Laura kneaded bread dough on Kyan’s huge counters.

It was neat to wave a hand and bring out an appliance, then wave her hand again and make it disappear. Infinite counter space plus infinite appliances was an oxymoron, but it had become her dream.

On the cabinets above her, icy flakes swirled over the glacier.

Kyan had shown her how to make the walls into screens that projected different views so she could create the appearance of a window on an inside wall. And the view was so real she could only tell it was a screen when she squinted at a corner.

The trip to the Idaho warehouse yesterday had been pretty boring and Kyan hadn’t gotten too much new information, but afterward, he’d acquiesced to all her wishes. Her housemates had been relieved. She’d cleared her absence with the school and the hospital. Bob had been especially understanding, agreeing to extend her clinical after the cultist threat had been removed.

Paying her rent and bills on unpaid emergency leave were problems she’d worry about another day.

Laura thumped the dough on the floured counter, pulled a towel out of a drawer, and rested it over the lump.

Kyan was at his office now. He’d had to go to a daily business meeting, but he was coming straight home as soon as he was done. He would never abandon her again.

Little sparkles of happiness filled her chest. She hugged her elbows.

Last night, they’d cuddled until morning. When was the last time she’d felt so rested? He, on the other hand, had looked like he might not have slept.

Well, he needed to get used to sleeping with another person. Waking beside her. Opening his heart and letting her in.

When he got home from his meeting, she’d show him how nice that could be.

A low thud reverberated through the fortress.

She rested her palms on the counter.

A second thud made a slight but unmistakable tremor.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

What was that?

It sounded like it was coming from above and toward the glacier side of the fortress. She started for that side to look out the window before she remembered the fortress didn’t have any windows and she could control the view from the kitchen cabinets. She skipped back into the kitchen and reviewed the possible gallery, turning the “window” into a wall of screens like in Kyan’s black ops room.

Overhead, a smoking gold object hurtled toward the fortress.

A jet? No wings. Ooh. Maybe that was why it was going down.

It crashed into the camera and the picture disappeared. A loud screech set her fillings on edge. The smoking jet plummeted off the fortress tower.

Huge cannons emerged from the fortress walls and fired lasers. Each fired with a deep, resonant thud.

The jet belched black smoke.

It glanced off the nearest peak, spun, and skidded across an icy plain. Snow mounded over it, embedding it in a cave. It skidded to a stop.

Lasers strafed the ice, reflecting off.

Everything became silent again.

Dark smoke boiled from the wrecked jet in its ice cocoon. Snow on her fake window turned a grayish-black.

Huh.

Wasn’t this fortress supposed to be secret? Kyan had said she was safe. Certainly, no ordinary person would be able to trek to this location.

What if it was a misunderstanding? Alaskan bush planes weren’t usually gold, but it had already been hit a couple times before she saw it.

Oh!

What if the pilot survived? And needed her help?

She washed her hands, dried them on the towel, and patted her pockets.

What was she waiting for? Permission?

She dressed for braving the glacier, collected her supplies, and then had to be honest.

Kyan didn’t have much in the way of medical supplies. She’d thoroughly tossed his whole lair on the first day looking for something to do, and she’d gone over it a second time, even more carefully, when trying to make her escape.

Were a few adhesive bandages and ointment really going to do a plane crash survivor any good?

But … oh, hey! She hadn’t explored his black ops room.

She ran to the door and poised for the light to flash her eyes. He’d reprogrammed his controls to allow her access to the whole fortress. Running up the stairs took much longer than floating up in Kyan’s arms, but she was sweating and shivering, with burning thighs and calves, when she finally reached his tactical tower room.

Inside she found…

Nothing useful. No medical supplies and no medkit, which was just as well. She didn’t know how to use one.

But she did know how to use the jet pack.

Do not fly around here. The winds are dangerous.

Okay, so the winds were dangerous. What about the anti-aircraft laser cannons?

Plenty of birds and wildlife moved past the lasers without a problem. She should be fine.

Should be…

She put Kyan’s spare trench coat over her parka and cinched on the jet pack. Here were the controls. She was not going to be dumb and forget to take her finger off the ascend button like last time. That had been as stupid as rolling her car into her neighbor’s trash cans.

The jet pack silently lifted her.

The trench coat bunched, and she slid through, a puppy being carried in her mother’s mouth.

She descended, tightened her straps, and tried again.

Better.

Floating out of the tactical room, she hovered on the landing and stared up at the exit.

What was she doing?

She was crazy. This was a bad idea. Someone was going to get hurt.

But maybe someone was already hurt. Helpless and alone. Waiting for help.

Help only she could give.

Laura gripped the controller.

Don’t second-guess. Don’t hesitate.

Lives might be at stake.

She pressed the ascend button.

Rising, she approached the trap door. It opened automatically. The sun shone brilliantly in the cloudless, freezing sky. Icy winds whipped across the slot.

She pushed into an invisible hurricane.

Howling winds dragged her across the fortress in the same route as the downed jet, whipped her back and forth, and beat her with her own clothes. Icy fingers tore at her goggles.

But she didn’t turn back.

The laser cannons remained silent. Thank goodness.

The jet pack did a great job of keeping her upright when the winds tried to grip her ankles and flip her over and over.

Laura descended toward the wreckage. The wind shook her like a monster and tried to tear the controls out of her hand.

Uh oh. Was she going to pass it by?

Trying to reverse direction, she pushed into the wind.

And stood still.

The wind refused her like pushing into a wall. Ice particles serrated her cloth-covered face.

Hmm. With winds this aggressive, how was she ever going to get back?

Laura talked herself through her problems.

In the worst case, she had Kyan’s tracker. When he got home, he’d see she wasn’t inside the fortress. He was stronger than the wind. She’d shelter in the wreck until he arrived.

The wreckage loomed below.

She gripped the controls too hard and fell the last twenty feet, smashing into the ice-coated rock. The impact jarred her body and snapped her teeth. Her left ankle collapsed. She crashed.

Ow.

Of all the ridiculous mistakes. How could she help anyone if she got herself hurt? So stupid.

With the wind howling overhead, she rolled over and rubbed her ankle through the thick winter boot. It throbbed hotly.

The bone felt unbroken. A sprain? No, the pain receded to a dull ache.

She hauled herself carefully to her feet and tried a couple of test steps. No urge to limp. Good. But she wouldn’t clear herself until she peeled off the boots and performed a visual inspection. Preferably with x-rays. There still might be a hairline fracture.

What would the Peace Corps say?

She staggered through the glacial winds to the smoking wreckage.

Black smoke erupted from the back. A hole gaped in the middle of the aircraft. Around the hole, the skin peeled back to expose massive, foot-thick walls of lead.

How did it fly?

She clambered inside.

Foreign lights glimmered on every surface. All bare. The metal itself gleamed like Kyan’s alien medkits.

Oh.

Was this a spaceship?

She shook off the melting snow — it was warmer inside — and made her way to the cockpit.

The blunt nose stopped at a blank wall.

Right, because if it was an alien spaceship like Kyan’s fortress, the windows could be on any wall.

She moved through what was shaping up to be a hollow, tubular shuttle. The inside was pretty open. No chairs. Unlike on Earth, these aliens weren’t sitting around all day like truckers in space.

Making her way to the opposite end, she clambered over a concrete lump in the middle of the floor.

The rear of the shuttle, if she’d identified the ship correctly, crunched in.

Nobody could have survived.

Huh. Maybe there were no survivors. Or maybe it had been unmanned.

A wasted trip. Ugh. She’d worry and inconvenience Kyan for no reason.

When was she going to learn—

Behind her, someone moaned.

She whirled.

The ship … was empty.

Another moan drew her toward the gaping hole.

Where was it coming from? She stopped and listened. Howling wind, eerie silence… Her boots thumped the concrete. Step, step, squish.

Squish?

She looked down.

Fingers! They stuck out of the concrete lump. What could it mean?

The lump moaned.

Oh!

She rapped the base of her Maglite on the gray concrete. “Hello?”

A muffled noise echoed inside. The lump sounded hollow like an egg. She rapped harder. The metal flashlight cracked the concrete.

She tore into the structure. Kyan’s gloves were more functional than her usual fluffy women’s mittens and she was able to grip and make real progress. Gray plaster walls broke into chunks and she cleared them away to unearth a pale, heavily bruised male in a plain gray uniform.

A survivor!

He squinted up at her. Blood streaked his face and dried under his nostrils. He said something in a language she didn’t understand.

Ha ha! He was alive. Despite the meager supplies and howling winds, she promised to get him back to Kyan’s fortress and keep him that way.

“It’s okay now,” she said. “Relief is here.”

His brows cleared. A hopeful smile tugged at his bruised cheeks.

Then he winced and moaned. “Arms … shoulders…”

“Hold on.” She finished breaking him free. Both shoulders were dislocated and his gray flight suit was too thin for the weather conditions, putting him at risk for hypothermia.

“How did this happen?” she asked, trying to check him carefully for any other injuries.

“Weapons,” he said. “You surprised.”

“Me too. I had no idea those were there. You’re a dragon, right? Can you float?”

He elevated a few inches, grimacing. “Enough?”

“That’s enough.” She eased him to his side and walked her fingers over each vertebra. No cracks or crunches. Good. “And I’m so sorry it blew a hole in your ship.”

“That was I.” He sweated, shaking and pale. Internal bleeding or shock? Hopefully the latter. “I grip the edges of the door to time my escape. But a gun, boom! I hold on. Ouch.”

So he’d blown his own airlock. Being a dragon, he wouldn’t need to pull a parachute. And his story was consistent with a double dislocation if he’d wrenched both arms at once.

“And then?”

“I fall inside and the gray squirt.” He made a noise of being covered in plaster.

The dragon version of an airbag? Hmm. It didn’t sound like internal injuries.

“Are you on your own here?”

“Someone will come. After the mission.”

“How long?”

He shook his head, winced, and stilled.

So, possibly not very soon.

She rolled him onto his back again.

Unfortunately, talking hadn’t distracted him enough to relax his shoulder muscles. The balls wanted to go back into their joints but would need extra guidance.

“Let’s try relocating your shoulders,” she said. “Once the muscles relax, they should pop back into place. Then you’re going to want to ice and rest in a sling. Both shoulders. Okay?”

“I understand.”

A sudden blinding light seared them.

“Close eyes!” the male shouted, clenching his lids tight as he disappeared into the light.

She did so as well.

The light wasn’t hot, just bright. Like the sun had crashed onto the ice and bathed them in a harmless reflection.

It faded.

She blinked and rubbed her eyes. Orange and blue spots chased each other across her vision. Another thing she’d have to deal with, like her sore ankle, while transferring the pilot back to the safety of Kyan’s fortress.

A second later, Kyan’s fortress exploded.