This time, however, it was worse. Momentarily, Pirce's men began to approach him from several directions. Basically, he was surrounded. With little thought he soared higher and higher, fear clouding his clear view of reality. Only by chance did he manage to evade the manhunt. He put all his strength into flying, but he was smaller than them and even the fact that he was unbelievably fast for his age did not help, they kept coming towards him. He could already see their snouts and multicoloured eyes fixed only on him.
Suddenly he felt something strange. Fatigue subsided, new strength appeared, his mind brightened. He felt like he was in his first full transformation. He didn't wonder what had happened. He just started flapping his wings harder and faster. It did not surprise him that he was tiring less than before despite the heavier strain, because he did not think about it. All the while, he tried to observe both the dragons behind him and everything in front of him to avoid another ambush.
He worked harder and harder and flew faster and faster. He had never developed such speed before, and he liked it because every second the pursuers became smaller and smaller and flew lower and lower. When he was over the Verde he headed upstream and only above the harbour did he start to slow down. As he braked, he dropped nimbly into one of the narrower streets, changed and with his heart beating hard, ran to the nearest alley.
He ran for a few minutes wandering through the cramped alleys of the harbour. Finally he found two piles of crates lined up against the wall and huddled between them, embracing his knees with his hands and resting his forehead on them. He tried to get his thoughts under control and his body through which continuous shivers ran.
Bleist walked quietly through the streets near Verde and its main harbour. He didn't want to be conspicuous so he wore the local dress - trousers and a tunic to mid-thigh. He blended in well with his surroundings.
