The night was windless and quiet and neither Dirt nor Socks had any trouble sleeping there, huddled together in the open plain. Despite the snow that fell and tickled his nose, Dirt stayed pleasantly warm, even when it melted and dripped down his chest.

  The storm passed and morning came slowly, with Dirt waking early and not wanting to move because the moment he did, the cold air would get in. His hair was soaking and his face was damp, but huddled below the breezes, it gave him no chill. It would, though, the moment Socks woke up and stretched.

  Socks didn’t stretch first thing when he woke, fortunately. He dug Dirt’s clothing out of the snow and lifted it with his mind where the boy could see. Dirt summoned hot embers to circle and dry them off, but it took quite a while. Long enough they both started feeling hungry and wondering if there was anything to eat but grass and snow.

  Once Dirt’s clothing was dry, Socks finally uncurled and stretched. Dirt landed feet-first in the snow and got dressed faster than he ever had in his life, before even the leftover heat had faded from the cloth. Socks licked him, then said, -Oops, I will get you wet if I do that.-

  “If you only lick me a little it’s fine,” said Dirt. The pup’s tongue had been warm, actually. The thin layer of saliva, a little less so.

  -No, I must take good care of you, or you will freeze. You stayed warm last night, didn’t you?-

  “Yep, plenty warm. It was comfortable, too. Did I make your front leg sore by sitting on it all night?”

  -A little, but you are not very heavy and it is already fading.- Socks raised his head and looked around. There wasn’t much to see, though. Just flat fields of snow. Then he happily lolled his huge tongue out and said, -So when did you learn to move things with your mind?-

  “Just a couple days ago. I haven’t even had a lot of time to practice.”

  -I wonder if you’re the first human to ever do that.-

  “Probably not, but I’m not sure how anyone else would have figured it out. I only did because I watched you so much. I was just playing around with a spell when I thought of it.”

  -We’ll have to think of some new games to play, now that you can do it too,-- said Socks, his mind already rolling to come up with ideas.

  “You’ll be way better at it. At first, anyway!” said Dirt, implying a challenge.

  Socks looked back to give him a disbelieving glance with one eye, then snorted. Dirt grinned.

  There was a pause, so Dirt asked aloud, “Home, can you make me any sap? Or are you too far away?” Several breaths later, the brace trembled slightly. Just a few tremors and that was all. So that was a no.

  -Did you not eat much yesterday?- asked Socks.

  “Not really. I had some sap in the morning, before the trees sent me over. That was a really long day,” said Dirt.

  -Then we shall hunt along the way.-

  “Where are we going first?”

  -The place Father said to kill everything. Perhaps we can eat whatever is there, if it is not disgusting,- said Socks, thinking of the abominations they’d been facing.

  “I’m not hungry enough to eat tentacles yet,” said Dirt. “And by the way, once the fight starts, you know I won’t be able to use the staff, right? Just my knife. So we’ll have to be careful.”

  -I know. Do not fret, little Dirt. You are useful in a fight but seldom necessary. Now back up because I am going to shake all this snow off me.-

  Dirt stood up and hurried a short distance away through the snow, which was up to his waist now.

  Socks rose lumbering to his feet, clumps of snow bigger than Dirt was falling away and hitting the ground with a thump. The big pup shook from nose to tail and flung off all the rest, sending some of it flying quite a distance. Then he wagged his tail, pleased with himself.

  Dirt nodded appreciatively and said, “It looks like that works better with snow than water.”

  -I can fling the water off, too,- said Socks.

  “But not as well.”

  Socks examined his harness, making sure the flaps were closed and everything was in good order. He pulled this way and that, adjusting it into just the right position. Then he surprised Dirt by grabbing him and lifting him up for a lick. -Do you want to ride curled up in one of the pockets? I bet you could fit.-

  “Maybe if I get too cold. But I like my spot.”

  -It feels weird not having you there. When I was with Father and my siblings I kept feeling like I dropped something.-

  The pup deposited Dirt on his back and Dirt lay down and snuggled in for a run. The clouds were breaking up, making the landscape an uncanny contrast. Unbroken, perfectly flat white ground as far as he could see, even from up here, ending in a horizon so flat he could’ve drawn it with a ruler. Above, startlingly blue sky where the clouds withdrew into white clumps and floated away.

  -Keep an eye out for birds. I’ll let you know if I smell anything worth hunting.-

  Socks left at a good run, then picked it up bit by bit until Dirt said the wind was getting too cold. Then he slowed slightly, and that was the pace. Dirt mostly lay there, enjoying the warmth and the smell of the pup’s fur. He watched the land and sky out of the corner of his eye, but there wasn’t much to see.

  They spent the morning chatting with each other and playing imagination games. Dirt showed more of the elemental and explained how he’d talked with her, and Socks talked about some of the adventures his siblings had been on. Big Brother had found a turtle as big as he was, and Sister had dug up some bones that were bigger even than Father, which were too large for her to put them back together to see what they’d belonged to. Father refused to say.

  In is eagerness, Socks kept running faster and faster, which made the wind on Dirt unbearable until the pup finally decided a mental shield to block the air was worth the effort.

  It worked far better than he expected, once he realized he should curve it. Instead of all the added weight of the air against the shield holding him back, it softened the air his body ran through and allowed him to go even faster with less effort. That was a delightful discovery, and he raced faster than Dirt was strictly comfortable with from sheer joy.

  Dirt lay on his back the whole time and watched for birds, as instructed. The storm must have scared them off, though, because there wasn’t a single one anywhere for several hours. When he finally spotted one, he almost forgot he was supposed to be paying attention.

  Dirt watched eagerly as it flew closer and got bigger, hoping it would turn out to be big enough to eat. Even just a snack would be nice.

  But it kept getting bigger and Dirt realized it wasn’t a regular bird. It was far too large for that, and it was carrying something. Not a gryphon, either, which was the largest flying thing he’d ever seen. This might be even bigger, all black; or so it looked from down here.

  “Hey, Socks, what is that?” he asked.

  The pup slid to a stop and looked up, but he couldn’t see as well at a distance and had no answer. They waited until it passed by, not quite overhead, and headed roughly the same direction they’d been going. It came in range of their mind-sight, and its mind was very bird-like, but awfully clever. It lacked that ‘almost smart enough’ quality the gryphons had, its thoughts complex and colorful. It was probably as smart as Dirt was.

  It saw them with perfect clarity despite the distance, and it knew what a wolf was. Once it was confident that Socks was watching it, it cycled its thoughts between several images of nests, each in different directions and found in different scenery.

  -It doesn’t want me to know where it’s going,- said Socks. -It must be going home to eat.-

  The trick didn’t work, of course; Dirt and Socks both had way too much experience prying hidden thoughts open. The problem was that they had no idea where anything was, so seeing its true nest atop some sort of rocky place didn’t help much.

  “Can we chase it?” asked Dirt, hunger gnawing at him. He really needed to learn how to make his own sap.

  As if in reply, the bird angled sharply in a different direction, its huge black form cutting the air like an enormous knife. It glided low to the ground and flapped hard, sending it racing forward.

  -Want to? I think whatever it was carrying is alive. I didn’t get a good look at its mind because it was too far. But maybe it’s food and we can steal it.-

  “Well, we haven’t seen anything else to eat. Let’s go!”

  Dirt rolled to his stomach and grabbed onto the harness, so at least he wouldn’t pull Socks’ fur if he was about to get tossed.

  The pup raced forward with a surge of mana, so fast that Dirt’s feet floated in the air until he got himself back under control. Socks kept the round wall of force in front of him and gave chase

  The bird certainly didn’t make itself easy prey. Flying low was almost enough to lose them—if they’d been just a bit slower, it would have escaped out of view over the horizon. Even so, Socks had a hard time keeping up. It kept turning, hoping to lose them, and flew so low to the ground that it left feather marks in the snow in some places.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Suddenly Socks stopped and sniffed the air. -I’m going to let it think it got away, and follow by scent. If it stays low, I can follow right to its nest, and if it flies high, you can spot it.-

  “And maybe if it realizes we’re still chasing it after that, it’ll drop its food and we can eat it.”

  -You will not want to eat it.-

  “Why not?”

  -Because it’s carrying a human female. I can smell her. Young. An adolescent. She is not well.-

  That changed the whole mood of the hunt in an instant. For Dirt, at least. Socks wasn’t too concerned, which was understandable. “Where did it find a human?”

  -Father showed us where to find human places, but none of them are close. I wonder.-

  Dirt sent a mental nod and sat up so he could watch the skies, keeping a firm grip on the harness. Humans were pretty far down the list of priorities, but if they found one, they’d have to take her back, wouldn’t they? If she was alive in the first place, which seemed unlikely.

  Socks waited a bit longer than Dirt thought was necessary, then ran forward again. Not as fast this time, because he had to make sure he didn’t lose the scent, and that also kept him from using the mental shield to block the air. Which made Dirt’s face awfully cold. Dirt changed his mind about keeping a constant eye upward and chose instead to just peer around every now and then so he could keep his nose out of the wind.

  The first scenery came into view. Socks ran past a group of ragged trees with no leaves. The snow melted in the sunlight and dripped down from them like rain, but there was still plenty in the branches. It’d be a few more days until they were bare again. After seeing those trees, they found more. A few pines here, a few tall, bare ones there. And some hills, finally, to break up the landscape. Some dips and curves. With all the snow, though, it was hard to get a sense of what the area looked like normally.

  A row of short mountains came into view, slowly rising from the horizon like a pale bubble as they got closer. Socks lost the scent, but there was no doubt anymore where their prey had ended up.

  It was really just a few large hills, perhaps too small to be called proper mountains. Three or four of them in one clump, all with flat tops of differing heights. Trees grew up and down the sides but left the tops bare.

  -This is where Father told us to go kill everything,- said Socks, taking stock of his direction sense.

  “I guess we got lucky, then. We should probably go slow and sneak up on them, but I want to go fast and see if we can save that girl,” said Dirt.

  -It’s probably already eating her. I bet it fed her to its young, if it has any.-

  “Then we’ll surprise it mid-meal.”

  -Perhaps. Hold tight.-

  Dirt didn’t need to be told, but he gripped the harness even harder anyway. He filled himself with mana, sending it to strengthen his skin and bones until he needed it for something else. Socks filled himself with mana as well and ran forward in a wild flurry, kicking up snow ten paces in the air behind him.

  They spotted the great bird’s mind at the same time, and it wasn’t alone. There were four more, and from their minds, it seemed none were hatchlings. Socks dashed up the canyon between the two closest flat mountaintops, which was really more of a long, sloping hillside with plenty of open area devoid of trees. He slowed once he realized the ground was all boulders under the snow. He looked with ghost sight to keep from slipping and snapping a leg, and that’s when the birds noticed their approach.

  All five of them flapped and flew upward into view, shrieking at deafening volume. To Dirt’s eyes, they were hideous. They weren’t all black like he’d thought; their feathers were only black at the tips and lightened to a dingy yellow-gray near their bodies, with bulbous lumps of red flesh around their necks and ankles. Their heads were bare of any feathers at all, showing skin that was the blackest part of them. Their eyes were quick and sharp, with beaks like gryphons. The girl was on the ground somewhere farther in, if she wasn’t in their stomachs already. Probably just one stomach, since any of them looked big enough to eat Dirt whole. Just one wing was longer than Socks’ body, including his tail.

  One shrieked, facing them directly, and Dirt saw a wave of force shoot from its mouth faster than a sling shot. It knocked him clear off Socks’ back and twenty paces back down the boulder-strewn canyon, where he bounced twice before landing against something hard and stopping.

  He picked himself up piece by piece, making sure nothing important was broken. The mana he’d stored up only moments before had saved him, but it had been close. He was almost completely drained of it now. Just enough to strengthen one arm and pull himself out from between the boulders where he’d landed.

  Socks was more than they could handle, though, at least so far. He ripped all the feathers from the wings of that closest one, yanking so hard with his mind that his body shook, and they almost didn’t come out even then. But when they tore free, Socks leaped on it and twisted its neck so hard its massive head came off in his teeth. He spat it out and growled.

  A giant bird dove at him, beak first until the last second when it extended its black claws. A second bird dove in from another angle, and only when Socks jumped away from the first one did Dirt see why. It was a trap.

  Dirt yanked his dagger free and flung it at the second bird, straightening the throw and pushing it faster with his mind. Despite the blade spinning wildly, Dirt scored a lucky hit on its neck near the breast. The dagger sank in past the pommel and Dirt lost sight of it, but it startled the bird enough to disrupt its dive, right for where Socks landed.

  Socks struck it with his mind, using that tree-piercer that Father had shown him. Despite the bird’s bulk, it was flung upward and to the side but not killed. Punctured and bleeding, but not harmed enough to slow it down. Dirt could feel it—they used mana to protect themselves.

  The other two birds staggered attacks at Socks, one coming on the tail of the other, but this time Socks was ready for them and jumped out of the way each time. One of them did another percussive shout, striking Socks full in the side and knocking him over. He rolled sideways once, landed on his feet, and snarled.

  The other bird tried the same attack, but Socks deflected it with his mental shield. He picked up a boulder from under the snow and tossed it upward. It struck its target, but the bird just pushed off with its claws and was flung higher, unharmed. The boulder crashed down so hard it shattered.

  The one with Dirt’s dagger in its neck struggled to get airborne again, so perhaps Dirt had done more damage than he thought. The bloody wound made finding his dagger impossible anymore, so there was no chance of getting it back until the thing died. “I’ll kill this one,” said Dirt, indicating mentally which one he meant.

  Socks turned his attention back to the other three, two of which were repeating the staggered dives.

  Dirt bounced up the canyon like a bug, filling himself with more mana as he went. The injured bird saw him coming, but it wasn’t expecting the sudden explosion of speed. Dirt planted both feet on a boulder and jumped with all the force the mana would give him, and he shot like an arrow right past Socks and hit it near its injury.

  He grabbed a flap of red, bulbous skin with one hand and poked his fingers into the wound with the other. The bird shrieked and hopped, unable to get its talons high enough to get him off. It reached down with its beak to bite him, but Dirt pushed the sharp tip away and made it bite itself.

  Dirt dug his teeth into the skin around the gash and tore it wider open with his other hand, then reached into the wound. His arm went in all the way to the elbow before he found his dagger.

  Thank Grace, he found the hilt first and not the blade. He closed his fingers around it, turned the blade outward, and yanked it out, slicing as he went. The ancient dagger cut a wide gash, slicing through the flesh like it was hardly even there.

  The bird collapsed to the ground, trying to crush him beneath its bulk, but Dirt knew that trick as well from playing with Socks. He dove away and was lucky to land on a hidden boulder big enough for both feet.

  The bird struggled to get back up, largely due to its bulk and the unwieldiness of its wings. Dirt tossed the dagger and mentally directed it right into the creature’s black eye, then pushed with all his mental might. He felt the rebound force driving him down with such power that his feet started slipping out from under him, but not before the dagger exploded out the other side of the bird’s head. It fell dead.

  Socks was having a bit more trouble with the other three. They’d taken to attacking him all at once, and although they hadn’t gotten away unscathed, neither had he. They’d managed to get at least one talon past his fur, up near his spine, leaving a spot of blood the size of Dirt’s fist.

  Dirt pulled the dagger back with his mind, then grabbed it out of the air and hopped like a bug over to where Socks was fighting. The pup saw him coming and tossed him high into the air, above even the birds circling for another dive.

  Taking careful aim, Dirt threw the dagger downward toward the back of one’s head. He steered with his mind, but Socks saw it as well and yanked it downward so hard it went right through its target and vanished in the snow.

  Dirt pointed at a different bird and Socks pushed him that direction. Dirt landed on its back, knocking it a bit lower in its flight. He started punching and biting and ripping out feathers, doing all the damage he could with his bare hands and teeth. It wasn’t much, but it probably hurt, because the bird twisted in the air to fling him off.

  Socks saw his chance and grabbed its beak with his mind and twisted its head the other direction. Dirt heard more than one loud pop and they fell to the ground together. It didn’t move after that.

  Fed up, Socks called an enormous swarm of sparks around the remaining one, focusing so intently that he held his breath and stopped moving. It sensed the danger it was in, but it was too late. With a flare of heat that stung on Dirt’s face, Socks enflamed the sparks into a booming inferno. It only burned for a few seconds, but that was enough. The last bird fell, and the pup finished it off by snapping its neck.

  The two of them paused for a moment, both panting hard. Before he forgot, Dirt retrieved his dagger, finding it by the hole it made in the snow. The tip was buried three inches into a stone, but fortunately it slid out with no trouble.

  -We have plenty to eat now,- said Socks. -We can leave the bodies in the snow until we want to eat them. Cold preserves meat. Father taught me that.-

  The big pup would be smiling if that was a thing wolves did. It had been a great hunt. A long one, over a great distance, with a fight at the end against a new enemy.

  Dirt hopped over and hugged Socks around the snout and patted his forehead. They nuzzled their heads together, despite the hilarious size difference.

  They noticed at the same time—that girl was still alive. The faint light of her mind was still glowing, although she was unconscious.

  -Don’t get too excited. She probably won’t last long.-

  “I know. Come on,” said Dirt. Socks picked him up and leaped nimbly across the boulders, and a short distance farther they saw down into the circular-shaped depression between the flat hills.

  It contained almost no snow, strewn instead with endless heaps of logs and branches and great quantities of packing material, like grass and old feathers. The whole thing was a nest, a single big one the giant birds all shared. It was far too large for all of them together, but Dirt supposed his villa was bigger than he needed, so who was he to judge?

  They only found her by scent, since she’d been placed in a little gap that was invisible until they were about to step on it.

  She was dressed far more warmly than Dirt, bundled in thick furs almost from head to toe. They hid her shape so well that if Socks couldn’t smell that she was a girl, Dirt might not have known. She was taller than him, and thicker. Probably at least èlia’s age.

  The poor girl was injured, too; that much was obvious. The bird had carried her by digging in its talons so she couldn’t wriggle away. Deep puncture wounds on her legs and torso oozed blood, which dripped down through the tangle of branches beneath her and disappeared. Her breathing was raspy and wet and quick.

  -Take her clothes off so I can lick her wounds. Hurry, while she’s still alive,- said Socks. He lifted her gently from the nest and held her in the air, carefully turning her while Dirt struggled to figure out what to untie to get her coat off. Finally, he gave up and just started cutting the cords with his knife. Soon enough the front opened, revealing a much thinner undershirt.

  Socks pushed that out of the way with his tongue and licked her wounds. There was a bad one on her stomach, deep enough to show purple guts inside, and the punctures near her shoulders were no less deep. After Socks was satisfied her skin would hold together, they closed her coat to keep her warm.

  Her pants were easier to remove, since belts were straightforward. Both legs had been stabbed right through, in the meaty part of the thigh. When Socks rotated her, blood poured from them rather than dripped or spurted. It was a wonder she hadn’t bled out already.

  After her wounds were closed and starting to heal, Socks lay down and kept her floating in the air. The ground here didn’t look particularly comfortable. Dirt sat down atop the pup’s front paws and surrounded her with embers to warm her back up. Then they waited.

  And waited.

  She lived. The girl opened her dry eyes and didn’t seem to see Socks at all. She saw Dirt, though, and whispered, “Stammi luntanu da mè. Sò maleditu.”

  Dirt grinned. Another language. He should have seen that coming. In mild exasperation, he told Socks, “Uh oh. We’re doing this again?”