Before Snow had time to run, Kurka slammed her paw down at her. Snow’s illusion shattered, and when Kurka raised it again, her claws were enclosed around the three tails of a whimpering white fox. As easy as one might lift up a ball of snow, Kurka dangled the fox against her jaws, pressing her intact saber-fang to Snow’s neck.

“Stop, don’t hurt her!” Alika cried. She got onto her hindlegs, trying to push Kurka’s foreleg.

Kurka didn’t budge, sniffing the squirming Snow’s fur. “What is she?”

“She’s just a fox!” Alika said, futility grabbing Kurka’s foreleg, unable to pull it down even a little. She dug her claws into her grandmother’s fur, but Kurka didn’t even flinch. “Please! She has illusion magic. It’s harmless.”

“Bah,” Kurka snorted, rattling Snow back and forth. “There’s too much fur on her to eat.”

With a cruel twist of her paw, Kurka let go of Snow’s tails, flinging her into the air. Snow landed with a thump in the snowdrift. Alika rushed over, offering a paw to help Snow up.

Snow didn’t take it, slowly rising up to her paws, limping as she staggered away.

“She’s alive!” Urka suddenly yelled out. “She’s alive!”

The pack turned toward Urka, who was still standing by Omerka, who lay motionless in the snow. Alika could see her great-aunt furred chest gently rising and falling.

Kurka walked to her sister’s side, and gave Omerka a nudge with her snout. Omerka showed no sign of pain, but a stinking puddle of fresh blood poured out into the snow. Her visible injuries were surface-level, but her neck had been twisted behind her upper body, and her ribcage bent inward.

“Kurka, where are my wings?” Omerka whispered. “Where are my legs?”

“They’re right here,” Kurka said, touching Omerka’s paws.

“I can’t feel them,” Omerka whimpered. “I can’t move them. Why can’t I move them?”

Kurka raised her claws, shutting her eyes. The huge dragon took in a deep breath, stilling herself.

“I’m sorry for this, sister, but I’ll make this quick,” Kurka said, extending her claws.

Gust sprung out from his hiding place among the cubs, flying toward the two. “Wait! Let me—”

Kurka brought her paw down on her sister’s throat. Omerka went still, blood spurting around Kurka’s claws.

Gust stopped, staring in shock. His body went stiff, floating in the air.

“Let you what?” Kurka roared, turning toward Gust, her blue fur coated in crimson. “You’re the one who brought that monster here, aren’t you? Haven’t you done enough?”

Kurka let out an anguished cry, smoke pouring from her nostrils as she raised her claws again.

“Grandma, please!” Tarka rushed in front of Gust, getting on his hindlegs and holding out his wings. “Don’t hurt him! It wasn’t his fault!”

“It wasn’t his fault?” Kurka snarled. “How could it not have been his fault! My sister is dead because of him!”

Alika’s talons quivered, fire burning in her belly. There was no way that she could fight Kurka and her pack, any more than Alika could move a mountain. But if she tried to hurt Tarka or Gust…

“Take your fox, small monster, and get out of my sight!” Kurka roared at Gust. “If I see either of you after sunset, I’ll rip off your heads myself!”

Alika moved between Tarka and Kurka, hiding her brother behind a wing.

“Kurka, please,” Alika said. “Give Snow and Gust another chance! You saw how bravely Snow fought.”

“There’s no need.”

Alika turned to Snow as the fox spat at Kurka.

“Snow?” Alika asked.

“Gust and I can go back to Mira.” Snow started to limp across the ground, slowly heading in the direction of the mountains. “I’m sure she’d love to have us around. Maybe we’ll even catch a boat to Lina, and meet up with Yarik! Who knows!”

“No, no!” Alika said. “Grandmother, please! Just let them stay! They’ll be a great help!”

Kurka lowered her paws to the ground, growling.

“Choose who you’re with, daughter of Serka,” Kurka rumbled. “Your rightful pack and family? Or two fake dragons?”

Alika stared down into the bloodstained snow. She didn’t want to leave Snow and Gust, but how could she leave her pack? This was Tarka’s home, his family. This was where he belonged. Why did she have to make a choice?

Alika said nothing.

“This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it? A family?” Snow hissed. “Well, I hope you enjoy having one!”

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“Snow, stop,” Gust said, catching up to the limping fox. “Let her decide.”

“She already has!” Snow shouted.

“Wait—” Alika began, reaching a paw out toward the two.

Before she could say anything more, Kurka slammed her tail down into the snow.

“Drive them off!” Kurka roared.

The two adults who had taken down Tshav rushed Gust, flapping their wings and baring their fangs. Gust yelped as they spat globs of fire, narrowly missing catching his tail tuft aflame. Swimming forward through the air, Gust grabbed Snow in his foreclaws, lifting her up and rising above the pack.

As Gust flew overhead, he turned back. For a moment, Alika’s eyes locked with his. This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t be leaving, not like this.

“Stop, don’t go!” Tarka barged beneath Alika’s wing, chasing after Gust.

Kurka stomped down her paw, catching Tarka’s tail beneath it. Tarka yelped as he fell flat to his underbelly. His paws wrapped around loose snow as he tried to drag himself out from Kurka’s grasp.

“They’re no family for a little cub, no pack,” Kurka snorted. “You’ll be staying with me.”

Tarka whimpered, turning to Alika.

Alika said nothing, turning her gaze down again. What could she do?

Soon, Gust and Snow were out of sight, lost in the mountain mist. Kurka lifted her paw.

Hadn’t this been what Alika had wanted ever since Serka had died? A pack for her and Tarka? Wasn’t this why they had come all this way?

And now, with Snow and Gust gone, it was just them and their family. Alika no longer had to worry about getting banished.

“We’ll perform last rites for my sister, and tonight, we’ll feast on the dead,” Kurka announced. She glared at Alika. “Except for Alika and Tarka. As Serka’s cubs have brought nothing but lies and tragedy to the pack, they will go hungry and sleep alone on the ice for the next little month — which they should consider a generous punishment.

“This should prove a lesson to everyone else. The cubs and false dragons that my sister brought in ended up being her death. Tomorrow, we will continue east and leave this land behind.”

Tarka let out a wail, his wet eyes still focused on the distant, misty peaks.

“Don’t cry!” Kurka growled at him. “Strong dragons don’t cry!”

----------------------------------------

Wailing winds whisked across the ice. The ends of Alika’s wings were covered in a dusting of snow, protecting the rest of her body from the gusts. It felt like they would freeze off.

She curled up tighter, using her tail and wings to hide herself from the winds. The winds howled, and the ice shuddered and creaked beneath her. Alone on the ice, she had no shelter. She had no one to sleep by her side and share their warmth.

The Twins peeked down from above. Alika was sure she wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight.

Her eyes fluttered open as she heard the sound of talons scraping on ice. A dark figure crawled toward her.

The scent was familiar — it was just Tarka.

“We’re supposed to sleep alone,” Alika whispered.

Tarka crawled up next to her, nestling beneath her wing. His fur was cold and covered with snow.

“I can’t sleep alone,” Tarka whimpered. “I’m cold and scared.”

Alika huffed out hot air, wrapping her wing around her brother and pulling him in close. Though the winds still stripped at her warmth, at least Tarka was shielded from them. At least she was no longer alone.

“I am too,” Alika admitted.

The winds cried out. The ice screamed.

“I hate it here,” Tarka said. “I miss Snow and Gust. And Yarik.”

“Yeah. I miss them too.”

All along, Alika had been trying to find her family. This was supposed to be the end of their journey, their harsh travels finally over. Alika dn Tarka had joined their pack, and the two of them had a family, just like they’d had always imagined. Somehow, she’d thought that would fill the hole that Serka had left in her and Tarka’s heart. But it hadn’t. Serka was still gone, and now, Alika just found herself missing more people.

For a long time, Alika had wondered why her parents had gone all the way to the other side of the world, leaving their pack behind on a foolish quest to find a legendary island. Alika had been enchanted by Serka’s stories of the north, of her pack and her cub years — but like the Emerald Isle, those had all just been stories.

But then, why had they come all this way, why had they gone through all that terror and pain, fear and exhaustion, just to end up here? Was there a reason? She’d been led along this path, but now that they’d finally reached the end, she regretted leaving home at all. It had all been pointless.

Alika wanted to give her pack a fair chance. How could they turn back without doing that? Maybe Urka was right, and Kurka was grieving over her daughter and sister. But Alika was afraid. If they stayed too long, would she and Tarka become like Urka — fearful and obedient to Kurka, trapped and reliant on the pack? Long ago, Serka had made the choice to leave everyone but her mate behind. Could Alika make that same choice, even if it meant leaving Tarka? If Tarka went with her, where would they go? They’d just got to the end of their journey — would they have to do it all over again?

Yet, as Alika thought about it, she wondered if it would be so bad. There had been hard times, sure, but there’d been so many good moments as well, from playing with Hedi to dancing with Gust. Even her and Snow ‘rescuing’ Tarka from Yarik had become something to laugh about, in hindsight. Both Alika and Tarka had enjoyed their time around their traveling companions, even just the daily journey of walking or sailing. They’d hunted for each other and they’d cared for each other.

Yet, hadn’t their mother wanted Alika to find their pack, so that Tarka could have a family? That was what the fae had told them, to find their pack in the north. Wasn’t staying with Kurka what Serka had wanted?

What had Serka wanted for them?

Just as much as Serka had told Alika and Tarka stories of her past, of her pack, she had told the two of them stories of her hope for a future. She’d told them the legends of the Emerald Isle, the fabled green land where snow never fell. She’d told them of their quest to find it, and had promised that one day she would find it with them.

And though Serka could no longer fulfill that promise, Alika could do it in her stead.

Night had shown Alika what to do, her scruff stained black so she could never forget. Without Alika even having known it, her path had led her to her pack — not Kurka’s pack, but her pack.

She’d been wrong all along.

She had already found her pack. She had found the family for her and Tarka that Serka had wanted for them. It wasn’t with Kurka, but with Snow and Gust.

And now, Alika knew her path. She had a pack, and she had a home waiting for them. She was here to complete the journey that her parents started: she would take Tarka, Snow, and Gust north to the Emerald Isle.

Once Alika had woken up tomorrow, when the sun had risen and Kurka’s pack went east, Alika would leave with Tarka — so long as her brother was willing to go with her.

Alika just hoped that Gust and Snow hadn’t gone so far that they’d have to go all the way back to Coldwater Bay to find them.