Both doors to the main gate swung open, and Ronan was nearly face to face with a gray-scaled dragon.
It was as tall and wide as the giant burning tapestries illuminating its jagged, black teeth, each one as large and wide as Ronan’s own body. The dragon exhaled thick mounds of soot from its nose, the force of which blasted back Ronan’s hair and made him need to ground himself.
Martiza tugged at his arm. “Run! Come with me!”
Ronan shook his head and held his sword outright. It gleamed a black so strong even the dragon winced.
“Go with Illia and take out Wallace,” Ronan said, not casting his glare away from the dragon’s deep, dusty red eyes. From the corner of his mouth he added, “I know you can defeat Wallace.”
Without another word and without wasting another second, Maritza dashed off with Illia through the left hatch.