There had been few occasions in which he had been so certain he was about to die. Frank peered out at the valley below him. He had never loved flying. Heights freaked him out. He loved dragons. He just didn’t love riding them.

The dragon’s scales were warm underneath him. He knew better than to ride bareback on a dragon. But it had been an emergency and he hadn’t had time to saddle Stormbrow.

Frank felt his stomach drop again as Stormbrow preformed another intricate maneuver. He felt an intense heat as the dragon behind them let go another torrent of black fire.

The dragon twirled in a circle, trying to escape the dark dragon behind them. Frank felt himself slipping. He tried desperately to hold on to the spike in front of him, but he slipped and went flying, falling straight to the canyon floor.