Poets and authors throughout history have indulged themselves to an uncountable length, describing how one’s life flashes before their eyes in the lead up to the moment of death. With less than ten feet between me and several thousand pounds of furry, dagger-toothed death brightly illuminated by my pistol’s Surefire flashlight, I saw none of that.

  All I saw was death, and honestly, after how things had gone so far, I wasn’t the least bit surprised at the latest twist in my luck. That said, I was entirely and completely done. Done with things trying to kill me, done with today, done with tomorrow, and probably done with next week, too. Just fucking done with it all. It would attack the moment I started shooting and I had absolutely zero questions about how that would go. I’d watched it rip a half dozen armored riders and their horses to sausage in less than thirty seconds. I knew I wouldn’t last more than three.

  Breathing in, I accepted what was about to happen as I aimed for a beady eye. As an afterthought, my finger tightened on the trigger. “Well, fuck me, right?”

  Abruptly, the skyferret froze and its fearful expression evaporated as it blinked and rotated its head like a curious dog. Thanks to a friend from high school who’d had ferrets, I knew the sound that quietly and hesitantly followed was the plus-sized version of what my friend called a dook, but the rising lilt to it was nothing I’d heard before. Nearest guess, it wasn’t pissed off anymore, it was puzzled.

  Now, I’d expected a quick death. I’d minutely hoped I could at least shoot it in the face and maybe mortally wound it while it tore me limb from limb. Instead, I got twenty feet of intensely curious flying mammalian predator and not a single portion of me, lizard brain or monkey brain, had even the slightest shred of an idea what the hell to do.

  “So, uhm,” I started to say, which elicited a series of excited noises as it sat back rather quickly. “If you don’t mind—” I jerked a thumb toward the steps up. “I was looking for a friend.”

  The beast slinked toward me, eyes locked on my own, and then cautiously extended a paw, a single finger really, toward my chest. The moment the claw made contact, the critter jerked back with a rapid-fire series of dooks and spun around on itself excitedly until the spin ended with a little pounce that saw it landing like a playful puppy facing me.

  Not quite sure how to interpret this other than maybe the critter was happy for some reason, I let my pistol sink to the floor and pointed to the stairs. “Can I go up there?”

  Once again, it slinked forward to stop just outside arms reach and extended a paw, but this time it gently grabbed my hand, leaned forward, and used my hand to pat itself on the head. A chittering purr followed.

  FRIEND?

  I squinted, not quite sure if I’d heard the word with my ears or if it’d simply beamed directly into my skull. “Are you asking if I’m your friend?”

  The beast’s head bobbed up and down like a goddamn paintshaker.

  If someone asks if you’re a god, Ray, say YES! “I mean, we just met, but I don’t see why we can’t be?”

  FRIEND!

  A veritable cacophony of happy chirps, dooks, and something that vaguely resembled breathless laughter filled space as the skyferret spun about in a tight circle. Suddenly air pushed me back as the skyferret darted past me, up the stairs, and the ceiling rattled as it continued its happy dash around the top of the tower. Before I could do more than boggle at what I was witnessing, it came speeding back down the stairs, darting back into the corner it’d just left and plopped its ass down with a great thump while still vibrating with apparent glee.

  Now thoroughly confused, I muttered, “If I had to guess, you were someone’s pet at some point.”

  The thing’s head bobbed up and down and then suddenly slowed as the thing squinted and got this forlorn look on its face.

  MISS. MASTER. MISS. FRIENDS.

  Just as quickly, its head shot up, once again vibrating with joy.

  NEW. FRIEND. HAPPY. NOW.

  I couldn’t help it. Even though the thing was big enough to crush me by simply rolling over me and its mouth was big enough to swallow my head in one go, it was adorable in the most weirdly innocent yet utterly murderous way. I rubbed the top of its furry head and started off toward the steps.

  WHERE? GOING?

  “Me and a friend got attacked by something in the water. I’m trying to find him,” I answered on my way up.

  MORE? FRIEND?

  I chuckled and reached for a pair of binoculars that weren’t there because they were in my pack. Goddamnit. “He might be scared of you, but I bet Tomas could be your friend, too.”

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  FRIEND! A mighty scrabbling echoed up from below and the skyferret erupted out of the gap with the speed of a more adorable trapdoor spider and then froze. Surprise on its face, the skyferret’s attention darted this way and that. SKYSHROUD. GONE. SKY. CLEAR.

  “Skyshroud? You mean the fog?”

  The critter cocked its head to the side and gestured to the slowly roiling fog in the distance. FOG?

  I nodded and it perked up and chittered.

  FOG! NEW. THINKWORDS! HELP. FRIEND. FIND. FRIEND.

  Frowning, I scanned the absolutely barren expanse around us while grumbling, “This would be easier if I hadn’t left my bag at the bottom.”

  BAG? WAIT.

  Without slowing, the skyferret dashed over the side of the tower.

  Huh. I cautiously leaned over the edge, barely catching sight of it as it sprinted around the tower in a dizzyingly fast spiral and disappeared from view. “Jesus, something that big should not be able to move that fast.”

  As I straightened up, the sound of claw against stone echoed up behind me from the tower interior. Before I managed to finish turning around, the skyferret popped up out of the stairwell, my bag in its mouth.

  FOUND. BAG. FRIEND. TAKE. It dipped its head and let the pack slip out. Other than a few spots that looked a little damp, the backpack didn’t look any worse for wear. I spared a second to provide thanks via well-received head pets before retrieving my binoculars.

  WHAT? THAT?

  “They’re called binoculars. They help me see farther,” I answered as I lifted them to my eyes. Within moments, I could feel the creature’s breath against the left side of my neck as it quietly panted. Quietly, for it. Something that big, quiet was relative. I glanced over my shoulder to find it perched just a few feet back staring at me.

  On a lark, I held the binoculars up, somewhat in front of it. It froze and then squinted before bolting up straight and cocking its head at the horizon. With a loud chirp, its eyes darted to me and its head bobbed rapidly. FARSEER!

  “Yeah,” I said and turned my attention back toward the river. “Sorry, I need to look for Tomas.”

  TOMAS? FRIEND?

  I nodded, scanning the area we’d tried crossing. Every inch I’d trod upon stood out against the surroundings, each footstep and drag mark appearing slightly darker than the surface dirt. Shit. Literally anything could easily track us if it wanted to. Taking some small consolation that fact that would make finding Tomas easier, I pushed my worry aside and quickly scanned the banks of the river.

  WATER. MEANIES. TAKE. FRIEND?

  “Yeah, they grabbed him.”

  A deep, rumbling growl erupted behind me, stopping my heart in a vice of sudden, instinctual fear. I half-stumbled as the air pushed me aside when the skyferret blurred past me. It took me a second to realize it had simply just jumped instead of flying, but by the time that sunk in it had nearly reached the crossing.

  The skyferret skidded to a halt, sniffled at the ground here and there and bounced around a few times. It repeated the process a few more times before suddenly spinning around in a circle and instantly launching itself directly at the river. Despite knowing the thing damn well could fly, my breath caught in my throat the moment it should have landed in the water, but then it simply didn’t. Instead, it skimmed just inches above the surface all the way to the far side where it landed and began probing the far side with its nose the same way it had the area I’d crawled from of the river.

  A half-formed memory bubbled up and I suddenly felt much better knowing that ferrets were scent hunters. If Tomas had made it out of the river, it could track him. Hell, it might be able to track him even if he got close to the edge.

  I turned my attention to the river’s edges and spent the next minute following them through the binoculars to the edge of the fog before sighing. “Fuck, Tomas, where’d you go?”

  It was all so fast. He just fucking vanished without a sound. I frowned and glanced back to where the skyferret had paused on the far side, clearly scenting the air. Did I fuck up? Should I have done something different?

  The moment I noticed Tomas had vanished, I assumed something had attacked him. It was really the only reasonable conclusion. It’s not like Tomas could do something like teleport. From there, the only possibility to take him out that silently would’ve had to come from the water, which was quickly proven out. Sound from an airborne assault would’ve stood out over the running water. Though, maybe not. The skyferret is pretty quiet. The ultrasonic served quite well as an area denial tool against whatever that was. It looked like a mermaid, but didn’t Tomas call them water sprites?

  Thanks to the complete lack of ground cover due to the fog killing literally all plant life, both banks were quite visible for several hundred yards from where I crawled out. Though, I didn’t know it at the time, any tracks would’ve been visible, but I didn’t see anything that stood out. From there, really the best choice was to get to the top of the tower on the off chance he’d surfaced farther away, around the bend upriver. But—

  I sighed. No, if I’d done anything wrong, it was taking too long to get up here, but it’s not like I could’ve known the tower was a bullshit jumping puzzle from the outside. I turned my binoculars to the south, toward the upriver bend, just as the skyferret drifted that way. Is it getting slower? A quick once-over showed no disturbed earth that the skyferret didn’t kick up itself. Fuck, Tomas, where’d they take you?

  Clenching my jaw, I lowered myself to sit against the outer wall and resisted the urge to chuck my binoculars at my pack. Not that I was remotely okay with what just happened; I certainly wasn’t, but I also knew I couldn’t repair or replace any of my gear like I could on deployment and it wasn’t like I had spares either.

  “Goddamnit Tomas,” I muttered to myself and thumped the back of my skull against the stone. “We got this far. How the fuck am I going to tell Rowan?”

  My stomach growled angrily. I glanced over at my pack and loosed a long, unhappy sigh. Tomas had been carrying most of our camping equipment, not just the tent, but the two small pots, too. While I was digging through my pack, the skyferret came ambling up the stairs far more sedately than it ever had been.

  “You okay?” I asked it as it curled up a few feet away.

  VERY. TIRED. HUNGRY. ALSO. SAD. NOT. FIND. TOMAS. FRIEND.

  “There’s that horse leg downstairs. Do you want me to get it for you?”

  NEED. NOTMEAT.

  I squinted at the critter who’d managed to make a remarkably cat-like donut. “Notmeat? What’s wrong with the horse?”

  MEAT. FEEDS. STOMACH. NOT. MIND. The skyferret shifted and settled in. MIND. FLIES. NOT. STOMACH.