Tessa guided Larry at a steady pace through the ravine, the morning sun filtering weakly through the gaps above. The shadows hadn’t lifted fully, and the chill in the air clung to the stone like damp moss. Still, it was easier to breathe than it had been the night before. Easier to move forward without that creeping sense of something watching from the dark.

  She glanced back only once—out of habit more than hesitation—but the curve of the ravine wall had already swallowed the soldiers from view. They were probably packing up their camp now, tightening gear, rechecking weapons. Preparing to go in.

  She wished them the best. Especially Rellen. He had been nice enough.

  They’d held the line cleanly last night. Professional. No panic, even when those Velk-hounds showed up. Thanks to them, nothing had gotten too close. Tessa had managed a few hours of sleep once the tension broke, and this morning she’d left early, rested enough to move with clear eyes. That was worth a lot.

  Larry’s claws clicked softly on stone as he trotted, round body bouncing just slightly with each step. He seemed relaxed, his head swiveling from side to side in lazy interest. That helped settle her nerves.

  Still, a small part of her felt disappointed. Not about leaving—she had no interest in delving. But she had hoped, maybe, to patch up some of the soldiers' gear before they went in. Even simple adjustments—tightening a scabbard clasp, adjusting armor straps, checking for cracks in metalwork. Anything she crafted or repaired would’ve counted once they started fighting down there. It would’ve been a nice bonus.

  But she hadn’t offered, and none of them had asked. Probably didn’t think her tools were worth the trouble. And maybe they weren’t—not for heavy gear like theirs. She didn’t exactly have materials suited for battle-forged steel.

  She sighed and leaned forward slightly, giving Larry a light pat. “Still,” she muttered, “would’ve been nice.”

  He chirped in reply. Or maybe yawned. Hard to tell with him sometimes.

  The ravine narrowed as they moved forward, the old wagon tracks still faintly visible along the path. She followed them without thinking. It hadn’t been long since she first arrived this way, following those same tracks to find the soldiers at the broken cart.

  The ravine began to widen. She adjusted her grip on the reins, as the narrow trail leveled out and opened into a shallow basin. Stone buildings jutted from the landscape ahead. She pulled Larry to a slower pace, eyes sweeping the quiet perimeter.

  No movement. Just wind curling through beams and banners. She tried not to picture it—people left behind, separated, or walking into the dark. Halric hadn’t said they were dead. Just missing. She hoped he was right. She didn’t want to think about the other possibility. Larry gave a soft, questioning chirp beneath her.

  His head was lifted now, posture shifting from relaxed to alert. His fluffy chest puffed slightly as he slowed, claws clicking carefully over stone. Not frightened. Not panicked. Just… paying attention.

  “What is it?” she murmured.

  He didn’t answer, obviously, but he stopped walking altogether and tilted his head toward a gap between two broken walls. The feather-like tufts around his face flared, a sign she recognized by now—he’d picked up something. Sound or scent.

  Tessa followed his gaze but saw nothing beyond paving stones, a leaning arch, and a courtyard mostly overtaken by weeds. Her skin prickled anyway. She tightened her grip on the reins and leaned forward slightly.

  “Let’s keep moving,” she murmured, keeping her voice calm.

  Larry took another step forward, his stance shifting subtly beneath her. His feathers along his spine lifted slightly. He made a low, clicking noise deep in his throat—focused, cautious, ready to react.

  A shadow flickered at the edge of her vision. Something moved and silently across the stones, slipping between patches of weeds. Another dark shape appeared on the opposite side of the courtyard, vanishing almost as quickly as it emerged.

  Velk-hounds.

  Tessa’s pulse quickened. The creatures were moving in slow circles around them.

  “Run,” she whispered urgently, heels nudging him forward. “Larry, go!”

  Larry surged forward, talons scraping desperately for traction against the stone as he exploded into a frantic sprint. Tessa hunched low over him, gripping tight as the wind rushed past her face. Her heart thundered, the sudden burst of motion making her stomach lurch.

  A shadow flashed at the edge of her vision. Before she could even turn her head, a Velk-hound launched itself from a low wall. It slammed into Larry’s flank with a brutal, jarring force.

  The world flipped sideways. Tessa cried out as she was thrown from Larry’s back, tumbling through the air. She slammed into the ground, gravel tearing at her skin, shoulder burning like fire. The breath burst painfully from her lungs as she skidded to a halt.

  Larry shrieked overhead, twisting frantically in mid-air, stubby wings flaring out in desperation. His heavy talons crashed down beside her head, splitting stone inches from her face, the impact sending tremors through her bones as he barely avoided crushing her.

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  Tessa coughed, gasping as she struggled to fill her lungs again, pain spiking through her ribs and shoulder.

  One of the hounds landed nearby, paws scraping against stone as it swiftly turned toward them again. Larry shrieked a fierce warning, fluff and feathers flared, positioning himself protectively between Tessa and the advancing predators. Around them, more shadows moved quickly, closing off every angle. The stalking was over. The attack had begun.

  Tessa pushed herself upright, gravel scraping her palms as she scrambled to her feet. Pain shot through her shoulder, sharp enough to make her wince, but she shoved it aside. She had to get back on Larry. They needed to get out—now.

  She started toward him, taking a breath to call his name, but Larry had other plans. He turned abruptly, fluff puffing out wildly as he squared himself against the nearest Velk-hound. The creature stalked closer, teeth bared, low and confident, clearly expecting easy prey.

  Larry struck first. With a sudden burst of speed, he leaped forward, wings raised to make himself bigger, talons kicking out furiously in rapid strikes. The hound reeled back, snarling in surprise as sharp talons raked its snout and chest, leaving bloody scratches across its skin.

  “Larry!” Tessa shouted, frustration rising as she realized he wouldn’t listen. He was too caught up in the fight now, stubborn and protective, convinced he was holding the line.

  She hesitated only a heartbeat longer, then turned away, eyes scanning for cover. Staying in the open was pointless. Spotting a stone house nearby, she broke into a run toward it, boots skidding on the loose stones.

  She ducked quickly into the shadows of the broken doorway, she pressed her back against the cold stone wall, breathing shallow, ears straining for any sign the fight was moving away. Larry’s shrieks echoed outside, angry and fierce, interwoven with the snarls of the Velk-hounds.

  But beneath that chaos, she heard another sound—the faint scrape of claws on gravel, quieter, closer than the others. Her pulse quickened, and she held her breath, turning her head slightly toward the broken doorway.

  The wooden door hung loosely on its hinges, shattered at the bottom and barely attached. Her gaze flicked to the handle, the hinges, the splintered wood. Useless. Broken.

  But that didn’t mean she couldn’t fix it. Even if only briefly. She raised a trembling hand, concentrating on the fractured doorframe. Mana flowed, weak but steady, through her fingertips into the splintered wood and metal.

  “Emergency Pin,” she whispered sharply.

  A faint shimmer of golden threads flickered through the broken hinges and wood, knitting them back together—only temporarily, she knew. She felt the brief stab of fatigue from spending precious mana she didn’t have to spare. But it was enough. The hound slammed into the newly repaired door, rattling it violently, but it held. Barely.

  Tessa turned, adrenaline surging as she spotted a staircase. She sprinted for it, taking the steps two at a time despite the pain shooting through her ribs and shoulder. Her boots thundered up the stairs as the door rattled again below, wood splintering audibly under the hound’s furious assault.

  At the top, she stumbled into what looked like someone’s private living space—furniture, scattered belongings. There wasn’t time to look more closely. Behind her, the temporary repair snapped apart with a sharp crack. Below, claws scraped against wood as the Velk-hound pushed its way into the house.

  Her thoughts raced. She needed an exit—fast. Her gaze swept the room, settling immediately on a window at the far side. She hurried toward it, wrenching the stiff latch open and shoving the pane outward with a loud creak.

  Fresh air rushed into the stale room, and she glanced down, stomach clenching slightly at the drop below. Doable, she told herself firmly, already climbing halfway out onto the narrow ledge. She braced herself against the frame with one hand and reached down, pulling out her hand crossbow.

  From the stairway behind her came the unmistakable sound of the hound’s paws climbing upward, quick and relentless.

  Tessa steadied her breathing, raised the crossbow, and aimed carefully at the top of the stairs. The instant the Velk-hound’s head appeared, she squeezed the trigger. The bolt snapped forward, striking it in the shoulder. The hound yelped and stumbled, scrabbling backward down the steps.

  She didn’t wait to see how much damage she’d done. Tossing the crossbow back into her satchel, she pulled herself out fully onto the ledge, reaching overhead for a grip on the rough shingles. Muscles burning, heart pounding in her ears, she dragged herself upward until she was crouched low on the rooftop, hidden behind the half-collapsed chimney.

  Below, the hound snarled furiously, already regaining its footing.

  Pressing herself against the weathered chimney she struggled to slow her breathing. Her heart still raced, but for the moment she felt secure. Velk-hounds weren’t built for climbing—legs too rigid, paws ill-suited for gripping vertical surfaces. She hoped that would give her enough time to plan the next move.

  She shifted carefully to the edge of the roof, keeping herself low, and peered cautiously toward the courtyard. Her eyes scanned desperately, seeking Larry among the shifting shapes and the dust cloud swirling from the fight.

  It took her only a second to spot him.

  He was still standing his ground, feathers flared aggressively, small wings spread wide in defiance as he faced down the remaining hounds. Five of them circled him, movements wary now, each waiting for another to make the first move. Larry lunged suddenly at one that edged too close, launching himself with a burst of explosive power. His talons lashed out in quick, ruthless strikes, raking deep into the creature. The hound yelped sharply and recoiled, stumbling backwards, but Larry pressed forward mercilessly.

  He followed through with crushing force, stomping down on the hound with his full weight, pinning it beneath him. Bones cracked audibly, and the creature shrieked in pain, thrashing desperately to escape. Another hound lunged forward to rescue its companion, teeth bared, only to meet a brutal kick from Larry’s powerful leg. The blow caught it squarely in the jaw, sending it tumbling across the stones, stunned and bleeding heavily.

  Tessa watched from the rooftop, briefly stunned by Larry’s sheer aggression. She knew he could hold his own, had even seen him snap defensively at threats back home, but never anything like this. It left her both astonished and deeply grateful—right now, Larry’s ferocity was their best hope.

  Yet the hounds kept coming, determined despite their injuries. One of them darted forward and managed to land a vicious bite on Larry’s flank, leaving small white feathers drifting to the ground. Larry screeched furiously, whipping around and slamming his talons down onto its shoulder. His full weight drove the hound hard into the stone, pinning it until it whimpered in submission, squirming helplessly beneath him.

  Blood stained the cobblestones heavily now, both from Larry and the hounds. Tessa couldn’t tell how badly he was hurt, only that he refused to give ground. He flared his feathers wider, appearing larger than before, shrieking defiantly at the remaining hounds, daring them to test him again.

  “Come on, Larry,” she whispered anxiously. “Just hold on.”

  Below her, the hound in the house snarled and scratched furiously at the window frame, reminding her that the danger hadn’t passed yet.

  She needed to figure something out—fast.