“See! I knew I could do it.”

The ground trembled and I almost fell face-first into my efforts. I didn’t want to look up at the volcano. I didn’t want to feel the trembling continue on and on and know I had to leave, but I couldn’t avoid it. Boiling lava was now being thrown high into the air in great thick clumps, like Cook’s morning oatmeal boiling over.

A familiar hooting sound, but louder and urgent. I spun round as Farthing emerged from the hole. I grinned and ran over to her, but something wasn’t right. Her scales on one side were blackened and a patch was missing entirely.

I crouched and held out my hand to her. “Farthing, you’re hurt! What happened?”

She ducked back into the gap that led to the lava tube and the cave.

“Let’s go back to the mud and put some of it on that wound,” I said as I followed her.

The lizard waited in the cave and her hoot turned into a growl. Then she ran into the darkness of the tunnel, toward the center of the island.

Toward the volcano.

I waited. Farthing would come back; she was injured, it didn’t—

Another hoot and she reappeared out of the shadows. This time she rose up on her hind legs, ruff flattened against her neck, and her hoot was more of a howl, a desperate sound. The hairs rose on my arms.

“What is it, Farthing?”

She darted away but was back within seconds and whine-growling. She pawed the ground.

I shook my head, raising my hands. “I know you want me to follow you again, but the volcano …”

The lizard darted forward, grasped the ragged bottom of my breeches, and tugged.

“Hey!”

My trousers were slipping; I’d become thin on a diet of prickly pear. Farthing wouldn’t let go; she hauled and jerked, and now that she was closer, I could get a good look at her injuries. The black patch on her side looked like crusted ash, and the skin below it was raw, shiny and bubbling. I’d seen an injury a little like that when Cook had spilled oil on his wrist. Farthing had been scalded. It was like a punch to my chest to see it.

This lizard had survived the dragon fire, yet now she was burned. I looked closer. Was the wound from … lava? Had she been to the erupting volcano?

“Let go, Farthing, please. I don’t understand—”

She gave a hard yank, growling, and a piece of fabric tore free. I fell on my back and Farthing sprang onto my chest.

My face was only an inch from her snout. Her copper eyes bored into mine; her claws needled at my ribs. She arched her neck back and her howling whine would have put a wolf to shame.

Something was seriously wrong. Farthing had saved me from the centipede. She’d fed me, found me shelter from the dragon, and rescued me from bull sea lions. She might only be a small lizard, but if she needed help, I couldn’t deny her.