Lena stood on the edge of the gaping black hole, her hair wiped across her face by the wind and rain. The ruins followed the curve of the arched entrance, glowing white against the dark night. She gripped the hilt of her short sword so tight her hand was numb.

Something shifted in the black, something massive and malevolent. Lena stepped back, half drew her sword. Even her Elven eyesight couldn’t penetrate the darkness that hid her enemy.

A noise rose over the constant patter of rain. It began as a low growl that grew into a terrible howl. Lena’s sword flashed at the scaly tail that whipped out of the cave. A screech rent the night and finally the dragon lunged into the air.

Lena darted into the black, ignoring her enemy’s screams. The dragon circled overhead, its red eyes locked on the cave that had long been its lair. There was blood on the wind, not Elven or dragon but human.

Lena did not emerge. That didn’t matter. The dragon had the patience of a stone. He could wait.