Ryan jumped backwards, staring down at the street. He thought lightning had struck right in front of him.

Everyone, everything stopped, except for the seagulls overhead and the distant rumble of stormclouds. The crumbling skyscrapers and abandoned cars weren’t moving, but neither were the anthros out on the street. They were as frozen as he was, and he could do nothing as booted footsteps ran up, until a thick hand grabbed him by the collar and shook him.

“What are you doing here?” The man’s voice was muffled. Ryan looked up and saw not ears and whiskers, but a face-concealing gasmask with a shiny black visor. He was a human, like Ryan — like he was for now — and he was wearing some kind of gray and white urban camo gear. It looked like he’d come off of a military base.

Ryan was instantly scared. Military gear meant he was a Tea Partier, or with a militia or something. They had to be trying to claim the city. But if he was with a militia, then why did his nametag look … Chinese, or Korean? And what was with his strange accent?

Ryan coughed and tried to collect his wits, clutching his smartphone tight and hoping the man wouldn’t confiscate it. “I’m hunting for an animal … ”

The man shook his head. “What is your name?” he demanded.

He just blurted out his first name. “Ryan.”

“Rye-ann, this place is for Earth workers.” He shoved him backwards and let him go. “Go back!”

“But I-”

“Go back!”

Ryan stood there in a daze, watching him walk back across the street to where a woman in similar gear was standing. They were talking, but he couldn’t make out what they said; they were carrying some kind of machines over their shoulders, but he couldn’t tell if they were rifles or vaccum cleaners.

“‘Earth’ workers?” he thought, crouching behind a car. His reflection looked back at him, a lanky human teenager’s with messed-up hair and a worn-out shirt and backpack. He put it out of his mind as soon as he saw it, and dug in his pocket for his empty soulcrystal.

He got it out and looked through it and the car windows, and winced as an anthro bird walked past them, his feathered tail glowing with bright blue anima. But in the humans across the street, there was nothing … nothing but a tiny pinprick of light, a soulcrystal in the man’s pocket. What were they? he wondered. Robots?

Whatever they were, they were in his way. He tapped the screen on his smartphone, still glancing through the car’s windows at them, and checked the map of this area. Someone had posted a fox sighting in this neighborhood just last night, and he’d gotten up early so he could go look for it. But now the city was crowded all of a sudden — he had to have seen at least two dozen people so far — and these gun-toting, uniformed jerks thought they owned the place.

He couldn’t fight them, not that he wanted to. But a fox lived right here near the shelter downtown, if all these people hadn’t scared it off. How was he going to find it if …

Something splashed, behind him. He turned to look, and saw a red fox’s face looking up at him over the puddle it was drinking from.

His heart started to pound.

Slowly, Ryan reached for his backpack, sideyeing his reflection to guide his shaking hand. The zipper seemed loud — too loud — and the fox cocked its head at him as he reached in and got out his imprinter. It was heavy and awkward, machined steel with sharp edges, and he cut himself trying to fix the soulcrystal inside.

The fox had taken a few steps towards him. “Please don’t have rabies,” he thought, as he stood and aimed the imprinter with both hands. Through the lens on its back he could see the fox anima, thick and swirling and crimson like blood, and as he held down the lever on the side it started to flow towards his gem. Not enough to kill the poor thing … just enough to make him what he longed to live as. Or at least, to bring him as close as it was possible to get.

Ryan’s heart raced. He couldn’t think straight, and could barely hold the imprinter still. Seconds stretched on to infinity, but he only needed a few more of them before-

“What are you doing!?” It was the man in the uniform, behind him.

The fox bolted, and the stream of anima wisped away.

Before Ryan could think, he ran after it.

I was on my knees in the tunnel, going through my pack. My breath froze and crystallized in front of me, dusting its contents with ice shards. The heat lamp I’d set on the rock next to it was throwing shadows across my hands, as I tore through packets of rations looking for the sealed gel pouch.

My toes felt like ice, and my bare fingers were stiff and shook as I shivered. I alternated between holding them next to the heat lamp, and rummaging through my pack as fast as I could. Sweat dripped off of them and froze.

C’mon, where is it … Protein bars. Space blankets. Chemical heating pads. Cryo- there it was!

My fingers slipped, and it fell to the bottom. Argh! I cursed myself inwardly, as one hand dug through and held everything up, while my other hand reached down and grabbed it. Then I moved back up to the heat lamp really fast, shivering and trying to get the pouch open.

It had a brand name, but I didn’t care. It was cryoberry concentrate, and I needed it to kick my metabolism into overdrive before I froze down here. Shivering violently, I managed to tear open the pouch, then lifted my cloth mask just enough to squeeze the gel into my mouth.

I gagged. It was painfully sweet, and so tart that it burned. How many hundred times stronger than sweet cane was it? How much acid fermented in each berry? I’d tried to drink a cup of the juice once, and even after watering it down I couldn’t finish it. This was like an entire pitcher of the stuff in one mouthful.

I nearly spat it out, on reflex, but managed to force my mouth closed and tilted my head back, feeling the gel tear down my throat like bad heartburn as I swallowed. My tongue felt like I’d just drank scalding water, and I moistened my mouth, swallowing fast to clean it out. Then I cringed, gritting my teeth, fighting back the urge to vomit.

A voice in the back of my head told me If you hadn’t run off on your own, this wouldn’t have happened! I tried to remind myself what it was like back at camp; the loud, echoey snoring, the heat and sweat and itchy bedding, and the feeling of being suffocated. It’d been the second night in a row like that, and I’d already stayed up for most of it. I’d had to.

Was freezing and dying down here better than that? Probably not. I hadn’t meant to go this far, though. And I would’ve told someone if I’d known they would listen … if I’d known they cared at all. Or wouldn’t have just told me to tough it out, like they’d been doing.

I’d left markers, at any rate; chalk marks on the wall that had followed me all the way out here. Now I just had to follow them back …

… assuming I lived through this.

Cold was my next thought, followed by pain. I winced again, my throat tightening, fighting back tears behind my goggles. Then I pulled the mask back down over my face and put my gloves back on, still shivering. My feet were so cold they’d numbed, and my hands were still so cold they hurt, but the searing pain in my throat was starting to turn into warmth, and I could feel it beginning to spread.

Better get these out for when I need them, I thought. I pulled two handfuls of protein bars from my pack, and stashed them all in my pockets before zipping the pack up again and shouldering it. I was still cold, and still weary from hiking so far. But after all that I was wide awake.

I picked up the heat lamp and started walking back down the tunnel, stone and ice glistening in the lamp’s glow. Powdered ice crunched under my feet. I clicked the lamp shut, into flashlight mode, then looked behind me, away from its beam. It was surreally pitch-black just a few feet away.

When I turned around again, the first thing I saw was a bright orange chalk mark shining in the light, with others past it leading back along the tunnel. I was on the right track; the pedometer on my belt said that I still had a way to go, but I didn’t care … I could do this. I’d make myself do this. I had to.

The cold began to subside. I could feel my feet again, pins and needles inside like warm water had just been poured over them. It hurt, but I had to keep walking. The pain in my throat was harder to ignore, though, and so was the tightness in my stomach. It was no longer just from the acid; it was also the hunger pangs starting. I was going to need to eat soon, to fuel the furnace my body had turned into.

I was unwrapping the first protein bar when something stopped me in my tracks. The shadows didn’t look right, along the side of the wall. I went closer to investigate, and found a narrow tunnel leading back towards the main passage, which opened up and curved off in another direction some distance in. It looked icy and slippery, but I thought I could manage it even with my pack. Should I, though?

I walked over and shone my flashlight down it, trying to see where it went. It looked like it opened up after only ten metres or so, and-

What was that?

I looked at the ground, my protein bar all but forgotten. Something was there, partway lodged in the ice. Something that shone bright blue in the light.

I got down on my knees to inspect it more closely. It looked like a stone disc, its outer surface carved into segments. There was a rune engraved into each segment, and taking up most of one side was a bright blue jewel.

If you’re reading this where I think you are, then you know what something so out-of-place means. You know what’s about to happen. And if I’d been reading this there too, then I would’ve known in a heartbeat. But I’m not sure what I would have done.

But I didn’t know, so here’s what I was thinking:

Oh wow. Oh wow. How big is that jewel? Oh wow, I don’t believe it. How many grams worth is this? Who cares. I’m rich now! I’m so rich!

I started grinning like an idiot, the protein bar even further from my mind as my stomach twisted and growled. Should I tell them? I thought. It’d make the perfect comeuppance! My eyes widened. But what if they take it from me? What if they just take it and don’t even ask, just like they used to do … just like some of them used to, I corrected myself. No. This has to stay secret.

I nearly doubled over, as the hunger pangs overtook me. Then I knelt down right next to the protein bar, peeled the wrapper from it, and swallowed the entire thing at once, barely tasting it.

Another one followed, more slowly this time. It was chewy, and tasted of nut butters and vegetable oils. I stashed the wrappers in my other pocket, still chewing and savoring the second bar. Then I looked down at the disc, and wondered how on Tsoneria I was going to get it out of the ice.

I should have asked “how long”. It took me about half an hour.

I didn’t have a crowbar, or an ice pick. I had a few matches, but not enough to make any headway. The ice froze back, slick, and I had to be careful not to slip and stab myself as I hacked at it with my knife. Twice, I had to stop and grab another protein bar. I could feel myself growing uncomfortably warm.

Finally I grabbed hold of the disc and pulled, and the remaining ice broke away. Then I tried to stand up with it, only to be stopped short and nearly fell over. What the heck?

I looked closely. The disc had thin leather strips attaching it to the ice, tied around a loop at what must be the top. It wasn’t just a disc, it was an amulet; some kind of ornament. And the leather was buried deep in the ice.

I didn’t have time for that. So I cut the straps off, then held the disc up to the light, grinning excitedly. It was gorgeous, and I’m not just saying that because it looked valuable. The gem was as big around as my thumb, and the light played off it like a museum piece … I could imagine it displayed on a pillow, behind glass. Meanwhile, the stone around it was smooth, with no sharp edges except where the runes were carved. It looked finely made, and not manufactured.

I turned the stone disc around. On the back were intricate slots and grooves. I furrowed my brow, examining it. This side looked less like a piece of jewelry, and more like a piece of machinery. What was it for?

No clue, I thought. Oh well. I pocketed it, and started to go back when I stopped in my tracks. That side tunnel was beckoning me, and I don’t mean in a magical, mysterious sense. I mean something more like an OCD way. It was going to drive me nuts if I didn’t go down it.

You’d think I would’ve right away, just to see if it had anything to do with the gem and the disc. Or if there was any more where they’d come from. You have to remember, I had just spent the last couple of hours walking through the cold, then digging on my hands and knees ‘till my neck was sore. Plus I was hot and sweaty and uncomfortable inside my coat, now that the extract had taken effect. I really just wanted to go to bed, and tried to tell myself I could take everyone there tomorrow or something. But my OCD won out, and I sighed and walked down the tunnel.

Did I say “walked”? More like “squeezed” down the tunnel. It was iced over, and I could see stone past the ice but that didn’t help me gain traction. About halfway through I started to have trouble going any farther, and I panicked because I was alone and I didn’t want to get stuck here. But it turned out I’d just gotten my coat caught on something, and I got the rest of the way through, and looked out and gasped.

I was standing in a worked stone shaft going a hundred or more metres up, all the way to the mountain’s surface. The air in here was warmer than outside — the ice seemed to stop at the entrance — and the distant top shone like a gem in my flashlight, whole facets lighting up at once. I realized I was inside a hideaway; from above, that whole ceiling would look just like snow. I might be the first human inside this place, ever.

This is SO. COOL, I thought. Then I realized I was standing in darkness, and slowly shone the flashlight around.

Four-legged shapes prowled the darkness.

I jumped, banging my head on the wall and dropping the flashlight, going down on my knees to pick it up quickly. I fumbled with it for a moment before looking up again. My heart raced as I saw the shapes once more, and the shadows they threw on the walls. But then I realized they were statues … not living creatures, just statues.

I put one hand over my heart, trying to control my breathing. I was about to burn up, both from the heat, and the adrenaline racing through my body caused by the moment of fear. I yanked off my coat and mask, gasping in a few breaths through my mouth before removing my boots and my snowsuit. After that I looked around again, hearing my breathing echo like I was inside a cathedral.

The statues lined the wall of the wide, circular room, all of them big cats, all of them in different poses; walking, resting, cleaning themselves. I recognized a tiger, a leopard, and a lynx along one side before my eyes scanned over the rest of the room.

Beneath the stone rim that the statues were on was a large circle of dark earth, with glass lines embedded in it, radiating out from the centre. They looked interesting, almost runic, and the light played off of them … and something else in the room. Gems, set in the eyes of the statue at the far end. It looked like the leopard, but different … the carved spots were larger, the tail was thicker, and the shape of its face reminded me of a picture I’d seen once.  A snow leopard, maybe?

It was looking down at me.

The blue jewels in its eyes seemed to wink, as I shone the flashlight across them. I stepped towards it in my wool socks, beginning to tremble as I got closer. The light from my flashlight glinted off of the lines in the ground as I did so.

I started to feel very small, as my eyes darted between the carved floor and the cat statue watching me. I didn’t feel like a brave explorer, decked out in the best modern gear. I felt like an interloper. I could feel the echoes of the big cats who’d once lived on the mountain above judging me as though seeing a human creature for the first time. And I felt scared and contrite, and really sorry for disturbing them.

But I didn’t feel unwelcome. I didn’t feel like I’d done anything to anger them, and I planned to keep it that way. I stopped about halfway across the room, shining my flashlight discreetly up at the statues, casting big shadows across the wall. Then I took a step towards the statue at the far end again, but my foot caught on something and I tripped and fell.

I screamed! I just about had a heart attack, scrambling backwards on hands and knees and shining my flashlight all around, looking for the thing that’d just grabbed me. But nothing was moving; the statues were all still where they’d been. There was just an unusual spot on the ground where I’d tripped. A place where my light shone differently.

I crawled closer and examined it. It was a circular hole in the floor, right where the glass lines were radiating out from, a few centimetres deep and with grooves carved inside it. And it was about the same size as the disc.

No one ever thinks they’re in one of these stories. Few people realize the significance of the things that they see all around them, but even I wasn’t dense enough to miss the connection. And the second I realized it, my OCD told me to “Put the disc in the hole.”

My heart raced again. I tried to argue with myself. “What if that triggers the self-destruct? Or brings the roof down, or something?” But then I imagined a robber, his face hooded and eyes dark, grabbing things up all around the room, and running out into the tunnels. And in my mind’s eye, I saw the disc fall right where I’d found it.

It wasn’t a vision. It was just starting to seem like the most plausible explanation. And besides, the disc was obviously meant to be there. How could anyone fault me for putting it back? They’d have to be Fey, or something, to do that.

My last retort was that I wanted to keep the disc, so I could sell it. Living on disability didn’t leave me enough silver for anything, after I’d bought food, clothes and clean water. I had to rely on my friends for everything, even to pay for this trip. I wanted some independence … I wanted to at least be able to repay them. I looked up at the statues meekly, clutching the disc in both hands, as though trying to see if they judged me for this.

“You can take it back out once you’ve tested it”, my brain said. “Just try it once so you can see what happens.”

The statues were silent.

I cringed, squeezing the disc tight in my hands. For a long moment, I hesitated, then slowly knelt down to the ground, placed the disc in the hole, and ran like heck, nearly falling over in the process.

Nothing happened.

I turned back around once I bumped into one of the statues, breathing fast and looking back down at the disc. What hadn’t I done correctly? After a second it clicked, and my brain said “You’ve got to turn it in place. That’s what the grooves are for.” And I facepalmed, smacking my icy glove to my forehead, before shaking the ice from my hair. The statues said nothing as I walked back towards the disc.

Kneeling down next to it, I gave it a quarter-turn before something clicked. A glow shot out through the lines all around me, so fast that my breath caught, and so bright that my flashlight was drowned out. A bass hum vibrated the floor.

I knelt there, frozen in place, too scared to do anything else.

Sweat coated my sides and I watched as though dreaming, as more glowing lines crept up from the floor towards the center statue, illuminating its spots and markings.  Then there was a rumbling, growing steadily louder as the stone crumbled and fell away, revealing a real, living snow leopard underneath. I watched with wide eyes as it stretched out on the pedestal, extending its claws and swinging its tail as the rumbling faded, leaving only the bass hum beneath me, and the pounding of my heart.

The snow leopard peered down for a moment, its head cocked to one side as if curious, and I looked on in terror, the voice in my head whispering that I was going to die. Then it sprang.

I was out as soon as my head hit the floor.

I woke up to a soft,‭ ‬red glow all around me,‭ ‬and the sound of air rushing past my ears.‭ ‬The glow looked like flames,‭ ‬and the wind was blowing them past but they weren’t touching me.‭ ‬It looked like I was inside a bubble‭ ‬…

800‎ ‏feet

…‎ ‏and it‭ ‬felt like I was standing inside of a hurricane.‭ ‬Except that my feet weren’t on the ground.‭ ‬I was still drowsy,‭ ‬so it felt surreal.‭ ‬Where was I‭? ‬Why couldn’t I remember how I’d gotten here‭?

600‎ ‏feet

What’d happened to my‭ ‬arms‭?‬ I looked down at them,‭ ‬dimly lit by the fire in front of me.‭ ‬They were bare and covered in fur.‭ ‬That didn’t seem right at all.

400‎ ‏feet

If my arms were covered in fur,‭ ‬I thought,‭ ‬then why weren’t they burning‭? ‬Why wasn’t‭ ‬I burning‭? ‬Where were the flames even coming from‭?

200‎ ‏feet

And what was that‭ ‬thing‭ ‬coming at me‭? ‬It looked like an enormous black wall,‭ ‬its surface rippling like‭ ‬…‭ ‬water‭ ‬…

20‎ ‏feet

OH CR-

Ugh.

My whole body felt heavy,‭ ‬like I’d just been dragged out of a‭ ‬swimming pool.‭ ‬I was sprawled out on top of something hard and damp,‭ ‬unable to get up,‭ ‬barely able to think.‭ ‬Water crawled past my feet up to my chest,‭ ‬and back again.‭ ‬It was warm.

Okay,‭ ‬I thought,‭ ‬so I washed up on shore somewhere.‭ ‬There were about a million things that could’ve gone wrong with this.‭ ‬I could be on a deserted island someplace‭; ‬I could have some huge gash or internal injury,‭ ‬that I wouldn’t even know about until I tried to move.‭ ‬Then I wouldn’t just be tired and limp,‭ ‬I’d be tired and limp and bleeding to death.

The thought made me scared enough to try moving to check,‭ ‬but I managed to lift my face about an inch from the sand before flopping back down and wincing.‭ ‬Wet sand shifted and ground beneath me,‭ ‬and there was something‭ ‬on top of my face,‭ ‬like a washcloth covering my eyes.‭ ‬I could hear waves and seabirds,‭ ‬but I couldn’t see anything even when I opened my eyes,‭ ‬and I‭ ‬smelled something salty and briny.

I lay there just breathing for a long moment.‭ ‬Then‭ ‬I made myself flop my arm up, from down at my side to over my shoulder,‭ ‬all in one motion.‭ ‬I could feel my hand hit the hard sand,‭ ‬but the pain barely registered.‭ ‬Slowly,‭ ‬I reached up with my fingers without moving my arm,‭ ‬and peeled wet,‭ ‬sickly orange seaweed off of my face.

I tried to toss it aside with a flick of my limp hand‭ ‬but just ended up dragging it farther over me.‭ ‬At least it wasn’t covering my eyes,‭ ‬though,‭ ‬and the sun seemed to be behind me.‭ ‬I could see down the beach‭; ‬there were tree-lined cliffs not far away,‭ ‬and what looked like a lighthouse past them.

You’d think I would’ve been happy to see a sign that I wasn’t alone here.‭ ‬But‭ the lighthouse ‬wasn’t what caught my eye.‭ ‬Instead,‭ ‬I was staring at my arm.‭ ‬It was covered in black fur,‭ ‬just like when I was falling.‭ ‬And it was matted,‭ ‬salty,‭ ‬and wet,‭ ‬but it was still fur.

There was something in front of my vision‭; ‬a muzzle,‭ ‬with a tiny black nose.‭ ‬I groaned and closed my eyes again.‭ ‬I wondered if I should feel hurt or betrayed‭ ‬…‭ ‬or giddy.‭ ‬But all I could feel was shock,‭ ‬and my heart beating fast against the sand.

I wasn’t stupid‭; ‬I knew what had happened to me.‭ ‬But for the life of me,‭ ‬I couldn’t remember how my transformation had happened.‭ ‬I couldn’t even remember if this kind of thing was unheard of,‭ ‬or if there were other people like this.‭ ‬I couldn’t remember my name.‭ ‬But it wasn’t like total amnesia‭; ‬it was like trying to recall how to say‭ “‬Hello‭” ‬in some language you’d barely heard of.‭ ‬There were hints of it there‭; ‬I could taste them.‭ ‬But my brain had somehow misfiled it.‭ ‬I couldn’t‭ ‬clearly remember anything‭ ‬…‭ ‬anything,‭ ‬that is,‭ ‬except falling.

Those had been re-entry flames around me.‭ ‬How the heck had I survived‭ ‬that‭?

Minutes passed.‭ ‬I focused on the soothing water behind me, still lapping at my legs,‭ ‬and I felt my heart rate go down. But the briny,‭ ‬seaweed smell was starting to get to me,‭ ‬and it was hard to breathe while laying on my chest.‭ ‬Worse,‭ ‬my back was getting warm from where the sun was shining on it.

I didn’t want to move.‭ ‬I knew I could make myself,‭ ‬but I didn’t want to.‭ ‬I just wanted the uncomfortable things to go away,‭ ‬so I could go back to sleep.‭ ‬But I knew that that wasn’t going to happen,‭ ‬so I groaned and tried to get up.

My arm lifted for a second,‭ ‬before flopping back down to the sand beside me.

Okay,‭ ‬I thought,‭ ‬let’s try that again.‭ ‬I got my other arm into position,‭ ‬then I tried to push off of the sand to sit up,‭ ‬grunting with the exertion.‭ ‬It worked,‭ ‬and the seaweed slid off down my back.‭ ‬Then I looked down at myself,‭ ‬just to get an idea of what’d happened to me.

Fur covered my whole body‭; ‬which was good,‭ ‬because I wasn’t wearing any clothes besides my gloves and my shoes.‭ ‬It was a glossy,‭ ‬unnatural shade of black,‭ ‬with tufts of white on my flat,‭ ‬male chest.‭ ‬Neon‭ ‬teal‭ ‬accents rimmed my arms and legs.

Those do not look like natural colors,‭ ‬I thought.‭ ‬What am I‭?

I felt something thick and bushy on the back of my head as I turned it to look around at myself.‭ ‬Not hair‭; ‬more substantial than that.‭ ‬I reached behind me to feel what it was,‭ ‬and my hand came back with stiff quills.‭ ‬Was I a porcupine‭? ‬Maybe a hedgehog‭; ‬the quills weren’t that pointy.

Then I looked up.‭ ‬There were people,‭ ‬a ways down the beach.‭ ‬Lots of them.‭ ‬Humans.

For a second,‭ ‬my heart leaped.‭ ‬There were people here‭! ‬I could get help‭! ‬I could remember I’d used to be human,‭ ‬too‭; ‬that had to count for something,‭ ‬right‭? ‬But then I remembered something else‭ ‬…‭ ‬a feeling of suspicion,‭ ‬of distrust.‭ ‬Like a hurt,‭ ‬upset animal would have.‭ ‬I remembered not liking humans.‭ ‬How could I not like them if I’d used to‭ ‬be one‭? ‬Was it even safe to approach them‭?

It’d better be,‭ ‬I thought.‭ ‬My energy was starting to come back,‭ ‬and I felt more clear-headed now that I was sitting upright.‭ ‬But I still felt tired and thirsty,‭ ‬and my fur was too thick for this weather.‭ ‬I realized that I was panting,‭ ‬even though my tongue was dry‭; ‬I was probably dehydrated.

Slowly,‭ ‬I made myself stand up,‭ ‬then started out down the beach‭; ‬limping at first,‭ ‬as pins and needles left my feet,‭ ‬then at a steady pace.‭ ‬I tried to think through the haze,‭ ‬to figure out what I should do when I got up to them‭ ‬…‭ ‬who I should talk to,‭ ‬what I should say.‭ ‬Unwritten rules came back to me:‭ ‬Don’t ask random strangers for help.‭ ‬Don’t talk to them,‭ ‬don’t look at them,‭ ‬don’t bother them with your presence.‭ ‬Especially since you’re not normal.‭ ‬It’s your fault that you’re not normal. You’re being weird just to offend.

Wow.‭ ‬No wonder I didn’t like humans.

Sure enough,‭ ‬no one offered to help me,‭ ‬even as I limped right past them.‭ ‬Instead I got lifted sunglasses and bewildered stares,‭ ‬from people laying on their towels.‭ ‬Parents called their kids to come away from me,‭ ‬and the kids stared,‭ ‬too,‭ ‬once they saw me.

This is ridiculous,‭ ‬I thought,‭ ‬my face turning red beneath my fur.‭ ‬I wanted to just ask one of them if I could have something to drink,‭ ‬or if they’d seen me fall from the sky or wash up on the beach or knew what had happened to me.‭ ‬But what I guessed had to be a lifetime of conditioning prevented me,‭ ‬and made me feel their stares on my back.

I wanted to just grab someone and start asking questions.‭ ‬Somehow,‭ ‬I wasn’t afraid of doing so‭ ‬…‭ ‬they didn’t seem like a threat.‭ ‬I just felt like it wouldn’t be worth it.‭ ‬As long as there were humans around,‭ ‬I thought,‭ ‬there’d be humans in charge that I could talk to.‭ ‬Humans in uniforms,‭ ‬or sitting behind counters.‭ ‬Those were okay to demand things from,‭ ‬I remembered.‭ ‬Even unreasonable things.

There were shacks set up,‭ ‬farther down the beach.‭ ‬Their signs advertised hot dogs,‭ ‬ice cream and sno-cones.‭ ‬And once I got in line,‭ ‬the family in front of me quickly got out.‭ ‬It made my face burn again,‭ ‬but I was okay with that,‭ ‬I thought,‭ ‬as I strode to the head of the line.‭ ‬At least now I could get some ans-

“Justin‎!”

That was my name‭! ‬And I was a human,‭ ‬wearing a t-shirt and jeans.‭ ‬The otter who was calling it was being pulled away towards a cage,‭ ‬his arms and legs bound to his sides,‭ ‬tail limply brushing the black metal beneath.‭ ‬But what was doing it‭? ‬I couldn’t see anything‭!

I ran to him,‭ ‬my footsteps clanking on metal deck plates,‭ ‬and tried to free his arms from whatever was holding him.‭ ‬I felt‭ ‬something around him,‭ ‬like invisible claws wrapped tight around his fuzzy chest and his arms,‭ ‬and I tried to pry them away but they wouldn’t budge.‭ ‬I couldn’t even get a firm grip on them‭; ‬they felt like fast-rushing air,‭ ‬and they were slippery like ice.

I dug in my feet and strained,‭ ‬trying to pull him away,‭ ‬my face turned towards the stars past the consoles.‭ ‬Then I saw him:‭ ‬a bird of prey,‭ ‬with grey and white feathers and a black‭ “‬mask‭” ‬of feathers around his sharp beak.‭ ‬One of his taloned hands was clutching a deep blue jewel on a chain around his neck,‭ ‬and the other was stretched out towards‭ ‬–‭ ‬what was my otter‭ ‬friend’s name again‭? ‬–‭ ‬and gripping the air in its claws.

I could put two and two together.‭ ‬I ran at the falcon,‭ ‬head down,‭ ‬getting ready to tackle him-

WHAM.‭ ‬Something hit my side while I was running at him.‭ ‬I was sent sprawling on the floor,‭ ‬hands and feet twitching,‭ ‬smoke coming out of my charred clothing.

‎“‏Can’t let you do that,‭ ‬human.‭”

Smugness dripped from the silky male voice.‭ ‬I wanted to look,‭ ‬to see who it was,‭ ‬but I was paralyzed‭; ‬my limbs and my head just weren’t working.‭ ‬Besides that,‭ ‬I thought I remembered.‭ ‬It was right there just past-

Cage bars slammed into place,‭ ‬outside my field of vision.‭ ‬All I could see were the windows,‭ ‬and the blue arc of the world beneath us.‭ ‬The falcon relaxed his grip,‭ ‬and turned to look as a black cat stepped into view‭ ‬…‭ ‬the one who had just‭ ‬shot me.

Something was wrong about him.‭ ‬Something was crawling across his sleek fur,‭ ‬something black and oily and alive.‭ ‬It turned into a belt and a holster,‭ ‬as soon as he put his gun by his waist.‭ ‬I remembered that wasn’t the real threat,‭ ‬though.‭ ‬It was something I couldn’t see right now,‭ ‬something-

The room began to glow green,‭ ‬from somewhere past where I could turn my head.‭ “‬Oh hey,‭” ‬the cat said,‭ ‬turning to look.‭ “‬What do you know‭! ‬Brighter than ever,‭ ‬this time.‭ ‬The God of Destruction must like it when we‭ ‬destroy things.‭” ‬He grinned.

The falcon coughed,‭ ‬one fist to his beak.‭ “‬The human is still alive,‭ ‬sir.‭”

It was true‭ ‬…‭ ‬I was struggling to my feet,‭ ‬shaking my head to clear it.‭ ‬Ignoring the ringing in my ears,‭ ‬and the stinging pain in my side.‭ ‬The cat just gave me an amused look.‭ “‬Chaos must favor this one‭!” ‬he remarked,‭ ‬to the falcon.‭ “‬Or else‭ ‬you are more than you appear,‭” ‬he told me.‭ “‬Some kind of Adept‭? ‬A wild Talent‭?”

I looked to see where the glow was coming from.‭ ‬There was a dark,‭ ‬green gem,‭ ‬the size of a grapefruit,‭ ‬set into a console in front of the wall.‭ ‬And the ringing in my ears got louder‭ ‬as I squinted into its bright glow.

‎“‏You could always just shoot him again,‭ ‬sir‭ ‬…‭ ”

“Quiet,‎ ‏Tachyon.‭” ‬The cat waved one hand to hush his pet‭ (‬how did I know that‭?)‬.‭ ‬Then he looked at me.‭ “‬Well‭?” ‬the cat asked.‭ “‬Chaos has given you another chance.‭ ‬What are you going to do with it‭?”

I looked between him and my friend,‭ ‬inside the cage.‭ ‬His eyes were wide and staring at me.‭ ‬Then‭ ‬my eyes fixed on the gem again,‭ ‬now glowing brighter.‭ ‬It seemed familiar somehow‭ ‬…‭ ‬I remembered my friend finding it,‭ ‬showing it to me,‭ ‬wondering what he should do with it.‭ ‬Being kidnapped because of it.‭ ‬But the familiarity was more than that‭; ‬it was more like seeing your favorite old keyboard,‭ ‬or game controller,‭ ‬after digging it up in the attic.‭ ‬Remembering it,‭ ‬and realizing what it was for.

I began to stagger towards it.

‎“‏Ooh‭! ‬Going for the prize,‭ ‬are we‭?”

“Sir‎ ‏…‎ ”

“Hush‎!”

I was still staggering toward it,‭ ‬wishing that I could move faster.‭ ‬Then I stepped over a circle design on the floor,‭ ‬and a glass tube shot out from it all around me,‭ ‬going right up to the ceiling.‭ ‬The cat had his hand on a button,‭ ‬on one of the consoles,‭ ‬and the falcon had clasped his hands behind his back and was looking away.

‎“‏Chaos seemed to like it when you got shot,‭” ‬the cat said,‭ ‬his voice muffled and echoey.‭ “‬Let’s see how he likes this‭!”

My friend screamed,‭ ‬as I got shot out into space.

Everything was quiet for a moment.‭ ‬I floated there inside the tube,‭ ‬my hair and clothes drifting,‭ ‬no longer held down.‭ ‬I could see the huge planet below me,‭ ‬blue and white,‭ ‬and could see the tiny space station we’d left,‭ ‬tethered down to the world by a thread.

Then I saw something glow,‭ ‬on its surface.‭ ‬And a second later everything was fire and noise.

“Can I help you‎?” ‏the otter girl asked,‭ ‬from behind the counter.‭ ‬She was wearing an apron and cap.

I blinked,‭ ‬uncomprehending.‭ ‬Then something caught my eye,‭ ‬from below.‭ ‬A tablet,‭ ‬still turned on,‭ ‬that someone had left on their towel.‭ ‬Its screen was in the shadow of a nearby umbrella,‭ ‬and it was open to a news website,‭ ‬with a familiar picture on the front page.

‎“‏Sir‭?”

I picked up the tablet and looked at the picture,‭ ‬holding it beneath the umbrella.‭ ‬It was a grainy,‭ ‬satellite photo of the space station I had just left,‭ ‬and the explosion that I remembered.‭ ‬The headline read‭ “‬Hostage Meets Tragic End.‭”

“Sir‎ ‏…‎ ”

I caught a glimpse of my name,‭ ‬there in the first sentence.‭ ‬It was still bright out, so it was hard to read‭ ‬…‭ ‬and the shock I was now feeling was making it surreal.‭ ‬But even though I was distracted,‭ ‬my eyes scanned over the article looking for clues.‭ ‬Cultists‭ ‬…‭ ‬Tether Station‭ ‬…‭ ‬God of Destruction‭ ‬…‭ ‬Chaos.

‎“‏Hostage Meets Tragic End.‭”

The shock was beginning to crystallize,‭ ‬as I looked down at my arms holding the tablet.‭ ‬I could remember who I’d been,‭ ‬but it seemed so far away now.‭ ‬What’d happened‭? ‬Why did I look like this‭? ‬How the heck had I survived‭?

Somehow,‭ ‬I wasn’t sure it was important.‭ ‬It felt like I‭ ‬had died up there.‭ ‬Or the person I’d been had died,‭ ‬anyway.‭ ‬All that mattered was saving my friend‭, and beating the daylights out of that stupid cat‬.‭ ‬All that mattered was getting back to that station.

The otter behind the counter had gone back to cleaning it off.‭ ‬I held up the tablet to her, and pointed at the picture on it.‭ “‬Tell me how to get here,‭” ‬I said.‭ ‬My human life seemed like a blur,‭ ‬and I couldn’t remember things like that.

‎“‏Tether Station‭? ‬Um‭ ‬…‭ ” ‬Her eyes flicked out to the horizon,‭ ‬and I looked behind myself out where she was looking.‭ ‬There was an island,‭ ‬out there in the bay.‭ ‬And a thin,‭ ‬black line,‭ ‬stretching up from it into the sky.

‎“‏Thank you,‭” ‬I told her,‭ ‬remembering my manners.‭ ‬I set the tablet back down on the towel,‭ ‬before another phrase came back to me.‭ “‬Do you have free ice water‭?”

For some reason,‭ ‬my instinct was still to try things the human way first.‭ ‬That’s why I spent the next hour or so trudging through grassy sand,‭ ‬heading towards the dock for the ferry that went to the island.

Of course,‭ ‬it was closed.‭ ‬It‭ ‬would be closed,‭ ‬given what was happening up there.

The boat sat there moored in the water,‭ ‬past a shack and the vacant parking lot.‭ “‬It looks kinda low-scale and tourist-y,‭” ‬my human memories told me.‭ “‬The people who can actually afford a ticket to the Station probably get to the island by air.‭”

Well,‭ ‬that wasn’t an option,‭ ‬seeing as how I couldn’t fly.‭ ‬For a moment I thought of commandeering the boat,‭ ‬but my human memories protested that I wouldn’t know how to operate it.‭ ‬So that ruled that out,‭ ‬too.

I stood‭ ‬there at the top of the hill overlooking the parking lot,‭ ‬my arms folded,‭ ‬looking out at the island.‭ ‬The sun was behind clouds now and the wind was starting to pick up,‭ ‬and the breeze fluffed out my quills.‭ ‬It was refreshing,‭ ‬and I closed my eyes and enjoyed it for a few seconds.‭ ‬I was still hungry,‭ ‬but I was more impatient.‭ ‬Somehow,‭ ‬I needed to get out there.

Seagulls called overhead as I‭ ‬hopped the barrier across the road and walked down to the parking lot.‭ ‬Then I sat down on one of those concrete speed bumps‭ ‬at the end of each parking space,‭ ‬took off my shoes and emptied them of sand.‭ ‬As I did so,‭ ‬something clicked,‭ ‬and I knew how I was going to get across.‭ ‬And for a moment it was surprising,‭ ‬but then I realized it shouldn’t be.

Looking back on it,‭ ‬I’m surprised I didn’t have an existential crisis right there.‭ ‬What did this all mean‭? ‬What had I become‭? ‬Was I myself anymore‭? ‬As it turned out,‭ ‬I had been all along,‭ ‬not that I knew that at the time.‭ ‬I just wasn’t concerned with thinking about things like that.‭ ‬All that I was concerned with was getting up to that station and saving my friend.‭ ‬I could worry about the hard questions later.‭ ‬For now,‭ ‬if my instincts helped me get up there,‭ ‬I would act on them.

I put my shoes back on and walked back up to the gatehouse,‭ ‬then turned around and fixed my eyes on the island out in the distance.‭ ‬I leaned over and assumed a runner’s crouch,‭ ‬my mind clear of distractions,‭ ‬my eyes still locked on the island.‭ ‬Then I started counting in my head.

3‎ ‏…

Go.

I took off.

It felt like riding a bicycle downhill.‭ ‬In seconds I’d cleared the parking lot,‭ ‬and was out on a sandbar running past the boat.‭ ‬I was going fast and my feet were pumping like mad,‭ ‬but it felt like they weighed nothing.‭ ‬There was no effort involved.

I pushed myself,‭ ‬as my feet touched wet sand.‭ ‬Wind screamed past my ears and flattened my quills to my forehead,‭ ‬and it began to feel like a physical barrier that I needed to push past.‭ ‬So I did,‭ ‬putting on a sudden burst of energy right as I cleared the shoreline.‭ ‬I shot out over the water like a rocket,‭ ‬a comet-like field of energy flowing around my front half like a bubble and trailing behind me in streaks.‭ ‬The air around me felt calm,‭ ‬and the water felt like it was solid,‭ ‬even though I was barely touching it.

I put on another burst of speed,‭ ‬suddenly afraid of the water,‭ ‬not wanting to slow down and drown.‭ ‬When I got within sight of the island’s shoreline,‭ ‬I could see it was much bigger than it’d looked‭ ‬…‭ ‬there were boats,‭ ‬landed airplanes,‭ ‬a whole slew of buildings.‭ ‬And there were army vehicles parked just past the beach.‭ ‬Would I have to fight my way past them to get up there‭?

Not if they can’t catch me,‭ ‬I thought.

The lines and dots on the beach resolved into fences,‭ ‬vans with antennae on top,‭ ‬and camouflage-colored vehicles.‭ ‬I jumped as soon as my feet touched the sand and then I somersaulted in midair,‭ ‬clearing the barbed-wire fence and landing back in a run without breaking my stride.‭ ‬A person carrying a microphone and talking into a camera had her hair blown back as I ran past,‭ ‬ignoring them and the soldiers in uniform and making my way towards the tether.

Alarm sirens sounded as I ran in a spiral,‭ ‬up the road that led to the tether.‭ ‬A truck was blocking my way,‭ ‬right up next to the gate,‭ ‬so I sidestepped around it and ducked under the road barrier.‭ ‬Then I ran towards the base of the tether:‭ ‬a big,‭ ‬square platform,‭ ‬indented into the ground and made of black metal.‭ ‬It reminded me of subway tracks.‭ ‬Something that traveled the tether was meant to land here,‭ ‬I thought.‭ ‬Something big.‭ ‬And it wasn’t parked here,‭ ‬so that meant it was still up there.‭ ‬Because I took it up there,‭ ‬I thought.

The sirens kept wailing as I stopped at the edge of the platform,‭ ‬looking down at the bowl-like indentation inside it and at the exposed machinery.‭ ‬Then I looked up at the tether itself.‭ ‬It was less than an inch thick,‭ ‬and made of black cable.‭ ‬How was I supposed to get up that‭? ‬Would I even be able to survive if I could‭? ‬That shield I’d created had seemed to trap air around me‭ ‬…‭ ‬would it block out cosmic rays,‭ ‬and scorching temperatures‭?

Somehow,‭ ‬I still wasn’t worried.‭ ‬I was still just acting on instinct.‭ ‬People were shouting at me from behind,‭ ‬and I heard weapons being cocked and machines being moved into position,‭ ‬but none of it bothered me as much as the fact that my friend was still in trouble.

I remembered reading about how the tether tram used magnetic levitation,‭ ‬like trains.‭ ‬Somehow,‭ ‬that was all that my instincts needed.‭ ‬I jumped down into the‭ “‬bowl‭” ‬inside the platform and curled into a ball as I did so,‭ ‬rolling inside it and starting to pick up speed.‭ ‬My fur and my quills stood on end,‭ ‬and the air around my ears crackled,‭ ‬as something inside me reacted with what I was rolling on.

I kept going around in circles,‭ ‬faster and faster,‭ ‬propelled by the reaction.‭ ‬And the crackling became more intense‭ ‬until I broke through just like I had while running,‭ ‬and could feel myself surrounded by the comet trail again.‭ ‬I couldn’t see or hear anything outside of the ball I was rolled in,‭ ‬but just felt the rush of speed and energy,‭ ‬and the circular track I was rolling in.

I leaned myself towards the inside of the track,‭ ‬towards the tether itself.‭ ‬Then gravity shifted,‭ ‬and all of a sudden I was flying upwards,‭ ‬not even touching the tether but somehow guided along it … rolling around it in circles, as I continued to shoot upwards.

I did not‭ ‬dare open my eyes.‭ ‬I didn’t do anything except try to force myself to keep making that field around me,‭ ‬and it didn’t help that I didn’t know how.‭ ‬All I know is that as I kept going the light around me got brighter and brighter,‭ ‬and I could feel burning warmth on one side of me and freezing cold on the other.‭ ‬The only thing that kept me from dying to either was the fact that I was still spinning around so fast.‭ ‬It felt like a carnival ride,‭ ‬and I was pretty sure I was going to throw up afterwards.

I don’t know how long it lasted.‭ ‬I just remember long minutes of silence.

Eventually I thought‭ “‬What am I going to do when I reach the end‭?‬” Then I reached it,‭ ‬as the tether drifted away behind me and I reflexively uncurled.‭ ‬To one side of me was a bright,‭ ‬white and blue wall,‭ ‬three-dimensional wisps of cloud casting shadows on the world beneath.‭ ‬To the other side was the Milky Way,‭ ‬every last star visible.

There was no station in sight.‭ ‬And the shield still around me was dim,‭ ‬and starting to flicker.

Now,‭ ‬you know I survived,‭ ‬or I wouldn’t be telling you this.‭ ‬And frankly,‭ ‬after seeing what’s already happened,‭ ‬I doubt if you’d be surprised anyway.

At the time,‭ ‬though,‭ ‬I was freaked out.‭ ‬My backside was numbing with frostbite, while my face‭ ‬–‭ ‬and the hand I‭ was ‬shielding my eyes with‭ ‬–‭ ‬felt like it was next to the oven,‭ ‬with the door left hanging open.‭ ‬I had only seconds to figure out what to do,‭ ‬but I couldn’t think of anything.‭ ‬I was really scared for my life.

But on another level,‭ ‬I was annoyed.‭ ‬I didn’t feel like I’d just been spaced,‭ ‬I felt like I had been cut off in traffic.‭ ‬Or scratched by an annoying black cat.‭ ‬It was running off with something important to me,‭ ‬and I wanted it back.

I could feel the emerald out there.‭ ‬And as the station crossed between me and the sun,‭ ‬I looked up at its silhouette,‭ ‬and‭ ‬…‭ ‬it’s like I grabbed onto the emerald,‭ ‬somehow,‭ ‬and started pulling myself towards it.

‎“‏Um,‭ ‬sir‭?‬” It was that bird’s voice! Tachyon’s. It sounded tinny and metallic. Was I hearing what was inside the room where the emerald was?

“One step ahead of you,‭” the cat said.

I saw bright flashes on the underside of the station.‭ ‬Then there was fire and noise again,‭ ‬deep rumblings as my shield shook.‭ ‬Sparks filled my vision as I was sent tumbling.

I didn’t care.‭ ‬I made the gem inside the station‭ “‬down‭” ‬and fell towards it again,‭ ‬face-first,‭ ‬my shield glowing like a comet’s trail.‭ ‬Sparks flew off of it,‭ ‬and I could feel myself being deflected by whatever that thing was shooting at me.‭ ‬But as it floated past the sun,‭ ‬and everything‭ “‬beneath‭” ‬me turned into a blaze of light,‭ ‬I just made myself keep falling towards it.‭ ‬Pulled to it by the emerald.

The sun was blocked out by black metal,‭ ‬a solid shape in the light.‭ ‬It got bigger and bigger,‭ ‬until finally-

SLAM

I‭ ‬bounced off of it.‭ ‬Well,‭ ‬not exactly bounced‭ ‬…‭ ‬I smashed through it like a bullet.‭ ‬And I got a brief glimpse of lights and deck plates before I was shot back out the way I’d came,‭ ‬the explosive decompression sucking me out into the vacuum.

‎“‏Okay,‭” ‬I thought,‭ ‬in between being shot out and being pulled back by the emerald.‭ “‬This is a little silly.‭”

Some kind of blast doors were closing across the hole that I’d made.‭ ‬I flattened myself horizontally,‭ ‬and‭ “‬fell‭” ‬inside just as they shut,‭ ‬tumbling sideways across the deck as the station’s gravity pulled me that way.‭ ‬Then there was a sound like a dozen blow-dryers,‭ ‬and my fur and quills were fluffed out by air jets before I heard a robotic male voice:‭ “‬Hull breach in sector‭ ‬208‭ ‬sealed.‭ ‬Sector‭ ‬208‭ ‬repressurized.‭ ‬Intruder in sector‭ ‬208.‭”

I could hear the voices in the room with the emerald talking again,‭ ‬but somehow it seemed‭ ‬noisier inside the station.‭ ‬I couldn’t make them out.‭ “‬Oh well,‭” ‬I thought,‭ ‬as I stood back on my feet and my shield flickered out.‭ “‬I know what direction the emerald is in‭ ‬…‭ ‬and that’s all that I need to know.‭”

“Hull breach in sector‭ ‬114.‭ ‬Hull breach in sector‭ ‬58.‭ ‬Hull breach in sector‭ ‬27.‭”

My spines were like chainsaws.‭ ‬I made myself spin in place somehow,‭ ‬just like I did to get up there,‭ ‬then I shot myself through closed doors and uncurled on the other side.‭ ‬I tried on the walls once or twice,‭ ‬but weird liquids and sparks shot out before I’d even broke through.‭ ‬The doors just folded and clattered in pieces around me.

Everything was black metal and colored lights.‭ ‬Alarm sirens and map displays,‭ ‬in multi-level hallways with windows set into the walls.‭ ‬I couldn’t believe anyone could live someplace like this‭ ‬…‭ ‬even the potted plants were plastic.‭ ‬It was so sterile and fake. Sort of like human social rules.

Another locked door.‭ ‬I smashed through and uncurled to see silver,‭ ‬four-legged robots,‭ ‬stopped in mid-strike,‭ ‬looking at me and shining red lights in my face.‭ ‬A corner of my mind could remember being scared to death by these things‭; ‬sneaking down hallways behind them,‭ ‬shooting at them just to distract them,‭ ‬bullets clanging off of their armor.

Right now,‭ ‬I just wanted them‭ ‬gone.‭ ‬So I charged through them,‭ ‬into an explosion of noise and gunfire and shearing metal,‭ ‬and sparks flying off of my shield.‭ ‬I came out the other side and looked back at the wreckage,‭ ‬just in time to see one robot collapse.

There was a scythe in my hand,‭ ‬shining metal with a jeweled hilt.‭ ‬It weighed nothing.‭ ‬Where had it come from‭? ‬I guessed that it must have appeared somehow,‭ ‬when I’d decided to destroy those robots.‭ ‬I tried to tear into the next door with it,‭ ‬but it got stuck there and I struggled with it.‭ ‬So I let go,‭ ‬and it disappeared.

I stopped there for a moment to catch my breath,‭ ‬and I jumped as something sparked.‭ ‬Deep down inside,‭ ‬I was still frightened and numb with shock,‭ ‬like I’d almost drowned.‭ ‬I still remembered‭ ‬running for my life from those things.‭ ‬And from Shadow,‭ ‬and Tachyon,‭ ‬and‭ ‬…‭ ‬and‭ ‬…

I looked down at myself,‭ ‬at my gloved hands and furred arms.‭ ‬What was I‭ ‬doing here‭? ‬What’d happened to me‭? ‬I’d-

Another loud spark,‭ ‬and an explosion from inside a dead robot’s chest.‭ ‬I jumped,‭ ‬and shielded my face.‭ ‬Then,‭ ‬after a long second of cringing,‭ ‬I smacked myself to snap myself out of it.‭ “‬Argh‭!” ‬I said.‭ “‬What am I thinking‭? ‬I can’t afford to have a crisis right now‭! ‬I need to get upstairs,‭ ‬to that emerald,‭ ‬to my friend‭ ‬…‭ ”

SLAM.‭ “‬Hull breach in sector‭ ‬8.‭”

I didn’t want to accidentally maim my friend‭ (‬what was his name,‭ ‬anyway‭?)‬,‭ ‬so instead of sawing through the door with my spines I took the scythe to it.‭ ‬It took me a second to get it to appear‭; ‬I had to just want to break down the door, without thinking about how.

I lodged my scythe in the door,‭ ‬then tore it out of the wall and sent it flying down the hallway.‭ ‬On the other side was a startled-looking Tachyon,‭ ‬his feathers ruffled and wingtips clutching the gem around his neck‭ ‬…‭ ‬and past him,‭ ‬a cat giving me an angry glare,‭ ‬next to the cage that my friend was in.

‎“‏Tachyon,‭” ‬Shadow said,‭ “‬destroy him.‭”

The falcon looked up at my scythe,‭ ‬then back at Shadow.‭ ‬After that he stepped out of the way.‭ “‬You first,‭” ‬he said.

‎“‏Fine.‭” ‬Shadow grabbed up Chaos‭’ ‬Emerald,‭ ‬from the console it was set into.‭ “‬I’ll just kill you next.‭”

He held out the emerald,‭ ‬clawing it in a vicelike grip.‭ ‬And my fur and my quills stood on end,‭ ‬as there was this rush like air across a cave entrance,‭ ‬and everything in the room except him and the glowing gem faded out and became dark.‭ ‬It was surreal,‭ ‬and I think that if he’d done that when I was human‭ ‬I would’ve grovelled for mercy right there.

I could remember being afraid of Shadow.‭ ‬There was part of me that was still scared of him.‭ ‬But even as ominous as he seemed,‭ ‬I didn’t feel like I was heading for certain death,‭ ‬or even a climactic showdown.‭ ‬It felt more like I’d cornered an unruly cat beneath a stairwell. He’d scratched my friend and run off with something of mine,‭ ‬and I wanted it back.

I launched myself across the void at him, and brought my scythe down hard enough to pierce metal.‭ ‬A shield bubble came up around him out of the gem,‭ ‬like mine but emerald green,‭ ‬and it rippled like water but didn’t break.‭ ‬Streamers of energy danced between it and the gem in Shadow’s claws.

I swung my scythe at his shield again and again,‭ ‬and I could see Shadow strain but his shield wasn’t breaking.‭ ‬Then it disappeared and he leaped at me,‭ ‬his claws slashing bright green arcs through the darkness.‭ ‬The trails of light burned into my retinas and nearly blinded me,‭ ‬as I tried to sidestep and parry using my scythe.

Sparks flew,‭ ‬as his claws clashed with my shield and the handle.‭ ‬Then he tore my scythe’s handle in two and brought his claws across my chest,‭ ‬before pouncing me with his back feet and jumping off that way,‭ ‬rolling and coming up in a crouch.

I touched my chest,‭ ‬where his foot-claws had drawn blood,‭ ‬and it stung. My gloves came up stained red.

I looked up at Shadow,‭ ‬and he hissed and held out the gem at me.‭ ‬And it began to draw energy into it,‭ ‬as if focusing for an attack.

‎“‏To heck with this,‭” ‬I thought,‭ ‬and tossed the pieces of my scythe away.‭ ‬I spun in place the way that I’d done to break down the doors,‭ ‬revving and charging and building my shield around me.‭ ‬Then I let myself fly at him,‭ ‬right as he released the energy he’d been building up.

There was a smashing noise,‭ ‬loud as a thunderclap,‭ ‬as I bounced off of him and across the floor and smacked into the wall.‭ ‬When I came up on one elbow the room was normally lighted,‭ ‬and there was a black scorch mark on the floor where we had collided.‭ ‬I had a headache,‭ ‬but Shadow looked even more out of it than I was.‭ ‬He was on his back moaning,‭ ‬his tail twitching,‭ ‬the gem a foot away from his hand.

Tachyon‭ stood ‬right next to me,‭ ‬watching the gem.‭ ‬He looked down at me nervously,‭ ‬and for a second it looked like he was going to go help Shadow.‭ ‬I grunted and got to my feet before he could move,‭ ‬and went over and picked up the emerald in one gloved hand.‭ ‬I tucked it under my elbow before grabbing Shadow by the scruff of his neck,‭ ‬holding him out in front of me and shaking him.

‎“‏I don’t remember why this blasted gem is so important.‭ ‬But I remember I used to be human.‭” ‬Somehow,‭ ‬I couldn’t look at my friend while I said that.‭ “‬Tell me what’s happened to me‭!”

“ …‎ ‏hwah‭?” ‬It looked like he was cross-eyed.‭ ‬He tried to rub his face with both hands,‭ ‬but his movements were slow and sluggish.

‎“‏Tell me what’s going on‭!‬” I screamed it at him.‭ ‬I hadn’t realized how mad I was,‭ ‬or how scared.

He just giggled,‭ ‬drunkenly,‭ ‬and made a clumsy attempt to reach for the emerald in my other arm.‭ ‬I threw him over the consoles,‭ ‬and he smacked into the floor next to the window.‭ ‬Then I stood there fuming,‭ ‬still unable to face my friend,‭ ‬still unable to so much as remember his name.‭ ‬After a long moment of this I realized I was clutching the gem in both arms and hugging it like a plushie,‭ ‬but I didn’t care.

‎“‏He thinks he’s Chaos,‭” ‬said a quiet voice.‭ ‬I looked over to see Tachyon next to the door,‭ ‬one wingtip pressed to the edge like he was getting ready to leave.

‎“ ‏…‎ ‏and he isn’t‭?” ‬I wasn’t sure where he was going with this.

‎“‏Chaos,‭” ‬Tachyon repeated.‭ “‬The God of Destruction.‭” ‬He said it like this was supposed to clear things up.

I gave him a long,‭ ‬annoyed look.‭ ‬He gulped audibly,‭ ‬and tried to explain,‭ ‬looking away and edging closer to the door.‭ “‬Shadow believes that he’s Chaos reborn.‭ ‬There are legends‭ ‬…‭ ‬and things‭ ‬…‭ ” ‬A sweatdrop had formed on his feathers.‭ “‬He was trying to fulfill them.‭ ‬He thought he’d assume his true form.‭”

“What‎ ‘‏true form‭?’”

Tachyon brought his eyes up from the floor,‭ ‬and gave me a long,‭ ‬meaningful look.‭ ‬And my face turned red beneath my new fur,‭ ‬as‭ ‬I realized what he meant. I had become this Chaos that they were obsessed with. That Shadow had thought he was.

It felt like I’d just been told I was on a hidden-camera show.‭ ‬Everything I’d done up to that point,‭ ‬everything since I’d fallen from the sky,‭ ‬all of it was living out this cat’s dreams.‭ ‬My friend had been used,‭ ‬I had been‭ ‬killed,‭ ‬and the only reason they were taking me seriously now was because I wasn’t‭ ‬me anymore.‭ ‬I was‭ ‬…

But wait.‭ ‬Hadn’t he said‭ ‘‬true form‭’? ‬Then that would explain why everything came so naturally‭ ‬…‭ ‬and why my memories were so hazy.‭ ‬It wasn’t like normal amnesia,‭ ‬it was more like I’d just woken up from a dream.‭ ‬And the dream world was starting to fade,‭ ‬as I remembered the waking world.

In that case,‭ ‬this‭ was what‬ I’d always been,‭ ‬before I’d fallen asleep somehow.‭ ‬And these jerks had some kind of whole stupid belief system where I was an icon to them.‭ ‬Because I couldn’t care less if that cat didn’t get to live out his precious power fantasies,‭ ‬and pretend to be me‭ ‬–‭ ‬or try to become me‭ ‬–‭ ‬and hurt people like my friend.‭ ‬I just wanted to get him out of there,‭ ‬and wait for my head to clear and my memories to return before I decided what to do next.

God of Destruction‭? ‬If I met any more people like that cat,‭ ‬I’d show‭ ‬them a God of Destruction.

I gave the falcon a cold glare,‭ ‬and he cringed,‭ ‬literally hugging the edge of the doorway and trying to shield himself from me.

‎“‏Tell me the quickest way off of this station,‭” ‬I told him.

‎“‏C-‭” ‬He coughed.‭ “‬Chaos‭’ ‬Control‭?”

“Which is‎?”

He cringed even further,‭ ‬as though unable to speak.‭ ‬But his eyes locked on the emerald, and memories of how to use it came back to me.‭ ‬“Okay,‭” ‬I said.‭ “‬Get out of here.‭”

He stumbled around the corner and fled,‭ ‬claws clicking.‭ ‬Then I turned around,‭ ‬and looked down at the cage that my friend the otter was crouched in.‭ “‬Hey,‭” ‬I said.

‎“ ‏…‎ ‏Justin‭?” ‬His eyes were wide.

‎“‏Kinda.‭” ‬I made the scythe appear again,‭ ‬and he jumped back.‭ ‬But I just used it to cut off the padlock,‭ ‬then tossed it away and pulled open the door before helping my friend out.‭ ‬He was a little taller than I was,‭ ‬and his fur was ragged and unwashed.‭ ‬I hugged him anyway,‭ ‬and while I could feel his heart racing it seemed to have settled down a bit by the time that I let go.

‎“‏W-what happened to you‭?” ‬he asked.

‎“‏I don’t know,‭ ‬and I don’t care.‭ ‬Now,‭ ‬hold still.‭ ‬We’re getting out of here.‭”

I held the gem up in one hand,‭ ‬and took his hand in the other.‭ ‬The cat started moaning again,‭ ‬and I turned to glare at him for a second before closing my eyes‭ ‬…

…‎ ‏and vanishing.

A blue light turns on, on its rim. Then its glass front lights up, and on top of its menu of apps an overlay reads “1 NEW MESSAGE” next to an envelope icon. After a moment it blanks, and the blue light pulses softly as rain continues to pour outside.

I did not want to get up that morning.

Yes, I heard that one tiger going around the camp shouting for everyone to get up. That’s what woke me up in the first place. I’ve always been a light sleeper, and he has a good set of lungs besides. I just didn’t want to climb out of my sleeping bag. Because I was still groggy, and because I’d been having the most amazing dream.

I was an anthro in my dream, but I wasn’t an anthro animal. I was an anthro dragon. As in golden scales, leathery wings … that kind of dragon. I was flying over a bay somewhere, right up next to the water’s surface, getting the spray in my face. Dipping my clawtips into the water as I flew past it, feeling my wingtips touch it as they beat. I took a deep breath and breathed fire in front of me, an enormous jet like a flamethrower, and I inhaled the mist that it kicked up and felt it on my scales.

I remember I was flying towards a city across the bay, someplace huge with a lot of lights. Then I was inside the city, and these people were trying to catch me for some reason. But I instinctively used some kind of magic powers, shooting these things like ball lightning at them and leaping so high I could clear traffic lights. I still remember the rush from jumping up so high, and then coming back down and touching the pavement.

They were still on my trail somehow, so I used some other ability to make myself blend in with the crowd, even though I still looked like a dragon to myself. I remember my pursuers pushed past me, looking for me, and I just grinned at them-

“GET UP!”

He was right outside my tent that time. I jumped, entangling myself in my sleeping bag, then flopped back down and groaned. My heart was racing and my hair was frazzled, but my eyes did not want to open.

I fumbled around for my glasses, putting them on and trying to straighten my hair out. Then I stepped outside of my sleeping bag, and into a puddle right next to the door. Moaning, I dug in my pack for a towel while trying to keep my foot still, so as not to get anything else wet. I put the towel down and used my foot to push it around a little, trying to dry my toes off …

That’s when I noticed the light on my phone was on.

A minute later I ran out of there, rushing to finish my morning routine and get breakfast. I didn’t think about the pancakes I was eating, the sun in my eyes, or the inchworm crawling up the bench next to me. And it didn’t even bother me to have to sit next to Ann and Aisha. The two coyotes were gabbing on like they always were, but my eyes were on the phone’s screen, thumb scrolling through text as I ate there on autopilot.

Aisha’s hairbeads jangled as she turned her head to look down at me. “What’re you looking at?” she asked.

I immediately locked my phone, the screen blanking. “Stuff,” I said.

“What kind of stuff?” Ann asked, from around her.

“Just stuff,” I said, even though it wasn’t just anything. I was speaking on auto too, my mind still on the message.

“I bet it’s his SpaceBook page.” Aisha nudged Ann. “He got a new girlfriend online, and now that’s all he can think about.”

They squealed, and started talking about who she might be and what she must be like. I finished the rest of my breakfast quickly, and put my dishes into the bin where that one deer was scrubbing them before walking to a safe distance. I quickly read the message, remembering the time before It had happened.

I remembered the homeschool group my mom used to have me in. She taught me at home, so my only classmates were my brother and sisters. But every few weeks we’d get together with the kids from the other families in our group, and do something like bowling or roller skating.

I know the stereotype of the homeschooled kid is that he doesn’t know how to socialize. But a lot of the kids there were friendly and outgoing. I was the odd one out because of how shy I was and because of my interests. And I remembered the girls that I’d wanted to talk to — the ones who’d occasionally taken pity on me, and asked me to dance or asked what I was working on — and wondered which one had emailed me. She’d remembered what group we’d been in, but she hadn’t mentioned her name. Not that I remembered any of their names; I’m horrible with things like that.

Work began as usual soon after breakfast. The horses and bears and other big anthros chopped wood, lugged things around, and drew plows through the muddy fields. I heard gunshots echo through the woods, as that tiger and his brother brought down their new kills. And I got soaked with sweat and with condensation, dragging coolers and ice around and biking them out to the fields where the anthros were working. A couple times I had to turn back around, because I was so lost in my thoughts I just about rode out of camp.

What would I say to her? I wondered. How would I answer each question? I mean, I knew why I wasn’t an anthro yet — the kinds that were easy to get didn’t appeal to me, and the tougher ones didn’t make sense. All the species I actually liked were too hard for me to get, and I liked being human, besides. I wouldn’t trade it for dragging a plow through the mud like the cattle were, at any rate, and living in close proximity to members of the other local species had taken away much of their appeal. I didn’t know what I wanted … I just knew that I wasn’t ready yet.

My legs were sore from biking through mud, as I walked my bike up the hill for lunchtime. I kicked off some of the crud on the tires and tied my bike to a post before walking to Alvin’s trailer to get my phone back from him, shielding my eyes from the glare on his solar panels. My phone had recharged, and I knew I would need it at lunch.

For lunch I sat next to Melinda, the big cow anthro who runs the camp and sews half of everyone’s clothing. She was talking to her husband while eating, and I kind of pushed around my mac and cheese while thinking about what to say. I kept scrolling through words on the screen, writing and rewriting answers in my head but not ready to put them down yet.

Before I knew it, Melinda was stacking her dishes and getting up. “Zach?” she asked.

I looked up, my face blank and my mind elsewhere.

“Zach, finish and put up your dishes. You can play with your phone later.”

That was Melinda … everyone’s mom. But there was no arguing with her. I put my phone up and kept thinking about what to say while I ate.

The rest of the day’s chores took way too long. I kept checking the time on my watch. Every now and then I would steal away and try to type something out, but someone would always catch me and ask me to help them with something. I’d gotten a reputation last year for tiring easily and taking breaks to play games on my phone, so I got teased about that a lot that afternoon. I just ignored them, lost in my thoughts.

Dinner was yet another outdoor meal, since there were no signs of rainclouds. I ate slowly, tired and worn out, and tried to focus my brain on the message. But it wouldn’t, and I knew that I’d have to just finish and sit down someplace quiet. I put up my dishes and wandered off, knowing that I would miss out on dessert. Knowing I needed some time to myself to think.

I sat down on the big stump that they use for chopping wood. Then I leaned back on it and looked up at the sky. I lay there for a long time, long enough to notice it start to get dark.

Finally, I sat up and wrote.

“Hello!

“And no, I’m still a human … don’t want to be one of the horses or oxen (ugh), don’t like the other local species that much.”

I paused for a moment, thumbs poised above the glass screen, thinking. Remembering my dream from last night.

“If I had the choice I’d go with something like ‘dragon’. Wouldn’t that be awesome? Seriously.

“– Zach”

I tapped “Send,” and looked up at the sky. It was dark, and I could see the first stars now. It occurred to me I was chilly.

People shouted to each other in a friendly way, from the fire way back at the camp. I waited another long moment before pocketing my phone and heading back there, hoping they still had some homemade marshmallows.

That night, Zach has the dream again, the one where he is a dragon. This is the fourth time now that he’s had it. His pursuers still haven’t caught him, and he’s learned even more abilities.

“How would you like to become a dragon?”

Crickets chirped. Owls hooted. Mosquitoes buzzed next to my ears.

I shooed them away, then straightened out my headset and made sure it was attached to my phone correctly before laying back down on the stump. I could see the full moon overhead, but it only disgusted me. The full moon was supposed to be good for transformations, but nothing had happened last night.

I sighed. “This hasn’t been working … ”

“It will,” said Laura, over my headset. Her voice sounded older and more determined than mine.

“This is the third time you’ve tried to walk me through this.”

“Practice makes perfect.”

I didn’t argue. I didn’t want to argue. I didn’t have any energy left. I’d spent all day hauling ice water back and forth, and had been up late two nights in a row already, trying to do this. I finally just groaned and let my body go limp, sprawling out across the wide stump and trying to get comfortable. Another mosquito buzzed at my ear, but I was too drowsy to care.

“Okay,” she said. “Close your eyes, and take five deep breaths.”

I counted them, exhaling right next to the microphone. One … two … three … four … five.

“Let your body go limp, and relax.”

I’d already done so most of the way. Now I withdrew all of my energy from it, controlling nothing except for my breathing.

She spoke, setting the stage … making it seem like I was someplace else, a place where anything could happen. Then describing the changes; skin turning to scales, fingertips becoming claws. Wings sprouting. Face elongating.

It was the same routine as the last couple of nights. The same hypnotic suggestions. But something different happened this time. I actually felt it. Not in the hazy way that you feel things in dreams, either. I mean my skin was crawling, my breath was racing, and I was excited but scared because something was happening to me. I gripped the edge of the stump with my hands and felt claws dig into it, as wings unfolded where I lay and spread to either side of me.

I think she could tell what was happening to me, because her voice seemed more confident than last night. “Now, stand,” she commanded. And I obeyed, slowly, not wanting to break the spell.

Looking back on it, that’s when things started to get murky. I mean, the feelings were all there, of having tight scales and claws and new limbs. But my muzzle was blurry in front of me, and while I could see golden scales on bare arms in the moonlight I couldn’t focus on them.

Laura asked me a question. I don’t remember what it was. I was still exploring these new feelings, my wings folding and tail swishing behind me. Worried that talking, or moving my muzzle, would make everything go away.

She asked me another question, but I still wasn’t listening. There was something I had to do, despite how fragile everything was … something I needed to know.

I got out my phone, the screen blanked to save power during a call. I turned around slowly, until the moon could shine on its glass face. Then I tilted it in my hand until I could see my reflection.

My eyes met with a dark, shapeless mass.

That’s when the world fell apart. It was like my new body shattered; like all my scales were torn off. I writhed on the grass clutching my ears and my arms. Everything, from the soft grass to my clothes, stung and burned where it touched my skin. I cried out in pain.

“What’s wrong?” Laura asked. But her voice seemed a million times louder. I tore off the headset and threw it aside, still attached to my cellphone. Then I started whimpering, still rocking back and forth, in so much pain that I was starting to grow numb.

I should’ve known, I thought. I should’ve known.

They found me the next day. I’d spent the whole night in agony, surging and waning as I tried in vain to ignore it. By sunrise it had mostly gone away, but every time that one tiger shouted I had to clutch my ears, even through it was a long way away.

I was completely useless that day. I tried to curl up in my tent, but I couldn’t get back to sleep. The sunlight was too bright, the inside of my sleeping bag was too warm, and every sound was too piercing. I alternated between covering my eyes and ears until my arm muscles got sore, wishing that I had earplugs, or a real bed, or even a snack. But I couldn’t make myself get up. I had no energy. I felt terrible.

The worst part was I was so tired that the whole world seemed like a dream. I could remember that wonderful dream, could remember the feelings I’d had last night, but I couldn’t make them come back. Why couldn’t I? The world seemed so unfair.

I thought of all of the anthros out there in the camp … bigger, stronger, and seemingly more important than me. I thought of them all, and I wished that I could be a dragon.

That evening I finally caught a few hours of dreamless sleep. I staggered out while everyone was gathered around the firepit, and managed to get leftovers out of the coolers. I wasn’t as hungry as I’d thought I was, but it’d been awhile. I didn’t go anywhere near the fire because it was so bright and the people around it were so loud.

Finally, it occurred to me to check my email and voice mail. I hesitated at first, because of what’d happened last night. But I had one new voice message, so I finally put on my headset, turned the volume almost all the way down, and listened.

“Hi, Zach,” said Laura’s voice. “I don’t know what happened last night, but it sounded like you got hurt. I hope you’re okay.

“I wanted to make sure that you’re one of my kind before telling you about this. That’s why I asked about your dreams, and why I used the ancient rituals to awaken your dragon side. You can put it to sleep again, just like it’s been sleeping your whole life and living in dreams. I won’t blame you if you do. But if you don’t, then please come with me. I need your help.”

There was a pause. I could hear her breathing, and feel sweat dripping down my sides.

“Don’t tell the humans,” she warned. “Or the animals they’ve become. Because if you do, I’ll come back here as a dragon, and I’ll kill you myself.”

There was a click, and the voice mail ended.

I sat there limp, leaning up against the outer wall of the shed, feeling as scared and powerless as I had last night.

Feeling afraid of her. And feeling afraid of myself.

Somewhere in between the camp and the city, a red-haired young woman curses, and throws her smartphone into her pack. “Argh, I’m so stupid!” she shouts. “Why did I tell him that? Why did I say all of it? No one would ever believe me!”

Finally she sits down on her sleeping bag, digs out her smartphone and starts playing a game to distract herself. It’s going to be a long night.

“Melinda?”

“Yes?” She looked up from her knitting. Her husband was apparently getting ready for bed or something; she was one of the only ones left at the fire.

I hesitated for a long moment, not sure how to go about this. But she was still looking down at me, so I tried to swallow my fear. “Um … have you ever heard of anyone becoming a mythical creature anthro?”

“A mythical creature? Like what?”

“Well, like a dragon … ” I sweated harder as I spoke the word. “Or like a phoenix, or gryphon, or something,” I quickly added.

“I’ve seen a gryphon before,” she said, resuming her knitting. “She was a cross of a hawk and a mountain lion. Sort of like how Mark got a coyote-deer soulgem.”

“Well, yeah … but what about dragons?” I hated having to say it again. It felt like I was giving myself away. And looking up at her, taller than me even while sitting down on a log, I felt like I was talking to a dragon … or something equally powerful. I felt so small and afraid.

Melinda just kept clicking her needles around the rug she was making. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one,” she said. “I’ve heard rumors, but they’re from so far away that they could have been monitor lizards.”

What she said next startled me: “Not that I’d rule it out, mind. The world is a different place now.”

My heart skipped a beat at that, and I tried to calm myself down. I was still tired, still in shock … knowing that what Laura had told me was unbelievable, but feeling deep down that it wasn’t. The world didn’t seem quite real at that moment.

It was a while before I could speak again. I coughed to clear my throat, and said “D-do you think … ”

Melinda looked down at me, concerned.

I hurried to finish. “Do you think it’s possible that some people are meant to be a certain kind of animal? Or mythical creature,” I hastily added.

“I wouldn’t know,” she said, still looking down at me. “I’d hope not. It would be sad to get stuck as an anthro you weren’t meant to be.”

I fidgeted.

“Why?” she asked. “Do you feel you’re a dragon inside?”

My face turned red, and I began sweating all over. I looked away from her, trying to think of a response, but I couldn’t come up with one.

“Zach?”

I just stood there, dumb and unable to speak, feeling like she could see right through me and knew what had happened and everything. And knew how I felt inside. I couldn’t deal with it … I just turned and walked away, feeling her eyes on me as I did so.

I tried to make sure no one was following me as I went back out to the stump. No one usually paid much attention to me, but after what had happened I was paranoid, and scared that I’d given myself away. It didn’t help that anthros could be so stealthy that I’d never see one if it were there.

Shaking, I used my phone as a flashlight, shining it all around the clearing where the stump was and trying to check around trees at the edges. I knew that it’d do me no good, since I was so slow and so obvious, but it’s like my brain wouldn’t let me not do it. I spent five or ten minutes checking like that before finally sitting down on the stump, putting on my headset with shaking hands and dialing Laura’s voice number.

“Zach?” she asked, and it startled me.

“Yes,” I whispered, shaking.

“Have you, uh, given any thought to my offer?”

“I felt it … ” I was still whispering.

“Hm?”

“Somehow, it worked. I could feel it, all of it. But then I tried to look at my reflection, and something went wrong … ” I explained as best as I could, leaving out the part where I’d tried to talk to Melinda about it.

“Ah … I’m sorry. The ancient powers can be … unpredictable like that.” She sounded uncomfortable.

“I believe you,” I told her, and swallowed to moisten my mouth. “I believe that you’re a dragon. And it scares me, but I believe that I am too.”

“You do?” Laura sounded like she was caught off-guard by that. “I mean … that’s good, that you do.” She coughed. “So what are you going to do now?”

“Why can’t they tell?” I asked. “When they look at each other through soulgems. When they look at me. Why can’t they tell that I’m not human?”

“Well, you know that the word ‘soulgem’ is a misnomer.” She sounded like she’d expected to have to answer this question. “They don’t see your actual spirit when they look at you through them, and they can’t use them to absorb animals’ spirits, either. All soulgems can detect or absorb is a sort of spiritual residue that’s given off by living bodies.”

“Ah, and since my body is human … ”

“You’re giving off human energy, correct.”

“So I guess that it wouldn’t do you any good to kill me and absorb my energy, then.”

“Huh?” She laughed, nervously. “Oh, no, no … ”

“Okay, then.” I was nervous, too.

“So … ” There was a pause. “I guess you need some time to think about it?”

“No, I’m coming with you.” I rushed to explain. “Those were the most amazing feelings I’ve ever had. It just felt right to be a dragon. I’ve always known that most animals weren’t for me, but I didn’t know what I was until last night. Now I know, and I want it. And if you’re a dragon inside too, then I want to help you as well.”

” … okay, then!” She let out her breath, seeming relieved. “Here’s what we have to do … ”

The next day is another busy one. The spring sowing still needs to be done, and the big, important anthros are moving about, calling out to each other and hauling loads back and forth. They notice when they don’t have ice water, and they think it’s because that scatterbrained kid is playing his video games again. They don’t ask what he was up to when he returns. They just chastise him and drink thirstily.

An hour later she thanks him for his help, and he nods quickly and departs. First at a brisk walk, then at a run. There’s so much he still needs to do to get ready, and he’s already late.

It was a long hike into the city. A couple years ago I wouldn’t have been able to manage it, but after spending those last few months running and biking around camp I was in better shape than I’d ever been. Which was good, because if I hadn’t had that “runner’s high” from walking so fast I would’ve been scared to death, trying to pass through the suburbs. There were fires in the distance and the shadows were long, and I didn’t dare turn on my flashlight.

I knew that I was no match for an anthro. Fortunately, I’d brought a secret weapon. I just hoped I’d have the time to use it if things came to that.

There was no traffic, downtown. There were no insects, or other people around. Cars had been swept to the sides of the street, or crumpled to bits by things that had rolled over them. It was my first time in Chicago since It’d happened, and it felt like I was in an ancient, petrified forest. If there was any life here, it was either hiding or moving fast, trying not to be seen. Sort of like me.

I caught up with Laura around 7 AM, four breaks and three energy bars after setting out. (My sleep schedule was still messed up from staying awake the whole night that one time, so it felt more like late evening.) I saw her downtown from a ways off, and called her on my phone to make sure it was her. When the tiny figure in the parking lot answered her phone, I stepped up the pace.

“What took you so long?” she asked, over my headset. She sounded upset.

“I was kept after dinner,” I said, short of breath as I hurried to meet up with her. “Plus I’m not used to this. Sorry.”

“I stayed up here all night, and I almost fell asleep … ”

I let her rant, and concentrated on maintaining my pace and breathing rate. I would’ve been upset too, to be left out here … I could sense fear under her words. “Why didn’t you call?” she asked.

“You didn’t pick up,” I said. “Did you leave it on silent?”

There was no answer. I hurried the rest of the way up to her, hanging up my phone as I did so.

I would’ve been more nervous about meeting her in person if I hadn’t been so exhausted. As it was, catching up to her was a relief. She was a bit shorter than I was and dressed all in black … not exactly a professional catburglar, but trying her darndest. Her face was lined with stress, and didn’t look much older than mine.

There was one thing that confused me, though. “Did you dye your hair?” I asked.

She blinked at me. “Huh?”

“It’s bright red,” I told her. “I don’t remember any redheads in our group.”

“Oh, um, yes … ” She coughed. “And you’ve grown a lot, haven’t you!”

We both stood there awkwardly, for a moment.

“So … ” she said. “Are you ready to go now?”

I sat down on the curb, wincing, and stretched my legs. “Give me a few minutes to rest … ”

“Okay, then.”

I was still sore when we set out the rest of the way. But she assured me it wouldn’t be dangerous. She hoped.

As they walk, they come to a part of the city that looks more rundown … and torn down. Skyscrapers have toppled over or crumbled in half, crushing smaller buildings beneath. The top of one of them is blocking the street, and the two squeeze around it, careful of the broken glass.

The sun rises over the buildings behind them. And the crystal shines, its rays lighting the streets and the buildings around it in a strange, transcendent glow.

My stomach had tightened in knots, and my legs had just given out. I was slumped down next to the wall, gasping for breath, while Laura did the same on the opposite site of the alley. It was awhile before either of us could say anything.

“I thought … ” I was still trying to catch my breath. “I thought we weren’t going to make it.”

She just nodded, too worn-out to say anything else.

More long minutes passed. I turned my head and saw the street we’d just left shining, walls and windows seeming to sparkle.

On instinct I turned away from it. I wanted to look, but it was more dangerous than staring at the sun. Instead I looked up at Laura, who was starting to get to her feet.

“It’s right down here,” she said. “Come on. Help me move the generator.”

” … the generator?”

It turned out to be an old gas-powered generator, with a blanket and things piled on top of it to disguise it from view. The rags around it smelled like gasoline, and the smell got to my head and made me dizzy.

After what we’d just been through we could only move it a few feet at a time, and it seemed like it took forever to get it to where we were going … even though it was just around the corner, an unmarked door in the side of the alley. The steps leading up to it almost killed my back.

Finally we set the thing down just outside the door, and she fumbled with lockpicks. “You’ve got fuel for this,” I said. “Right?”

“Enough.” She opened the door.

The lights were off, inside. It smelled hollow and cavernous; cold and damp. All I could see for awhile was the floor pattern, as we hauled the generator inside. Then Laura shut the door, and I could see tiny pinpricks of light … and hear running computers, inside.

“Wait … ” I said. “This place has power already? Then why do we need-”

Laura turned on a flashlight, and I squinted and looked where it was pointing. “That’s where they’re keeping them,” she said.

It looked like a blast door … solid metal, heavy and big. There were dents and scrapes all over its surface, especially around the seams and the edges. And there were places where it looked like a blowtorch had been taken to it. Not that it’d done a lot.

There was a computer terminal of some kind, in the wall right next to it. It looked like it’d been cut out and then hastily crammed back in, and its lights and the screen were dead. A panel beneath it was open, and cables and drywall were spilled out beneath.

“This place is running on emergency power,” Laura said. “It’s been this way since It happened.” She started hauling the generator again, and I picked up the other end. “I tried to … hack the terminal,” she grunted, “but it didn’t work.” We set the generator down next to it, and she looked up at me. “I just ended up cutting the power to it.”

“So, wait … ” I was trying to catch my breath, too. “You just needed me to help you haul this thing in here? Or … ”

She didn’t answer.

I watched her work with the cables beneath the terminal. They were a mess, but it looked like she knew what she was doing. Pretty soon she had them spliced around some kind of adapter, and plugged it into the generator.

“Cover your ears,” she said.

I did so, just in time. The generator was loud, especially in that enclosed space. It gave off smoke like car exhaust, and I found myself wondering how long we’d have before we got carbon monoxide poisoning.

I was looking away when she gestured to me. I looked back and she was pointing at the terminal, while looking at me. She tried to say something, but I couldn’t hear it over the noise.

I gave her a confused look. She gave me an irritated look and said something again, still pointing at the terminal.

I pointed at myself and shook my head, helplessly. What’d she want me to do? I thought. Hack into the terminal? Everyone back at camp thought I was good with smartphones, but that was just because they didn’t know how to use them.

Laura rolled her eyes, and stepped over and pulled me by the hand over to the terminal. Then she held my face up to it.

I didn’t struggle, because I figured she knew what she was doing. But I was confused. And my eyes were so close to the screen and the cameras right over it that I couldn’t see anything … except for a scan line tracing down it, along with a 3d picture of my face, as Laura held the flashlight on me.

Finally a green light came on, and she pulled me back. “DR. ASHCROFT — VERIFIED,” the screen said. And it showed my picture, in stereoscopic 3d, next to … another stereoscopic picture of me, this time wearing a white lab coat.

Huh?

I stared at Laura, but she wasn’t looking at me. Instead, she was looking up at the door.

It was opening.

I held my breath. What was inside? Vials of DNA samples? Unhatched eggs? An entire, underground kingdom of living-

I saw Laura recoil first. Then the stench hit me, too. It smelled like rotten eggs and rancid milk, and it was almost overpowering. I found myself leaning against the generator to steady myself, but the way it was vibrating was not helping my stomach any. I felt so sick I didn’t have anything left to be heartbroken with.

Laura went inside, and a moment later I followed, holding my breath before I went in.

I could feel the cold and the stench on my face as I entered, like walking into a clammy mist. There were row upon row of industrial freezers, some of them with their glass doors open and fluids spilling out from mysterious containers. Also eggs, cracked open and rotten and smashed on the floor. Some were smaller than hens’ eggs, others were bigger than ostriches’.

All were smashed, or warm and decaying. All of them … except one.

We both saw it at the same time. It was on the shelf in the last operational freezer, the only one with a light on in front. Laura nodded to it, urgently, and I hurried to the door and opened it. The inside was like a meat locker; the air smelled fresh, but it burned my lungs it was so cold.

The egg was one of the larger ones. I tried to pick it up, but my fingers almost stuck to it, scraping a layer of frost as they did. Thinking quickly, I took off my coat and wrapped it around the egg, then took it in both arms and hurried out of the room.

Laura turned off the generator and left it there, then held the front door open for me. I ran outside and gasped for breath, then looked around just in time to see Laura throw up over the stair railing. I looked away fast, and tried not to think about it as my own stomach lurched.

Finally, she finished, although she looked and sounded queasy. “This way,” she said, and hurried down an alleyway, clutching her stomach. I followed her.

We sat on opposite sides of the fire she’d started beneath an emergency stairwell, the egg bundled in my coat like a nest. Water dripped down its outside.

“Turn it around,” Laura said, without looking up.

I rotated it. The side that was facing the fire was burning hot. “Are you trying to cook it?” I asked, incredulous.

“I’m trying to let it thaw.”

I moved it farther away from the fire.

She sat there, motionless, arms wrapped around her knees. Looking down at the fire. I looked up at the sky and the roofs of buildings, and my gaze lingered on the sparkling shine of the concrete edges above for a long moment. Then I looked back down at the egg.

It was awhile before either of us said anything.

“I guess a printout didn’t cut it?” I asked.

“Huh?” She looked up.

“For the biometric security. A printout of his face wouldn’t work because the scanner was stereoscopic.”

“Laura” looked back down at the fire, and shivered.

“How long did it take you to find me?” I asked. “To find someone who looked enough like him?”

She hesitated a moment before admitting “Three days.” She didn’t look up as she spoke. “There were a half-dozen matches online, but most of them had disappeared. When I found you, and you lived so close to Chicago, I … I thought it was a sign.”

“From whom? The ancient dragons?”

She sighed, and then nodded.

“Bull.”

“Zach-”

“What story would you have used if I hadn’t bought that one? Would you have tried to tell me there were jewels in there? Shown me a treasure map? Told me you’d found my parents!?” My voice got more shrill until I was screaming at her. It echoed.

“When you had that dream, I thought it was a sign too … ”

“So you lied to me.”

She looked up. “I was trying to help-”

“You lied to me. You made everything up. You made it all up as you went, and didn’t bother to say you were playing pretend.” I turned the egg over, again. “So what’s this from, then? An emu? A roc?”

“Laura” stood, suddenly furious. “You listen to me, boy. That egg is a dragon egg. And I don’t know about you, but I am a dragon inside.” She pointed at herself. “I’ve had those dreams almost every night since before It happened. I saw dragon civilization. I lived it. Those filthy humans took it away from me, and I want it back.”

I shook my head slowly, feigning sadness. “You’re so good at lying, you’ve managed to lie to yourself.”

“What did you say?”

I just looked up at her, calmly. It was a while before she spoke.

“Give me the egg,” she finally said.

“Fine.” I unwrapped my coat from it, and slung my coat over one shoulder before picking the egg up and handing it to her.

She took it and smashed it against the wall.

“What did you do that for?” I shouted.

“What, you think I can raise one of these things? It would just suffer and die, if it even hatched. The only reason I came here was so I can do this.” She took out a clear soulgem, and held it over the remains. And I looked down, down at …

It looked like a blur at first, and it reminded me of the blur in my screen when I looked at my reflection. The shape that didn’t make sense … that didn’t match to anything I could recognize. For a long moment, I worried that she was right.

Then it’s like something clicked, in my brain, and I started to recognize what I was seeing. The teeth, claws, pebbled scales slick with half-frozen slime … the eyes squeezed shut, forever. And I realized what I was looking at.

“That’s not a dragon!” I exclaimed.

“Yes, it is!” Laura hissed.

“No, it’s not!” I shouted back at her, as the mists swirled in her crystal to create a true soulgem. “It’s a dinosaur! That was some kind of genetics lab!”

“Of course it was! And where do you think dragon stories come from, anyway? Huh?” Laura snapped.

“So, wait.” I folded my arms. “Did you have dreams of being a dragon dragon or a dinosaur dragon? Because I was the kind that flies and breathes fire.”

She didn’t answer, but just looked down at her soulgem.

“How much of this did you make up? Do you even know where the line between your pretend games and the real world is, anymore? How do you-”

“I know what the humans did to me!” she yelled.

I watched her clenching and unlenching her fists, like she was trying to say something else but couldn’t. “I know what they took,” she finished.

On another day, I would’ve felt sorry for her. At the time, though, I couldn’t care less.

“From you or the ‘dragons?’” I asked, making air quotes.

“Both.”

“You know humans supposedly weren’t around at the same time as the dinosaurs.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Her voice became growl-y and snarling. “That’s all you creatures ever do. You take and take and destroy everything, and you kill what you can’t take.”

I glanced down at the egg. “Well, then it looks like you finished our job for us. I hope you’re happy.”

She screamed, and shattered the soulgem at her feet.

That’s when I took off running.

Back at the camp just outside the city, people are starting to notice that Zach is missing. No one can find him or his smartphone, and they get an error message when they try to call.

Meanwhile, someone in a shed is opening a lockbox, and counting the dim soulgems slotted into the top, held tight to the foam padding by elastic bands. One of the loops in the middle hangs slack, empty. The label taped to the foam rubber behind it reads “Six-Lined Racerunner.”

I’d never used a soulgem before, not even the “dim” kind that didn’t cause permanent change. I’d been given the chance once, but I was too shy.

Right now I didn’t have time to worry, or even to think about it. I threw the gem down as I ran, jumping through the cloud and trying to keep running in the couple of seconds it took me to change. I stumbled a moment, scraping my hands on the ground, but they healed over as they became slick and leathery. My glasses fell off as I ran, but my eyesight and vision changed at about the same time that I grew a whiplike lizard tail. And after that I took off like nobody’s business, running out of the alley and turning right down the street.

A minute ago I’d been exhausted. Now I felt full of energy, more alive than ever, air rushing past my earholes as I ran faster than I’d ever biked. I wondered if this was what it was like for other anthros, and couldn’t believe that I hadn’t done this sooner.

I looked back just in time to see something run out of the alley and crash into an abandoned car, kicking off of it and stumbling after me. It was shaped sort of like her and wearing her clothes, but it had a long rigid tail, and was leaning almost all the way forward as it ran. Its arms were spread out like pincers, and its bare feet had huge sickle-claws like curved daggers.

I was still disoriented by having my eyes on the sides of my head, but I could see rows of sharp teeth, and a murderous face that I remembered from countless dinosaur movies and games. It was catching up alarmingly fast now that we were both on a straight track, even though I was in Racerunner form. I remembered phrases like “cheetah speed,” from the dinosaur movies and games, and realized that I needed to do something fast.

Up ahead of me, a skyscraper had fallen over, and crushed the buildings on the other side. I took a deep breath and sprinted towards it, changing lanes before running up the back of a car and jumping from it to the van in front; then leaping up to the open windowframe and grabbing on, pulling myself through the part that wasn’t rimmed with broken glass.

Because of the angle the building was at, it didn’t look like a structure at all to me. Just an obstacle course, with parts that were shaped vaguely like furniture. I took a half-second to get my bearings before running through the first open, side-tilted door that I saw, using my tail and my hands to steady myself and push off of things. When I got to a stairwell I started climbing on the sideways bars. I’d never been good at climbing, but when I heard her crash into the room I’d come in at I took off up that rail like nobody’s business.

A moment later I saw her much closer as she tore into the stairwell, clawing drywall and wood framing aside. “Come back here!” she shouted up at me.

“Heck no,” I breathed, panting with exertion as I tried to climb. I saw a doorway above me and started making for it.

“Stupid human mess,” she said to herself, surveying the landscape, before climbing the railing behind me. Her sickle-claws had wallpaper stuck to them, and kept clanging on metal and getting stuck in the rails. “I’m glad I’m not human anymore!” she called out, while trying to untangle her feet. “The world doesn’t need you! You’re an endangered species, and you’re going to die out!”

I paused, hands on the edge of the doorway above me and feet on the railing, and looked down at her. “The world needs humans,” I growled, just loud enough that she could hear me. Then I pulled myself up through the doorway.

I’m still not sure what I meant by that. Did I mean “humans” as in the species, or “humans” as in people? I was kind of going on instinct at the time. Either way, it sure got her mad. Her hiss echoed across the stairwell, and the sounds of claws clanking on metal sped up.

More rooms, more furniture. It didn’t take me long to get to the end, not with adrenaline pushing me. It occurred to me, as I pried open the window on “top” of the building and pulled myself through, that I shouldn’t be trying to goad her; I should be trying to lose her. Oh well, I thought, too late for that. Then I set both feet on the rough stone outside, and looked up.

The fallen skyscraper was tilted at a shallow angle, and there were only two ways I could go: down or up. I looked down first, but only saw a steep dropoff and sharp-looking wreckage beneath. So I took off running the other way, hoping I’d find some cover to take. I looked at windows as I passed by them, trying to find one that was open.

By now I was starting to tire, and by that I mean that even through the adrenaline rush I was becoming shaky. My breathing was getting ragged, and my legs were threatening to give out. But then she jumped through the window that I’d come out of, landing lightly on her feet and shaking herself off before looking up at me. That gave me the burst of fear that I needed to run even faster.

Where to go? I thought. But I started to realize there was no place to go, and that even if I found someplace to dive into she’d be on me before I could get inside. So I just put everything into running a straight track between windows, hoping that something would happen.

I passed out of shadow and into the Glare from the crater, and for a moment I thought This is it; at least it will be less painful. But then I remembered I was an anthro at the moment, and the air and concrete seemed to sparkle around me but I was unaffected. The next thing that came to my mind was those nature documentaries where the predator leaps on their prey, and I didn’t look behind me but I knew that was going to happen. My heart rate sped up, and I squinted through tears.

I looked up just in time to see the edge of the building, and for a split-second my brain said Jump! But I stopped just in time, dropping to my knees and scraping to a halt right in front of it.

Right then, two things happened.

First, Laura jumped … and went right over me.

Second, I reached out and caught her hand.

What!? my lizard brain thought, just as I smacked into the side of the building, pushed flat against it by her weight. My arm felt like it was being pulled from its socket, claws dug sharply into my wrist, and I heard more claws scrape on the flat concrete roof. Starting to scrape and slide across the wall, I grabbed onto the edge of a window and tried to hold myself in place, my own claws digging in and scraping across the rough stone.

My shoulder hung over dead air, and my arms were about to give as her weight pulled me towards the edge. Then her claws found purchase on something and she jumped, landing next to me and yanking me up with her. We tumbled for a second and landed in a heap next to each other, plastered to the side of the building and gasping over and over again.

It was probably five or ten minutes before either of us said anything. I could feel my legs, arms, and shoulders cramping up, and could feel the raw skin and the cuts on my hand sting, but I couldn’t do anything about it. I was spent.

Finally she looked up at me. “Why … ” She swallowed, and gasped again. “Why did you do that?”

I wanted to give her a reason, but I couldn’t. I’d done it on instinct, when I saw her flying over the edge. So I just said “The world needs dragons, too.”

Then I fell asleep, the Glare shining off of my scales.

People are starting to get worried. They haven’t seen Zach all day. Nobody knows where he’s gone. Most of them don’t know him personally, but word starts to spread that a human kid disappeared.

It’s not until late evening that somebody notices a figure walking slowly up to camp, from the road that leads to the city. The spotter does a double-take, when he sees what species she is. And he does another when he sees who she’s carrying in both arms.

I barely remembered being carried back up to the camp. I’d slept through most of that day, and was groggy and incoherent for most of the trip back. I slept through all of the next day too, and when I woke up I didn’t know what time of day it was. I just knew the sun was getting in my eyes.

I moaned and reached up to rub my eyelids, and then I saw that my hands had claws and scales. I stared for a long moment before remembering. After that my long tail started to get cramped up, so I staggered out of my tent and stretched drowsily.

The sun was beginning to set. I could hear the fire crackling and smell the food cooking, and it smelled more delicious than ever. I wondered how long I would stay this way, as I went to get ready for dinner. I also wondered what’d happened to “Laura.”

It was a little while before I got my answer. Someone tapped me on the shoulder while I was finishing eating, and I looked up and jumped. Melinda was standing behind me.

She handed me a crumpled sheet of paper, and said “The girl who brought you here left you this.”

“Huh … ” I took it in one hand and looked over it, holding it to the side because of how my head was now shaped. The writing was hard to make out, and kept trailing off into squiggles as though she’d slipped and lost hold of the pen.

“Everyone thought you’d been kidnapped,” Melinda said. “We had people searching the woods for you.”

“Er, sorry … ”

“You can tell us what happened whenever you’re ready.” She walked off.

I looked more closely at the paper, and read it from the beginning:

“I wish you hadn’t said what you did. Not the last part; the part that got me angry at you.

” — Maya”

I paced back and forth in front of the fire long after the others had gone to bed, my tail casting a shadow behind me. I kept thinking of what to say, writing long, rambling letters in my head. I wanted to comfort her; I wanted to chastise her; I wanted to make her problems go away and make her feel guilty at the same time. A couple of times I started to type something in awkwardly, trying to press the onscreen keys around my clawtips, then deleted it.

Finally, I wrote this.

“Hi maya

“Thanks for taking me back. Sorry to here what happened to you. I hope things turn out well”

I paused for a long moment, frustrated with my phone’s spelling corrections, before taking a deep breath and continuing.

“You are a dragon now. The world needs you in it. Don’t get hung up on what happens tomorrow. Just be yourself.

” — Zach”

I pressed “Send.” Then I banked the fire and poured water on it, and left to get ready for bed.

That night Zach has the dream again. Except this time, he’s not a dragon. He’s the lizard that he became, using the soulgem, and he’s using his speed to escape his pursuers. The feeling of running seems real, but this time he’s not scared. He’s confident and full of energy, and they’re not. He taunts them the way he did Maya, and they make amusing mistakes.

He’s going to become a Racerunner. And he’s going to be the fastest thing in the camp.

He fired, controlling the recoil with practiced hands. Twenty yards into the trees he saw wood splinter, and a tiny black mark where his shell had hit. He leaned his rifle on the sanded armrest, brushed his dark brown hair out of his face, and looked up … and up … and up, at the pile of furs and hides beside him.

At the top, two feet over his head, a white tiger’s face grinned a cocky grin down at him. The tiger unshouldered an enormous rifle, then brought his snow boots apart and took aim at the target board, not even using the armrest down at his waist. His ears folded back; his tail went taut. Then he fired, and Mark jumped at the ear-cracking sound. When Mark looked up, he saw half of the target board still standing up, and a cloud of splinters slowly settling down to the snow behind it.

Mark gave the tiger a disgusted look. “How’d you get so big when you have to drink your kills through a straw? If that’d been a deer, you would’ve turned it to chunky salsa.” He pointed out at the target board.

The tiger just laughed. “You think this is a hunting rifle?” He held it out for Mark to examine. “This thing’s anti-tank. Russian-made.”

Mark looked it over, trying not to show how envious he was. “Yeah, I bet those Russian tanks made really good eating.”

“No.” The tiger grinned. “Just the people inside.”

“Oh you did not.”

He laughed. “I came close a couple of times! Crazy mercs guarding those Russian oilfields. They’ve still got oil out there, you know.”

“That why you ran off to Siberia?” Mark leaned up against the armrest, curling his toes inside his boots and trying to unfreeze them. “More gasoline for the truck’s engine?”

“Naw. I signed up to impress women.” He flexed his arms, still covered thickly in furs. “You think the girls’ll go for me now?”

“Yeah, if they like carpet salesmen.”

The tiger gave him an unamused look, then broke off a tree limb and swung it playfully at him. Mark ducked underneath, then picked up a fallen branch and swung in fast, smacking his furs and hides twice before he could parry. The two of them “fought” for almost a minute, Mark swinging fast and the tiger blocking half of his hits, before the tiger caught Mark’s stick in mid-swing and swung him into a snowdrift.

Mark crawled out, spitting snow out of his mouth and brushing it off of his coat and pants. “I’ll have you know you used to be the smaller one!”

The tiger just smiled.

Mark walked back over to where he had dropped his rifle, and shouldered it. “You just wait. I’m gonna sign up for an Expeditionary Force-”

“Don’t.” The smile vanished. “I’m serious.”

“Fine, I’ll just walk to Siberia on my lonesome then. Or Greenland. Heck, I could make it to Africa if I wanted to. I’ll find some mad, killer animal out there, and I’ll come back nine feet tall and kick your sorry tail into next week.”

One massive paw ruffled the hair on Mark’s head and nearly pushed him into the snow, before he shoved it off. “You can try, bro, you can try.” He smacked him on the back, and walked past him. “C’mon, it’s time for dinner.”

Mark didn’t come, straightening himself out and giving the tiger’s back a disgusted look until he was almost out of sight. Then he got out a clear jewel from his pocket, and looked through it at his brother. The tiger shone an intense royal blue, wisps of energy radiating off of him and brushing the thin green strands inside each tree.

Mark put the gem away, and sighed before heading back towards home.

That night’s dinner was sparse. The hunting expeditions had come back empty-handed, and the supply from last year’s harvest was running low. Matilda insisted on making sure there was dinner for Mark’s brother, though, and so he ate rich, warmed, salted venison, while Mark chewed on dry jerky and ignored the growl in his stomach.

It wasn’t easy. No one else had come out to dinner because there wasn’t any, so it was just Mark, his brother, and Matilda around the campfire, surrounded by canvas tents and RVs with missing hoods and wheels. And Mark listened to the two of them talk, while watching flakes of bark and old newspapers peel off of the pile of burning logs, and drift up into the tree shadows and the stars.

Matilda was a bison. Somehow, she’d managed to find one. Mark could still remember the diminutive girl she’d once been, almost as much shorter than him as he was compared to his brother now. And he remembered he’d used to tease her a lot.

Now she was even larger than his brother, with hooves and thick hand-paws, and a warm smile that went with her homemade calico dress. Mark had used to make fun of her “arts and crafts.” But ever since she’d taken charge of the camp, they’d all learned how practical it was to make their own things and grow their own food. Instead of just hunting and foraging.

Mark still remembered the year before that … the dry wolf meat, worn-out old blankets and leaky tents. Those had been some long nights.

Matilda had really changed since those days. And so had Mark’s brother, he thought. He watched the two of them, sitting next to each other, but he wasn’t listening to their words. He was watching their facial expressions. The way Matilda laughed, rocking back on the log and waving a hand as though to ward off his brother. And the way that he watched her intently, and smiled before saying something that set her off again. The two of them just seemed so … confident. So full of life. Mark bet that they’d be glowing brighter than the fire if he looked at them both through the gem.

Enough waiting, Mark thought, and looked out at the trees in the distance. Tomorrow it’s my turn.

But what to become? he wondered. There was no way he could outdo either of them.

Something tricky, he thought with a grin. Like a fox. A vicious, savage fox-

Somebody stepped out from behind one an RV decked out in solar panels, and yawned before heading inside of it. It was Alvin, their tech support, and he was a red fox. Just like half the people in this camp. Everyone wants to be a fox. So foxes are out.

But Mark still wanted something tricky. What could out-trick a trickster?

He sat there for another few minutes, thinking. And when he finally decided, he laughed, and made the other two look over at him.

Mark waved them aside, and went off to his own tent.

The next morning, Mark waited outside of Al’s camper, for the fox to come out and unlock the steel case on the side. There inside it were everyone’s phones, freshly charged and ready to use.

Al nodded greetings to Mark, and Mark got his phone out while Al typed intently on his. From there Mark didn’t wait for anyone else, but headed straight for the road into the suburbs.

It was a long walk, but the road was clear for miles. The cars has been cleared off already, so there was no place to hide. Mark didn’t mind, and began whistling as he walked, making good time as the sun moistened the frost on the grass.

He turned on his phone and checked the GPS, for Google Maps’ species markers. The one that he wanted was still there, and had last been checked just a week ago. There should be a healthy den.

Mark didn’t need a whole den, he thought, and felt the weight of the rifle on his back. He just needed one of them.

It took him a couple of hours to get into town. Finally, Mark hopped down from the offramp and headed past the old restaurants, with smashed-in glass windows and posters of Ronald McDonald’s face, and hiked down the forest road that led to the gated communities.

He looked out into the forest as he walked, at the dry leaves and dead branches covered with snow. Some deer were spooked by his approach, and he snapped his fingers and watched them go, stomach rumbling. Oh well, he thought. I’ve still got plenty of beef jerky.

The place he arrived at was an upscale gated community, with the kind of houses that had a bathroom for every person and a garage door for every car. Mark stepped over the broken, wooden board that had once been lowered next to the guardhouse, and checked his phone to make sure of his destination. He thought he could see it from where he was at; it had an octagonal upper window, and blue walls.

Mark didn’t go inside. Instead, he went to the house across the street, and tossed a few rocks in the door to make sure there was nothing inside. After that he pulled out a plastic chair from the dining room and set it up at the living room’s picture window, where he had a good view of the blue house. Then he went through the rooms to see if there was anything else. The kitchen had already been cleaned out, but there was a stash of comic books in one of the upstairs bedrooms. He brought them downstairs, and leafed through them while waiting for movement outside.

It took longer than he had expected. Hours longer. Mark turned on his phone again, and checked Wikipedia. It said they were mostly nocturnal, and he had been hoping. Mark sighed, and snacked on some fruit leather while reading about Spider-man’s second marriage.

When it was getting close to suppertime he saw a buck deer, walking across the road. Then another, and pretty soon there was a whole family of them. Mark gave them a weird look. This close to the den? he thought. Can’t they, like, smell it? He wondered if the marker had been correct, and thought of bagging one of them just so he didn’t come back empty-handed. Mark’s stomach gnawed at him, and he remembered what his brother’s meal had smelled like.

Then he saw it. Like a miniature gray-and-red wolf, the coyote leaned inside the open doorway of the house across the street, crouched low and waiting for them to come closer. Mark slowly got up, standing inside the shadows, and unshouldered his rifle and aimed at it.

He would only get one shot. He just hoped that the glass didn’t deflect the bullet too much.

Mark had just gotten the coyote lined up in the crosshairs, when his phone rang. Immediately the coyote’s ears perked, as did the tails and ears of the deer outside.

Mark froze, in the seconds of silence afterwards. Then his phone rang again, and he found himself inwardly cursing whoever’d decided to call him.

It rang a third time. The deer finally bolted, and the coyote leaped out and chased after them. Disgusted, Mark got out his phone and pushed Send. “What?”

It was Matilda’s voice. “Mark, where are you? We’re getting an expedition ready to go out hunting again.”

“I’m in the suburbs. Okay? And I was this close to bagging my prize.” He heard squealing, and snarling, and loud bellows outside. “And a whole herd of deer, while I was at it.”

She said something, but he couldn’t hear it. The bellows had gotten louder. “Look, I’ll call you back. Okay?”

He couldn’t hear what she said.

“Okay?”

“Okay!” he finally heard her exclaim.

He pushed Cancel, and stepped outside the front door. The herd was long-gone, but the coyote had downed one of the deer. It was snarling and tearing at it, and even at this distance Mark could hear the buck bellow in agony. It hurt his ears.

Mark unshouldered his rifle, took careful aim, and fired. The coyote dropped. A second shot, and the bellows stopped.

Mark ran over to where the two lay, only stopping ten feet away from them to smack himself on the forehead. “Argh!” he exclaimed, and followed it up with a few choice words. “What in the heck was I thinking?” He looked down at the two entwined bodies, then got out his gem and looked at it. It’d already begun to absorb the stray wisps of energy, the ones escaping from their husks. And he thought that it felt a bit heavier, too.

For a moment, Mark stood there, weighing the options in his mind as the gem slowly changed colors. He thought of getting a new gem, however long that might take. Then he looked down at the buck deer and its antlers, and a thought came to Mark’s mind.

He held the gem out over the animals, until it glowed and practically dripped with energy. Then he held it close to his chest … and let it drop, to smash open on the pavement.

That evening whole families ate around the campfire. Human children sat on logs and kicked their feet, waiting anxiously, while their parents moved around getting plates set up on the wooden tables. Matilda wore a warm green dress and earmuffs, and carried a salad bowl to the table where two venison roasts already lay.

She nearly dropped it when she saw Mark come into camp. He was wearing the same coat, but he had the face of a coyote … and the antlers of a buck deer.

Mark unshouldered a sack with two legs sticking out of it, and dropped it next to his hooves. He looked over at the cooked roasts on the table; then looked up at Matilda, and grinned. “What, did they go on without me?”

Matilda stared. “I … ”

“All the more for me, then.” Mark picked back up his bag, and went to go get his cooking utensils.

Vincent parries with a flourish, and holds his sword out at Tim dramatically.

RACHEL and COURTNEY run past, chasing each other behind the swordfight. Rachel is short and a tiny bit heavy-set, wearing a black T-shirt and blue jeans along with cat ears and a tail. Courtney is taller and redheaded, and wears lighter colors.

Onstage, the swordfight continues. Tim is swinging aggressively, and forcing Vincent to one side.

He swaps weapon hands with a flourish, and begins to force Timothy back again.

Rachel starts shooting foam-rubber darts at Courtney. Courtney drops all the rocks and runs, and Rachel shouts and chases her backstage as the swordfight continues.

The lights flicker backstage, and Rachel and Courtney can be heard laughing.

Rachel and Courtney scream, and Vincent jumps to his feet, startled. He and Timothy look around themselves, trying to see what just happened ... as Rachel's scream dissolves into laughter, and Courtney's into tears.

Vincent and Timothy run backstage.

Courtney runs back onstage, crying. There's nothing visibly different about her. Behind her, Rachel walks onstage.

The lighting flickers backstage.

A loud ROAR is heard, and Courtney and Rachel jump.

She runs backstage, and Rachel follows her.

The lights backstage flicker a couple more times, then turn off. Everyone walks back onstage, Courtney trailing with her arms folded.

Everyone turns to look at Courtney. Her face turns red.

Rachel backs away from Courtney, shocked.

Everyone turns to look backstage.

Vincent edges closer to the backstage area while they're all talking.

Vincent makes it to one of the canvas backdrops, and quickly ducks behind it while everyone is distracted.

The light turns on backstage, and another loud ROAR shakes the auditorium. Everyone jumps.

They run backstage, and more running footsteps are heard afterwards. Timothy looks around for a second, idly kicks at the loose props beside him, then walks backstage after them. A second later, the light turns off.

END OF ACT ONE

INT. HIGH SCHOOL AUDITORIUM

The stage is divided in two right now, with stage left being well-lit and attractive and stage right made to look like backstage. Everyone hurries around getting stage left set up for the upcoming play, pulling backdrops into place and setting up a folding table, while leaving things strewn about stage right and occasionally running back to get them.

Vincent starts nailing something to the wall. Rachel panics and starts waving her arms at him, and he rolls his eyes and goes to put it up where she's pointing at.

Courtney checks her hair in a compact, and Tim gets out a handheld game console and starts playing it. Vincent gives him a disgusted look, and makes him take the hammer and nails before heading backstage.

The light turns on in back, and a tiger's ROAR shakes the stage. Rachel runs backstage and comes back dragging Vincent behind her-

Fade out for a second, then back in as the "play" begins. Stage left has a chair behind a folding table set up on a stretch of carpet, with ferns to either side. Anime posters cover the walls.

RACHEL is seated behind the table, wearing a beret. She files her nails, and flips through papers in front of her, looking bored. COURTNEY is wearing a tail, and cat ears over her long red hair, and the thickest glasses that can be found. Meanwhile, on stage right, TIMOTHY keeps checking his watch nervously, and VINCENT moves things around "backstage."

She sees Rachel (who doesn't notice her), and gasps.

Timothy walks on-"stage" and hands Rachel a note. She thanks him and reads it.

Rachel tosses the note over her shoulder, and gets up and starts walking.

Courtney turns around with a start, to head towards the desk, and collides with Rachel as she's walking past. Rachel falls over, dazed, and Courtney stares in horror.

Vincent steps to the edge of the partition and hands her a pen. She takes it, embarrassed.

SHIFT FOCUS from stage left to stage right, by dimming the lights, or adjusting sound levels, or whatever seems most appropriate. Vincent is pushing a broom across the floor, and Timothy is nervously fiddling with his game console.

SHIFT FOCUS, from right to left.

SHIFT FOCUS, from left to right.

SHIFT FOCUS, from right to left.

SHIFT FOCUS, from left to right.

SHIFT FOCUS, from right to left.

SHIFT FOCUS, from left to right.

SHIFT FOCUS, from right to left.

The stage light comes on, as Vincent passes through the partition. Through the other side comes either Vincent as his furry self, or a performer in the most realistic fursuit possible ... whichever is most convenient. ^.^ Courtney and Rachel stare.

She faints.

Rachel stares.

FIN! And as the performers take a bow, a creaking noise is heard over the speakers, right before Vincent's stage light comes loose and swings down to point at the audience ... above a gaggle of fursuited performers, who panic as only they can. THE END.