The frozen peaks stretched white against a pale blue sky. Maria led her Valkyries down the mountain path, the dragon's heart secured in a container of enchanted ice. The women moved in loose formation, their steps light despite the morning's battle. They were tired but proud. They had earned their rest.
The attack came without warning.
A shadow passed over them, vast and sudden. The wind changed, growing hot and thick. Maria looked up.
The dragon descended from behind the peak like a falling mountain. It was enormous—far larger than the young dragon they had slain. Its scales were black as volcanic glass, veined with lines of pulsing orange light. Its wings blotted out the sun. Its eyes burned like twin furnaces, and lightning crackled along its horns, leaping from tip to tip in bright, angry arcs.
"Scatter!" Maria commanded.
