Zephyr Ashwright woke in wet leaves with one name in his head: the rabbit. He had promised to meet his best friend by the pond at dawn. Now the sun sat high, his green force field flickered around him, and the friend was gone. Half elf, half machine, Zephyr flexed his big metal arm and pushed off the ground. He could fly. He could bend fire. But none of that helped him find a small creature in a forest he did not remember entering. He rose above the trees and scanned the ground. Below, a bunny with a jet pack shot between the trunks, laser eyes cutting a bright line through the shade. Zephyr's chest lifted. "There you are!" he called, and dove. But the bunny was not alone. A red fox raced beside it, green eyes glowing, its body sleek and fast. And crashing behind them both came a blue pig the size of a wagon, red eyes burning, huge arms tearing roots from the dirt. The pig was chasing them. Zephyr flew hard and cut between the pig and his friend. He threw his metal arm forward and pushed a wall of fire from his palm. The flames roared. The pig skidded, squealed, and swung one thick arm through the blaze. The blow smashed Zephyr sideways into a tree. His force field cracked green and held, barely. He got up fast. The bunny darted to his shoulder and pressed against his neck. The fox circled Zephyr's legs, teeth bared at the pig. They were both his, he understood now. Both friends. Both scared. "Go," Zephyr told them. "To the pond. Water. Now." The bunny understood. It fired its jet pack and streaked away, the fox running below. The pig charged after them, and Zephyr flew above it, dropping fire to slow each step. He drove the pig toward the water. At the pond's edge the fox turned, planted its feet, and the pig plowed straight into the shallows. It thrashed, blinded by spray, and the fight went out of it. Zephyr landed between his friends, breathing hard. He had found them. Both of them, alive. Then a shape rose from the trees on the far bank. A short cloaked figure watched them, one arm huge and tipped with claws, a scar splitting his bald head. His red eyes matched the pig's exactly. He raised the clawed hand, and the pig turned and lumbered back to his side, obedient. "Nice trick with the fire," Malachus Grimclaw said. His voice was flat and quiet. "The animals were mine. You just made them yours." He looked at the bunny on Zephyr's shoulder. "So now you're mine too." Zephyr's force field brightened. He had come to find his friends. He had found them. But he had also found the one who wanted to take them back.

Zephyr stood between Malachus and the pond. The bunny gripped his shoulder. The fox pressed low against his leg, green eyes locked on the cloaked man. "They're not yours," Zephyr said. "Not anymore." Malachus raised his clawed arm. The blue pig snorted and charged. Its huge arms tore the ground. Zephyr threw fire, but the pig plowed through the flames and slammed him. His force field cracked. He hit the dirt hard, breath gone. The pig reared over him. Then something dropped from the sky. A metal boy landed on the pig's back. He was Zephyr's size, half machine like him, brown hair wild. Where one hand should be, a long silver sword glowed. The kid drove the blade down. Blue sparks flew. The pig screamed and bucked, throwing the boy off. He flipped in the air and landed light on his feet. "You bend fire," the boy said, glancing at Zephyr. "I cut. Together's better." Zephyr scrambled up. "Who are you?" "Later." The kid pointed his sword at the pig. "Left side. Go." Zephyr flew low and hurled fire at the pig's face. It flinched and swung wide. The Aero Blade Kid darted under the arm and slashed. The fox lunged too, snapping at the pig's leg. The bunny fired its jet pack and streaked past the pig's eyes, blinding it with laser light. The pig staggered. It stumbled toward the water again, confused. Malachus's claws twitched. He was losing control of it. Zephyr saw his chance. He pulled both hands back and pushed the biggest wall of fire he could make. The flames roared into the pig's chest. It squealed, spun, and crashed into the pond. Water sprayed high. The beast went limp in the shallows, done fighting. Malachus lowered his arm. His red eyes moved from the pig to the metal boy to Zephyr. "Two of you now," he said. His voice stayed flat and quiet. "Doesn't change the count." "It changes this," Zephyr said. "You lost." Malachus looked at the fox and bunny beside Zephyr. "For today." He turned. His cloak dragged over the roots. "I don't forget what's mine." Then he stepped into the trees and was gone. The forest went quiet. Zephyr dropped to one knee, shaking. The bunny nuzzled his neck. The fox licked his hand. He had kept them safe. Both of them. The metal boy walked over. His sword dimmed to gray steel. "He controls animals," the kid said. "That pig wasn't wild. It was a puppet." "You knew that," Zephyr said. "I've been tracking him. He takes things. People. Creatures." The boy studied Zephyr. "You beat his pig. He won't let that stand. He'll come back with worse." Zephyr looked at the trees where Malachus had vanished. His force field flickered green. He had won the fight. But he had also made a real enemy, one who now knew exactly what he could do.

The forest was quiet, but Zephyr couldn't stop shaking. The metal boy's words stuck in him. Malachus would come back with something worse. And Zephyr had nowhere to hide the bunny and fox until then. The bunny huddled against his neck. The fox pressed close to his leg, ears flat. "We need cover," the metal boy said. He wiped his sword clean on his knee. "Somewhere he can't reach them fast." He looked at Zephyr. "I know a cave past the pond. Old, dry. He doesn't hunt there." Zephyr nodded. "Then that's where we go." They moved fast. Zephyr flew low, one hand cupped around the bunny. The fox ran under him, green eyes glowing, quick as a shadow. The metal boy jogged ahead, sword pointed forward. Twice he stopped and held up his hand. Twice they waited, breath held, until the forest stayed empty. The cave opened low in a mossy bank. Zephyr set the bunny down inside. It sniffed the walls, then thumped its foot, satisfied. The fox slipped in and curled by the entrance, watching the trees. "This works," Zephyr said. His shoulders dropped. "They're safe now." The metal boy didn't answer. He was staring past the cave mouth, at the far bank of the pond. A baby elephant stood in the reeds. It had a strange long neck, gentle eyes, and only three legs. It leaned on a rock to stay up. When it saw them, it made a small, scared sound. "That's not Malachus's," the metal boy said quietly. "Look at the leg. That's a curse wound. Same kind I've seen before." Zephyr walked toward the calf. It flinched, then let him near. Its stump was smooth, like the leg had never been there. "Someone did this on purpose," he said. "Someone with a lot of power." The metal boy's jaw tightened. "Not the man you fought today. Worse." Zephyr looked back at the cave. The bunny watched from the dark. The fox hadn't moved from the entrance. He had a safe place now. He had kept his friends alive. But the calf couldn't walk, couldn't run, couldn't hide. "I can't leave it out here," Zephyr said. The metal boy studied him. "If you help it, whoever cursed it might notice you. You'd be pulling two enemies your way, not one." Zephyr knelt by the calf. It rested its long neck on his shoulder, trembling. He thought of the bunny and the fox, how he'd fought a whole pig to keep them. This was the same feeling. "I'm not choosing which ones to save," Zephyr said. He stood and helped the calf limp toward the cave. "They all come with us." The metal boy sighed, but he moved to the calf's other side and steadied it. "Then we'd better learn who did this," he said, "before they come looking for you."