The humans began shouting, waving around their spears. Their words bounced off Alika’s ears, now sounding like nonsensical squeaks and squawks.

The woman with the spear rushed at Alika again, aiming to stab it into the dragon’s throat. Instead, it only grazed the top of Alika’s skull, as she ducked down beneath the points, biting at the woman’s hands. The woman stepped back, and Alika’s jaws wrapped around the wooden shaft.

There was a brief struggle as the woman tried to pull the spear out from Alika’s jaws, but the attempt was futile. Almost effortlessly, Alika twisted her neck, and the spear snapped in two. The force knocked the woman to the ground, holding half of the broken spear above her. Alika spat the other half out, rolling off the edge of the dock and splashing into the water.

The scent of terror wafted off the woman as she waved the broken spear over her head, as if it could do much against even a half-grown dragon. Alika stepped forward, only to feel searing pain piercing itself into her side.

Alika reared up, roaring in agony as another spear embedded itself beneath her left wing, the three tips digging deep into her flesh, up to her ribs. Her blood boiled, her pulse loud in her ears, her vision hazy from the pain. She swiped at the fisherman behind her, barely missing him as he leaped away.

With another crack of wood, Alika brought her foreleg down upon the spear that he’d stabbed her with. It easily snapped into two, the pointed tips still embedded beneath her wing. Shooting pain shot up into her chest again.

The metallic gong kept clanging, blood rushing with each of her heartbeats. Before she could attack again, three more humans with spears appeared from what seemed like nowhere, surrounding her sides. She lunged at one, only to have to stagger back to avoid being speared by another.

Another spear grazed her, slicing through her skin. Still on her hindlegs, she whipped her tail, trying to knock one of the humans down. Her body twisted, and all that her tail touched was air. A spear almost hit her neck, forcing her from the dock and up toward the village, further away from Tarka.

Tarka let out a squeal, and in the few moments Alika managed to get between dodging getting skewered, she glimpsed him. He was still struggling beneath the net, unable to get his hindleg free. The boat rocked as humans leaped aboard, the tips of their spears pointed at the cowering cub.

Alika roared, trying to tell him that she’d save him, but her path was blocked. Humans formed a tight wall in front of her, their weapons interlocking, pushing her back. Snow ducked beneath one of her wings, hissing at the attackers.

The humans lowered their spears, and Alika’s tail brushed solid wood. She and Snow had been driven up against the wall of one of the houses. A semicircle of triple-pointed spears spread about before her, tightening until Alika was straight up on her hindlegs, her wings tucked in.

“Alika, do something!” Snow commanded, jumping on Alika’s backside and digging her tiny talons under the dragon’s fur. Alika stepped backward until she couldn’t anymore, squishing the fox between her body and the wood. The salty scents of blood and fear wafted through the air, pierced by Tarka’s cries for help.

Alika had only one option. Her jaws hinged open, and she let loose a column of flame as blue as the sea, their edges flickering into crimson as they consumed everything they touched.

Humans screamed as they dove from the deadly arc of fire spewing from Alika’s mouth, throwing their weapons and bodies to the side in hopes of escaping it. The smell of burning flesh was almost nauseating, but it was nothing compared to the quieting cries of Tarka in the distance. Alika stretched out her wings and leaped, sailing so cleanly over the dying flames that none even singed her fur. Snow’s fangs grabbed ahold of the skin at the back of Alika’s neck as she held on for her life.

Horrible pain shot through Alika’s left side, embedding deep into her flesh. With her heart racing and adrenaline coursing through her veins, she could barely even feel it. Right now, her only thoughts were of Tarka. Even with her vision blurred by agony, blood, and smoke, she could see him on the canoe, trapped and struggling beneath a series of nets. Except now, he was smaller: the canoe had been untied and was drifting away from the dock.

No, not drifting. Every human aboard had long sticks in their hands and were rowing for their lives. Their eyes were wide, their scents filled with terror as Alika barrelled down the dock, leaving behind a trail of smoke. Tarka howled, wailing to be rescued.

The canoe moved further away, rushing down the fjord. With more strength than Alika ever knew she had in her, she spread out her wings, leaping from the splintered end of the dock. Snow gripped her neck tighter. The pain under her wing pulsed and twitched.

She fell short. Her talons reached out, grasping for the boat, but she’d never had a chance — the aft of the boat was already tail-lengths away. Instead, she dropped into the water like a stone, causing a wave to push the canoe holding Tarka away.

Alika’s wings bent upward as they hit the surface, and she saw glimpses of red swirling out from the left one. Frigid water soaked into her fur, numbing the pain. The fjord was deep, stretching far beneath what she could see, but she had no time to worry about what sorts of creatures could be down there. All she could do now was put one paw in front of the other, paddling toward the canoe, its shimmering silhouette shrinking.

The cold water felt like sludge as Alika’s legs moved, and she slowly rose upward. Small fish scattered around her, but she barely even noticed. Right now, only one thought consumed her mind: that she needed to rescue Tarka.

Alika felt odd stiffness in her side as she broke up through the surface, agonizing pain clenching under her left wing. She pushed through it, trying to tune the pain out. The frigid water managed to numb it, and she could almost focus just on her swimming.

Her legs paddled in rhythm, her tail swishing from side to side. Shallow waves washed over her snout. But no matter how hard she tried to paddle, the canoe just seemed to get further away. She was just too slow.

“Alika, look out!” Snow warned.

Alika hadn’t even realized that Snow was still holding on to her. The fox was shivering on her backside, being dunked into the water with each of Alika’s strokes.

A sharp object suddenly splashed down a short distance from Alika’s right wing. She turned to see that the humans on the shore were running alongside, sending spears sailing through the air. She was just trying to rescue her brother. How could they be so cruel?

Another spear came down, barely missing Alika’s tail.

“Alika, swim to the other side of the river!” Snow shouted.

“Too far,” Alika grunted, refusing to heed Snow’s warning. Trying to swim away would get her further from Tarka. And he was right there, right in front of her. She squinted at the boat, the image of it fuzzy from all the splashing water. His white fur was barely visible from the water’s surface.

Her vision doubled. Why were there two Tarkas? Alika narrowed her gaze, trying to bring her eyes into focus.

“Alika, you’re hurt!” Snow shouted into one of Alika’s ears. Her voice seemed muted and distant as if she’d been buried beneath a slab of ice. What Alika wouldn’t do for a nice chunk of ice to climb on right now. Ice was good and solid, unlike all of this water. It was terrible for swimming! Much worse than snow. Where had Snow gone?

“You need to get to shore, now,” Snow said, nipping at Alika’s neck. “You’re injured! If you keep going, you’ll die!”

“He’s gone,” Alika whimpered, keeping up her paddling. It felt like she wasn’t making any progress. The boat was blurry, and Tarka’s body was no longer visible. Or was that it? No, that was the wind cloth. “They took him! They’re going to slice him and eat him like a fish! Snow! I have to save him!”

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“You can’t save him if you’re dead,” Snow snapped.

Pain dug into Alika’s side as she struggled to swim forward. Her wing twitched, and she felt something sharp and cold beneath it. Was there something there?

Alika moved a forepaw across her body and felt cold metal under her fur. When she tugged on it, there was more pain in her side. The humans had stuck something in her! With a snarl, she wrapped her claws around the metal, trying to pull it out.

“Alika, no!” Snow yipped, biting one of Alika’s ears. It hurt, but not as much as the metal did. “Stop!”

“It’s slowing me down,” Alika muttered.

With a tug across her body, Alika ripped out the spearhead that had snapped off beneath her wing. The three points tore huge gashes as they came out, and crimson blood immediately began to pour into the water around her. The smell of iron wafted up from the surface.

Alika let out an agonizing roar as another spear came down behind her, falling short of its aim. She dropped the spearhead and allowed it to float to the bottom of the fjord, far below. She turned her snout around, trying to find Tarka, but couldn’t tell where the boat that took him was. Her vision was too blurry. Was that it? Or was that just a cloud? Or a rock?

“Alika, get to shore!” Snow yapped, biting Alika’s ear again. The pain paled in comparison to the hooks. The nips felt far away and distant.

“Save him,” Alika huffed, trying to take another paddle toward where she thought she smelled his scent. “I have to save him.”

“Alika—”

“Stop trying to stop me!” Alika wailed. “You’re trying to hold me back! This is your fault, you know. I should never have let you come with us!”

“My fault?” Snow snapped. Alika felt the fox’s claws clench into her fur. “What do you mean it’s my fault? You’re the one who demanded we come down here!”

Alika paused, struggling to remember. “Oh. Right. That was me. How about that.”

Reddish water washed over her head, and for a moment, she got the intense urge to close her eyes. The water was cold, but it felt nice, just rocking her back and forth. Maybe she should just fall asleep here.

“Keep swimming!” Snow bit Alika’s other ear, hard. Her eyes opened back up, alert.

“But you said—”

“Keep! Swimming!”

Alika kept paddling. The blurry form of Tarka was right in front of her now. It was huge, so huge. When had he gotten so big?

She crashed onto the opposite side of the shore, sharp wet stones digging into her fur. She barely noticed. Blood poured from her side, staining the rocky beach red.

Alika closed her eyes, laying flat on the beach with her wings and legs splayed out. The water washed over her tail, cleaning away a crimson rivulet trickling down her fur. She was tired, so tired. She’d failed. They’d gotten Tarka, and she’d never see him again.

Her wing moved, and Alika felt something press up against the underside. Snow struggled to lift the dragon’s wing, trying to find the wound. Alika’s white fur was soaked from the water, weighed down and almost crushing the poor fox. Alika tried to lift it for her, but didn’t have the strength to do so.

“Hold still,” Snow commanded. “You’ll make the bleeding worse by moving.”

Alika grunted. Snow wriggled further beneath her wing, and Alika felt the fox’s small paws near the source of her pain, applying pressure to it. The bleeding slowed a tad.

“Do you think this is how Serka felt before she died,” Alika murmured. “It’s not awful. I could just go to sleep right now.”

“You’re not dying!” Snow snapped, and small claws sunk into Alika’s side. “Stay awake! How are you supposed to save Tarka if you die?”

“Right,” Alika rumbled. She opened her eyes. Everything was blurry and out of focus. The sound of the waves seemed far in the distance. Tarka was alone and scared. Who knew what the humans were going to do to him. She couldn’t just die here.

Summoning all the strength she had left in her, Alika tucked in her right wing, and began to roll away from Snow.

“Hey!” Snow said, trying to move with her. “I told you to hold still!”

Ignoring Snow’s alarmed cries, Alika rolled until she was on her side, the injury beneath her wing pointing up to the sky. The area on the underside of her wing was a bloody mess. It stank of iron, and had stained red both her sky-blue fur and Snow’s clean white pelt.

Alika stuck her snout into the center of the injury, pushing Snow off of her. As Snow released pressure, another spurt of blood came out from the wound. Alika dragged her tongue across it, filling her jaws with the taste of metal. Her wing twitched in pain as she passed over the deep gashes in her side where the spearhead had been torn out. When Alika pulled her tongue away, the bleeding had stopped.

“Wait, what?” Snow asked, cocking her head. “How did you do that?”

“Dragon saliva has healing properties,” Alika explained. Sure enough, with each lick, the wound began to close up. It wouldn’t return the blood she’d already lost, but it would at least keep her from losing any more of it.

Alika set her head down on the shoreline, cold waves splashing across her tail. Slowly, her senses began to return to her.

She’d failed. The humans had gotten Tarka. She tried to keep the image of them slicing and gutting him like they’d done to their fish out of her mind, but it kept returning. Was he even still alive? He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be. She’d know; somehow, she’d know.

“Alika, hold still,” Snow said, standing upright and stretching out her tails.

“It’s not like I can do much else,” Alika groaned. The pain in her side was steadily getting worse, now that she had nothing else to pay attention to. Her side clenched up, and she dug her talons into her flesh, just to distract her.

Alika followed Snow’s gaze upstream. Blurry blotches of brown and white had appeared around a bend from the south, and were getting closer. Were more humans coming after her? She was weak and injured. It was a perfect time for them to make the kill.

Snow stretched out her three tails in a fan-like shape, and Alika felt the tiniest twinge in the ends of her fur. The canoes — she could see now that there were three of them, each with two spear-wielding humans — hadn’t made any motion to attack them.

“What did you do?” Alika whispered.

“We just look like rocks to them. No sudden movements.”

Alika kept her claws as still as ice as the boats passed by, the humans scanning from bank to bank for any trace of their quarry. There was no sign that the humans saw it. Alika held her breath as she felt more pain in her side, trying to keep from fidgeting into a more comfortable position.

The boats passed by, and Alika was glad to see them disappear around another bend of the fjord. She let out a warm exhale of breath. Her vision was suddenly blurry once more. Tears began to fall from her eyes, though Alika could barely feel them on her soaked fur. Quiet whimpers escaped the dragon’s jaws.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” Snow lowered her tails.

“It’s not alright! How can you say it’s alright? They’re going to cut Tarka up like a fish, and the whole time he’ll be wondering why I couldn’t save him, and I’m going to be here doing nothing!” Alika wheezed, clutching her side in pain. “If I hadn’t made you come down here, if I hadn’t been so stupid—”

“They’re not going to cut him up,” Snow assured her, placing a paw on Alika’s neck, miniscule in comparison. “If they were planning to eat him, they would have killed instead of capturing him.”

“What else would they want with him?” Alika asked. “He’s just Tarka! He can’t even breathe fire yet! Why would they want him?”

“Maybe they’ll cut off all his fur, or try and dress him up like a sled dog,” Snow replied, chuckling dryly.

Alika rumbled. If only she could be sure that was the worst of it. But how could she know? What if they cut off his wings and tail? What if they starved him?

“Look, we’ll find him, okay?” Snow said. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in this neck of the woods, but have a pretty good idea of where they’re taking him. There’s a human city up where the fjord meets the sea. And who knows, maybe we’ll catch up to him before they reach it.”

“Yeah.” Alika relaxed her claws. “Hey, about what I said about this being your fault — I didn’t mean it. You’ve done nothing but been helpful.”

“It’s fine,” Snow replied. “All is forgiven.”

“It’s just, if I lose Tarka, that means I’ve lost everyone. My father, my mother, and now my brother.” Alika nuzzled into her uninjured wing, wiping the tears from her snout.

“Everyone,” Snow repeated.

“So I can’t lose him too. He’s all I have left,” Alika continued. “Screw finding my pack. I just have to find Tarka, no matter what.”

“We’ll find him, I promise.” Snow flicked her tails around. “We’ll get you two reunited as soon as possible, okay?”

“Thanks,” Alika murmured. “That’s… really good of you. I feel bad for being so mean to you when we first met.”

Snow winced, tilting her ears down. “Well, I mean, it’s not like I’ve had any other friends in the past century!” She chuckled. “Just been saving up all the goodness in my tiny heart for the two of you, I suppose!”

Alika rested her head down against the stone, shutting her eyes. “We should probably get away from the banks, in case the humans come back.”

“Hey, you shouldn’t move yet, remember?” Snow said. “Just rest. I’ll just hide us again if needed.”

“What about when you need to sleep?” Alika murmured, already halfway into her dreams.

“It’s fine. I can stay awake. We need you to heal as fast as possible if we’re going to go after Tarka.”

“Yeah, of course,” Alika whispered as she drifted away into the darkness of sleep.