The sun beamed down from above and zapped the little energy Catania still had left in her body. The yellow desert and blue sky met on a hazy horizon, and the warmth of the sand was almost unbearable. Catania’s skin was exposed and burnt, she wore only a rag that was thin and frayed, and the wounds on her wrists and ankles were sore and full of sand. Beneath her, Alticon limped feebly over the desert and panted for water.

Catania ran her hands through Alticon’s usually silky fur, but it was rough and brittle, with dirt matting it into clumps. She had her head resting on his back, and she could feel the scattered rhythm of his heart beating under his skin. She thought back to when Alticon had been a Lavorian. Then, he would have raced through the desert and made it back to Tallarin before nightfall. But now he was weak and vulnerable, Jowra’s experiments many years before having taken their toll on his body. Now he was without armour and pride, and he was a mere shell of the incredible Wolf he had once been.

Catania and Alticon had been free of Melzor for two days. Catania’s sadistic father, the notorious King Jowra, had forced her to return to Tallarin under his own supervision. Unfortunately, his leverage had been considerable, and Catania had had no choice but to accept his ingenius plan. Her father was in her head now, and he would control her reign from within her. And if she failed to fulfil his demands, he would force her to kill Alticon herself, or destroy her city from the inside with his powers.

A scolding breeze crossed Catania and Alticon’s path and thrust yet more sand into Catania’s wounds. She'd have cried out in pain if her throat wasn't so dry, but no more than a croak was heard. For most of their time on the sand, confused thoughts whirred in Catania’s mind. She had visions of Tallarin and the mountains surrounding it, and she dreamt of the ocean beyond. She thought of her quarters in the palace, and of the men and women who served her so willingly. And then she wondered if it would be for the best for her to die before ever making it back to Tallarin. It would be a shame not to see her home again, but at least her father would no longer be able to use her.

For hours more, the worries persisted. It was the toughest time of Catania’s life. It was even more torturous than being shackled in the dungeon. But eventually, the slow tempo of Alticon’s steps became too much and Catania fell into a repose. For a short time, peace came to her, and all her concerns were forgotten.

*

The burning sunlight made way for bitter darkness. The temperature had plummeted, and all that was keeping Catania warm was the heat of Alticon’s body underneath her. She shivered from the cold and opened her eyes. Above, thousands of stars twinkled on a cloudless night, and the moon cast light upon the sand, turning it white as chalk.

It was coming to the third day of travelling, and Alticon hadn’t stopped for a moment’s rest. Neither of them had eaten or drank since before Catania’s imprisonment, and every step for Alticon was so strenuous they were barely making any progress at all.

Finally, Catania could stand to see her Wolf suffer no longer. She patted him softly on the back and whispered hoarsely in his ear, “Alticon, stop. You need to rest.”

With a defeated sigh, Alticon adhered to her demand and dropped onto his belly. Catania rolled from his back and curled up between his giant paws. In seconds, his eyes had rolled to the back of his head and wheezing snores were coming from his jaws. He was so brave, but exhausted too, and Catania was angry with herself for allowing him to carry her for so long without stopping. A Lavorian lives to protect its Rider, but Alticon was no longer a Lavorian, and therefore unable to act like he once could. He needed food, water and sleep now, and if he didn’t get any, he would die.

*

When Catania awoke next, clouds had obscured the moon and the darkness was considerably thicker. She was still partially wrapped in Alticon’s white fur, but the flesh that was exposed to the night was terribly cold. For a brief moment, she wished for the midday sun to be blistering her skin again.

From a distance, a howl cut through the night, and during the eerie silence that followed, Catania found herself searching for movement nearby. For a while, there was nothing more to grab her attention, but just as she began to think she was safe, more howls echoed, closer now, and the white eyes of several wolves came out of the darkness.

Catania stiffened in fright as the wolves approached. They were fierce and hungry, with snarled lips showing lots of sharp teeth.

“Alticon!” Catania whispered urgently, ruffling her Wolf’s fur with her hand. “Wake up!”

But Alticon slept on, and the pack of wolves edged ever nearer. Catania counted six of them, and they had formed an arch around them in preparation for an attack.

“Alticon! Wake Up!” Catania hissed.

She pulled hard at her Wolf’s damaged fur, and that wrenched him from his sleep. He growled loudly at the pain, and then stood quickly to face their enemies. He stepped in front of Catania to separate her from the danger, and then offered a howl of his own to the night.

Alticon was twice the size of the wolves who opposed him, but they could sense his vulnerability. He was unsteady on his legs, and they had strength in numbers. One of the wolves took an opportunity to strike and snapped its jaws at Alticon’s face, but the swipe of a heavy paw sent it retreating to its pack.

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Another of the wolves pounced, and Alticon held his ground again. But this time, one of his legs buckled and the pack attacked as one.

Suddenly, jaws were snapping and whines of pain were echoing across the desert. But for a blur of sand and fur, Catania could see nothing, and she could do nothing but scream and fear for Alticon’s life. She was too weak and scared to interfere, and the fight seemed to go on for hours. But eventually, the pack of wolves scattered into the darkness and Alticon howled again.

As soon as the wolves had left, Alticon fell onto his side and Catania crawled to him.

“Are you okay?” she whispered helplessly.

His flesh was lacerated from head to tail, and his fur was wet with blood. He groaned in pain and struggled to focus his eyes on Catania’s.

“You were so brave,” she told him. “Thank you.”

Alticon closed his eyes and Catania cradled his head. She forgot temporarily about the pain in her own body and focused entirely on the pain in her heart. This wasn’t the first time Alticon had saved her life, it had happened numerous times before. But she didn’t deserve his loyalty. Those many years ago in the palace in Melzor, she had allowed her father to experiment on Alticon when he had been a Lavorian. She hadn’t tried hard enough to stop it, even as his Rider she had been too frightened to intervene. And after months of his torture, they were eventually stripped of their bond, and Alticon was forced to live as an ordinary Wolf. But even in his weakened state, he still fought to protect her. He would endure torture for her, he would walk through scolding deserts for her, and he would fight off anything that would threaten to harm her. After everything she had put him through, he still considered himself to be her Lavorian.

*

When Catania next opened her eyes, the terrifying darkness was gone and the intolerable heat had returned. She was still beside Alticon, and she was relieved to see his chest rising and falling, but horrific patches of scarlet were covering his white coat.

Catania lifted her head to observe her surroundings and was surprised to learn they were on the move. Together, she and Alticon were lying on a wooden board that was being carried by several strange men wearing brown tunics.

Aware the men could be either friend or foe, Catania dropped her head again and tried to keep still, but her movements had already been detected by a young freckly boy no older than twelve.

“Princess!” he shouted in a strange accent. “Yer awake!”

In the time it took for Catania to raise her head again, she and Alticon had been lowered to the ground. The men who had been carrying them gathered around curiously.

“Hello,” she muttered nervously.

“It’s nice ter meet yer acquaintance, Ma’am,” one of the men replied with a grin.

Catania looked down at herself and saw she was still wearing only the filthy rag that covered almost none of her burnt skin. “Have you got anything I can cover myself with?” she asked quietly.

“Certainly, Ma’am,” the young boy answered quickly. He disappeared for a second and returned with some cloth no bigger than the rag Catania was already wearing. None of the men seemed to realise.

“Erm, thank you,” Catania said as she took the cloth, and the boy beamed with delight.

“Yer look a tad thirsty, Ma’am. Can we ge’ yer a drink?” another of the men asked. He was old enough to be the boy’s father. He had greying hair and deep lines around his eyes, but the same unusual accent.

“Please,” Catania answered, wondering why he’d needed to ask.

“An’ yer look ‘ungry too, Ma'am. Would yer like some grub?”

“Grub?” she asked.

“Yeah, yer know… food!”

“Oh. Yes, please.”

Catania was handed a flask of water and some staling bread. The water was warm but refreshing, and she was so hungry she devoured the bread in seconds.

“Tha’ were very lady-like, Ma'am,” the young boy said, and one of the men elbowed him in the ribs.

“Is Alticon okay?” Catania asked as she returned the flask of water to the men.

“Oh, ‘e's fine, Ma'am. Jus’ a few scratches. ‘e'll be runnin' abou’ again in no time.”

Catania felt some of her worry ease, but she couldn't help thinking Alticon had suffered more than just a few scratches.

“So, ’ow much further is it, Pa?” the young boy asked as the men repositioned themselves and lifted Catania and Alticon again. “We've bin walkin' fer ages.”

“Looks closer than it is, son,” a tall, bald man replied. “We ‘ave a few hours ter go yet.”

“Oh, man!” the boy whined. “But me arms ‘urt an’ we've on’y jus’ picked her-” he caught himself, “-we've on’y jus’ picked Ma'am up again.”

The men started walking and Catania looked in the direction they were headed. She could see the huge defensive wall of Tallarin on the horizon, and on either side of it, the mountains stood high and mighty. The freckly boy was right, the city did look closer than a few hours away. But the vast area of sand between themselves and their destination was obviously distorting their perspective.

“What are you all doing out here?” Catania asked. “You’re a long way from safety.”

“Oh, jus’ a bit o’ this an’ a bit o’ tha’,” a fat, red-faced man replied. “Nothin’ essential.”

“Well, I’m glad you found us.”

“The pleasure is all ours,” he replied.

The men bowed, and Catania closed her sleepy eyes. For a while, there was only the sound of feet scuffing sand, but then the men fell into conversation.

The heat of the sun above and the soft rocking of the board beneath Catania were relaxing, and she started to drift as she listened to the voices around her.

“She migh’ do the cookin’ an’ cleanin’, but wha’ else does she do?” one was saying rather unhappily. “I travel fer days at a time an’ when I return, she talks abou’ ‘ow difficult it's bin ter do the gardenin’!”

The other men started to laugh. “She's got yer where she wants yer, Polwit. Yer need ter show ‘er oo’s boss!”

“Show ‘er oo’s boss?” Polwit replied. “She’d beat me inter nex’ week!”

The young boy was the next to speak. “I wish I ‘ad a wife ter do the cookin' an’ cleanin',” he said.

“Yer mother does yer cookin' an’ cleanin'!” his father argued. “Wha’ d’yer need a wife fer?”

“Yeah, yer dun’ wan’ a wife,” Polwit said. “They take all yer money.”

“Bu’ I ain’t got any money fer a wife ter take,” the young boy claimed.

Another man in the group butted in, “Hey, I ‘eard Delwod won a load o’ money gamblin’ at the alehouse but din’ tell ‘is wife. When she found out, she took every penny from ‘im and kicked ‘im ou’ the ‘ouse. Poor man's lost ‘is ‘ome an’ ain't got two coins o’ winnin's ter rub ter’gether!”

“These women are all the same!” a new voice grumbled. “We should gather up all the men in Tallarin an’ do summin’ abou’ it!”

“Women aren’t ter be messed with. Ter do so would be at yer own peril. Sometimes it’s jus’ best ter leave ’em be.”

Catania smiled to herself for the first time in a long while. These men were so strange and spoke in such an odd way she couldn’t help but feel happier. Soon, she could no longer feel her pain, and she had completely forgotten that her father was inside her head. In the company of these bizarre men, her life was okay, and she could sleep without the disturbance of dreams.