Dem continued drying the Tatzelwurm until its gold fur puffed up soft as down, the little creature purring in a deep, vibrating hum that ran through his arm. "I promised Ai she could name you," he murmured. "So we'll wait."
The kit's eyes remained closed as it sniffed Dem's face, then licked his cheek with a surprisingly rough tongue.
Buttercup pushed in next, snorting loudly as he sniffed at the newcomer.
The kit's paw lashed out—blind, uncoordinated, yet somehow perfect. Whap.
Buttercup yelped and backed up, deeply offended.
"Shh, none of that," Dem soothed, scratching the kit's head. "We're all friends here."
"It needs to eat," Agani observed as the kit gnawed at Dem's hand. "Would sheep milk work?"
"We'll try," Dem agreed. "Maybe add in a few eggs."
"I'll do it!" Yena announced, already running out of the tent.
Dem, left with the purring coil around his arm, dipped a finger in his flask of highberry and held it near the kit's nose. She sniffed it delicately, then stuck out her pink tongue—only to jerk back, offended.
Reowr.
Dem burst out laughing. "That's a no."
Half an hour later, Yena returned carrying a half-full bucket of warm sheep milk and two eggs clutched in her other hand. "Milk's fresh!"
She cracked both eggs straight into the bucket—sploosh—and stirred the mixture with a wooden spoon handed to her by Agani.
The kit's nose twitched. She burrowed her head into Yena's hair, sniffing loudly.
Yena laughed. "Is she okay to drink out of this?"
"Bit big," Dem said. He dipped a finger into the egg-milk mixture and touched it gently to the kit's pink nose.
Two tiny paws instantly grabbed his finger as she licked with enthusiasm. After a few rounds of that, Dem scooped a small pool into his palm and brought it to her.
The kit plunged in—and immediately sneezed milk across his arm.
"Come on, don't give up," Dem encouraged, amused.
She licked her paws, then tentatively returned her tongue to his palm. After a few thoughtful tastes, her lapping sped up, rhythmic and hungry.
"I'll get a small bowl," Agani said, slipping outside. She returned moments later with a dented ladle bowl. "Handle broke. I kept meaning to toss it."
Dem took it, filled it, and held it steady. The Tatzelwurm wrapped tighter around his forearm, placing both paws on the rim as she drank in slow, eager laps—her tiny body purring like a warm, living drum.
After eating her fill, the kit climbed—half slithered—up Dem's arm until it nestled against his neck, its serpentine body wrapped securely around his upper arm. It yawned once, tiny pink mouth stretching wide, then began to purr itself to sleep, both paws clinging possessively.
Yena sighed, scruffing Buttercup's head gently. "You'd better make friends before it decides you look tasty."
Buttercup whined, tilting his head in uncertain agreement.
A short while later, Dem headed to the Red Fox feast with Telo, Yena, and their parents. He reunited with the other members of the Sentry Force, seated in a place of honor as tribals began bringing out plates piled high with roasted meats, vegetables, and fruit. Telo cracked open the barrel of rum they'd confiscated from the Blue Bay before sinking her.
Once again, Dem became the center of attention, the tatzelwurm wrapped around his upper arm. Its soft gold fur drew hands like a beacon, pulling in the younger crowd to the Sentry area.
Telo offered it a strip of roast, and to no one's surprise, the creature chewed daintily, eyes still closed.
Dem dipped a finger into his glass of rum and held it up. The tatzelwurm's pink nose twitched with interest before it gave his finger a slow, deliberate lick.
Yena leaned closer, scratching under its chin. "How big will she get?"
"A few dozen feet, maybe," Dem guessed. "I'm taking her swimming tomorrow."
The feast went late into the night. Both the shaman and the Red Fox Clan Chief stopped by personally to thank them for rescuing the two lost children.
They were walking back toward the family tent when Yena finally asked the question she'd been avoiding. "When will you head back to the Swiftwind winter site?"
"I told everyone to be back at Swiftwind in two weeks," Dem said. "With travel here and everything else…" He did the math. "It's almost a week of steady riding. We should leave in three or four days."
"Three would be best," Telo said quickly.
Yena frowned at her brother.
The next morning at dawn, Dem and Telo walked the compound in search of barrels. They already had the empty rum barrel the clan had polished off the night before. By the time Uhric and Agani were breaking fast, nine barrels were stacked neatly beside the river.
The tatzelwurm woke during breakfast, her eyes now fully open—bright emerald green. Dem fed her the milk-and-egg mixture until she curled back around his arm and drifted off again.
Agani wrapped some cooked meat in cloth and handed it to Dem. "She's just a baby. With teeth like those, she'll need more than milk and egg."
A short while later, Dem and Telo rolled the barrels into the river, following them as they disappeared over the falls. This time, both of them climbed down—Dem taking care with the tatzelwurm still wrapped around his arm.
At the base, they lashed the barrels together, three across and three deep.
When the tatzelwurm sensed the water, she slipped free of Dem's arm without fear, swimming naturally and even diving beneath the surface. She gnawed curiously at the ropes, climbing over the barrels as if they belonged to her.
With the barrels in place, Dem and Telo dragged the raft over them and secured it with bindings. When they finished, the platform was noticeably more stable and sat a few feet above the water's surface. The tatzelwurm climbed up easily, uncoiling beneath the midmorning sun.
A few minutes later, Dem and Telo exchanged a look.
"No paddles," Dem said.
They shrugged at the oversight and slipped into the water, towing the raft by hand.
"At least I grabbed chains to tie it down," Telo said, kicking steadily while Dem pulled.
When they were above the underwater cave, Telo secured one end of the chain to the raft while Dem dove beneath the surface, anchoring it to a natural rock outcropping.
"Shall we?" Telo asked, barely containing his excitement.
Dem nodded, took a few measured breaths, and dove.
Moments later, Dem waded into the now-familiar chamber. As before, the instant his feet touched the marble tile, blue torches flared to life around the room, casting eerie light across the walls.
"Saints…" Telo breathed, eyes wide. "I knew you told me about it, but I wasn't expecting this."
Reowr.
The tatzelwurm had followed them. It slithered up Dem's body and settled on his shoulder, licking at its damp fur while purring contentedly.
Dem gestured toward the dais engraved with the fox sigil. "There."
"Should I step on it?" Telo asked.
"That's why you're here," Dem replied dryly.
Telo stepped onto the platform, holding his breath. After a long moment, he exhaled. "Shit. I was really hoping that door would—"
"Escadomai."
Telo vanished into a pile of clothes and reappeared as a red fox.
The instant his paws touched the dais, stone ground against stone. The hidden door slid aside with a low rumble.
The fox swished its tail and pranced into the newly revealed chamber, nose high. Dem followed, scooping up Telo's clothes as he went.
Yellow torches ignited one by one, much brighter than the blue ones. The room beyond was a vast marble dome, smooth blocks fitted with ancient precision. Aside from the torches, it was empty—save for a large circular map table at its center, carved in detailed relief.
Dem released Telo's beastkin form and stared. "Look at this." He pointed. "The bay. The falls. The winter site."
Telo dressed quickly and leaned over the table. "And here's Swiftwind… which means these must be Frostridge and Whitehill."
Within minutes, they identified markings on all nine wintering sites.
Dem frowned slightly. "So it's a map room. Why hide it underwater?"
"It looked different when I was in fox form," Telo said slowly. "There were images on the floor and walls. They vanished when I shifted back."
Dem carefully unwound the tatzelwurm from his arm and shifted.
Reowr.
The tatzelwurm purred and rubbed against the sleek black rat, suddenly eager to play.
Dem swatted it gently aside and hopped onto the map table. "The map is labeled."
Telo leaned closer. "I don't see any labels."
"Not words," Dem corrected. "Symbols. A fox head here… and eight more, one for each clan."
"What's Swiftwind?" Telo asked.
Dem located the site. "Pine marten. That's the Swiftwind shaman's beastkin."
Telo straightened. "You think there's another one of these rooms there?"
"Maybe," Dem said. "Something to investigate when we're not on Sentry business."
The tatzelwurm pounced at Rat-Dem—or tried to. He sidestepped easily and gave it a gentle swat, the creature tumbling harmlessly, purring playfully.