Entrapment (Thor's Dragon Rider #3) - Katrina Cope Page 0,37

burning black-stone countryside.

- Chapter Eighteen -

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A chill settles into my bones. The sensation is strange as my skin is slick with sweat from the heat of the fire realm. That roar sounds familiar. The cover from the angels of death parts slightly as each one twists to find the source of the cry.

At first, the blackened fields behind us seem vacant—not a pair of lava-filled eyes to be seen anywhere. But suddenly, about ten feet behind us, the river springs to life and sucks the lava from the riverbed as a sizeable gaping jaw rises from it.

Dragon scales! Elan pulls up, bringing us out of the protective barrier of the angels of death, who remain behind, too stunned by the sight of the creature forming before them to move quickly. It’s the lava dragon.

Beowulf’s voice croaks behind me. “It’s the what?”

Peering over my shoulder, I meet his wide eyes. Even the slayer of monsters is stunned by this creature. “It’s a dragon that forms out of the lava river. We encountered it when we tried to escape.” I gaze back at the angels, who still haven’t moved yet. “Go! Fly!” I scream.

My demand seems to knock away their shock, and they jolt into action, flapping their wings and darting upward, away from the creature-forming river.

We’re too late. The dragon forms quickly, its figure shooting toward them with its mouth open wide. It devours one of the angels of death, snapping its jaws shut.

“Mother of Midgard!” Beowulf curses behind me.

I’m jerked from behind as my Valkyrie fighting leathers are grasped at the back of my neck.

Turning, I see Beowulf has risen to his feet, his spear set ready in his spare hand. He hurls it at the dragon, the action yanking at my uniform. Thankfully, the front of my uniform doesn’t rise to my neck, or it would have choked me.

The maneuver causes him to slide.

I slip on Elan’s back and clench my legs harder around her neck as I grasp her scales, feeling their sharp edges bite into my flesh. “Beowulf. Sit down!”

The spear aims straight for the dragon’s enormous chest, disappearing into the crawling molten skin with a slight burst of flame as the wooden shaft catches aflame.

“Argh!” Beowulf’s disappointed grunt attracts the attention of the lava dragon.

Beowulf, sit! Elan commands.

With a huff, Beowulf does as he’s told just before Elan rapidly changes direction, aiming higher, away from the gaping maw of the enormous dragon.

Looking over my shoulder, I watch as the angels of death throw their spears at the dragon’s heart, or where the heart should be, as though following Beowulf’s guidance. Each one of the spears combusts into flames.

The dragon rises up and up, the dark pits of its eyes following our progress. Suddenly, Beowulf yanks my sword from its sheath on my back and throws it at the dragon. I use my magic to aim it at the beast’s temple, hoping that the metal doesn’t disintegrate as his spear did. I’ve grown rather attached to my flying sword.

For a human, Beowulf’s throw is strong, and my sword shoots straight through the lava dragon’s head and exits the other side. The dragon roars in frustration as the strike aggravates the dragon rather than killing it.

“Can this thing die?” Bewilderment laces Beowulf’s voice.

Shaking my head, I hold out my hand, calling to my sword and happy that it hasn’t melted. “I don’t know. Why did we fly so low in the first place?”

Beowulf points at a location on the ground. “Because this is where we entered Muspelheim.”

Following his finger, I spot Ander disappearing into a hole below, followed by a few angels of death.

“Then we need to follow if we can avoid the dragon.” Worried that my sword is still hot, I magically instruct it to follow, and its tiny wings flap, hovering nearby. “Do you think we can make it through that hole, Elan, before the dragon blocks our way?”

I shall try.

Several more angels of death give us one final glance before disappearing into the hole. Their eyes are wide, and they look ready to leave this horrid realm as soon as possible. They cast a last glimpse into the realm, seemingly to make sure I’ve seen where they’re disappearing. A few dark warriors remain floating around the lava dragon, trying to keep the dragon occupied for a little longer.

Another roar sounds in the distance, and I pull my attention away from the lava dragon. Over the mountains with cascading lava waterfalls, Surt stomps toward