WIND SCENT

  Drak stirred as consciousness slowly returned to him. The warmth of the afternoon sun bore down on his face, making him squint against the light. His body felt sluggish, strangely heavy, his exhaustion still clinging to him.

  Something soft pressed against his cheek, thick fur, warm and tickling at the edges of his nose. His fingers twitched as he registered the musky scent of Nalli, earthy and wild. A dull headache pulsed at his temples, but his senses quickly returned to reality, piecing together where he was.

  Nalli was holding him near her abdomen, her body still, unmoving. Even as she was, her ears would perk at any sound, keeping alert for danger.

  Drak swallowed hard and slowly reached up, his fingers brushing against the thick fur at her side. He gripped it gently, to understand if he was dreaming or not. The events from earlier flashed through his mind; the hunt, the bear, and the gut-wrenching moment he had thought he was going to die.

  A lump formed in his throat. His chest tightening in turn, and before he could stop himself, a tear slipped down his cheek.

  “Thank you…” he whispered.

  Nalli stiffened at his touch, her golden eyes finding him with a casual tilt of her head.

  “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have chased after the deer.”

  Their eyes locked, and for a moment, she didn’t say anything. He braced himself for her usual scolding, expecting her to snap at him for his recklessness. Instead, she looked back into the distance while her voice came gentle.

  “It was a lesson, and you have much to learn. Do not let it cloud your mind.”

  Drak blinked up at her, surprised. No biting remark? No harsh reprimand? Just… reassurance?

  He let his head fall to his chest, but before he could dwell on it further, he felt a shift behind him, followed by sudden warmth against his neck. Hot breath ghosted over his skin next, and he barely had time to react before a wet, rough sensation dragged across the back of his neck and head.

  Drak flinched, instantly snapped out of his lingering despair.

  “What are you—?”

  Nalli licked him again, unbothered, this time soaking his whole head of moppy hair with her tongue.

  “You're dirty,” she said plainly.

  Drak stared up at her, completely dumbfounded.

  He couldn’t believe what was happening. Before he could react further, Nalli’s oversized tongue continued its quick, relentless, wet lapping against his head, each slimy swipe leaving a thick layer of saliva in its wake.

  “Nalli, stop! That’s so gross!” he cried out, trying to roll away.

  Except her claws clamped down on his shoulder, firm.

  “I am not finished.” she said matter-of-factly. “Quit squirming like a fish.”

  Drak groaned, his attempts to wriggle free proved useless against her sheer strength. Finally, with a desperate shove, he managed to break away, scrambling back onto his elbows by the remains of the fire. He ran a hand through his hair, only to grimace as his fingers came away damp with her direhound slobber.

  “Ugh! That was vile!” he sputtered, before pointing out, “You say you’re cleaning me, but your own muzzle is completely crusted with blood!”

  Nalli sniffed and rubbed the tips of her fingers across her snout. “Hmm. So it is.”

  Drak threw his hands up. “Then what was the point of—why would you even—what in the world possessed you to do that?!”

  Nalli simply stretched, yawning as if she hadn’t just assaulted him with her tongue. “When you act like a pup, you will get treated like one.”

  Drak groaned, wiping his wet hands across his trousers. "Unbelievable. I’m not even a direhound!”

  Still reeling from Nalli’s so-called cleaning, Drak grimaced as the slick layer of saliva clung stubbornly to his head. "Now I actually need a proper wash after that," he muttered, shaking his head in exasperation while quickly picking himself up and digging through his pack for a spare shirt to wipe himself off.

  Nalli watched him with an amused glint in her eye. “You should consider it an honor to be bathed like that.”

  Drak shot her a flat look as he aggressively scrubbed at his hair and face. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

  Shaking his head, he pulled out the map of Ardraelion, his eyes scanning the terrain. “There’s a lake not too far from here. We’re going to stop there so I can wash off all your slobber.” He hesitated before casting a glance her way. “And you should clean up too. You’re going to scare people looking like that.”

  As if that was the exact reaction she was playing for, Nalli flexed her claws and smirked, “They should be scared.”

  Drak sighed. “Yes, but we’re trying not to draw attention, remember?”

  She huffed but conceded with a flick of her tail. "Fine. But if anyone stares too long at you, I might just remind them why they should be afraid.”

  Drak glanced up at Nalli’s angular features and shook his head with a smirk. “You really are a menace, you know that?”

  She didn’t dignify him with a response, merely pinning back her ears as she adjusted the saddle harness.

  As she moved, a brief wince crossed her face. It was fleeting, but not quick enough to escape Drak’s notice.

  His brow furrowed into a more concerned note. “How are you holding up after the fight?”

  Nalli straightened immediately, her posture stiff with forced indifference. “I am fine. Just a bit of bruising.”

  Drak, however, wasn’t convinced. As he stepped closer, she instinctively held a hand over her side, as if to shield the wound he’d helped patch from his scrutiny. “Let me check your stitches.”

  She huffed in response, clearly irritated, but didn’t stop him as he knelt beside her. When she moved her hand away, he could see the wound was no longer raw, only faint redness and bruising remained around the sutures, the flesh mending into itself. His stitching had done its job.

  “You heal fast,” Drak murmured, running a careful finger along the edge of the old wound. “You’ll probably have a scar, but I can take these out now.”

  Nalli’s ears twitched, her pupils lingering on him. “Then hurry up and do it. I've grown wearisome of their itch.”

  “Yes, all-so-mighty direhound,” Drak said in an exaggeratedly reverent tone, dipping his head as if bowing to royalty.

  Nalli let out a low growl, but it lacked any real bite, and it was more reactionary than threatening. Drak’s lips curled upwards at the edges of his mouth, satisfied with his ability to get a rise out of her. Feeling steadier on his feet now, he retrieved his medical supplies, pulling out the scalpel and forceps within.

  “You're not going to start whining now, are you?” he teased, rolling the forceps between his fingers.

  Nalli snorted. “I should have let the bear finish you off. Maybe I’ll drown you later and continue on alone instead, all-so-puny human.”

  Drak chuckled as he went to work, carefully removing each of her sutures. To her credit, Nalli didn’t so much as flinch, her expression set in quiet defiance. He caught the faintest smirk tugging at the edge of her muzzle, one born out of satisfaction, no doubt, for proving her resilience.

  A few minutes later, the last stitch was out, and Drak leaned back, inspecting his handiwork. “Good as new,” he said, giving her side a light pat before standing.

  Nalli rolled her shoulder, testing the area before nodding. “I told you I was fine.”

  Drak shook his head with a grin. “Yeah, yeah. You’re as tough as they come, but you’re still washing all that blood off at the lake.”

  They spent the next half hour breaking down their camp. They’d made the process fairly efficient, each day on the road giving them more practice, testing faster methods that worked in their favor. While Drak packed, shaking out his bedroll and packing his gear, Nalli adjusted some straps on the saddle. She’d formed a habit of helping Drak position it into place before he made the final adjustments.

  Before long, Drak was mounted on her back, the midday sun warming his shoulders as they set off. The rhythmic beat of Nalli’s powerful strides were common to Drak now, the landscape shifting with each step. As always, the control collar rested snugly around her neck, listing slightly with her movements. She hadn’t removed it, not once, since they’d begun this journey after leaving Solace.

  Drak contemplated it for a moment before speaking. “When we get to the lake, do you want to take off the collar for a bit? I think it’ll be safe.”

  Nalli turned her head slightly, considering his offer. “Auka,” she finally said, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. “It itches, but I’ve grown used to its weight. It reminds me of my mission.”

  Drak nodded, knowing better than to ask further. “Alright. Just thought I’d offer.”

  They rode in silence for a while, the thumping sound of Nalli’s paws against the earth pock-marking the air. Then, on a whim, Drak leaned down over the saddle, reaching his hands toward the collar. He slid his fingers between the thick leather and her fur, scratching at the skin beneath.

  “How’s that feel, any better?” he asked.

  Nalli exhaled slowly, her ears flicking back. “Hmph. I will not admit that it feels good,” she muttered.

  He snickered to himself. “You just did.”

  Drak continued scratching under Nalli’s collar, shuffling the thick fur of her neck beneath his fingers. She let out a few low, satisfied grunts, her pace slowing slightly as she relished the attention. He let out a soft sigh, glad to return the favor in some small way. She had done plenty for him, not just by watching his back, but by literally keeping him alive. If a good scratch beneath the control collar could offer her a moment of relief, then he was happy to oblige.

  As he worked, a breeze picked up orienting from the Frostspires, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. Drak barely noticed it, but Nalli suddenly went rigid beneath him. Her ears shot up, her body tensing in alarm.

  “What’s wrong?” Drak asked, pulling his hand away. “Too much?”

  Nalli didn’t answer right away. Her nose twitched, inhaling deeply, but the wind had already died down to a negligible lull.

  “No, it's—I’m not sure…” she murmured. “Something on the wind.”

  Drak straightened in the saddle. “Like what?”

  Nalli’s brow furrowed. “It was faint, mixed with the trees and earth… but familiar.” Her voice carried an unease that sent goosebumps up Drak’s arms and legs.

  He studied her, watching the way the muscles beneath her fur and her jaw tensed, her eyes narrowing toward the distant tree line to their left.

  After a long moment, she spoke again. “We should put distance between us and the woods, let us make with speed and get to the lake...” There was an edge to her tone now, along with an allusion of something she wasn’t saying.

  Drak didn’t argue. If Nalli sensed something was wrong, that was good enough for him. He wasn’t ready to face another tremendous creature, like the silverback, any time soon.

  Without another word, she picked up momentum with haste, her powerful strides eating up the distance between them and their destination. Drak tightened his grip on the saddle frame, stealing a glance over his shoulder. The woods behind them stood still as they always had, yet the disquiet clung to them like a shadow.

  As they broke free from a final patch of sparse woodland trees, the landscape opened into a vast expanse of rolling fields, bathed in the golden hues of the afternoon sun. The tension that had gripped Nalli seemed to ease, though she still kept her ears pricked, her eyes sweeping the horizon. Drak took a steadying breath, feeling the unease in himself lift slightly now that they were out in the open. Whatever she had smelled back in the woods, it no longer lingered on the air.

  Ahead, placed before the backdrop of a mountain valley, the distant shimmer of the lake lay ahead, a welcome sight after the uneventful, yet unsettling stretch of travel. Still, Drak couldn't shake the feeling that they might have been watched from the shadows.

  ***

  As the afternoon waned, Drak and Nalli crested a gentle rise, revealing the lake sprawled before them like a sheet of polished glass. Set against the towering majesty of the Frostspire Mountains, the water lay perfectly still, mimicking the jagged peaks above with the same flawless clarity of a silver-coated mirror. The sky, too, a picturesque expanse of soft blues and wisps of white clouds, reflected upon the surface, creating an illusion of boundless space where earth and sky seemed to merge into one reality.

  On a mountainside in the great distance, a thin waterfall cascaded down a sheer cliffside, its water a ribbon of shimmering aluminum tumbling in a never-ending rush before vanishing into a hidden river that inevitably fed the lake. The faint hiss of the falling water, and the delicate trilling of birds echoed in the air, the only sound disturbing the perfect stillness of the scene before them. The world here seemed untouched. Pristine in nature, and unspoiled by human hands.

  The plains beneath the Frostspire Mountains had a reputation for their icy winds and frigid terrain, but today’s warmth felt almost unnatural. The sun hung suspended, its energetic rays turning the lake’s surface into a reflective, glistening expanse of light. The inviting weather, coupled with the grime and dried saliva that still clung to Drak like a second skin, made the thought of washing off in the crisp, clear water all the more enticing.

  The pair reached the water’s edge, where Drak pulled out his map, tapping a finger against the parchment to double-check their location. “Yep. This is it. Looks like it’s called Silverstream Lake.”

  He could barely contain his excitement. Days had passed since he’d had anything close to a real bath, and just imagining the cool water washing away the layers of sweat, dust, and Nalli’s earlier antics made him practically shiver in anticipation.

  Nalli, on the other hand, didn’t share his enthusiasm. She eyed the lake with a grumble, her tail swaying in mild irritation. “Do you really want me to wade into that? We Direhounds have other ways of keeping clean.”

  Drak folded the map and tucked it away with a smirk. “Yeah? Well, your ‘other ways’ aren’t doing you any favors. Right now, you look like something that crawled out of a battlefield pit. Blood and dirt aren’t a good look on you.”

  Without waiting for a retort, he swung his leg over her back and performed a haphazard slide to the ground. He took a few moments to disconnect the saddle from Nalli’s back, then turned, stretching as he walked along the water’s rock-ridged edge. The lake was certainly inviting, but he wasn’t about to strip down and dive in where just anyone could get a full view, especially not in front of Nalli.

  She watched him with mild amusement, her ears flicking. “Is there a reason you are pacing around like a nervous rabbit? The water is right there.”

  Drak ignored her and continued following the shoreline, scanning around for a bit of privacy. After a few minutes, he found what he was looking for: a cluster of large rocks jutting out from the water, forming a natural barrier. Perfect. Drak thought. He could bathe without feeling too exposed.

  “Found my spot,” he announced with satisfaction.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Nalli sighed dramatically but followed, her massive paws crunching against the pebbled shore. “Humans are so particular,” she muttered.

  Drak didn’t hesitate. This was what it was all about. He could embrace the freedom, the experience, and the thrill of being out in the world on his own terms. For so long, he had dreamed of adventure, and now, finally, he was living it.

  Grinning, he hopped down onto a lower rock, the waist-high barrier providing just enough cover as he hastily stripped down. Silverstream Lake awaited, untouched before him, its crystalline surface reflecting the towering Frostspire Mountains in the distance. The beautiful sight alone was invigorating.

  With barely a second thought, he turned and eased himself onto the rock’s edge, dipping his toes into the water. The moment he did, a sharp, icy sting shot through his limbs.

  “Oh, gods,” he muttered under his breath, teeth already clenched.

  The lake was freezing, no doubt fed by the relentless ice melt from the Frostspires. Yet, fighting off the numbing cold, it still felt more than incredible. The grime, sweat, and exhaustion of the past days seemed to wash away the moment he slid in deeper. He took a steadying breath, then plunged under entirely, his body jolting from the chill.

  When he surfaced, he slicked his hair back, taking a moment to float and soak in the stillness. The water was so clear he could see all the way to the rocky bottom, catching the occasional sight of fry or fingerlings darting from cover to cover. Letting himself drift, he swam slow, languid circles, relishing the sensation of true cleanliness for the first time in days.

  Pushing off, he ventured away from the safety of the rocks, no longer concerned about being seen, all thanks to the water’s refracting nature. He glanced over at Nalli, who still stood on the shore, watching him with a dull expression.

  “Come on, you big fur-ball,” he called out, teasing her with a lopsided grin. “W-Water’s fine.”

  Nalli let out a long, exaggerated sigh, her ears flicking in irritation. She stepped forward, dipping a single massive paw into the water, and immediately recoiled.

  "This is absurd," she grumbled. "You actually enjoy freezing yourself?"

  Drak laughed, floating lazily on his back. "It’s called refreshing," he corrected as his teeth chattered. "Besides, you need it more than I do. You reek, Nalli."

  She scowled at him, her sharp teeth flashing into a half-snarl. "We direhounds clean ourselves just fine. A proper cloth bath or a good roll in some dust works just as well."

  Drak smirked, paddling in place. "Yeah? You gonna find a patch of grass big enough to get the dried blood off your fur? Or are you just hoping people assume you lost a fight with a wine barrel again?"

  Nalli’s head flicked to the side in mild embarrassment, remembering how they had first met. She huffed. "You are still a naked cretin."

  "And you’re still filthy," Drak shot back.

  Nalli rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. Then, with an almost theatrical display of reluctance, she waded in, one slow step at a time. The moment the water reached her chest, nearly fifty paces out into the water, she let out a low, guttural growl.

  "This is torture."

  Drak snorted after swimming out to meet her. "Oh, come on. You're built for the cold, aren’t you? Big, tough direhound?"

  Nalli shot him a glare before shaking out her fur, sending a spray of ice-cold droplets in his direction.

  Drak sputtered, throwing his arms up in defense. "Hey! You menace!"

  A deep, rumbling chuckle escaped Nalli’s throat. "You asked for this, soft-paw."

  Before Drak could react, she lunged forward, sending a massive wave his way. He barely had time to take a breath before he was engulfed, tumbling beneath the surface in a chaotic swirl of limbs and bubbles.

  When he resurfaced, coughing and wiping water from his face, Nalli stood smugly nearby, her tail cutting lazy ripples through the water.

  "Argh, yeah," Drak groaned, shaking his head, before pushing his dripping hair back as he tread water. "Definitely regretting saving your life. You’re enjoying this way too much,"

  Nalli merely let out a playful hum, wading through the water with a newfound ease now that she was accustomed to the temperature. "I have to find amusement where I can," she said. "And watching you flail around like a drowned pup is very amusing."

  Drak took a deep breath and huffed, deciding it was time to get out before she found another excuse to dunk him. He took a few moments to wash before he swam back toward the rocky outcropping and hoisted himself up onto the smooth stone, shivering as the open air met his soaked skin. He quickly reached for his shirt, shaking out the excess water before wrapping it around his waist.

  "You are awfully shy for someone who was just parading himself around the water without a care," Nalli mused as she paddled closer to the shore.

  Drak shot her a look. "Not all of us walk around covered in fur all the time. Some of us have modesty."

  Nalli dipped her head into the water, emerging a moment later, the remnants of the silverback’s blood washed clean. "Modesty is a human burden. You looked plenty free in the water. What changed?" she said.

  Drak scowled, tightening the makeshift wrap around his waist. "It’s different when you’re actually in the water," he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Nalli let out a short, barking laugh before stepping out of the lake herself. The moment she reached dry land, she got on all fours, bracing herself before she shook. Hard.

  A spray of cold water blasted out in every direction, and Drak, standing only a few feet away, was caught in the collateral downpour. He yelped, throwing his arms up in a useless attempt to shield himself as another wave of ice-cold droplets pelted his skin.

  "Nalli!" he shouted, already feeling the fresh dampness seep into his barely-dry skin.

  She stopped, looking entirely too pleased with herself. "What? I thought you liked being wet," she said innocently.

  Drak wiped his face with a hand and glared at her. "I liked bathing. I don’t like that."

  Nalli then stretched, her tail flying in the air behind her in glee as she padded over to where their belongings were. "Consider it repayment for all your teasing," she said. "Besides, it is only fair. You forced me in the water in the first place."

  Drak exhaled sharply, deciding it wasn’t worth the argument. Instead, he grabbed his dry clothes and started pulling them on.

  "You’re impossible," he muttered under his breath.

  Nalli’s ears rotated in his direction, catching his words. She grinned through her teeth, but said nothing, letting him stew as she settled down on a wide and flat, sun-warmed rock, stretching out to dry in the afternoon heat.

  The warmth of the afternoon sun fell over them, drying their damp bodies as they sat in a comfortable silence. Drak stretched his legs out over the rock he was on, arms behind his head, simply enjoying the rare moment of peace. The journey had been exhausting, but right now, with the cool air against his skin and the scent of fresh water in his lungs, he felt more full of life than he ever had been.

  Nalli, nearby, would occasionally lift her tail before letting it fall with a thump, as if lost in thought. For a while, neither of them spoke. They listened to the sounds of the distant rushing waterfall and the occasional chirping of unseen birds in the trees beyond the shoreline.

  Then, over time, there was a subtle change.

  Drak noticed it first when the rhythmic tap of Nalli’s tail stilled. Her ears, once relaxed, were now pinned back. Her golden eyes had lost their usual edge, instead clouded with something he couldn’t quite place.

  Drak, pushing himself up onto his elbows, frowned. “You okay?”

  The direhound didn’t answer at first. She stared out across the water as if watching something far away, something only she could see. Then, after another pause, she exhaled slowly and turned her head to meet his eyes.

  “Our journey may become more dangerous than I originally thought,” she said at last. Her voice was quieter, coming in a cadence of thoughtful measure.

  Drak sat up fully now, his easy-going relaxation gone. “What do you mean?”

  Nalli hesitated for a long moment before she spoke again. “Back in the Veil,” she began, “before I stumbled into human territory… I was attacked.”

  Drak’s brows furrowed. He knew that much, at least, but the exact circumstances were a mystery to him. “Attacked? By what?”

  Nalli’s face took on a shadowed expression. “Not what,” she corrected. “Who.” Her voice was laced with contempt, and, perhaps, something close to fear. “The Black Thorn.”

  Drak stiffened. The name alone carried a foreboding that made his stomach twist. “The Black Thorn?”

  She exhaled through her nose in a brisk puff of escaping air, ears perked upright as she stared past him, lost in thought. “I saw him before, back in the Nightmoon Veil. He was always there, lurking, listening. A shadow on a diplomatic mission who arrived almost three full moon cycles ago. Slinking about, watching, waiting, like he had all the time in the world.” Her claws flexed in the air. “Poseks in the Veil are rare. I have only ever seen two others before in my life… but he was not the envoy he played himself to be. It came to be, that he was a master assassin.”

  Drak’s stomach knotted at the word. He recalled what the female Mounted Expeditionary had told him of the Poseks during his trip to Tribute. From what she had said, Poseks were already dangerous enough on their own. But an assassin? That was something else entirely.

  “He almost killed me,” Nalli admitted, her claws flexing against the rock beneath her. “If I had not fought back when I did, if I had not been lucky when I fell, I would not be here right now.”

  Drak swallowed, the pit forming in his gut deepening. “So you think he’s still after you?”

  Nalli looked out toward the distant mountains. “I do not know,” she admitted. “I thought I could detect his scent on the wind back in the woods. Someone like him… someone with that level of combat ability… I doubt he would give up so easily.”

  Drak felt a chill, and not from the water this time. “How dangerous are we talking?”

  Nalli’s expression turned grim as she looked back to him. “More dangerous than that silverback grizzly,” she said. “More dangerous than anything I have ever faced alone.”

  Drak’s mouth went dry. The thought of something more dangerous than that bear, something that could be actively hunting them, sent an involuntary shiver down his spine.

  Suddenly, he realized this wasn’t just an adventure anymore. This wasn’t just about escaping the vineyard and seeking the thrill of the world.

  Now it was becoming a real life or death situation.

  Drak let out a slow breath, taking all the pieces of the story in. “Well,” he said, forcing some steadiness into his voice. “That’s… definitely something we should prepare for.”

  Nalli nodded, though the look in her eyes and posture were still distant. “I wanted to tell you sooner,” she admitted. “But I was not sure if he would still be after me. Now… I am not so sure anymore. If I could scent him on the wind, it means he may be far closer that I care to admit. Bathing, right now, might have been the smartest thing for us to do. It may throw off our trail.”

  Drak rubbed the back of his neck, glancing toward the trees behind them. He felt exposed with their shadow to his back, more exposed than bathing naked in Silverstream Lake. “Alright,” he said. “Then we keep moving. We stay sharp. And, uhm, if this Black Thorn assassin guy shows up again…” He hesitated before offering her a half-smile. “Well, I’ll just have to make sure you don’t get too lucky next time. I’d like to think I’m decent backup.”

  Nalli snorted, shaking her head. “Soft-paw, you wouldn’t last five seconds against him.”

  Drak laughed dryly, though it didn’t quite reach Nalli’s ears. “Maybe not,” he admitted. “But I’ll be damned if I don’t try.”

  Nalli regarded him for a moment before her ears twitched forward again, and some of her usual acuteness returned. She gave a dramatic exhale and stood up, stretching out her limbs.

  Drak ran a hand through his damp hair, his expression morphing into character more resolute. “I mean it, Nalli. I’ve been fumbling my way through this, letting you do all the heavy lifting. But if we’re really going to do this, if I’m really going to be your partner, I need to get serious. No more stumbling around like some clueless farmhand. I need to train, to practice, and learn how to survive with you out here.”

  Nalli tilted her head, studying him from head to foot. “Nokel-katantik. You sound determined.”

  “I am,” he said firmly. “I won’t be dead weight. If I can’t be stronger, then I’ll be smarter. If I can’t fight like you, then I’ll fight my own way. But I won’t sit back and let you carry all the risk of facing off against something like that alone.”

  For a moment, she said nothing, just watching him with those incredible, lupine eyes. Then, after what felt like an eternity, she gave a small huff, whether it was reluctant approval or mild amusement, was beyond the human in front of her. “Well,” she said, “at least you finally figured that out. Come. We should get moving before I start smelling like something worse than danger.”

  Drak raised a suspicious brow. “Like what?”

  She smirked. “You. Even after that bath, you still reek.”

  “Seriously?” he muttered, raising his arms to smell himself. When he didn’t detect anything odorous, Nalli rolled back, cackling on her haunches. Drak groaned, rolling his eyes as he pushed himself to his feet.

  As he dressed and packed up to move on, Drak couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder, half-expecting a shadow to be lurking just beyond the trees. He repeated the name in his head.

  The Black Thorn…

  As Drak clambered up into the saddle, the conversation about the posek assassin lingering like a portentous cloud in the back of his mind as they continued navigating the shoreline of Silversteam Lake. The path curved gently, leading them through a stretch of dense trees where the undergrowth grew thick, providing a secluded vantage point along the lake’s edge. The air here was crisp, carrying the faint, lingering, pine scent of the Frostspire Mountains.

  As they rounded a bend, Drak caught sight of something moving on the opposite shore. A column of dark shapes emerged from the northern treeline, their steady progress marked by the rhythmic chugging of a Dickins steam engine. Drak frowned, patting Nalli’s shoulder to halt her.

  “Hold up,” he murmured, his voice low.

  Nalli instantly stilled, she heard it too. Her ears perked as she followed his gaze. From their cover, they could see the caravan more clearly now: a type of long, metal-framed transport, its wheels grinding over the dirt as it slowed to a grind where the lake tapered into a narrow stream. The engine hissed, releasing plumes of white steam into the air. Around it, men in uniform moved about, their voices echoing across the water as they barked orders.

  Drak narrowed his eyes to get a better look. The hulking, industrial transport engine lumbered along a wide trail on heavy, riveted wheels before it finally came to a screeching stop. The engine was constructed of heavy, metal plates, while a riveted boiler and a squat smokestack sat atop a steel chassis. Connected in tow behind it, rattled a line of cargo; but it wasn’t just hauling freight. It was hauling cages.

  Nalli shifted beneath him, her nostrils flaring as she took in the air. A low, warning growl rumbled deep in her throat.

  “Anirnaq—Direhounds, Drak,” she whispered, the words laced with anger.

  Drak’s stomach turned. He squinted against the afternoon sun, trying to see what she was alluding to. Sure enough, within each of the four large metal cages succeeding the engine, the silhouette of a direhound loomed. They were hunched, subdued, their powerful silhouettes barely shifting as they were carted like animals.

  Drak clenched his jaw. He had a suspicion of what this was.

  Based on the direction the caravan was traveling, these were free direhounds, captured in the North, far beyond the reach of Tribute’s domesticated population. These were not direhounds born into servitude. These were free beings, stolen from their lands, their fate sealed by whatever purpose these uniformed men had for them.

  A cold ripple went through him as memory surfaced. The hours spent hunched over dusty tomes back in Tribute’s library, learning more than he ever wanted to know about direhound laws. The treaty that forged peace between humans and direhounds had been explicit: the enslavement of free direhounds was now strictly forbidden. It expressed that there were to be no collars, no forced bonds, and no claiming ownership over those born beyond Humanity’s domain.

  Yet, here they were, caged, transported, and violated in the very way the new law was meant to prevent.

  Beside him, Nalli’s breathing grew heavier, her fur bristling along her neck. Drak didn’t need to ask what she was thinking. He could feel it in the air between them, the raw, simmering fury.

  For all the steps humanity had taken to integrate and tame the direhounds of Ardraelion into human society, in the eyes of many, they were still nothing more than property, mere beasts to be caught, broken, and used.

  Drak exhaled slowly, forcing his hands to unclench. This was bad.

  Very bad.

  Judging by the way Nalli’s muscles became rigid beneath her fur, she wasn’t about to let it slide.

  Nalli's breathing came in heaving bursts, her enormous chest rising and falling with barely contained rage. Her fur bristled, and her lips curled back, exposing her gleaming fangs in a silent snarl. The nails of her sharp paws dug into the earth, her entire body seething on the verge of blowout.

  "This is wrong," she growled, her voice overflowing with fury as she turned her head to look at him. "Disgusting, what your kind does. I cannot stand by and watch more of my kin be stolen and enslaved by humans." Her ears pinned back, her tail twitching behind her like an agitated viper. "I have to do something."

  Drak swallowed hard, his mind racing. He could see the fire burning in her amber eyes, the raw, unfiltered hatred boiling beneath the surface. He had seen Nalli angry before, but this was different. This was personal.

  "Wait, Nalli, think," he said carefully, his hands resting on the top of her head. "Rushing in isn’t going to help them. There are at least a dozen armed guards down there, and you're—” he caught himself before saying you're just one direhound, knowing it wouldn't go over well. Instead, he tried a different approach. “We need a plan."

  Nalli, however, barely heard him. Her pupils became pinpoints, remaining fixated on the caged direhounds, her nostrils flaring as if she could already taste the steel and blood in the air.

  Then, a low hum vibrated through the sky, growing steadily into a deep, mechanical whirring. Drak's head snapped up just in time to see the clouds part, revealing the shadowy form of a massive airship descending into the open expanse half a league beyond the caravan.

  The vessel was immense, its reinforced hull gleaming in the fading sunlight. Great billowing smokestacks released steady plumes of steam as the bulbous air vessel maneuvered into position, its engines thrumming as it prepared to land.

  Drak pieced it together, understanding what this must have meant.

  The plan was obvious now. These men were likely moving the direhounds someplace hidden within Ardraelion, where they would eventually be tamed, broken, and sold to the highest bidder.

  His stomach twisted. He wasn’t stupid. He had always assumed that wild direhounds were still being captured, knowing the murkiest of men would do anything for a profit; but seeing it happen, right here, with Nalli beside him, made it feel different. It made reality slap him across the face.

  Nalli let out a low, dangerous growl, and Drak felt his own heart start to race. He could see the fight in her posture, the way her muscles now bunched beneath her fur. She was going to charge in, whether he liked it or not.

  He glanced at the sky. The light was dimming.

  Most airships wouldn’t set sail in the dark, not unless they had a death wish and no other choice. Navigation was treacherous without clear visibility of the land below. That meant one thing.

  We have until sunrise to act.

  Drak clenched his fists. He needed to make a choice. Fast.

  He forced himself to think through the whirlwind of emotions crashing inside him. His gut twisted at the risks ahead. If they failed, Nalli could end up captured herself, or worse, injured or killed; and, if he was caught aiding a wild direhound against an operation like this, he could be branded a traitor, a criminal against the state. His life in Tribute, his family’s vineyard, everything he had ever known, could be lost. In the end, who would the authorities believe? It would be his words against an entire outfit.

  Except, when he looked at Nalli, he saw the fire burning in her eyes, and the unwavering defiance in her posture. She was going to do this, no matter what. If he turned his back now, she’d charge in alone, and he knew what that meant.

  She wouldn’t survive.

  He exhaled sharply. “That airship isn’t going anywhere tonight,” he said. “They won’t take off until morning when the sun’s up. Navigating in the skies in the dark is too dangerous.”

  Nalli didn’t take her eyes off her people. Her claws twitched, ready to dig into something. “That gives me time.”

  “Yeah,” Drak admitted, recalling the promise he made to her earlier in the day. “But not much. We’ll do this together, but we need to be smart about it. If we go in now, we’re done before we reach the cages. If we wait, watch, and find an opening, we might actually have a chance.”

  He adjusted his focus to the humans gathered near the caravan. Something about them stood out. Their uniforms were simple. They were practical, but—

  No insignia, and no rank markings.

  They weren’t military.

  That was good.

  “That’s a private outfit,” Drak muttered, more to himself than Nalli. “Privateers. Not soldiers.”

  Nalli finally turned her head toward him, the corner of her eye twitching. “That makes a difference?”

  “Maybe,” Drak said, his mind working fast. Privateers weren’t bound by the same strict protocols as military personnel. That meant they likely wouldn’t be as rigid. Maybe even sloppy. Another glance in the direction of the caravan confirmed his suspicions. Across the water, a privateer was unloading a wooden crate from the rear of the steam engine, moments later producing a bottle containing a brown liquid from within its contents, and quickly drank from it before passing it on to another one of his compatriots.

  They’re drinking… already? Drak thought.

  It was the opening they needed.

  “Nalli,” Drak said, taking a courageous inhale, before finally speaking with certainty. “I think I have a plan.”

  Direhound Language Glossary by Alphabetical Order

  A

  AkKalajuks – Ants

  Anniasuitik – Shaman of Medicine

  Anirnaq – The First Direhounds

  Anirniq – Soul

  Anga – Yes

  Atsinguak – Gift

  Auka – No

  I

  Ijik – Eye(s)

  Ikialuit! – Damnit or damn you, depending on phrasing.

  Ilisimaik – Craziness

  Ipatsik – Understand

  Ipvit – You

  K

  Kaijuuti – Coyote Tribe

  Kakiannangituk – Unpleasant

  Kavinguak – Much noise

  Kulgoskarrik – A lizard, known for dropping its tail when frightened with a sudden loud burst

  Kutsutak – Yellow

  Kuviasotikak – Ridiculous

  M

  Mitappuk(s) – Joke(s)

  N

  Nakummek – Thank you

  Nalligik – Love(s)

  Nokel-katantik – Honorable

  Nuni Lunikk – Moon Mother

  Nunivak – Pick berries

  Nutaqq – Child

  O

  Omajualuk – Monster

  P

  Paunngak – Berries

  Pattangaititsik – Protecting

  Piujuk – Good

  Piunngituk Silatsuak – Bad Earth

  Pijagia-keh – Different

  Pilluak – Smart, clever, skillful

  Pitsatujuk – Powerful

  Q

  Qilakpaangut – sky-eyed wanderer who flies like a startled birdling

  Qimmit – Dog (or like a dog)

  S

  IkKumanngituk – Stupid

  Siku – Ice

  Siitani – Star cycles, or revolutions around the sun

  Sungittotanuk – A symbol

  T

  Tatannamek – Amazed / How Fascinating!

  Takutsuapuk – Kindness

  Tatsika Napattulik – The Darkened Forest

  Tillia-Kattak – Vermin

  Tikatsiak – Strong twine

  U

  Ukalik – Hare

  Ukausik – Language of Direhounds

  Ukiuq – Winter

  Ullak – Morning

  NOTABLE NAMES

  Nalligik-Paunngak Kutsutak-Ijik (Nalli) – Love(s) Berries Yellow-Eyes

  Akkitu-kumik Taggana-Tak (Umbra) – Soft-Scratch Shadow-Side

  NOTABLE PHRASES

  (Uvaguk or Uvak)-kaik sollu pitsiak. Pik sivo-ganik – (We or I) Come as kin. Do not fear.

  Sakkik sollu pitsiak! Ipvut napaq kunulik… Amarik! – Appear as kin! But stand with… enemy!

  Qamut qimmit! Pilluq! – Cowardly dogs! Move!

  Sunas pait mittsikappuk, atiq? – What is your real/true name?

  Nuti Nannguk Kunnak – Great Fault of Kunnak

  Takutsuapuk aje atsinguak – Kindness is a treasure

  ? Tyler Tkach. All rights reserved.Vine & Fang posted for free reading. Redistribution prohibited.