The sound of her laughter echoes in my ears long after it’s done. Her laugh is magical, like the soft tinkling of musical tubes chiming with a blowing breeze. It is as beautiful as she is.

We use the sled to increase our travel speed, stopping on each dune until I find tracks then riding it down the side and as far up the next as it will carry us. With each new dune, Inga scoots closer to me until at last she is pressing against me tightly.

When she first pressed herself against my wings and back my hearts skipped, and my breath caught in my throat. She rested her face between my shoulder blades and if I could have frozen time, I would have.

The suns are sliding towards setting now and we’ve still not found our friends. No matter how much pleasure there is in having Inga with me, I can’t shake my concern for their wellbeing.

“There’s still no signs of them,” Inga says, as if reading my thoughts.

“I know.”

Closing my second set of lenses, I crouch and stare at the tracks before us. If I was Ragnar or Melchior, the tracks would tell me a story. I’m not, but how many times have I watched them? Recalling the actions I’ve seen them do, I mimic it to the best of my ability, touching the faint tracks with two fingers.

Interesting. The tracks are not deep. A soft, warm breeze is blowing, pushing the loose sand. What does that tell me? Frowning, I contemplate over what they would make of this.

“Anything?” Inga asks.

“I’m not sure,” I say honestly. Mimicking another motion, I put two fingers in my mouth and moisten them, then hold them up to the wind. “The wind is not strong but it is steady. Wouldn’t that mean the tracks would be covered over if they were very old?”

“That makes sense,” Inga agrees.

Surprised, I look over. Unaware I’d spoken aloud, I didn’t expect her to answer. Does she think me a fool? No, the look on her face is obviously not that, if anything I might say she has a look of admiration. A smile forms on my face unbidden.

“Right,” I nod, not so much in reassurance or agreement but in acknowledgement to myself that I can do this.

Okay, what next? What would Ragnar do? He sniffs the tracks. Why? No clue, but he’s done it so many times I’m certain it’s the next action he would do so I get close and sniff. Sand comes up my nose causing me to sneeze. Inga snorts, suppressing a laugh the best she can.

“What was that?” she asks and my scales warm with embarrassment.

“I’ve seen Ragnar do it,” I say, shaking my head, unable to meet her eyes. “But I don’t know why.”

“Oh,” she says, no longer laughing. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” I ask, looking up.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” she says. “It was funny is all. You’re doing amazing, look, we’re still alive right?”

My scales warm for an entirely different reason. “Yes, I suppose we are.”

Sniffing, still trying to get the sand from my nostrils, I sneeze again and Inga grins broadly. “Maybe you should ask him, when we see him again, about why he does that?” she suggests.

“I will,” I say, feeling a resolve and courage I’ve never had and deciding that I will do that very thing.

“So, are we on track?” she asks, placing a hand on my shoulder.

All my attention is drawn to her touch. My mouth dries and thoughts flee like sismis before a sandstorm. I turn to face her slowly, swallowing hard as I try to force moisture back to my mouth.

"Yes," I nod, feeling like I'm moving in slow motion.

"Good," she smiles and my hearts leap back into my throat.

Rising to my feet, I return her smile. My lips tingle. I want to kiss her but that is too much. I won't push her but instead I will bask in the moment we have here together.

"We should go, this way," I say pointing off to one side. "The tracks point in that direction."

I speak with certainty and confidence, not because I am, but because she inspires such in me. It's a beautiful, strange feeling that I welcome.

"Okay."

Shockingly she takes my hand in hers and together we walk.

My heart soars, I'm walking in the clouds with my head held high. There is nothing in the world that could bring me down! I'm powerful and in control.

As we head down the dune and start to climb the next one, the sand shifts beneath our feet and I sense the slightest vibration. I have an instant to wonder what's happening before the world explodes.

Sand fills the air in a dark cloud, blocking sight. My inner lids close, protecting me from the worst of it but I hear Inga scream as her hand is ripped out of my grip.

"INGA!" I roar, fighting through the blinding sand to try and find her.

I stumble forward but the sand is sliding and I lose my footing, slamming to the ground and hitting my skull. Stars explode in my head dispersing rational thought.

Inga. I have to save Inga. Fear courses through my veins, a cold, creeping chill attempting to paralyze me but I am a Zmaj! A male! Fear will not rule me, my female is in danger.

"Samil!" she cries, her voice giving me a direction to move towards.

Opening my wings wide, I use them to help regain my feet then work my way through the sand-cloud towards where I think I heard her.

Something roars, so loud it makes my ears ring with the aftereffect. It's close, too close. Running ahead, I clear the cloud of sand swirling in the air and emerge into the bright suns of Tajss.

Inga is a dozen yards away from me, lying on her back and crawling across the sand backwards. When she sees me her eyes widen and she screams a wordless, high-pitched sound. She points behind me but the fear in her eyes grips my attention.

Time stops. Particles of sand hang in the air, she doesn't move, nothing happens. Something inside of me snaps at the sight of her terror. Nothing, absolutely nothing, that makes Inga have a look like that will survive.

Wrath. An inferno in my core rages as I turn to see what she's pointing at.

A chatteron.

Its massive, feline head and long neck are sticking part way out of the cloud of sand.

Time returns, flowing faster as if it’s trying to make up for the earlier pause in its orderly progression. The chatteron's massive jaw opens, revealing rows and rows of sharp teeth ready for its next meal and its reptilian tongue flicks out. The beast roars and shakes it’s shaggy maned head.

The stench of rotted meat passes over me as the creature’s breath hits me with a force of its own. Stumbling backwards, fear tries to stake its claim on me.

Run, some part of me screams and my body starts to respond. This is for the other males. They can handle this without my help. Before I can turn fully around, I catch sight of Inga out of the corner of my eye.

Water runs down her face, her normally pale skin is paler still, her eyes are wide and her lips are trembling.

I must protect her.

Gripping the lochaber I've been carrying since we woke up alone, I turn to face the monster, planting my feet. My tail raises straight behind me as I spread my wings wide.

"Here!" I yell, pulling its attention.

Black eyes lock on me and the way its mouth moves is almost as if its grinning in derision that I would even try to stand against it. Fear toys with me once more and that primal instinct to flee races out of the black fog of the bijass.

Inga is counting on me. I cannot.

"Run!" I yell, hoping she'll know I mean her.

I'm going to die but not before I save her. Hopefully she will think kind thoughts of me, but one way or another, I will not let this monster get to her. No matter the price.

The chatteron rears its long head back then whips towards me so fast it's a blur. It's swifter than I expected. It hits me in the chest with the top of its head. Pain explodes through my body, blinding me with an overwhelm of sensation.

I'm flying backwards, tumbling through the air out of control. Struggling through the pain, I open my wings trying to regain my balance. Air catches them and I stop tumbling but then I crash to the ground and land in a heap.

No time. Can't breathe. But there isn't time to wait for my body to recover. As soon as I look up, the thing is stomping on bird-like legs towards us. I'm behind Inga now and she's lying still, apparently paralyzed in fear.

The chatteron closes with her and any moment it will snap her up and nothing else will matter.

"NO!" I scream, leaping to my feet and running.

Taking the lochaber in both hands, I hold it in front of myself, bracing the butt of it against my body as I charge. Bounding across the sand I run straight into it.

The point of the lochaber slides across its tough hide. I don’t skewer it like I'd hoped, but I do slice my way through its protective fur and there's at least a bit of blood.

The thing roars again, in pain or surprise, or maybe annoyance I don't know or care. I've drawn blood. I can do this!

Then it hits me with a clawed leg and I'm flying to the side again.

I can't stop it this time and hit the ground rolling. Everything hurts. Staring up at the double suns I curse and every fiber of my body wants to lie here until the pain stops but Inga is in danger.

Digging deeper into myself than I ever have, I push myself off the ground and alight on my feet. The chatteron is turning towards Inga, its massive mane flowing in the breeze. Sunlight glistens off its razor-sharp teeth.

I’m frozen, paralyzed with fear of losing her. Something snaps in my head with an audible sound. A thrilling rush races through my body, my hearts pound fast, while my breathe comes easy.

“HERE!” I yell at the chatteron, pulling its attention back.

It turns and bares its hundreds of teeth. I bare my own, daring it with a roar. It pauses and in that instant I see fear in its eyes. A fire burns in my heart unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. My nerves jangle with excitement and I know, with no doubts, that this battle is mine.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Inga, climbing to her feet, her eyes wide with fear but also something more. Admiration shines in her face. She is seeing a male worthy of her. Realizing that powers me and I rush the chatteron.

Only as I run towards it, the distance between us closing fast, does it hit me like a lightning strike that I’m empty-handed.

Panic rises but there’s no time for it, the beast and I are on each other. Its long, sinewy neck rears back and its thin, sharp-taloned feet rise and claw at me. Dodging the attack, I keep running, passing under its raised foreleg then slip out to the right, away from Inga.

Turning into it, I grab the leathery-gray skin of its raised leg, barely able to get a grip but I manage it somehow. Jerking myself up, I use my wings furiously to gain lift. Stretching my left arm out, I get a handful of the mane and then climb the rest of the way onto its back.

It goes insane!

I’m thrown up and down, slamming against its back with crushing force. Something in my chest snaps and my left shoulder pops loudly, though I hear it mostly in my head, the thing is roaring and mewling so loud.

The pain is blinding. All I see is red with white stars that overlay everything. I keep my grip on the mane with one hand, flopping around as I desperately try to get a grip with my other hand.

Slam!

My right hip pops and I’m thrown up again.

Blam!

I grab the mane with my other hand but it jumps up and turns a circle before I can tighten my grip enough to hold it and my hand slips free while I fly up with its motion.

Smack!

My head hits hard into its skull and it cries out in pain and so do I. My grip slips on the mane. I’m going to lose it.

“SAMIL!” Inga screams.

The fire in my heart and belly flares with renewed life. Inga! Must. Save. Inga!

Tightening my grip, I manage to keep a hold as it bucks and turns again. It’s trying to snap at me, turning its head to either side but I’m between its shoulders and it can’t reach as I roll side to side. It jumps again with a spin. I’m lifted up into the air but this time I grab on with my free hand and pull myself down to its back.

Yes!

Hope blossoms like the opening of a cvet. Hand over hand I crawl across its head, pulling myself forward until I’m behind the swell of its skull. I wrap my legs around its neck, ignoring the shooting pain and protests of my body. Rising, I shift my grip in its mane and pull hard.

Below and to the left is Inga so I jerk its mane hard to the right. It responds, turning in that direction. Slamming my calves against, it I try to will it into motion. The beast doesn’t move, standing in place and snapping its massive jaws, making a loud clacking sound.

“Move!” I bellow, pulling harder on its mane and slamming my tail against it.

It moves! Slowly, but it gathers speed until its almost at a run heading away from Inga. As it gathers speed, I climb onto my knees, bent low over its head as the wind blows past us faster. It leaps forward, extending the full length of its body as it does so and now it’s in a full, galloping run.

Leaping into the air, I let the momentum carry me up to an apex then open my wings and ride the currents back to the ground. When I land, though it’s lightly and controlled unlike before, my right hip tries to give way. I catch myself before I collapse but just barely.

Resting my hands on my thighs, I try to breathe through the pounding of my hearts, letting the moment sink in. I did it!

Exhilaration, pain and exhaustion war for my attention when suddenly Inga throws herself into me and we stumble backwards together.

“That was amazing!” she exclaims.

She’s pressed against me, her softness smashing into my chest, her delicate arms around my neck, her lush full lips so close we could kiss with barely a motion. My body responds, instantly and unbidden, I’m erect, raging desire demanding satisfaction.

She must be aware of it as acutely as I am, it’s there between us, crushed by her body. Her eyes widen, her lips tremble, and the rest of my body stiffens. Embarrassment fills me but does nothing to ease the pressure between my legs.

She bites her lower lip, her eyelids drop to half, is she going to kiss me? Is this how this goes? What do I do now? Do I return the hug? Do I touch her? Is now the moment to tell her I love her? What would Sverre do? How do I not screw this up?

She steps back but her fingers linger as they pass from my shoulders, up my neck, and across my face. She smiles, demurely, then her eyes drop from mine.

Damn it! What did I do wrong? I should have acted. Wrapped my arms around her, pulled her tight and kissed her sweet, delicate lips that I’m certain will taste of an exotic fruit.

No! I did the right thing. A male doesn’t force himself on a woman and she’s made it clear she doesn’t want that.

Argh, I don’t know.

“Are you hurt?” she asks.

As if on cue, the pain returns taking away all the questioning and uncertainty. My hip flares and my left arm is numb and barely responding.

“I think I’m—” I start to say fine but then my hip gives out and I drop to my knees. “Hurt,” I admit, losing all the ground of being a mighty male that I’ve gained. Cursing my weakness, I struggle to rise but my hip won’t hold my weight and I collapse again.

“Stop!” she cries out, kneeling beside me. “You’ll hurt yourself worse.”

“Sorry,” I mutter, shaking my head.

Frustration, pain, and disappointment make an overwhelming storm of emotions causing my throat to swell shut. Fog swirls in my head, clouding my vision as if offering release from the pain and embarrassment. A warmth that will wash it all away if only I give in to it.

Inga places her hands on my face, forcing me to look at her. Her sharp green eyes are deep pools, flashing with a fierceness I’ve not seen before. Moisture forms in the corners and her lips tremble. My hearts stop. Breath catches in my tight throat. I’m going to implode, unable to withstand the depths of emotions that rage within.

“You are so incredibly brave,” she says. “Let me help you, please.”

My hearts pound in double time, making up for their pause, so hard it hurts almost as bad as my injuries. Our faces are barely an inch apart. There’s a gravity holding us together, but separate. Any move closer will break the moment but I don’t want it to end. Her soft hands on my face, her warm, sweet breath drifting across my scales.

Brave.

Me.

She called me brave.

If I’m to die, let it be now, in this single perfect moment.