I dig my fingers into Hyathorn’s yellow fur, hir side heaving with every panting breath. Above us, concealed by the heavy clouds, the wyvern shrieks again, the pitch of its cry heightening and lowering as it passes. Hyathorn snarls around hir lolling tongue and shakes hir feathery wings.

“Steady,” I whisper, giving hir a pat with one hand and tightening my grip on my sword with the other. Winged hounds have been used in battle historically, true. I’ve ridden them before myself. But Hyathorn is the family pet, all fluff and play; ze has no armor or training. That didn’t keep hir from leaping at the wyvern when it first swooped down into the yard. It won’t keep hir safe from claws or fangs. But I have no way of telling hir this, nor do I want to face the wyvern alone. I wouldn’t stand a chance, just me on the ground and it in the air. I could tell Hyathorn to flee, and ze would take me with hir, but the children in the house mere feet behind us - my brother’s kids - are counting on me.

The wyvern calls again. I track the sound across the sky with my eyes and hoist myself onto Hyathorn’s back, balancing my sword against my shoulder and wishing for a proper saddle.

A patch of cloud darkens as something moves through it, and I can just make out the shape of the wyvern’s bat-like wings and snakelike body before it rushes into view, diving straight towards me, revealing all the teeth in its scaled head with another battle cry.

“Go!” I shout. Hyathorn bounds forward, and just before it seems we will meet the wyvern at the end of its dive, ze extends hir wings and leaps into the air, right over the wyvern’s head. The wyvern snaps at Hyathorn’s feet, barely missing hir toes. I slash downward with my sword, just managing to nick the top of the wyvern’s head, leaving a scratch in its scales. It isn’t much of a wound, but the winged reptile screams all the same, turning its attention away from the house. I watch over my shoulder as Hyathorn and I climb higher into the air. The wyvern swoops around in a wide curve to pursue us. Every beat of its massive wings ruffles my hair and Hyathorn’s fur, and as we enter the clouds, that same breeze disperses what I had hoped would be our cover.

“Keep flying, Hyathorn,” I urge hir. “Higher!”

Hyathorn’s breathing is heavy, but ze keeps up hir pace, gaining altitude with trembling feathers. The house shrinks beneath us to the size of a toy - though the wyvern remains the same size, keeping pace behind us - and I have to wonder if Hyathorn has ever flown this high before. Hopefully ze has enough adrenaline to do it. I know I do; my teeth are chattering with how jittery I am. But I don’t have wings. I need to count on Hyathorn’s. Ze has to be faster than the wyvern.

“Higher!” I say again, but I’m drowned out by the wyvern’s cry. I look up, wiping sweat out of my eyes with my sleeve, and then down again. It’s gaining on us. We’re not faster.

It’ll have to be enough. I adjust my grip on my sword and clamp my knees more tightly around Hyathorn’s sides.

“Turn, Hya! Turn!” I tug on Hyathorn’s fur, and ze obeys. “Now, dive! Do it!”

And, bless hir, ze listens. My brother’s big, goofy fluff ball of a winged hound folds zir wings, points zir nose downward, and plummets straight towards the wyvern. The cold air tugs at my face and world below begins to grow as we dive, and the wyvern opens its toothy maw to meet us -

- and I strike out in front of Hyathorn, plunging my sword straight into the wyvern’s mouth. Its teeth slice into my arm, and in the same instant, my own blade slices through the roof of its mouth, puncturing its brain. My pained scream mingles with its agonized wail, and I lose my grip on the sword as it falls away from me, its wings spasming, trying and failing to flap again. Hyathorn howls, spreading hir wings and slowing our descent. I clutch my shredded arm to my chest, the spreading redness turning the fur on Hyathorn’s back a dark orange-brown, and focus on keeping my balance. The wyvern falls, falls, and falls, finally crashing in the middle of the old stone road and lying still.