Anise bends her arms inward. The little pooch of her stomach over the band of her yoga pants stretches taut as her peachy butt arches. “Now we slooowly come back to neutral,” she says. “Left palm on your belly. Left knee bent. Little farther, Evan. Perfect. Just like that. And roll toward your right side. And if you want to use your right arm as a pillow, do it. Now two deeeeep breaths.”

Dee obediently inhales. Behind her, Graila whispers something to Kell that makes them giggle.

“Exhale. Forward fold. Take another breath here… feel that chest and belly expand. And as you come up, join your palms right over your heart.” Anise straightens. A silver strand of her hair, escaped from her bun, rests across the bridge of her nose. “Namaste, ya big lunks.”

“Namaste,” repeat the Earthlings. Graila snickers.

Anise shakes out her hamstring. “I can tell I haven’t converted Graila yet.”

“I like it fine,” Graila says. “It’s just kinda a bunch of stretches and a nice nap. I like a stretch and a nap.”

“It’s kind of that, yeah. When you’re starting out. But yoga has its utilities. Like if you do it enough, you can do this.” Anise takes hold of her ankle, raises her leg straight up into the air and, with a graceful lean and a flex of her cushioned thigh, folds it behind her head, standing perfectly balanced on one bare foot. She catches Dee’s agape expression and gives it a smoky-lidded wink. “Give me a flat surface and the right motivation and I can do ‘em both.”

“Motherfucker,” Graila says.

And proud of it, Dee thinks, as she shrugs her tunic on. “All right, people. Now that we’re loosened up, and before we strap up, it’s tangr’ak time. You know how to get a good boil going, Kell?”

“Uh huh.” Kell tucks her toque on, then picks Thekla up and slings her over one shoulder. “Just gonna be right outside.”

Thekla flails as Kell abducts her through the tent flap. “Human! Help!”

“Be right there.” Evan gingerly steps back into his boots and hastens after his wives.

“I’mma go find Warrin.” Graila shoulders her rifle.

“It could be any old fella, but it’s always Warrin.” Dee taps her chin. “Interesting.”

“You don’t know what I’m doing. Maybe I’m gonna go punch him in the stomach.”

“Sure, Grail. Sure.”

Graila blows a raspberry at her packmistress as she departs.

Dee cracks her knuckles. “Okey-doke. C’mere, little yogi.” She beckons Anise, who’s stacking up the folded yoga mats. “Me and Nicky are gonna wrestle ya.”

Anise shrinks back. “Maybe I just watch.”

“She’s kidding.” Nick hooks an arm across Dee’s lower back. “Let’s make out.”

Two minutes of blissful exploration and Dee makes the executive decision to break it off before they’re late to the hunting ground. She leads her lovers to the armory tent and they put together their harnesses.

The hunting rifle Anise picks out looks so comically big in her little hands. Dee unbuckles her handgun and holds it out to her. “Here you go, hon. Use this.”

“Your revolver?” Anise hesitates. “Isn’t this, like, a big deal symbolic thing?”

“Sure,” Dee says. “But it also makes bullets go, and you already know how to use it. Technically, while you’re holding it with my permission, you run the pack. Promise you won’t disband it or nothing.”

“I promise.” Anise takes the holster and gun from Dee’s outstretched hand. “To take your advisement into ongoing consideration.”

Nick holds up a hand as he adjusts the strap on his hunting rifle. “Don’t point it at anything you don’t want to destroy. Did I mention that last time?”

“I don’t hugely want to destroy a deer.”

“Well, good news.” Nick tosses Dee a walkie-talkie. “You probably won’t. I barely can and our packmistress has been trying to train me for a couple months now.”

Thekla gingerly hefts her fancy gift rifle. “I worry I am going to break this thing the first time I shoot it.”

“Kamiyon craftsmanship is always functional first,” Sion says. At Thekla’s smile, he continues: “Gaudy, frilly, garish, maybe. But functional.”

Thekla holds her rifle tighter. “You’re wearing tights, Sion. Into the woods.”

“I’m wearing hose.”

The group splits. Graila has brought her boy-toy Warrin, and the two of them take Sion and the Kamiyons off in one direction. Dee takes Quillbear in another.

It’s a clear, crisp afternoon. They’re far enough up the continent now that a few inches of snow are on the ground. Maybe it’s because Anise is being warmed by two packmates every night now, or maybe she’s upgraded her Earthling civilian coat into a furry, insulating Packland tunic. But all her old complaints about the cold are gone by the wayside.

“Do I need to be doing anything?” she asks. “Looking for tracks, all that?”

“Nah.” Dee scoots over a fallen tree. “We’re talking so loud, we’re gonna scare ‘em off.”

Anise puts a hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she breathes through it.

Nick chuckles. “We got plenty of venison, baby. And Graila and Warrin might catch more. This is just an excuse to take a cute walk in the woods with our lil’ elf. And some cool guns.”

“I do feel very Lone Ranger with this thing.” Anise holds onto the holster as Dee lifts her over the fallen tree.

“Oh, yeah.” Dee plops Anise onto the ground on the other side. “Dangerous woman right here.”

They move through a thin clearing, snow crunching under their boots. Dee’s using a craggy ridge in the middle distance as a visual marker.

“I used to hate hiking,” Anise is saying.

“Same,” Nick says. “Well not hate it, but it was hard to get me out there. Never as frequent as now.”

“I guess it’s momentum, right? Like no needing to take the commuter rail every time.” Anise scampers across a low stone ridge. “And no shows to watch.”

“I think about that sometimes,” Nick says. “The last season of Misty Eyre was about to come out and now I’ll never see it.”

“Misty Eyre!” Anise snaps her fingers. “Oh, I’m so far behind on it. Would never peg you as a watcher. Kinda girly.”

“You kidding? Lord Boughton taught me how to be a man. I caught every episode, night-of. Little ritual. Even after it got terrible.”

“I’m not kidnapping your asses, guys,” Dee says. “We can go to Earth now and then, y’know. I’ve never been. And now I have the excuse. I need to meet my girlfriend’s kid.”

“God.” Anise grins ruefully. “I’m going to see you two next to her looking like you’re her classmates and I’m going to feel like an evil witch.”

“That’s the sort of thing we’re taking Dee to on Earth, though,” Nick says. “No time for tv shows and shit. Gotta play the hits.”

“I want to take Dee to a fast casual. Like Applebees or Craig’s.”

Nick raises a bemused eyebrow. “I meant like a helicopter ride.”

“Or a pro wrestling show.” Anise’s breath puffs out excitedly. “Thekla Kamiyon loves pro wrestling. She could get us ringside seats.”

“You’re trying to subject her to some real trashy stuff, huh?”

“Yeah but the good kind of trashy.” Anise bumps her hip against Dee’s. “That’s what Earth offers. We’ve got some supreme trash. Everything in the Old World is so… thoughtfully made. You take your time on things here.”

“Speaking of, uh, thoughtful. And taking our time.” Dee glances at Nick. He gives her a subtle nod of encouragement. She slows to a standstill and gathers Anise’s hand to halt her. The elf blinks inquisitively. Dee takes a moment to stabilize herself. “Nicky and me have been talking. About your future here and what you want it to look like.”

“I hadn’t really put it to too much thought. You mentioned treasurer?” Anise purses her lips. “I could do that.”

“Right. That’ll be good.” Dee presses her tongue to her tusk. “But I was thinking more your future with me and Nicky.”

“Oh.” Anise’s eyes go wide with apprehension. “I guess I thought that we’d be like this. From now on.” She shifts foot-to-foot. “I like this.”

“What if we wanted something else?” Dee watches a snowflake tumble from a tree onto Anise’s long, dark eyelash. “What if—”

The branch next to Anise’s head bursts in a shower of splinters. A moment later, there’s a rolling bang across the trees.

Dee tackles Anise to the ground.

“What the fuck?” Anise struggles beneath the packmistress for a frantic moment before Dee is back on her feet. She grabs her revolver from Anise’s grip and lifts the elf over a shoulder. She sprints, firing blind over her shoulder to keep their would-be assassin’s head down.

“Nicky,” she roars. “Gunfire. Sniper.”

“Who was that? Is someone shooting at us?” Anise is bobbing in Dee’s arms.

Dee hairpin turns around a tree. “Yes.”

The tree trunk implodes as another bullet punches through it. Dee hurls Anise into the snow behind a low stone ridge and dives after her. Nick slides into her side. Her heart slams in her throat. The distant rifle has gone silent.

“You get a look at them?” Nick asks.

Dee shakes her head.

He wipes snow off his pant leg. “Who the fuck is shooting at us?”

“It’s from Corvan. It’s gotta be.” Anise is shaking violently. “This is me. He called my bluff.”

Dee pulls her hat off. “We work on the who later.” She balances her ushanka on the end of her rifle and raises it slowly above her head. A whipping force and a silt thwap as it’s blown off the barrel. The rolling shot sounds a second later.

Dee pulls her radio off her belt. “Graila,” she hisses. “Shots from the East. Sniper on the ridge. Heard?”

The crunchy response: “All heard, chief.”

“One of you gets the VIPs out, one of you flanks and suppresses from the south.”

“Heard,” comes the clipped reply.

Dee tosses the radio to Nick. “Ani, honey. Focus on me for a second. Okay? If we’re lucky, they’ll withdraw as soon as we get enough fire on them. If not, we’ll get away or we’ll kill them. Either way, we’re getting out.” She puts a protective glove over Anise’s heart and feels the tangr’ak hone and sharpen. “We move when we hear rapid shots from that way.” She points south, then sweeps her pointer to indicate their path out. “Break cover to that gorge. Run fast, run straight there, do not swerve and do not stop until you’re under cover. Nicky, you too. Do not fire, just run. Stay low. We’ll keep their heads down.”

Nick slings his rifle. “Aye, chief.”

A rattling report through the still air, from the south. Dee bolts from cover. “Move.”

“Graila, we’re behind cover. Conserve your ammo.”

“Visual contact. Repeat, visual contact.” Graila’s urgent broadcast filters from the radio. “Three meters down from the southern side of the summit. Near the Y-cleft.”

“Y-cleft. Heard. Lay down some fire.” Dee crawls to the other edge of the gorge and dares to lift her hunting rifle’s scope. She gets a momentary glance at the spot on the summit Graila mentioned. Dust and stone chips kicked up from her suppressive fire. A shifting figure below and Dee ducks back down. Judging by the whirring snap that puffs the air around her ear, it’s just in time. Their attacker is fast, accurate, and disciplined.

“Nick,” she says. “I need you to shoot next time we break cover. Don’t worry about picking up a target. Just get shots at that ridge. Run and shoot. We move through those trees, keep our line of sight low, we get back into the gorge over that way where it deepens out again. That’s cover.”

Nick’s breath is whistling through his nose. “Aye.”

Dee takes a deep breath. It’s been many years since she’s been in a gunfight. She narrows her fire into a blowtorch beam. Get Nick and Anise out, she instructs her tangr’ak. Keep your pack safe. She hears Graila opening fire again. Her packmates have to be running out of ammo at this point; they brought enough bullets for a deer, not a sniper.

Dee holds her breath for a moment. She sees a bead of condensed sweat drip down a channel on the bridge of Nicky’s nose. She sees the snow powdering her elf’s green hair.

She can’t die before she’s mated Anise. She can’t. She should have imprinted on Anise weeks ago. How many days has she wasted? She needs more time.

Exhale. “Up.”

They rise and dash. Through splintering trees and cratering snow. Dee is third in line, revolver in hand, sinking another cylinder’s worth of bullets up-range.

A splatter of blood splays across the distant ridge. Yes!

But whatever it hit wasn’t fatal. And there’s a punch against her chest, like a disciplinary slap from the universe. She curses aloud and keeps running. Don’t slow down, don’t look down. Get cover, get back with your mates.

“Dee!” A heart-splitting scream from Anise.

Dee swings the cylinder of her revolver out as she skids into the gorge and mechanically starts loading bullets in. She drops one into the snow and it’s only when she crouches to pick it up that she realizes she can’t get up again.

She sits instead, heavily, her back resting on the gorge. She looks the way she came and sees the banner of blood she left on the snow in her wake. “Oh, tits,” she remarks.

“Dee. Oh, god. Oh no. Is it bad?” Anise is tearing open the first aid kit slung across her midsection.

“I’m okay,” Dee says, automatically. “I hit him. I think I hit him.” Then she coughs and something hot and wet streams down her chin.

Ah.

Nick’s hand seizes hers and presses it into her midsection. “Keep pressure on this. Keep holding this, baby.” Dee glances down and sees where he’s put her grip. She snorts a dry laugh out of her nostrils.

She can put on all the pressure she wants. She’s seen what happens when someone gets a hole put in them here. The only reason she’s still conscious is her blazing tangr’ak. And the fire is dimming with every damp exhalation. “It’s gonna be okay,” she lies.

“That’s my line. Hey.” Nick places himself in front of her, crouched and pale. “Eyes on me. You holding that?”

“Uh-huh.” Nicky. Her Nicky. His violet eyes. His packtongue into the radio is so good. A gory smile crosses her face. She taught him that. He’s come so far. He needs to keep going.

Maybe Anise can help. They can help each other. That’s something. That’s nice.

Another distant crack. Nick curses and ducks lower as the bullet whips past.

“Stay down,” mutters Dee. “Just stay down. Don’t—” cough. “Don’t get shot trying to fix me.”

It’s too late to fix me.

Dee’s ears are ringing through Nick’s reply. She can barely hear him.

A shape breaks the tree line. A bird? But the perspective is weird. Not moving closer but growing. And growing.

A shadow falls across Dee. A chill on her face. A chill all through her. The world is getting dark and fuzzy.

Her vision tilts to one side and follows the bird. No; not a bird. Flying and singing, but not a bird.

It crests the lid of the sky, blocking out the sun completely. It turns its massive horned head to the mountain crest. A useless crack of gunfire does little more than shave a scale from its underbelly.

Conna opens her massive, razor-lined mouth, and says:

“Die.”

The world clears its throat. Dee’s eardrums pressurize with a pop.

Fuckin’ dragons, man. Would it have killed her to show up a minute earlier?

“Everyone out of the way. Outta the goddamn way, please. Give him room.”

“Stay awake. Baby, stay awake. Please. Look at me.”

The star. She lurches. What if Nick fucks up and picks the wrong star? What if the Voraags all go somewhere else and leave her alone, on the end of the Stag’s horn?

“Exit wound. It’s passed through.”

Dee feels the blood welling out between her lips. “Nicky, the horn. The star on the horn.” She clutches weakly at his arm. “Don’t forget. Don’t forget which star.”

sion. SION.

put this here. hold it down.

oh jesus.

hold it. hold it there.

sion i need your guitar.

you’re okay, baby. I’ve got you. I love you, I love you.

“Ani,” she says.

that’s right. hold my hand. I’m right here. stay alive for me. stay with me.

keep that pressure on. do not stop putting that pressure on. SION.

bonfires. dee. is she

is she

“I’m alive,” she tries to say. “I’m fine.” But the breath for it comes up as blood instead, and she’s so cold. She’s so cold.

use me. use my power. what key are we in?

d minor. six eight. i need you to harmonize. hand right there, ani. good. pressure pressure pressure.

there’s so much blood. oh my god there’s so much.

kell. drum on anything that makes noise. uh the fucking rock maybe. one two three two two three.

Her mate is singing to her. She closes her eyes. So beautiful. His voice is so beautiful.

“Mend.”

The worst pain she’s ever felt.

The planet breaks in half and falls out of the sky.