The chalky dust sticks to the sweat on her wrists and the gaps between her fingers. She imagines herself turning into the cave lizards back home, with the grey scales and claw like fingers. Then she’ll climb the vertical rocky walls without any care whatsoever. But her transformation will have to wait. She has business in the foreign mountains and with each passing hour the sun sinks a bit further in the sky.

Her aunt came for her in the morning, long before the sun was due to rise. Looking back, its all a blur. Groggy and hungry she's dressed and backpack in hand. Her aunt's carriage was poised in the driveway; a yawning driver she didn't know waited for her to get in. Admittedly she fell asleep as it rocked through the streets. But when it stopped, and she saw the dawn breaking from the mountain tops, she began to understand her aunt's directions. The mountains surrounding the kingdom are fat but vertical. She’s convinced they are hand carved. He drops her off at an abandoned part of a deserted path. He offers no words of comfort, direction, or even acknowledges her presence.

That’s where she started and now, she’s lost on the dusty terrain overlooking Alexandria. It's bigger from her view at the pass, stretching until it squeezes against the base of the mountains. The peaks back home crawled with life. But not where she stands. A few patches of weeds poke from boulders. The occasional wiry bushes catch on her skirt, but overall, it's devoid of life. It's eerie, she realizes, then reaches for her water pouch. It's made of the stomach of a Fire Snapper and is almost tear proof. But unfortunately, it's almost empty.

Her feet hurt, she’s hungry, it's long past dawn; and the trip is wearing out it's welcome. She stares at the map her aunt gave her this morning. At first, she was excited and confident. An adventure at last! But the longer she stares the more the nagging feeling in her stomach eats away at her. The detailed maps her dad and Moira owned had place names and tiny pictures of cities and rivers. This one is sparse and crude, there’s zigzagging lines which she thinks are trails. Or maybe they’re peaks? Her only salvation is the crude fruit bush depicting round orange berries.

The mission is simple, get the cloudberries for the pie and come home. A perfect plausible task but now an abject failure. She's circled the area twice, maybe more, and her treasure is no where in sight. Instead, it's just her, steep vertical grey cliffs, and a piercing cerulean sky. She slumps against a boulder, realising the sheerness of walls makes climbing impossible. There’s only one way out but facing the endless weaving trails is too exhausting to consider. She’s alone, surrounded by rock, and no one cares. The berries she needs, aren’t here. How many belt lashings will it be if she can’t get the berries her auntie needs.

The bruises still hurt, and they’ll hurt more when she returns. Her hands tremble, crinkling the paper; but she needs to stay quiet or her aunt will yell again. The longer she stares, thinks about the sound, the louder it becomes. Jamming her arms between her knees and pressing them together doesn’t stop it. A fist squeezes her lungs until she can’t breathe. Her heart to thump against her ribs. Hot tears roll from her face, dripping from her chin and blotting her dirty bare knees.

It's not supposed to be like this.

Why can’t she have Charcoal, she misses his smooth scales brushing against her arms. But he’s gone, taken away like her parents were. Even Moira left her to rot on the mountain. A breeze brushes her skin, teases the map, before a gust yanks it from her fingers. Swirling, floating, and twisting high above her. Her mother’s voice reminds her to be brave but a low murmuring from above fills her with panic. It isn’t human. Her heart slams harder as the second drawn-out howl cracks the air. She steadies herself on wobbling legs noticing the first black wolf peeks over the ledge. More follow until seven Mountain Hounds surrounds her from cliffs. Thick drool drips on her arm as one growls in anticipation.

It’s like her father taught her, no sudden movements. She presses her back against the boulder, but it won’t turn her invisible. The long stretch of flat dusty trail stands between her and the exit. Can she make it before they reach her? Barking interrupts her thoughts, she notices the hounds gathering their courage before leaping from the perch. They fly over her, landing with a plume of dust, and block her escape. Their leader, the largest wolf with missing patches of fur, stalks closer. Grabbing a rock at her feet she hurls it at the alpha hitting his shoulder.

Despite her rocks, three more approach; their heads low and tongues lapping their lips. As the leader snarls her fingers fail to find pebbles to throw. His pack corners her, their matted greyish fur stands on end as adrenaline pumps through their bodies. Long stain fangs nip at her limbs. His scarred snout jams into her flailing arm, her screams bounce off the rock face, as he nips her flesh. The others lift their heads to the sky, howling in victory as the leader pins her to the ground. She chokes on the dust, his sweeping tail kicks into the air. His claws dig deeper into her exposed arms. Ferocious barks urge him to kill; his teeth poise on her throat.

“Get back you waste of space!” roars a deep voice from above.

A black shape yanks the hound from her; sending it rolling across the dirt. A familiar roar echoes as she recognizes the panther’s attack stance. His claws stretch over the dirt, but Eclipse is motionless. Surveying them as their snapping sprays saliva over the ground. Another hound lunges at her but Eclipse intersects it; tackling it into the dust. A second pounces at his vulnerable backside, but he slashes its face; sprinkling blood over his fur. He slams the third against the wall and stands guard over her.

“Sara!” Moira’s frantic voice shouts from the entrance. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of here!" Chris follows and pulls out a dagger as three hounds rush towards them.

The alpha throws his head back and howls. His melodic baying reverberates against the cliffs. The deep moaning shudders through her body and when the rest of the pack continues the chorus an encompassing dread engulfs her. Their notes, a mix between a low growl and wail, repeat and never alter. Chris thrusts his blade into a hound beside him; its lifeless body topples into the dust. But the rest continue their melody unfazed by their lost comrade or the rattling of the mountains surrounding them.

The surrounding rocks quake; spraying sand over her head. An echoing cracking cuts the air as parts of the mountain breaks free. It thunders as it crashes below. Somewhere in the madness Moira hollers; shoving Chris aside as the mountain buries her under a pile of stone. The noise hammers her ears, she feels it in her chest. Through it all, she crawls through the dust clouds; narrowly avoiding the debris. The baying pounds her temples and tears roll down her face granting some relief from the pain. Her knees and elbows sting as she searches for Eclipse in the chaos. She pauses at two black paws; her fingers reach for safety but stops when a blob of drool plops on her hand.

“Get over here twerp,” teeth clamp on her dress sliding her across the dirt. “Come on kid, no chance of winning if you are laying on your belly.”

“But Eclipse, we gotta go!”

“Stay close,” he positions her between him and the mountain wall.

His warmth, like the night of the fire, soothes her and she wraps her arms around his neck listening to his steady heartbeat. As his breathing slows, a deep soft purr vibrates against her body. In some ways he’s just like a larger house cat but then a whisper in the back of her mind reveals otherwise. Like a haunting echo from the ancient past, it speaks of the power surrounding her. Its name tingles her lips and teases her tongue. It begs to be named; to be realised. Like a snake, slippery and dangerous, it slides from her mouth: magic. The ruby mark on his forehead shimmers, growing into an incandescent red light. It soars upwards; cutting the dusty atmosphere before forming a ceiling above them.

Tumbling boulders shatter against the light wall before cascading over the ground beside them. His magic grips her body, filling it with peace and grants her freedom from fear. Never had she experienced anything like it. The howling tapers and the avalanche slows, but the light remains, keeping the animals at bay. In the silence a breeze prickles her skin, but Eclipse’s gaze turns to Moira, who’s buried under the debris. Chris digs through the rockpile as three hounds circle him. They jump but slide off the pile. The breeze shifts to a cold wind that whips her hair.

The howling wind jostles the gravel absorbed into the rockpile; a rattle then a shuddering reverberates throughout the heap. Stones shooting from the pile smash every surface. The quivering boulders signal Chris to flee; he lands in the sand as the pile bursts apart, spinning and whirling in the powerful cyclone. Moira, a tangled mess of ripped clothes and hair, steadies herself in the whirlwind’s center; her arms outstretched from her sides with her palms to the sky.

The hounds’ whimpering floats over the wind; they dig their stained claws into the ground but they can’t fight the pull from the cyclone. She stretches her arms upwards, ascending into the air, taking the rocks with her. They spin and collide with each other as the hurricane's howl echoes through the mountains. She flips her palms outwards; silencing the pandemonium. Her puppets hang suspended above their heads. She pushes her arms to the front of her body, breaking the hold on the stones, sending them flying towards their mark. Yelps and the snapping of bones erupt as the survivors flee. When the dust settles, all Sara sees is the broken bloody bodies and the disarray of rocks. The cyclone diminishes into a light breeze, delicately placing Moira on the ground. She stands, giving a tired smile before falling backward into the rubble.

“Are you alright?” Chris supports her weight as he helps her to her feet.

“My ankle,” she winces, clutching her sides.

“Moira!” her voice cracks and thick tears blurs her vision. The fear and adrenaline courses through her limbs, as she races to her friend’s side. “Why are you here? How did you know?” she sobs, “I’m sorry for everything.”

“This isn’t your fault,” she hugs her tightly, “It’s mine. But it’s over now, and you can go home.”

“No, you don’t get it. I can’t go back without the berries. But I can’t find them. And the map is gone!”

“Those berries,” Eclipse answers, “are not in season yet. I doubt you will find any growing here.”

“You mean she sent me here with those wolves on purpose?” He slouches and refuses to look her in the eyes. “You’re wrong!” she cries, it’s ridiculous. Her aunt isn’t the best but she wouldn’t… would she? She turns to Moira again, “my aunt says you’re a princess now.”

“Yes, my father is the king.”

“Why didn’t you want to see your dad? Is he mean?”

“He isn’t mean, we just disagree on certain opinions.”

“Does he do this?” She pushes her sleeve over her shoulder, revealing her aunt’s handprint size bruise on her arm.

“No, he hasn’t.”

“Neither did mine.” Her parents always made her feel loved. Her aunt doesn’t. “What happens now?”

“You are returning home with us, where you belong,” he licks her cheek.

“I would really like that.” she wipes her tears on her arm, “Eclipse…can you get Charcoal back? She took him away; she said I had to give him up.”

“We will reclaim what is yours, do not fret little one.”