Jeremiah Stonepeak had chased the fire-breathing bear his whole life. He first saw it as a boy, when it burned a path through the trees behind his father's cabin. Now he crouched behind a fallen trunk and watched it drink from a stream. Smoke curled from its jaws. His only tools were his bare hands and a knife older than he was. Both were useless against a beast this size. Any move now would get him killed, and he knew it. So he did nothing. He watched. The bear lifted its head, sniffed the air, and swung toward his hiding place. Jeremiah pressed flat against the wet bark. His heart slammed. He could not fight this thing. He could not even hold it. He needed something bigger, and he needed help. He backed away slow and quiet. Then he ran for the old trainer's camp two ridges over. Aldric Longbeard was the one man who might know how to catch such a creature. Jeremiah had heard the stories since childhood. A trainer whose beard hung past his belt, who had tamed animals no one else dared touch. Jeremiah found him mending a strap outside his tent, the great beard swept over one shoulder to keep it from his work. "I found it," Jeremiah said, breathing hard. "The fire bear. It's at the stream below the tall trees." Aldric did not look up. "Men who find that bear usually don't come back to say so." "My hands aren't enough. My knife isn't enough. I need what you've got." The old man studied him. He set down the strap. "You've wanted this a long time." "Since I was a boy." Aldric grunted. He rose and dragged a heavy bundle from behind the tent. It was an iron net, woven from thick chains, so large two men could barely lift it. "This drops from above," he said. "You bait the ground. It comes to feed. Then we cut the line and let the weight do the work." He jabbed a finger at Jeremiah's chest. "You climb. You wait. You don't breathe wrong." They hauled the net into the towering trees above the stream. Jeremiah lashed it to a high branch and strung the release line down the trunk. Aldric laid a dead deer in the clearing below. Then they waited in the leaves while the light faded. The bear came at dusk. It swung its huge head, snorted flame, and stepped toward the meat. Jeremiah's hands shook on the line. He waited until the beast stood dead center. Then he pulled. The net crashed down. Chains snapped tight. The bear roared and thrashed, and a burst of fire lit the whole clearing. The iron held. The creature that had haunted his mountain since childhood lay pinned to the ground. Jeremiah dropped from the tree, grinning. Then Aldric spoke behind him, low and grim. "You caught it," he said. "Now you have to keep it. And that net won't hold for long."

The bear roared under the iron net, and the mountain answered. Jeremiah heard the first wolves before he saw them. Yellow eyes slid between the trees. A big cat crouched on a rock above the stream, tail twitching. The bear's cries had called every hungry thing on the slope. Aldric grabbed his arm. "They smell weakness," the trainer said. "They'll take the bear while it can't fight. And us with it." Jeremiah drew his old knife. Against a full pack, it looked like a toothpick. "We can't hold this many." Aldric was already moving. He dropped to his heavy pack and tore it open. Inside sat a squat metal thing, all barrels and orange plating, heavier than any gun Jeremiah had seen. The trainer heaved it up and braced it against his hip. His long beard swung across the barrels. "Cover your ears, mountain man." He fired. The barrels spun and thundered. Dirt kicked up in a wall between them and the wolves. The pack scattered, yelping, back into the dark. The big cat sprang. Aldric swung the weapon and the noise drove it sideways off the rock. It landed, hissed, and fled. In ten seconds the clearing was empty of everything but them and the pinned bear. Jeremiah's ears rang. "You carried that the whole time." "I carry what the job needs." Aldric lowered the gun. Smoke leaked from the barrels. "But noise only buys minutes. They'll circle back. And that net's already loosening." He pointed. The bear had worked one paw half free. Chains groaned. "We move it now or we lose it." Jeremiah looked up the slope to the broken towers above the trees. The old fortress. Cold stone, thick walls, a gate that still stood. His home for years. "Up there. Stone walls it can't burn through." They wrapped the net's rings around a fallen log and dragged. The bear fought every foot. Fire spat from its jaws and scorched the grass. Twice the wolves crept back, and twice Aldric turned and let the gun roar until they broke. The climb took an hour. Jeremiah's hands bled on the chains. They hauled the beast through the fortress gate. Inside stood a stone chamber with one door, its hinges rusted but whole. They dragged the bear in, net and all. Jeremiah threw his weight against the heavy door. Aldric shoved beside him. The door slammed shut. Jeremiah dropped a rusted iron bar across it. Behind the wood, the bear crashed against stone. Fire flickered under the door and died against rock. The walls held. Jeremiah slid down against the door, breathing hard. He had it. The beast that burned his mountain since he was a boy sat caged in his own home. He almost laughed. Then a chain snapped inside. Loud. Sharp. Aldric met his eyes. "The net's done," the trainer said. "Now it's just you, and stone, and a bear that wants out."