This may be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, thought Fey.

 

Every single one of her instincts were screaming at her to run. Animals survived in the Wild by running from predators. If something was bigger than you, it could—and would—murder you in a heartbeat. And yet here she was, standing out in the open in as vulnerable a position as she could manage, waiting for an animal that was more god than beast to notice her so it could try to kill her.

 

But, she thought, looking to her left and right, these two make it worth it.

 

Zave and Clueless stood on either side of her. Zave was clutching the spear she had made for him. Clueless was baring her teeth and growling at the ash colored clouds. Pride swelled in Fey’s chest. They may not have been much to look at. They may not have been the biggest pack, or the strongest pack.

 

But they were her pack.

 

“I probably don’t need to say this,” she told them, having to shout to be heard over the roaring winds, “but we’re only going to get one chance at this. Zave, are you sure you can’t use your powers?”

 

He gritted his teeth and shook his head. “No. I’m sorry.”

 

Fey sighed. “Then we’ll have to do this the old fashioned way. Clueless!”

 

“Yes!” Her head snapped to face Fey.

 

“You and I are the muscle. Somehow, we need to get that damn bird out of the sky. As long as it’s up there, it’s untouchable. Zave?”

 

“Tell me what to do,” he said without hesitation.

 

“You’ve got the spear. Once we get it on the ground, you’ll finish it off. Got it?”

 

Zave looked at his spear in disbelief. “With this? We’re trying to kill it, not give it acupuncture!”

 

Fey grabbed him by the arm, her expression hard. “Do you trust me?”

 

“Of course I do, but—”

 

“Do you trust your alpha, Zave?”

 

He paused, then nodded. “Yes.”

 

“Then trust me when I say that spear can kill it as long as you hit it in the heart. You can do it. I trust you too.”

 

The sound of flapping wings reached their ears, and all three of them turned their eyes to the sky. This part of the mountainside had no cover. Defensively, they were sitting ducks. But with Ember and Norrin racing toward its nest to rescue Glenn, Fey wanted all of the thunderbird’s attention on her. Hopefully by parking themselves right out in the open, they would make too tempting a target for it to ignore.

 

“There!” Clueless suddenly yelled, pointing to their left.

 

Fey spun to look just as a titanic shadow formed in the clouds. The thunderbird burst out of the storm, trailing wisps of black cloud behind it, and swooped down at them. She fought the urge to panic when she saw the gargantuan bird coming straight for her.

 

“Dodge!” she yelled.

 

Without hesitation, Zave and Clueless obeyed. They both leaped to the left, while Fey jumped to the right. Fey’s dodge carried her further up the mountainside, but her goat legs let her clear the distance easily. Going farther down the slope let Zave and Clueless put more space between them and the thunderbird’s point of contact. The solid stone ground was still wet, though, which made the footing dangerous. Zave managed to stay on his feet when he landed, but Clueless’ paws slid out from under her.

 

No! Fey thought, watching in horror. If she falls, she’ll be a sitting—

 

Zave’s free hand shot out and caught her, steadying the dog-walker. Fey sighed in relief. Asking Zave to join the pack really had been an amazing idea. He knew Clueless better than anyone. Together, those two were a team. Add Fey into the mix, and they were a family.

 

The thunderbird crashed into the ground half a second later. Rubble exploded from the mountainside, sending shards of gravel raining down on them. Its head swung left, looking at Fey. Her heart skipped a beat when she met its one eyed gaze. Then it turned to its right, toward Zave and Clueless, and it spread its wings and screeched in outrage.

 

It really does know Zave, Fey thought in disbelief. But how? Could it really sense him like Gil said? But if that’s true, then that would mean Zave was—

 

No! She refused to let herself finish that thought. Zave was not evil! She may have only known him for a week, but it felt like they’d been friends her entire life. He was one of the kindest people she’d ever met, and the most loyal friend she’d ever had. If he was evil, then she—and everyone else on earth—must have been evil too!

 

It was obvious what the thunderbird was planning to do next. Zave backed away, holding his spear up as if it could defend him against the thunderbird’s incredible strength. It reared up, taking aim at him with its black, wickedly sharp beak.

 

“Hey, you big chicken!” Fey yelled. “Goat meat tastes better than human!”

 

Surprised, it swung its massive head around to look at her again. Still unsure of what had gotten into her, Fey sprinted toward it. It screamed a warning at her, its shrill voice like a pair of daggers to her ears. She wasn’t its target, it was trying to say. Stay out of this and it wouldn’t hurt her.

 

She ignored it.

 

Bending her knees, Fey jumped! The wind tore at her fur as she flew through the air, landing on its back. The thunderbird shrieked again, flapping its wings in an effort to throw her off. It nearly succeeded, its feathers being even slicker than the rocks below, but Fey’s goat instincts came through for her again and she managed to keep her balance. Furious, the thunderbird craned its neck around and drove its beak forward, intending to peck her free like she was nothing more than a tick. Fey was already moving, though. Leaping forward, she landed on her backside and slid down the incline of its spine, reaching out and yanking one of its gigantic feathers free for good measure.

 

The thunderbird roared in anger, finally turning its back on Zave to focus on Fey. She had no idea how old this creature was, but it was probably ancient, and she doubted it had ever been insulted like that before. Hitting the ground, Fey cast the huge black feather aside and took off running again.

 

The thunderbird spread its wings and took to the air. Fey swore under her breath. For just a moment, she’d dared to hope that the stupid bird was too tired to fly anymore. It certainly looked like it was running on fumes. Even as it climbed back into the sky, it wobbled uncertainly in the air. But once it was up, it was clear that it was going to stay there.

 

Come on, Clueless, she thought as the rain pelted her from above. Get it down again. I know you can think of something!

 

A tingle ran across Fey’s body, and her fur began to stand on end. Cursing, she clenched her eyes shut and threw herself blindly to the side. A split second later, the insides of her eyelids turned red and a BOOM that shook her down to her very core blasted through the air.

 

She hit the ground, and her hooves nearly slid out from under her. Jumping with her eyes closed like that was dangerous on this kind of terrain. Even her natural goat balance couldn’t protect her if she didn’t know what she was about to land on. But when the thunderbird was throwing lightning around, a few seconds of blindness was preferable to more than a minute of it.

 

But it didn’t stop. Even as the wind blew away the smell of sulfur, Fey’s fur began to stand up again. She chanced a look upwards, and saw the thunderbird’s shadowy mass circling overhead. She had wanted its attention, and now she had it. She closed her eyes and jumped again.

 

Too late.

 

As soon as she jumped, Fey knew that she had reacted too late. A horrible burning sensation spread through her entire body even as she flew through the air. Her limbs locked into place. The smell of smoke assaulted her nose. For a terrifying moment, she thought she could actually see the mountainside through her eyelids.

 

She hit the ground, paralyzed and unable to catch herself. The moment she touched the ground, her body went limp. Down she went, tumbling across the craggy slope like a ragdoll. Her mind was still working, but she couldn’t make her arms and legs obey. She realized that she must have successfully avoided the main surge of electricity, but still been close enough for the static charge around the bolt to hit her. Luckily, the shock had numbed her, so she didn’t have to feel as her skin was bruised and slashed by the sharp, rocky ground.

 

Finally, she came to a stop nearly thirty feet from where she’d started. Feeling rushed back into her limbs, and she gasped in agony as all the damage she’d suffered washed over her at once. But before she could get up, a shadow flashed past above her, and the ground shook as the thunderbird landed just a few feet away.

 

Come on, come on, she thought, desperately trying to roll onto her front so that she could pick herself up. She was able to move again, but her limbs were weak, and all she could do was lie on her back and gasp for breath like a suffocating fish as the thunderbird loomed over her.

 

Then a rock bounced off its wing.

 

“NOT HURT FEY!” Clueless yelled.

 

The thunderbird ignored her, its full attention on Fey now. Again, Fey tried to get up, but she collapsed into the growing puddle around her. A talon came down, pinning Fey to the ground. She cried out in pain. How could this thing fly when it weighed so much? She felt like the wicked witch of the west being crushed by Dorothy’s house. Another rock hit it, but it took no more notice of it than the first.

 

“You scared?” Clueless was yelling. “Chase me!”

 

The thunderbird reared back, ready to gore Fey with its beak. Fey wanted to look away, but forced herself to watch as death came for—

 

The third rock struck it right next to its wounded eye.

 

The thunderbird let out a squawk of pain and recoiled, freeing Fey and retreating a few steps. Fey stared at it in shock. In its desperation to get away, one of its feet even slipped on the wet stone, nearly tripping it. Being hit by that rock, no bigger than Fey’s fist, must have been agonizing for it.

 

No, not the rock, she realized. The arrow wound!

 

And suddenly, she knew how to ground the thunderbird for good.

 

Gathering her strength, Fey put her hands beneath her and forced herself upwards. As soon as she was on her hooves, her strength began to come back. There was still a strange buzz, like she’d somehow laid on her entire body wrong and it was about to fall asleep, but she pushed through it. Like she’d said, she only had one chance at this.

 

She rushed at the thunderbird and jumped, landing on its face.

 

It panicked, spreading its wings and taking to the sky—bringing Fey with it. She wrapped her fists around its feathers, which were as slick as oil. The wind and the momentum nearly wrenched her grip free, but she just barely managed to hold on. Up and up they went. The mountainside grew smaller by the second, and she lost sight of Zave and Clueless almost immediately. Then they were in the storm clouds. Unformed lightning zinged her skin, and the rain was so cold that it froze in her fur.

 

If I fall from here, she thought in terror, there’s no way in hell I’ll survive!

 

And then, like a flashbang grenade to her eyes, there was light. The storm continued to rage below her, dark clouds churning and flashing like the top of a witch’s cauldron. Up above her was the sun. They had flown so high that they were above the storm, and clear skies stretched for as far as her eye could see.

 

The thunderbird leveled its wings, hovering over the storm rather than going any higher. It swung its head from side to side, desperately trying to throw her free. Fey could feel her grip weakening by the second. If she didn’t act now, she was going to fall. She took a deep breath and leaned back, summoning every ounce of strength she had.

 

Then, with a scream, she rammed her horns against the thunderbird’s skull just beneath its eye socket.

 

A screech like nothing she had ever heard rang through the sky, and the thunderbird went limp. Its wings stopped flapping. Like a storm cloud that had lost the strength to remain in the air, it began to fall. Again, Fey was brought with it. The winds tore at her from every angle, the rain battered her, but her grip held strong as the once mighty bird returned to the earth, until…

 

Movement ceased.

 

Fey felt like she was floating. Her ears were ringing. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that the thunderbird had struck the ground, and she had as well. How was she still alive? She had no idea. Maybe she wasn’t. Maybe she was dead, and this dark, weightless place was the afterlife where she would spend the rest of—

 

PAIN.

 

She was jolted back to lucidity as every nerve in her body was set on fire. The thunderbird had indeed landed, and was lying on its back. Fey, in turn, was lying on top of its chest, and she was feeling every single bit of pain that could be expected from someone who had just fallen a thousand feet out the sky.

 

And the thunderbird still wasn’t dead. It didn’t move, but its chest was still rising and falling.

 

A shadow appeared to Fey’s side, and she turned her head—pain!—to see Zave climb up onto the thunderbird with her. He raised his spear in both hands, and drove it down into its defenseless chest. The thunderbird let out a final gurgling squawk of pain, and released its last breath there on the mountainside.

 

“Fey? Fey!” Zave was yelling, but his voice sounded a hundred miles away. “Are you okay?”

 

She felt his hands on her. It hurt, but somehow she didn’t care. It was just nice to be touched by the man she…

 

Fey paused as the realization struck her even harder than the crash landing.

 

Zave slid his hands beneath her and, rather clumsily, carried her back down and set her on the ground. There, Clueless ran to kneel over her.

 

“Fey alive?” she pleaded, her eyes wide with fear. “Fey say something!”

 

Fey managed to smile at them. “You guys did good. I’m so proud of you!”

 

“Don’t talk like that,” Zave admonished her. “You’re not going to die here!”

 

“What? Am I not allowed to be proud of my pack if I’m not dying?”

 

Zave blinked. “But you—”

 

“Just get me something to eat and I’ll be fine,” she said with a smirk.

 

Apparently taking that as an order, Clueless leaped to her feet and sprinted down the mountain. That left Fey and Zave alone together.

 

“Zave,” she said slowly.

 

“Yes?” he asked, still staring down at her like he thought she was going to die at any second. She supposed she couldn’t blame him, seeing what she had just been through.

 

Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.

 

He deserves to know.

 

“I…” She paused to cough. “Zave, I—”

 

The thunderbird’s eye snapped open. Fey gasped in horror, and Zave spun around to see. His skin turned pale when he realized it was looking right at him.

 

“That’s impossible!” he yelled. “I stabbed it through the heart!”

 

It let out a rasp of fury, no longer having the strength to shriek. Then, before Zave could react, it lashed out and caught him in its beak. He screamed in horror as, in direct defiance to everything sane, it rolled over, got back to its feet, and spread its wings.

 

“Zave!” Fey screamed, but there was nothing she could do. Her brain commanded her body to move, but it refused to obey.

 

It took to the air. Just barely. Unable to gain any altitude, it skimmed the treetops as it left the mountain behind. For a second, Fey hoped it would crash. But it didn’t, and Zave was borne away.