The Gift

Chapter 39

Whit

I CURSE under my breath and turn to assess. Sure enough, two soldiers and three large German shepherds have crested the last rise in the hill and are charging up the path toward us.

Only, wait-did I say two soldiers and three German shepherds? Because it's actually one soldier and four German shepherds-or, wait, it's all German shepherds -

"Did you see that?" demands Wisty. "They're turning themselves into dogs! Very fast dogs."

"Great," I say, and stop running.

"Why are you stopping?" yells Wisty.

"There's no point. I can't outrun a pack of magical dogs with you on my back. It's simple physics. I'd have to be a horse."

"Well, I've turned myself into a rodent before. Maybe you can turn yourself into a horse. Aim big, Brother. We don't have much of a choice right now."

"I don't know any horse spells -"

"Look in your journal and pray that it's getting good reception today!"

I'm flipping the pages madly, and nothing about a horse catches my eye. It's the first time in my life I actually wish I could look in an index.

There's no index, of course, but what I stumble on is even better: Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire?

After I recite the weird poem, the next thing I know I'm on all fours, with black-and-orange-and-white fur, my clothes split up and down and hanging in tatters.

So I turn to ask Wisty the obvious question: "Rrrrrrooaaarrr?"

"You're asking if a tiger can kick a bunch of dogs' butts, right?" asks Wisty. "I think so. But let's not experiment if we don't have to, especially with me on your back. Yah, tiger, mush!"

And then she digs her heels into my flanks. I yelp, and I take off up the hill-as a tiger. Ain't magic great?

The dogs howl in rage behind us, and then there's another noise-another sort of roar? I look back over my striped shoulder and see that our pursuers are now turning themselves into bears, grizzlies actually, as they continue after us.

Who are these guys? And where are they getting their magic?

The answer, unfortunately, reveals itself all too quickly.

We reach the clearing at the crest of the hill and are greeted by a tall bald man in an impeccable dark blue suit. He's standing there as if he's been waiting for us all his life.