Golden Treasure The Great Green-plaza -

They did not understand that a dragon does not count his scales. A dragon is his scales, his fire, his territory, his hoard. And Kur's hoard was the memory of a song he'd never sung.

They will try to put me back in the box. They will try to cut the Green. They will try to silence the Song. But I am Kur. I am the scale and the claw and the memory of the First Fire. And the Great Green is not a place. It is a dragon that has been sleeping for ten thousand years.

The PLAZA rebels stopped running. They turned and stared.

Kur didn't run. A dragon does not run.

One of them, a thin creature with wild eyes, stopped in front of Kur's cell. He pressed a device to the glass. The lock hissed. The door swung open.