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Enraged, the dragon sought this delighted mind, this maddening contentment. The eye of the dragon shifted, fixing on the ruined sanctuary far below.

That was where it lurked.

But not for long.

The minions of Kralkatorrik would root out this intruder.

At the south gate of Glint’s sanctuary, a thousand-ton snake reared up, searching for Snaff.

“To get to him, you’ll have to get past us,” Rytlock growled. He leaned his crystalline lance toward the looming beast, daring it to attack.

The snake’s gigantic head swayed from side to side. Blinking eyes the size of bucklers, the snake lunged past the lance and snapped down on the charr—or tried to. Rytlock leaped aside as the fangs buried themselves in sand.

Caithe meanwhile vaulted onto the creature’s back and jammed its scales up and rammed her white-bladed stiletto into its spine.

The giant snake arched to snap at the sylvari, but she clung just out of reach. Each jolt only drove her dagger deeper into the beast’s neck. It flailed back and forth upon the sands, trying to hurl its attacker away, but Caithe held on. At last, the snake slumped to the ground and twitched to stillness.

“Nicely done,” Rytlock remarked as Caithe vaulted from the serpent’s back.

“Like old times,” Caithe said.

“Not like old times,” Rytlock growled. “Logan’s not here.”

An enormous Gila monster charged the entryway. The charr rammed the lance into its neck. The crystalline spear cleaved through one side of the creature’s jowl, spilling stony darts to the ground. The blade delved deeper until it bit through the spine, sending the huge lizard to its belly.

“Doesn’t seem we need Logan,” Caithe said.

Rytlock shot her an amazed look. “It should be the three of us guarding this gate, just like Eir planned. What happens when I go to attack the dragon? Can you hold this gate alone?”

Caithe stared unblinking at him. “I’ll have to.”

“Yeah, you will.”

Just then, a giant spider rushed the two. Rytlock drove the lance into its mandibles and deep into its throat. Impaled though it was, the spider swarmed over Rytlock, knocking him to the ground and clutching him with spiny legs. Its swollen abdomen twitched as a dripping stinger slid forth.

Caithe stung first, plunging her dagger into the narrow joint that connected the spider’s abdomen to its body. The spider shrieked. Caithe twisted the blade, cutting the abdomen free. It fell to the ground, its stinger gushing. The creature convulsed, and its legs seized up around Rytlock.

“Damnit!” Rytlock growled. Sohothin flared free of its stone scabbard and blazed through the tangle of legs. Rytlock climbed through the smoldering mess and strode to the front of the monster. He yanked out the crystalline lance. “Can’t kill a bug. How’s it going to kill a dragon?”

“It will,” Caithe assured. “You have the strength.”

“Yeah,” Rytlock said as a pack of crystalline coyotes loped toward them. “The question is, does Snaff have the strength?”

If its minions could not reach the intruder, the dragon could.

“There it is!” shouted Eir, lifting her bow skyward.

The clouds burst open, and Kralkatorrik dropped out of them. Its wings reached from horizon to horizon, and its blazing eyes poured ravening power on the ground below.

Eir loosed three blood-stone arrows. They climbed the sky and smashed into the belly of the beast and lit up bright green. Three more shafts rose as the dragon plunged. The arrows exploded on the dragon’s shoulders and back, embedding more powerstones. Three more. Six. Each bolt gave Snaff that much more hold on the dragon’s mind.

But Kralkatorrik soared down toward Eir, opening its cavernous mouth.

“Get under cover!” Eir yelled to Garm. She glanced back at the sanctum, torn open from end to end, and then forward at a giant Gila monster. A blow from her mallet brought it down, and she dived beneath it. Garm crowded in beside her.

Plasma roared down from the cloud, and crystals erupted across the army. The dragon’s first breath had turned these creatures