"Run again," Gredudande said through the dog's mouth.
Jiang stayed between it and Tomas.
The boy had obeyed Rosa as far as the loading door. He stood there with one hand on the frame, staring at the dog that had spoken in a stranger's voice.
"Inside," Rosa told him.
"But what about the penguin?"
"Has more sense than both of us. Move."
Tomas backed through the door. Rosa remained beside the van with her metal scoop in one hand and a crate lid in the other. She had heard Gredudande speak. Fear tightened her grip, but it had not taken her legs.
The dog's head turned toward her.
It shifted left, blocking Jiang's path to the utility hatch while keeping Tomas behind him. Gredudande had learned from the fountain. It was no longer chasing the fastest route to Jiang. It was choosing which person he would turn back for.
"Your mother will call again," it said.
Jiang's beak clenched on empty air.
The phone was dead in the fountain. His mother would call the office, then the police, then every hospital in Manhattan. Gredudande wanted him thinking about that while teeth closed around his neck.
He looked beneath the van.
The stolen sardine lay just past the rear tire.
His hunger cramped again. The cold water from the fountain had soaked through his outer feathers near the injured flipper, and a shiver ran down that side. Eat, find cover, keep Tomas alive. The order mattered.
Jiang angled toward the hatch, and the dog matched him step for step. He reversed toward Rosa. The dog crossed its front paws before correcting.
Gredudande steered an animal that still had weight, joints, blind spots, and shoulders too broad for the gap under the van.
"Good," Gredudande said. "You learn."
Jiang turned his back on the hatch and ran under the van.
The dog lunged after him. Its skull struck the bumper with a heavy clang. Shoulders jammed beneath the chassis while its front paws clawed for Jiang's feet.
Jiang reached the sardine, caught it head-first, and swallowed.
The fish went down whole. Cold flesh slid through his throat, salty and rich, followed by a burst of warmth from his belly that made him want three more. There had been no chewing, no polite distance between animal and meal. His human mind objected to breakfast having eyes. The penguin body considered the matter closed.
Blue text appeared beneath the van.
[Energy Restored: Heat Failure Delayed]
The System gave no estimate for how long and left his flipper damaged. Food kept his body burning. Every torn or bruised part stayed his problem.
Gredudande tore one shoulder free. Its claws scraped sparks from the pavement.
Beyond the dog's reaching paws, Rosa's rubber boots waited on the other side. When Jiang barked and struck the handcart wheel with his beak, she followed his gaze to the trapped dog. Her hands tightened around the cart handle, but the axle would pass over Jiang before it reached Gredudande.
"You had better be as smart as you look," she said.
Jiang chose not to tell her how low that bar was. He pressed his breast flat to the pavement and tucked both feet beneath him.
She kicked the wheel lock loose and shoved.
The loaded cart rolled across the rear of the van. Jiang flattened himself against the ground. Its axle passed over him with feathers to spare. The front wheel struck the dog's ribs and drove it sideways into a stack of empty crates.
Plastic burst across the lane.
Jiang shot out behind the cart.
"Move now!" Rosa shouted.
He ran for the hatch.
The lane was only a lane to Rosa. Jiang saw a field of bad footing: fish scales, broken crate slats, loops of hose, and a curb waiting to catch his short legs. His injured flipper pulled his balance left.
Penguin Reflexes tugged at his body, offering speed without instructions. The System had named the ability after the ice slide; it had not supplied a manual for corners.
The first sharp turn nearly rolled him. A human would have twisted at the waist. Jiang had no useful waist to twist. He planted his outside foot and threw the good flipper wide, swinging his rigid torso around the crate instead of into it.
That turn worked better.
He cut around a hose loop. Left foot, right foot, good flipper open. His belly skimmed a wet patch and gave him another burst. On dry ground he waddled; over water, ice, or slime, he could turn that ridiculous body into speed. The ugly motion became a sequence he could control.
Behind him, crates scattered.
Gredudande's dog came free with a strip of fur missing from its side. Rosa met it with the crate lid. Teeth struck plastic. She drove forward, using the lid like a shield, but the dog outweighed the choice she had made.
"Rosa!" Tomas called from inside.
Jiang reached the utility hatch.
The cover leaned against an orange cone. A ladder descended into a brick shaft wet with runoff. The opening fit his body, just as he had guessed. The first rung waited far below his feet.
He could jump. His injured flipper warned him what landing badly would cost.
Rosa's shoes slid behind him.
Jiang stopped and turned.
The dog had forced the crate lid down. Rosa knelt with both hands on its rim while the dog's jaws snapped above it. Tomas moved toward the loading door.
"Stay inside!" Rosa shouted.
Jiang left the hatch. The choice hurt before the dog reached him: every extra stride shook his flipper, and the warmth from the sardine was already fading along his wet side.
He crossed the lane with his good flipper spread and drove his beak into the dog's rear paw. It twisted toward him. Rosa ripped the lid free and struck its nose.
"Go," she told Jiang. "We are even."
They were not. He had stolen her fish, frightened her nephew, and brought a talking dead thing to breakfast. Arguing required a human mouth.
Jiang ran for the hatch again with Rosa beside him. After he passed, she overturned an empty crate across the opening and left a gap low enough for him to slip under.
"Down there," she said. "I call people. People with nets."
Jiang shook his head so hard his beak swept the cone.
"Fine. No nets. People with guns?"
He barked his answer again.
"You are difficult to rescue."
The dog hit the crate from behind. Plastic jumped between them.
Jiang backed to the shaft. He lowered his tail over the edge and hooked his beak around the nearest ladder rail. Webbed feet searched below him, useful for swimming and terrible at feeling for a narrow rung. The good flipper pressed the opposite brick for balance; the injured one stayed against his body.
His foot found the rung.
Then the dog smashed through the crate.
Rosa jumped away. Gredudande lunged over the broken plastic and caught Jiang's tail feathers between its teeth.
Pain yanked his body upward. His beak slipped on the rail. Several feathers tore free with a hot pull along his back.
Jiang kicked behind him. One webbed foot struck the dog's nose, and the jaws opened.
He released the ladder on purpose.
The brick shaft dropped around him. Jiang spread both flippers by reflex, which slowed his spin but stabbed pain through the left joint. He struck a sloped pipe belly-first and slid rather than fell the rest of the way.
Runoff carried him into a storm tunnel.
He landed in shallow water, rolled once, and came up on his feet. His torn tail burned. The injured flipper hung lower. Above, the dog's head shoved through the hatch while Rosa hammered its snout with the metal scoop.
"Go!" she shouted down.
Something silver dropped past Gredudande's jaw.
It was another sardine.
Rosa had thrown it into the shaft.
The fish struck the runoff and drifted toward Jiang. He waded after it, warmth and gratitude making one dangerous knot in his chest.
"Breakfast is not free!" Rosa called. "Come back and pay me when you grow hands!"
Jiang barked up at her.
The dog snapped at the sound. Rosa's scoop rang against its teeth.
The hatch cover began to move overhead as Jiang caught the sardine by its tail. Ripples spread around his feet, and one pointed nose rose from the water. Then another followed.
The rats were large enough to look him in the eye.