Ironhide Thornpaw's Arc

Chapter 3 of 3

Ironhide stared up at the closing seam. His jammer had hidden him for weeks. Now the dead squirrel's last chirp had marked him. The thing above could watch every move he made. He felt it like a light on his back. There was no more sneaking. Only running, and choosing where to run. A hammer struck metal below the bridge. He climbed down toward the sound. In a hollow between two roots, an ape worked at a fallen panel of hull. He was tall, thick-armed, and swung a stone hammer with care. Bits of wire lay sorted around his feet. He looked up at Ironhide without fear and went back to his work. "You build things," Ironhide said. "I need a new jammer. Mine's useless now." The ape shook his head. He pointed at the sky, then drew a flat line with his hand. No signal would hide him again. They knew his shape. Ironhide's jaw tightened. Then the ape pointed at the seam, still narrowing, and mimed something fast rising up. A voice came from the shadows. "He's right. Hiding is done." A wolf stepped out. He stood upright, gray-furred, in a dented breastplate over torn cloth. His yellow eyes were sunken. He moved like each step cost him. Ironhide had heard the crash days ago, the trees breaking for miles. This was the thing that fell. "Fenris," the wolf said. "I came through a seam. Wrong one. I need the next one open." He looked at the sky. "So do you, by the smell of that machine." "You can't reach it," Ironhide said. "It's too high." "Alone, no." Fenris pointed past the roots. "There's a beast in the far ridge. Winged. Fire in its tail. It flies to the top of the trees." He paired the fact with a flat one. "It doesn't like company." Ironhide understood. The observer could see him. So he would stop hiding and move faster than watching could catch. He would ride up instead of climb. They found the dragon on a bare crag. It was orange, huge, and its tail burned like a torch. It hissed when Ironhide stepped near. Fenris circled wide. The ape banged his hammer on stone, a steady beat that pulled the dragon's eyes. Ironhide charged. The dragon lunged, jaws wide. He drove his armored shoulder into its neck and pinned it against the rock. Fire scorched his plating. He held. The beast thrashed, then went still under his weight, breathing hard, watching him now with a different look. "It won't kill you," Fenris said. "It'll carry you. That's not the same as friendly." Ironhide climbed onto the dragon's back. Fenris and the ape pulled up behind him. The wings snapped open. The crag dropped away. The seam above still shrank. But now Ironhide rose toward it, out in the open, watched and no longer caring. His hunt had a road at last, and it pointed straight up.