a hoof to the face.

  The Green Man felled another poacher, and one of that poacher's compatriots turned to flee. He stopped short when he found Nessalir standing before him.

  "Hello," she said with a smile.

  His eyes met hers, took in their gold and the black reptilian slits. "Monsters…" he gasped.

  "Not quite," said Nessalir, raising her weapon.

  To his credit, the poacher recovered swiftly. He pulled a sword from his side and just barely managed to parry Nessalir's first strike. But she had been fighting her whole life, and her dragon blood sang within her as she rained down upon him a flurry of blows. It was all he could do to block each swing of her sword, and with every clash of steel he was driven back, until his heel caught on an upturned root and he fell against a tree.

  The blade of Nessalir's sword found his heart, and the man collapsed.

  "Go!" shouted the Green Man, and it took Nessalir a moment to recognize he was speaking to the unicorn. The horned horse looked at him, and then looked at Nessalir, and she was certain she could see gratitude in its eyes. Then the unicorn fled into the forest, leaving Nessalir and the Green Man to deal with the remainder of the poachers.

  "Now," declared the Green Man, "you who have profaned yourselves with the blood of the Heart Beasts; you shall know the wrath of the forest!"

  "Shall we?" called another voice. It was mocking and arrogant. Nessalir glanced around and saw a man with golden hair. He held a spear of his own in his hands, and wore finer leathers than the other hunters. There was no beard upon his face despite his maturity, and his skin possessed a suntan which was rare in these Northern Lands. These traits marked him as a Remuran, and given the quality of his gear, Nessalir assumed he must be the leader of this hunting expedition.

  The Green Man met his gaze, and the Remuran did not flinch. "You are a trespasser here," he growled.

  "I am a trespasser in many places," replied the Remuran. "I would think that the least of my crimes."

  Roaring in anger, the Green Man charged forward. He was so focused on the Remuran, on the prideful smirk on the lesser man's face, that he did not see the threat coming for him through the trees.

  But Nessalir saw. She shouted a warning—"Wait!"—only to realize that she was too late.

  A massive man, so huge that Nessalir wondered if he might have jolatari ancestry, came crashing from the trees, swinging in both his mighty hands a great ax. The weapon split the Green Man's armor in two, and his dark, saplike blood fell across the forest floor.

  Nessalir watched in horror as the Green Man collapsed, and then the brute who felled him turned his attention to her.