An unprecedented cold season settles over the kingdom, and Benjy dares to hope that winter will give everyone a chance to breathe easy while their enemies sleep through the deep freeze.



Repelling Addervaul's assault took it out of them, and now the time had arrived to settle in until the thaw brings more flaming fury to their door. What's that wise old saying? Wish in one hand . . .



The chill wind blows over the kingdom, carrying the howls of the hungry.



Beasts on the hunt, both natural and otherwise, are the least of their problems. Enemies left breathing are enemies who can scheme and plot. Not only do dragons not hibernate, they are no different to any other defeated foe with a grudge to bear. How much pain can Addervaul inflict upon those who humiliated him?



To what depths will their ancient adversary sink for a taste of vengeance?



Benjy has his work cut out for him yet again, and he soon learns that even his strong shoulders aren't big enough to bear this burden.



Apocalypse by dragon could be the end unless might and magic can keep the brittle hopes of a world set on fire alive. If a king cannot defend his people, then is he worthy of the title?