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The lion cub heard the boy’s cry and quickened her pace. He needed her, but this long narrow cave was so twisty and the smells were so tangled up, she couldn’t find him.

She reached a place where the cave split in two, and halted. Which way?

As she snuffed the air, the falcon swept past and perched on a ledge. The lion cub flicked the bird an irritable look, which the falcon ignored.

Shaking out her wings, the bird lifted off again and disappeared around the bend. Ah. Maybe that way. The cub followed on silent pads.

Her hackles rose. The bad human crouched behind a ledge a few pounces away, shooting a long flying fang into the cave below. The lion cub smelled his blood-hunger. She sensed the boy’s pain and fear wafting up from the cave. Soundlessly, she gathered herself for the spring.

Intent on the hunt, the bad human reached behind him for another flying fang. He didn’t know she was there.

The cub sprang. With a howl, the bad human dropped a bunch of flying fangs, which went clattering over the ledge. He was weak, but squirmier than she expected. She tried to bite his throat, but got his shoulder instead; it was surprisingly tough and tasted of ox-hide. Now he was scratching her muzzle with his forepaws and jamming his knee in her belly. For a tail flick her grip loosened. He twisted from under her and lashed out with a big shiny claw. The cub dodged, but again he lashed out, just missing her eye.

Snarling, she backed away. Snarling, the bad human lurched to his feet. Suddenly, two more bad humans came running to his aid. The lion cub turned tail and fled.

As she ran, she glanced down at the cave and saw the boy. He was limping but alive; she felt grimly satisfied. Those long flying fangs couldn’t hurt him now.

The cries of the bad humans faded behind her, and she slowed to a trot. She smelled bats and blood, but she’d lost the boy’s scent.

The falcon glided past and perched on a ledge, as if waiting for her to catch up. The cub ignored her—then relented, and acknowledged the bird with a flick of one ear.

Again the falcon flew past, and again waited for the cub to catch up. They reached the end of the long cave, and for the first time, bird and lion cub exchanged glances rather than glares. Then they went their separate ways: the cub to find the boy, and the falcon to seek the girl.

The lion cub felt that this was good. It was how things should be. Maybe the falcon had her uses after all.