Alika immediately felt better after the meal, and not just because her hunger had been satiated. Perhaps it had been partly luck, but if she’d hunted for them once, that meant she could do it again. They weren’t totally hopeless after all: they could survive on their own. For the first time since their mother’s passing, Alika felt like they might not actually die.

Fortunately, Tarka didn’t remain broken up about the goat for long. He complained a little bit about how they should have looked for the goat’s treasure, but as soon as something else distracted him, it seemed to flee his mind completely. Much to Alika’s irritation, he’d become obsessed with the unusual acoustics of the mountain pass.

“HELLO!” Tarka screamed.

Alika jumped at the loud sound, her hackles raised. She was about to reprimand Tarka when her ears twitched at a faint noise in the distance, calling back to the two of them.

“Hello!” it called back, soft and distorted.

Alika shivered. It sounded uncomfortably like Tarka, as if Nigel had possessed him and stolen his voice.

“Who’s there?” Tarka called into the valley.

Alika thought she saw a small animal skitter away in the distance. If there was any prey for miles out, they’d certainly be scared away.

“Who’s there?” the voice returned.

“I asked first!” Tarka growled.

“I asked first!” it replied.

Alika nervously looked toward the top of the ridges. The snow was lighter there, and rocks and grasses were visible on the cliffsides. She was pretty sure there wasn’t any risk of another avalanche but didn’t like taking chances.

“Tarka, it’s just an echo,” she sighed, nudging him with a wing. “It’s the reflection of your own voice. Remember what Mom said about reflections?”

“Um.” Tarka stared at her blankly.

“Don’t talk to them,” Alika replied matter-of-factly. “Come on, we’re trying to stay quiet, remember?”

“Yeah,” Tarka replied. He averted his eyes from Alika. “You’re talking weird again. Like not you.”

“I’m talking weird?” Alika asked, cocking her head. “You’re the one talking to your echo!”

Tarka whipped his tail. “Let’s just go.”

Alika snorted and followed Tarka. Fortunately, he remained quiet.

The sun moved closer to the horizon. While Alika was sure that some of it was because of how deep they were in the mountains, it was clear the days were getting shorter. She began her evening routine of searching for a place to sleep for the night. A nice cranny or even a small cave would be perfect to protect them from the winds of the pass, ideally far enough off the ground that they would be out of the eyes of any predators, just in case.

“Alika, Alika, look!” Tarka gestured a wing out, excitedly flapping it to get Alika’s attention. “Ruins!”

Alika followed Tarka’s wing. For a moment, she didn’t see anything but the gray stone off the cliffside and grasses partly covered in white snow. But an unusually flat part of the cliff stuck out to her, with odd geometric holes in the side. Though pieces of the ruins had fallen off and others were left hanging over the ledge, once she knew what she was looking for, the unnatural structure was clear. Snow had partly piled up around a large entrance, and the stone ledge near it had been seemingly shaped. Alika’s eyes traced a narrow pathway down the cliffside.

“C’mon, let’s go!” Tarka said. He began to leap up and down, thumping his tail and wiggling his wings. “This one is so big!”

“Tarka, it could be dangerous,” Alika replied, staring at the crumbling path. What if Tarka fell down the cliff? What if there was a pack of wolves hiding in the ruins? “We need to keep walking, alright? We don’t have time for this.”

“But all we’ve been doing is walking!” Tarka whined. “Forever and ever, just walking. There’s plenty more walking; there will always be walking! What’s the point in having an adventure if we don’t explore anything cool along the way?”

The end of Alika’s tail twitched. This wasn’t an adventure. This was them trying to survive.

A beam of sunlight reflected off the rings and into Alika’s eyes, forcing her to look up at the ruins again. It would be getting dark soon. Alika let out a frustrated puff of mist.

“I guess it would be a good place to sleep for the night,” Alika rumbled. She hadn’t found anything better, and the cover of ruins would keep them protected and unseen. Plus, if wolves were hiding inside, she would have smelled them. “Just be careful on the way up.”

“Yay!” Tarka replied, bounding up the stairs.

Alika followed after him, checking every step. Pieces of them had fallen away, eventually being consumed by the colorful grasses. The foliage was barely held back, growing between the steps and splitting them open. Had the bitter cold and winter snow not made it so difficult to thrive, Alika didn’t doubt that the stairs would have become invisible.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

The valley grew further and further away as they climbed. Alika felt the wind of the pass whisk past her wings, and she opened them a crack. The fur lining them fluttered, and she suddenly felt herself thrown off balance as if the wind would carry her away. The ground began to feel like it was pulling her down, and Alika’s heart began to race.

She quickly shut her wings again. She didn’t want to be thrown off and plummet to her death.

Apparently, Alika had misjudged how far up the ruins were. Even the boundless Tarka was out of breath by the time they reached the top of the stairs. Alika carefully kept herself as close to the cliff face as possible as her paws crunched through the light covering of melting snow.

“We made it!” Tarka gasped, flopping to the ground as soon as he reached the top step.

Alika carefully avoided stepping on his tail or wings. A gaping maw of a doorway led into the dark ruins. A cold and damp breeze brushed Alika’s snout. It smelled dirty inside.

“I don’t like this place,” Alika murmured. “Maybe we should sleep somewhere else.”

“But we made it up all this way!” Tarka replied. One by one, he dragged his limbs back together, trotting up to the entrance and peering into the darkness. “Alika, look! Clawmarks!”

“Clawmarks?” Alika whispered, her breath drawn away. Sure enough, large gashes had been dug through the stone. She placed her paw near one, comparing the sizes. Whatever made these marks was much larger than she was. She took in a deep sniff. Still no scent of anything predatory. “I hope whatever made these is long gone.”

“Alika, stop being silly. These are dragon clawmarks!” Tarka shouted, his voice echoing into the ruins. “Look! These ones over here are Mom’s, and these ones further in must be Father’s!”

“Father’s?” Alika asked. There were two sets of claw marks, and she supposed they were around the right size to be made by an adult dragon. “How do you know?”

Tarka swished his tail around his hindlegs and set by one of the marks. He rubbed one of them. “I just know. Touch them!”

Alika placed a talon within the mark, holding her wings tight against her ribs. She stared at the cold stone. Serka’s talons were about the same size, and the claw marks she’d left in their den felt the same way. Tarka was right. Alika was not sure how she knew, but she was sure of it — their parents had been here.

Cold tears soaked the fur around Alika’s eyes. They’d walked the same trail that they had, had seen the same ruins. Even long gone, pieces of their history still remained. Alika touched the tip of her snout to the claw marks as if trying to nuzzle her mother one last time.

“Mom mentioned this place!” Tarka said, thumping his tail on the ground. “Remember? She and Father found weird human ruins on a cliff and looked for the map there cause they were so big dragons could’ve fit inside!” He squealed as he began to prance up and down. “Alika! We can look for the map like they did! Trace their steps and find the Emerald Isle! We can finish what they started!”

Alika wiped her tears away with the edge of her wing. She let out a long exhale. “Tarka, that’s ridiculous. If they couldn’t find it, we definitely can’t. We can’t get sidetracked from finding our pack, alright? We need to get further north before winter comes; we don’t have time for this.”

“Well, that just means we need to look now!” Tarka lashed his tail and suddenly took off sprinting into the darkness of the ruins.

“Tarka, stop!” Alika roared. “Come back!”

She ran after him, hit with the musty smell of the ruins. He kept going, stone archways lining their either side. Why wasn’t he listening? Didn’t he realize how dangerous this was?

Alika followed Tarka into a rotunda, a huge room carved out from the mountainside. Faded weavings lined the walls, and rotted wood covered the floor. The remains of odd human structures were scattered around, and parts of it had been scorched.

“C’mon!” Tarka called back. “It’s just a little dark, what are you so scared o—”

His words were suddenly cut off by a loud snap as the wood beneath him broke. With a squeal, he fell through, planks of wood crashing down after him.

“Tarka!” Alika called out, rushing to the hole he’d created. She peered down, talons trembling in fear at what she might see. Had he fallen to his death? Had he been impaled by a stake of wood? She let out a small puff of flame to light up the ruins.

Tarka burst forth from a small pile of wooden road, the top of it about Alika’s height down from where she was standing.

“Tada!” he said, kicking the wood away. “There was nothing to worry about, see? Look, I found a secret cave! There’s more ruins down here, tunnels leading deeper into the mountains!”

Alika leaped down and wrapped her wings around Tarka, holding him as if it would keep him from running off again.

“How could you just run off like that?” she chastised him. “That was dangerous! We shouldn’t have come here.”

Tarka struggled, trying to get out of her grasp, but Alika placed a hindpaw on his tail to pin it in place.

“You’re sounding like Mom, but worse,” he rumbled. “Where did my sister go?”

“Well Mom’s not here anymore, so maybe one of us needs to sound like her and keep us alive!” Alika snapped, stomping down on Tarka’s tail. It had been reckless decisions that had gotten the two of them into this situation. Reckless decisions that had gotten Serka killed. Maybe Tarka had been too young to understand, but Alika should have known better.

Tarka’s ears drooped, and he turned his head downward, looking away from Alika. He didn’t respond.

Alika let him go. She curled her wings around her forelegs. Maybe she’d been too harsh on him. But he had to understand, didn’t he? She was just trying to keep him safe.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Alika said. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Yes you did,” Tarka grumbled. “You think it was my fault that she died, don’t you?”

“I don’t think that,” Alika assured him. She raised a wing to try and comfort him, but he flinched, taking a few steps away. “I don’t want to fight, okay? How about we just get to sleep?”

“I’m not tired.”

Alika stepped over to the wall of the basement, picking out a spot and clearing it away from any rubble. Laying down on her stomach, she raised a wing, gesturing Tarka towards her. “We did a lot of walking today. We’ll feel better in the morning.”

“I’m sleeping over here. By myself.” Tarka dragged himself back toward the pile of wood, ducking behind it so that only his tail was visible to Alika.

Alika tensed her talons. “Tarka, you’ll get cold.”

“Don’t care,” he pouted.

Alika rested her head against the floor. There wasn’t much point in trying to argue with him. It wasn’t like she could just pick him up by his nape like Serka could.

She shut her eyes. Maybe her parents had slept in the very same ruins. Maybe they’d fought too, over something stupid like talking prey or where to sleep. She tried to imagine what Serka would say to her in this situation. Something about not fighting. Why hadn’t she imparted her wisdom sooner? Why couldn’t they have had more time? Why had she been taken away from them so soon? Serka should have seen her cubs grown to adulthood, and met Alika and Tarka’s own cubs. Yet now here they were, two flightless cubs on an impossible journey, their remaining family half a world away.