“I’m fine,” said Dirt, panting. He tried to hide how bothered he was by the last few minutes, but of course Socks knew. The pup could smell it on him and see his thoughts.

An arrow clattered to the ground behind Dirt. Socks’ lips pulled back into a snarl and he growled, low and menacing. It was loud enough to make the roof shingles rattle. He shouted, -THE NEXT PERSON TO SHOOT AN ARROW IS GETTING RIPPED APART, WHETHER IT MAKES MY HUMAN MAD OR NOT.-

Ignasi jumped out from his hiding place under the wolf and raised his arms and shouted, “Stand down! He’s friendlier than he looks!”

Hèctor followed him out. He didn’t shout, but he did mutter, “And a lot more dangerous.”

Dirt held his breath, hoping no one else would shoot. If they did, they deserved what happened to them, but he still wanted to make friends with the city if they could sort things out.

Socks shot his gaze to the wall behind him, fixing on one particular archer who had nocked an arrow and drawn it. -DO IT. I WILL PAINT THAT WALL WITH YOUR INSIDES.- The archer tossed the bow off the wall and raised his hands.

The pup’s mental voice couldn’t make the houses rattle, but Dirt was sure it was deafening across the whole city anyway. Socks was being about as loud as Mother or Father, just on the edge of causing physical pain. Dirt was used to it, sort of, but no one else was. A few fleeing humans ducked and uselessly covered their ears. Several archers dropped their bows and tried to flee, which wasn’t very effective atop the narrow wall. They had nowhere to go and just crashed into each other.

Socks scanned the wall, eyes stopping on each archer in turn while he growled, making waves of deep rumbling thud in Dirt’s chest. Even though they were best friends, Dirt could do nothing to stop the animal fear that rose in him any time he heard it. He told himself he was afraid for all the humans Socks was about to kill, but that wasn’t quite true.

Fortunately for them, none of the archers fired another arrow. After Socks was satisfied, he dropped the arrows he was holding with his mind and they fell to the stone with a rushing clatter. He stood up on his hind legs to sniff a couple archers, who froze and tried not to scream. Satisfied that they weren’t going to shoot any more arrows, he got back down and came to sniff Dirt again.

“I’m really okay, Socks, I promise,” said Dirt, patting his nose.

-Fine. Now that you humans have all calmed down, who is the father human? Come out, wherever you are.-

“The what now?” asked an amused Ignasi, his nonchalant manner making him stand out about as much as Socks did.

-The father human,- said Socks. -The ones whose den this is. The oldest. The father.-

“That’s not how it works,” said Ignasi, grinning.

-What do you mean?-

Ignasi said, “The person in charge is not the father of all the people who live here.”

-He lets other families live amongst his brood?-

The city’s uproar kept growing in the background. Crashing sounds echoed down the street, or bells, or trumpet calls from all over town. Dirt’s anxiety grew as well, wondering just how much damage this much panic could cause. Most people wouldn’t know whose voice that was in their heads, or what that huge crash had been when Socks smashed the gate open.

­-Who is the father of the men on the wall, then? Which one?- asked Socks.

“I’m a father,” said one of the archers. He sounded young, even though it was hard to tell beneath their conical metal helmets. The man probably meant to shout, but his voice was too unsteady from terror and it didn’t come out that way.

“He means the captain,” yelled Hèctor. “Who’s the captain?”

One man raised his hand, who looked just like all the rest. Dirt had expected him to be taller, at least, or have a different color shirt.

Socks plucked the man from the wall, causing several others to scream. One archer raised his bow again but lowered it again when Socks’ yellow eyes glanced in his direction. He set the captain neatly on his feet next to Dirt and said, ­-That is my human, Dirt. He came from far away and wanted to meet some humans, so be nice to him.-

The captain was too stunned to speak, eyes wild with fear, mouth hanging open. He couldn’t even twitch his fingers. Ignasi stepped over and put his arm around the man’s shoulders, leaning on him in a friendly, familiar manner. “Let me help you, friend. That is a giant wolf,” he said, grinning widely and pointing at Socks. “Make sense so far?”

The captain hesitated, but nodded.

“Good! Now this, this is a little boy,” he said, pointing at Dirt. “Still with me?”

The captain nodded, a hint of clarity returning to his eyes.

“Good! Now for the confusing part. The wolf and the boy are friends. Take a minute. Think about it. Nod when you’re ready,” said Ignasi, sounding almost ready to laugh. He was having too much fun, and it was infectious. At least to Hèctor and Marina and Dirt, anyway. No one else was amused.

“They’re friends,” said the captain, after a breath or two. Dirt could tell from his voice that he didn’t believe it, or wasn’t quite understanding what he was saying. “The boy and the wolf. Are friends.”

“Very good! Believe me, you’re picking it up faster than I did. Hèctor even threatened the boy with a sword; can you believe that? The stupidity! But we are all foolish sometimes, and such is life. Now, because the wolf and the boy are friends, if you are nice to the boy, then what will the wolf do?”

“I…” it took another breath or two for the captain to shove down his animalistic terror sufficient to finally process what was going on. Instead of answering, though, he stared, swallowing hard.

“Come on, now, my good man,” said Ignasi. “It’s important. Let’s try this again. What is that?” Ignasi pointed at Socks, whose tail twitched in growing amusement.

“I get it! Get off me,” said the captain, finally regaining the rest of his wits. He turned to Dirt and said, “Why did you attack us? What do you want? Who are you?”

“Maybe answer those in reverse order,” said Ignasi.

Dirt paused, then grinned. “I’m Dirt. I want to see a human city with the people still in it. And I didn’t attack you—you attacked me.”

“No,” said the captain. “We did not attack you. The wolf attacked first.”

“Yes, you did. A man named Vidal shot an arrow at me, and then raised an alarm so everyone would chase me down,” said Dirt, allowing some of his offended peevishness into his voice.

“Vidal from the guard? Big mustache? Why would he shoot an arrow at you?”

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“Because I did something wrong, I guess.”

“What did you do?” asked the captain, leaning back like he expected Dirt to try and hit him with the staff.

“Well, I’m certainly not going to do it again, am I? Look what happened,” said Dirt.

Most of the people around had fled, except the archers. But a few others lingered, having realized they were not about to be eaten and curious what was going on. They watched from inside windows or huddled behind barrels, or other such places. Another crept nearer and hid, a child. Then an old woman. The alarms ringing across the city only increased.

“This is not how I pictured our arrival,” said Hèctor.

That got a chuckle out of Marina, who stood with her hands on her hips, feigning exasperation. It was only momentary, though, and quickly faded into a bright-eyed eagerness she did nothing to hide. “Captain, there’s far too much to explain. But I can vouch for the wolf and his pet boy. They won’t harm anyone who doesn’t try to harm them first.”

“And who are you?” asked the captain.

“I’m Marina Sumar, and I was in Oriol’s band. I’m a daughter of Ogena. It’s been twenty years, but I’ve returned.” She said it triumphantly, like she expected applause. She didn’t get it.

He asked, “What is Oriol’s band?”

Socks interrupted. ­-Those of you coming to the gate better calm down. If you shoot an arrow, I’ll kill you,- he said, adding a sense of predatory menace to his words to make sure they got the idea. He had his ears up and head high.

Dirt hadn’t heard the clatter over all the other noise, but now that he looked up the street, a band of armored men were running in tight formation toward the gate. Their metal boots pounded the stone street in near-perfect unison as the few remaining stragglers in the road jumped out of their way.

One soldier shouted, and the rest shouted back in unison, as if making a greater animal out of themselves by adding their voices together. Dirt had no idea humans could be so loud, but the sound struck him with fear, almost as bad as Socks’ growls did. It was a dangerous, threatening sound, and those soldiers showed no sign of stopping.

There were so many! Rows and rows of them, ten men across. At another shout, they tightened their formation. The front row readied their shield as the rows behind lowered their spears, pointing them forward with menace.

­-All of you stay here,- said Socks, just to the few people standing right there talking with him. The pup stepped over them, moving in the direction of the army. Behind them, the entire gate lifted from the ground and floated forward. Socks’ steps grew heavy and slow from the strain of carrying that much weight, solid wood reinforced with bands of metal, but he didn’t slow down or let on. Dirt only noticed because he was watching for it.

The army was only a few dozen paces away now, and admirably, they didn’t all split up and run away. As Socks stepped calmly forward, he made the gate slam sideways into a house, shattering the whole second story from floor to shingles and sending the pieces flying. Then he smashed a house on the other side of the street, easy as Dirt crushing a bug with his palm.

The gate rose high in the air and moved forward over the soldiers. Despite all their discipline, they couldn’t help but slow their assault and look up.

The gate flew downward, pressed faster than simply falling.

And stopped, inches above their heads. Dirt felt the wind from its fanning all the way back here. The soldiers screamed as one, most falling to the ground or jumping to the side to try and get away. Socks shook it slightly, letting it rattle overhead.

­-STOP ATTACKING IF YOU WANT TO LIVE.- Socks’ mental voice was loud enough Dirt was sure every creature heard it from here to the mountains. -I AM NOT YOUR ENEMY, BUT I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOU ENOUGH TO KEEP TOLERATING THIS. STOP THE HORNS AND BELLS AND SHOUTING.-

One soldier picked himself up faster than the rest and gave a shout, words Dirt couldn’t make out and wasn’t sure were even words. Some of the others fell into formation, but most of them tossed their weapons aside and raised their hands.

“Cowards!” shouted the first soldier. “Get up and fight!”

Socks continued his calm forward pace until he stood close enough to sniff the nearest soldiers. One tried to play dead and two others hastily scrambled away. A fourth man whimpered and clutched his spear, unable to bring himself to stand up and fight. Socks said, -You cannot hurt me. I am being very patient because of Dirt and because you are harmless. But I will only be patient for so long and this gate is heavy. Want me to drop it?-

At least twenty men yelped and ran to get out from under it, and that was the last of the soldier’s formation. Socks let the gate slam onto the street, landing perfectly flat to make it louder. Then he stepped forward, on it and over, and approached the first soldier, the one who’d tried to rally them. He was the only one Dirt could see with a sword instead of a spear, and his helmet had ornamentation that stood out from the rest.

Dirt ran up to join Socks, since it looked like the fight had been avoided. He patted the pup’s leg and sent him a puff of affection. “Thanks for not killing them all. I think they’ll see reason if we can just talk a little.”

-I like that they were brave.-

“Me too. Did the gate make your feet sore?”

-No, it wasn’t for very long.-

“Good.”

The head soldier looked from Dirt to Socks and back again, face distraught. He was a young man as well, clean-shaven, with eyes nearly as dark as Hèctor’s that seemed to lurk inside his helmet. “Who are you?” he asked.

“Now this is a man among men!” said Ignasi, suddenly nearby. “See him, the man who keeps his wits the first time he meets Socks! And an angry Socks as well!”

“Which one is Socks?” he asked. “Whose voice was that?”

“We are having to repeat ourselves. If I explain again, will you promise to get word around so we don’t have to stop and tell every flower seller and urchin we come across?” said Ignasi, whose good humor continued to be perfectly at odds with the atmosphere of the area.

“Are we under attack?” asked the soldier.

-Not yet. If I felt like attacking, you’d know.-

“That’s…”

“Yes, friend, that’s the wolf. He speaks to your mind and uses a fortified gate like a woman’s fan, and a hundred other terrifying things. But a creature this handsome and dignified is only dangerous when he wishes to be. His name is Socks, which has a meaning I’m not going to share because you won’t believe me. And this is his little human, Dirt, whom he found somewhere and has been carrying around for company on his adventures.”

“That’s one way to put it,” said Dirt.

“Am I wrong?” asked Ignasi with an exaggerated flourish. The man was truly having a great time.

“No.”

“Then don’t complain. I am Ignasi, and this scowling grump is Hèctor, from the city of Nullor.”

“Why is the wolf here, though? And what happened to the gate?” said the soldier, still gripping his spear as if he hadn’t completely made up his mind.

Marina edged slightly in front of Ignasi and said, “The boy and wolf helped us find our way. I’m Marina Sumar, and twenty years ago, Oriol led a group of us to Nullor. I’ve returned. We need to speak with the Duke.”

“You’re from outside? We’re not cut off anymore?” asked the young soldier, his dark eyes gaining a glimmer of hope that softened his face considerably.

“We’re from outside,” said Hèctor. “You’re not cut off anymore, and neither are we.”

“Get the avitus first!” came a shout from a side alley. Startled, Dirt turned to see Vidal, his face red from exertion, leading a small group of guardsmen with bows. They saw Socks and trembled but kept their wits. “The boy in red!”

Vidal raised his bow in an instant and fired an arrow that took Dirt in the stomach. It felt like getting punched, the force of it knocking him backward. He stumbled and fell over, jarring the arrow further. It had gone straight through him and stuck there.

Vidal rose into the air, floated forward into the street, and screamed in horrified agony as his arms were torn off. Socks flung them around, spreading blood all over a nearby wall, then ripped him in half in a burst of bloody viscera, which dripped to the ground like rain. He dropped the remains right there with a wet, heavy thud, then plucked the guardsmen’s bows from their hands and broke them in half.

-I WARNED YOU.-

“Ow, that really, really hurts,” said Dirt, rising to his feet and plucking gingerly at his shirt. Tears came to his eyes and he started choking, trying not to cry. His stomach was agony and touching the arrow just made it worse.

“No!” whispered Marina, covering her mouth with her hands.

“Socks, can you just pull it out, please?” Dirt asked, voice tight.

The pup wasted no time and yanked it the rest of the way through. Dirt screamed and started crying in earnest. He awkwardly lifted his shirt and pulled it off.

Socks leaned down and started licking his wound. The pup licked him so much that saliva soaked his pants to the knees, but the blood soon stopped and the pain diminished.

Dirt turned around, still crying softly. “My back too,” he said.

Socks dutifully licked his back while Dirt tried to regain his composure. Even though the worst of the pain had been temporary, it still ached inside like he’d been punched.

When the wound on his back had closed sufficiently as well, Socks tenderly lifted him onto his back and laid him down. Dirt settled into the pup’s fur, still sniffling.

Ignasi was the first to speak. “It is always something new with these two,” he said, his voice warm and friendly. “They are a charming pair, aren’t they? Don’t worry about your shirt, Dirt. It can be washed and mended. It’ll be good as new.”

“Thanks,” said Dirt. He could hear everyone else’s horror in their silence, and that helped him settle down a little. Let them fret, stupid humans.

-How many more of you will I be killing today?- Socks asked, his voice protective and angry.

After only a short pause, the leading soldier shouted, “Cancel the alarms! Stand down!”