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ASHER WASN’T ONE TO forget or let something go. He pestered me about going to the human world again the next afternoon, and the next, and the next. “I’ll tell the others we’re busy,” he said when I protested that they’d try to come. “They know you like me.” He winked, and I blushed before I could stop it. “I’ll tell them I feel the same way, and we need some time alone.”
Since my father worked late, I eventually gave in on the fourth day. “If I try this, do you swear you’ll leave me alone afterward? Stop pestering me to try new things constantly?”
“Of course,” Asher agreed immediately, settling back into the wobbly chair with a grin.
I snorted. We both knew that was an empty promise.
He started rambling about the details of how I might attempt this particular shift, but I was too distracted to listen. Under the guise of needing more tea, I stood and moved to the stove, heating up more water, keeping my back to him.
The idea of changing Asher’s form instead of my own was daunting. What if I wasn’t capable?
On the other hand, what if I could learn, but only with a mentor to teach me all the things that would otherwise be impossible to figure out on my own?
I dragged myself out of the dark thoughts long enough to say goodnight to Asher as he left. He gave me a distracted kiss on the cheek and said, “Don’t change your mind now, Bel, okay? I’ll see you at the daleth tomorrow.”
As I closed the door behind him, I couldn’t ignore it anymore. My biggest fear, that I’d pushed to the back of my mind ever since he’d asked me to try, forced its way to the surface. What if I can change him, but then I can’t change him back?
Still, it was Asher’s choice. He can imagine the danger just as well as I can.
We met early the next afternoon and made our way through the daleth to the human side, to the clearing where we’d stood a few days prior.
Unlike last time, though, we were both quiet. Tense. No kissing or holding hands today, not with something this huge looming over us. Asher’s usual pale skin seemed stark white against his standard day armor and tunic, and his throat bobbed nervously.
“You can change your mind,” I offered. The first words we’d spoken since meeting.
He only shook his head. As if words were too much, and he might lose his nerve.
With a deep breath, I closed my eyes. I’d worried over how to do this for the last four days.
I’d decided to attempt a change that was similar to his current size.
A wolf.
Whether or not I needed to touch him was unclear. Pretending to be deep in thought, I imagined him shifting.
Nothing happened.
I hid my failure, though, feigning a new start, as I stepped up to him and took his hand.
Something about the contact told me instantly it would work this time.
He opened his mouth, probably to ask what was taking so long, but I’d already begun. Choking on whatever he’d been about to say, his eyes widened as his fingers transformed into a huge gray paw in my palm. His nose began to lengthen. Instinct made him lift a hand to his face, but instead of a hand he scratched his new gray muzzle with his other paw.
I tugged him down to the ground, keeping my hand on his hairy foreleg. This allowed him to stand on all fours while I finished the change down to the tail, making his clothes shift into nothing before they could rip, though I kept his red eyes the same.
In the span of a few short minutes, he’d metamorphosed into a powerful gray wolf.
Finished with the change, I let go.
As I’d expected, the change in him was as permanent as it always was in me; a living body would always hold a new form.
Part of me wanted to ask how he felt. Of course, that would be a waste of breath.
“Are you okay?” I whispered instead, as if anything louder might startle his animal nature.
Was he still himself, the way I was in animal form?
He dipped his big head in an exaggerated nod. A wolf-like grin appeared on his new face, tongue hanging out, sharp white fangs glinting in the light, ears up and relaxed as his red eyes danced.
With a soft growl that was almost a purr, he danced back, spun in a circle, and then without warning, took off.
“Wait!” I yelled, terrified that I’d been wrong. I’d thought for sure he was still Asher beneath the new façade, but now I wasn’t nearly as certain.
Already, I’d lost sight of him.
Branches tore and sticks crunched beneath his feet, growing softer as he put distance between us faster than I’d have thought possible.
I brought my hands to my mouth.
What have I done?
Long minutes passed.
I paced from one end of the clearing to the other.
He didn’t return.
I slowly moved toward the log where we’d sat so happily only a few days prior. My legs grew numb and unresponsive. I sank onto the rough bark.
This was it.
I’d be found out for sure now.
Mind racing, I frantically tried to think of what I could say to his parents. Maybe I could tell the Jinni Guard about the daleth. Say he’d gone through it but never came back.
They didn’t need to know the details. That would be enough. Would it though?
Time dragged by.
Asher still didn’t come back.
Shaking, I tried to stand, but I couldn’t find the willpower to leave yet.
I shut my eyes, trying to hold back tears.
This was all my fault.
I should’ve told him no.
So engrossed was I in my despair that I didn’t hear the soft, padding footsteps until they stopped in front of me and a warm furry head dropped onto my lap, poking a wet nose against my bare arm.
I screamed and fell backward off the log.
Asher—for, of course, the big gray wolf with impossible red eyes was Asher—yipped almost gleefully, jumping over the log and running a circle around me. His tongue lolled in a wolfish grin, as if my struggle to catch my breath was entertaining.
“How dare you run off like that?” I yelled at him, forgetting myself for a moment as the fading adrenaline made my muscles weak. I’d almost left him behind in the human world. My panic turned into guilt. “I’m changing you back right now!”
With a whine, he tucked his tail between his legs and backed away from me.
Clearly pleading for more time.
Standing with precise movements to cover my embarrassment over being startled so easily, I brushed the twigs and dirt off my skirt and legs before I deigned to answer him, trying to hide how breathless I still felt. “Fine.” I inhaled deeply and added, “But if you’re not back within the next ten minutes, I swear on all of Jinn and the human world on top of it that I’ll leave you in that form forever.”
He bounded away without another sound, long legs launching him across the clearing and out of sight once more.
This time I buried my rising apprehension beneath slow, measured breaths and began counting. I told myself I was only pacing out of boredom. My lungs felt tight, though, and I couldn’t seem to take in a full breath. This was too much responsibility. Like the first day he’d found out, I wished fervently that he’d never discovered my Gift and everything could go back to the way it used to be.
When he finally vaulted back over the log and into the clearing, panting hard, it was an effort to keep my spine straight and my face clear of emotion. I wouldn’t reveal myself so easily again.
“Come.” I motioned when he stepped out of reach.
What if I can’t change him back?
The old fears tried to raise their voices, but I clenched my hands into fists and ignored them. At this point, he deserved whatever end result he received.
Another quieter part of me somehow knew, though, and was not afraid at all. If I could do it once, it will work again.
Bending, I touched his furry shoulder and began the process of changing him once more, bringing back his original form—height, clothes, annoyingly persuasive voice, and all.
A gasp came from the forest behind me.
I spun to face the intruder.
Searching for a human, I was prepared to scare them into submission, but instead I froze at the familiar face.
Simon.