Zoromon slept in dreamless oblivion until someone nudged him. He opened his eyes. It was the ghostly silver fox again. It had been a while, but he recognized the Wanderer immediately. Zoromon sat up. At least, some part of him did. He looked down and saw himself curled up beside the wolf, still asleep.

“Don’t worry. You’re projecting. Like I am,” said the fox. “That’s also why we can talk to each other with words. I’m helping you do it. Is there anything you’d like to do?”

Zoromon looked down at his hands. They looked oddly misshapen, but not in a way he could describe. Then he took in his surroundings. No one was fully awake except for Azvalath and Perst, who were talking indistinctly. Something about feeling cold. A light snow was falling. The horses were on their feet, but dozing. Zoromon’s gaze lingered on them. “May I talk to the horses? With words?”

The Wanderer nodded. Zoromon got up, left his body resting, and went over to the horses. Tashnuk didn’t stir. Sakhal emerged quietly. Ayhoshki practically sprang from her sleeping body. Zoromon put one hand on each horse and wandered deeper into the woods with them.

“You know what’s incredible?” he asked them, barely able to contain his excitement. “We can talk with words right now.”

Even knowing that, the sound of Ayhoshki’s voice startled him. “Good to hear you, Zoromon. You’re terribly boring when you’re quiet.”

Sakhal snorted. “Damn right. Does my hood make me look silly?”

“Well, does it matter?” Zoromon asked. “It keeps your face and ears nice and warm. And I always think you’re beautiful.”

Sakhal nudged Zoromon with his head. “Thanks.”

“Sakhal, why don’t you tell Zoromon why you’ve been feeling scared?” Ayhoshki suggested. “Or should I tell him?”

Sakhal stopped walking. He looked worried in a way that was almost human. “Zoromon, I think we brought a blood-eye with us. Only, we can’t see it. It’s hiding, waiting to attack. And I think it wants me. I’m a…Razaghal, right?”

“Yes, you are,” said Zoromon. “That’s how you got so big so fast. And don’t worry. We’ll keep you safe. You’ll live a good long time. Maybe even develop a special ability like me and Azvalath.”

“We’ll keep you safe,” Ayhoshki agreed. “Trust me, I don’t want anything happening to you either. And speaking of abilities, why don’t you show Zoromon what you showed me?”

Sakhal looked at Zoromon, then lowered his head and shut his eyes. His breaths were deep and slow, as if he were meditating. Then, seemingly out of thin air, the ghost of a wolf appeared beside him.

The wolf glanced around frightfully, then spoke in a quivering voice. “Akyvak…my poor pup…is he safe with you?”

Zoromon’s jaw dropped. He could not believe what he was seeing. Somehow, Sakhal had broken the barrier between Forward and Reverse, life and death. He had so many questions, but before he could ask any, he felt a jab in his side.

The impact of returning to his body knocked the wind out of him. Zoromon’s eyes snapped open. He sat up and looked down at his hands. They looked normal again. Tevorac had woken him. She pulled him to his feet, then woke the wolf. Zoromon looked over at their mounts. The horses and cow were wide awake and anxious.

Azvalath came over and gave Zoromon a pat on the shoulder. “You awake now?”

“I guess,” said Zoromon. “You wouldn’t believe what sort of dream I had.”

Azvalath looked troubled for a moment, then wiped the look off his face with a smile. “Was it a sweet one?”

Zoromon raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with you?”

Tevorac circled a finger around her head and pointed at Azvalath. Out of his mind. Zoromon nodded and tried not to laugh.

Azvalath looked down at his feet. “I’d like my overboot back once Tev’s boot is dry.”

“I don’t think it is,” said Zoromon. “We’ll have to leave it out in the sun or something.”

Perst snapped at them. “Quit love-doving each other and saddle your horses. Remember we’re running?”

“Love-doving?” Zoromon snorted. “We were talking about boots!”

Azvalath grinned a deranged sort of grin. “Kiss my damn boot.” Then he leaned in and kissed Zoromon right on the lips. Zoromon noticed then that Azvalath’s skin was burning hot with fever. Still, he couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“You two are disgusting,” said Perst.

Tevorac nudged Zoromon to get his attention, then signed something. Azvalath was quick to interpret. “She wants you to show her how to saddle a horse.”

“Maybe later, all right? We have to get going soon,” said Zoromon.

Tevorac’s face fell.

“It’s all right, Tev,” said Zoromon. “I can show you later. And you can have a real riding lesson. It’ll be fun, don’t you think?”

A small smile formed on her lips. When Zoromon went to saddle Sakhal and Ayhoshki, Tevorac followed him. She hovered so close that he could hear her breathing.

“Give me a little space, please,” he said. “And don’t stand right behind Ayhoshki. She’ll kick you if you startle her.”

He saddled both horses without much trouble, then helped Tevorac mount. He tied Ayhoshki’s lead to the pommel of his saddle. Perst whistled some irritating tune as he mounted his cow. When they were all mounted and ready, Azvalath rode to the front of the group. The wolf plodded beside him on a slip lead. They rode out of the woods and into an open field blanketed in snow. Zoromon focused in on Sakhal and asked him to be careful in case there was ice.

Sakhal agreed. Then he shared an image of Azvalath and a strong feeling of concern.

Zoromon looked up. “Azvalath, Sakhal wants to know what’s wrong with you.”

“Your horse wants to know, but you don’t?” Azvalath laughed a little. “I’ve been feeling sick since I woke up. A bit of mind fog, too. And everything hurts.”

“Doesn’t sound pleasant,” said Zoromon. “You’re sure we shouldn’t let you rest?”

Before Azvalath could answer, a shadow passed over them. It was too large for a bird and too fast for a cloud. Perst’s cow panicked for a second. The horses threw their heads up and tried to bolt. “Whoa, whoa!” Azvalath shouted. A piercing shriek rang out across the sky.

Zoromon looked up. A huge creature unlike any he had ever seen flew in wide circles over their heads. It looked like a bird or bat, but long horns adorned its head. Its tail was long and frilled at the tip. “What’s that?” Zoromon asked.

Azvalath looked up. “That’s a lightningfisher. They don’t typically hurt people.”

“Not typically,” said Perst.

Zoromon glanced up again. The creature looked like it was getting closer. No, it definitely was. Its wings folded in slightly before it plummeted like a diving falcon. “Tev, hold on tight!” he called, then dropped the reins to let Sakhal and Ayhoshki bolt. Azvalath and Perst did the same. Tevorac let loose an animal-sounding scream as she fell from her saddle.

When Azvalath saw what had happened, he leaped off his horse and ran to help her. The lightningfisher swooped over them with a sound like thunder. Then came the lightning. It ripped through the air over their heads in blazing white bolts. They all stopped. Sakhal reared up and nearly threw Zoromon. As he fought to keep his balance, Zoromon saw the lightningfisher dive for them again. Perst screamed something incoherent, then grabbed his bow and fumbled to nock an arrow.

“Do you really think that’s going to work?” Zoromon shouted.

“I have to try!” Perst snapped. “Do you want us all to die?” As the lightningfisher approached, Perst fired. The creature broke its course and flew away, screeching.

Azvalath and Tevorac ran back to them. “What just happened?” Azvalath asked.

“I think I got it,” said Perst. “I think we’re in the clear.”

“We are most definitely not in the clear,” said Azvalath. “Because look who else followed us out here.”

In the pause that followed, Zoromon heard hoofbeats. He looked over his shoulder. When he saw riders approaching, with Machli at their head, his heart sank. Somehow, the clan had found them.

As the riders surrounded them, they could only stand there like children caught misbehaving. Perst smiled uneasily at Machli, who glared at him like a snake spitting venom. Tevorac waved. Zoromon looked down and sighed. Azvalath started laughing.

Machli looked ready to flay someone. “Just where do you little varmints think you’re going?”

Zoromon looked at Azvalath, who pulled himself together enough to respond. “I’m keeping my family safe. Can’t you see? We’ll die if we try to fight the Ferash Therall. Forget about it, Machli. Forget about us.”

Machli shook her head. “Surely, the wolf has found the way to the Ferash Therall by now. Let him off that rope and let him lead the way.”

“None of us want this, Machli,” Zoromon insisted. “We can’t…”

The wolf interrupted him with a loud bark. Zoromon looked at him and received a gruesome image.

“What does the wolf say, Zoromon?” Machli asked.

“He says that if we don’t go to fight the Ferash Therall by our own will, then he’ll kill and reanimate us, so we won’t have a choice,” Zoromon told her.

Tevorac signed something to Azvalath, who interpreted in a defeated voice. “Take the battle to them. For us and for everyone.”

Zoromon bit his lip. There was still something he wanted to know. “Machli? How did you find us?”

“Your scent,” said Machli. “This dog tracked you here.”

A shaggy, wolfish-looking gray-and-white dog nosed its way to the front of the group. It sat down, licked itself aggressively, then looked up at them. Its tail wagged in excitement, and its lips were pulled back in a bizarre grin. Zoromon had never seen a dog grin like that. Or any creature, for that matter. Not even a human.