David should have gone straight back to the house he and Ceridwen were renting by the river, but he couldn’t make himself do it. He walked along the High Street instead, looking in the windows of shops that were shut for the day while the sky grew steadily darker.
It was Storm.
The stormhound – the great, slavering monster his aunt was so worried about. Storm. How hadn’t he realized straight away? That uneasy prickling that seemed to fill his whole body when Storm was around. He’d put it down to his natural unease around dogs. And then there’d been the way the puppy was always looking at him as if it understood every word he said. But David hadn’t been looking for a stormhound then, and he’d wanted Jessie to like him, and . . .
No, he should have known. David shuddered, remembering the sight of Storm’s shadow spread monstrously large on the pavement, and the hound’s voice rumbling through his mind like thunder.
He couldn’t hide from the fact any longer, no matter how he wished it wasn’t true. The stormhound was Storm.
What was he going to do?
A creature of the Otherworld. A monster, filled with unimaginable power. David pictured the black puppy twining himself protectively around Jessie’s legs, growling his little puppy growl; Storm chasing squirrels in the castle grounds, tugging Jessie along in the hunt to find Viking. Those weren’t the actions of a monster. Well, the squirrels might disagree, but it wasn’t as if Storm had climbed the tree after them.
He should tell Ceridwen and let her decide what to do.
But he had seen how Jessie had stood between the professors and Storm at the obedience class, and he could imagine too clearly what Jessie would do if Ceridwen tried to take Storm from her. There were any number of things Ceridwen could do in return – from enchanting Jessie so she’d forget everything, to putting her to sleep for a year. And she’d do it believing it was the right thing.
David groaned. He’d never felt this torn before.
‘Morfran!’ a familiar voice snapped.
David turned, forcing himself to smile.
‘Where have you been?’ Ceridwen asked. ‘I told you to come straight home from school. It’s not safe to be outside with a stormhound on the loose.’
She sounded for a moment as if David were a real boy and she were his real aunt, worrying about him. David should have laughed, but inside he felt a tight pain in his chest.
‘You’re outside,’ he pointed out.
‘I know what I’m doing.’ She stretched as if trying to ease pains out of her shoulders. ‘I’ve spent the day hunting. Once or twice I thought I caught the scent of the creature, but never for long, and never enough to track it to its lair.’
She didn’t know about Storm. David tried not to let his relief show on his face. He pushed his hands in his pockets to stop them from trembling. ‘Auntie Ceridwen,’ he said. ‘You know you said we had to dispose of the stormhound? You meant . . .’
‘Kill it,’ she said, nodding. ‘It’s the only thing we can do.’
David felt cold. ‘But what if it isn’t? What if the stormhound isn’t as bad as you think? Maybe that’s why we can’t find it, because we’ve all been looking for a monster. What if it’s more like a normal dog, for example? A puppy.’
Ceridwen’s gaze sharpened. ‘If you have something to say, Morfran . . .’
‘No. I’m just trying to think of all the options. Even if it is just a harmless puppy, you’ll still kill it?’
‘There’s no such thing as a harmless stormhound,’ Ceridwen said, frowning. ‘This is a creature from the Otherworld. It might manage to disguise its true nature for a little while, though I fail to see why it would, but it is still the same inside. So, yes, I will do what’s necessary.’
‘And what about Odin?’ David asked. ‘What about the Wild Hunt?’ he said, his voice rising angrily. ‘If they come looking for their missing hound and you’ve killed it—’
‘Odin is bound by the rules, as we are,’ Ceridwen said. ‘In the mortal world, the stormhound is outside his protection – and if Odin has a problem with that, he can challenge me and we’ll fight it out, but it won’t come to that.’ She smiled thinly. ‘Go on indoors now. I’ll continue the search.’
She walked away, then stopped sharply. ‘Morfran?’
David’s heart jumped.
‘Your friend,’ Ceridwen said. ‘The girl. That’s all finished?’
David nodded. ‘I won’t speak to her again.’
‘Good. And thank you.’
David watched her go, shivering slightly as her words echoed in his head. The stormhound might disguise its true nature for a while, but it’s still the same inside.
Did she think the same of him too? He’d begun life as a hare, and look at him now. He didn’t feel quite human inside, but he didn’t feel like a hare either, neither one thing nor the other. And if that had happened to him, could the same thing happen to a stormhound?
For the first time in many years David wished he was an ordinary hare so he didn’t have to worry about any of this.
He walked in the direction of the river, but instead of turning aside to the house he kept walking, away from the town until the road widened and houses gave way to fields. Then he began to run, heading towards the low mountain peaks beyond the town. At some point he found himself running on four legs and he knew he’d changed shape without noticing.
David didn’t run far, only to a split in the road where sheep were grazing on the stubby grass. He paused and nibbled at a yellow stalk, trying to pretend he still liked the taste.
Baaaa!
A large, black-faced ewe stood behind him. The hare spat out grass. Sorry. Not in the mood to talk.
The sheep tipped its head to one side. Really? Because there are thoughts bursting out of you. Going out on a lamb, I’d say you need help.
If he’d been in human form he’d have laughed – sarcastically. Hares had the wrong mouth shape for laughing. But if he was in human form, he wouldn’t be having this conversation. Human ears weren’t built to understand animal speech. He sat back on his tail. You want to help me? You do know you’re only a sheep, right?
The sheep glanced down at itself. I could be some other four-legged woolly animal that says ‘baaaa’. You never know.
Two other sheep ambled closer and the three of them stood in a semi-circle, watching with polite interest. The hare shrugged. All right, what do you want?
Want? the first sheep asked. We’re sheep, why should we want anything?
We watch, the second one said. We notice. We observe.
The third sheep nudged the hare with her head. It’s interesting, watching the world turn. You should try it.
He didn’t have time to just watch. Either the professors would find Storm or his aunt would, and either way the result would be the same. Storm wasn’t safe here, but where else could he go?
David wriggled his nose and changed into a boy. He did it a bit too fast and it hurt.
‘Ouch,’ he said, stretching his arms until his elbows cracked.
The sheep stood around him. Not surprised at his sudden change, just observing.
David sighed and tore up a handful of grass, letting the blades scatter one at a time. Maybe he should just stay out of all this. He’d be moving on soon, anyway. None of it would matter then.
But he couldn’t, of course. If he did nothing, either the professors or Ceridwen would come for Storm, and Jessie would be in greater danger than she could ever imagine.
A cold wind blew across the hillside, bringing a scattering of rain. A storm was coming – tomorrow at four o’clock, according to the professors’ map.
David scrambled up. Storm was outside Odin’s protection here in the mortal world, Ceridwen had said. The answer was obvious, then – Storm had to leave the mortal world. Then the professors could waste all the time they wanted looking for him; Ceridwen too. Jessie would be safe, and even though she’d have to lose Storm he’d still be alive.
Just for a moment, sunlight flooded the hillside.
‘Thanks, sheep!’ David shouted.
A chorus of baaas followed him as he raced to the road. First, he’d cast protection spells around Jessie’s house. That’d stop the professors finding Storm. And then, because he couldn’t tell Jessie the truth, he’d have to talk to Storm.