to the ground, creeping through the brush as he locked his eyes on a bunny chewing on a patch of clover. He could almost taste the meat in his mouth, the sharp iron taste on his tongue.
He frowned, stepping back away from the thicket of trees. This wasn’t right. Where was he?
“Wolves!” a grayish bird screeched above him, chirping loudly as it flew between trees.
Frankie turned back to his pack, which was the farthest thing from a pack of wolves. A beagle with droopy ears rested her head in the dirt while a small golden retriever puppy kept trying to climb on top of him. An Australian Shepherd sat still, eyes on Frankie.
The only other wolf Frankie could see was a patchy white one with large tufts of fur missing. Frankie cocked his head to the side, his thoughts clearing. Other wolf.
He noted the beagle, retriever, collie, and Shepherd, but there wasn’t another wolf. Just Remmy.
He looked down, glimpsing two enormous paws holding him up.
“Woah, what the fuck?” Frankie tried to say. Instead of words, he hopped backward and yipped.
The beagle lifted her head and huffed, “Language.”
Memories flooded back into Frankie. He’d been in Mandrake Manor with Remmy. Then he was on the street. Then the woods. Dogs found them. Remmy’s dogs. And Dude.
“What happened?” Frankie asked.
Remmy lowered his ears and cautiously stepped forward. “Are you back with us?”
Frankie blinked. “Back? I. I think so. How long was I—”
“A few days,” Remmy said, lifting his head and sniffing.
“Days?!” Frankie shouted, looking around the woods. “Where are we? August! We need to get back.”
“Back home?” Dude said, sitting up, his tongue lolling from his mouth. “Back to treats? Back to pets? And naps? I like naps.”
Remmy let out a low growl, eying Dude before stepping closer to Frankie. “We can’t. Not yet.”
“Why not?” Frankie asked. “They need our help. We can’t just leave them.”
“And how do you plan on helping them as a wolf?”
Frankie yipped and paced around the tree. “Fine. But what option do I have? You can’t turn me back. Maybe August can. I’m sure there’s something in the book.”
“Helena took it, remember?”
Frankie huffed, his fear overwhelming him. Before he could stop himself, he let out a howl. It rang in his ears, a desperate plea and surge of emotion that carried on the wind.
Remmy joined in, filling in calming notes that resonated with Frankie’s.
Then the dogs joined in, not quite at the caliber of a wolf’s howl, but comforting nonetheless.
Frankie’s mind slowed, and the song left his throat as he slumped down into the dirt. “What do we do?”
“There might be someone in Henbane Hollow who could help. As long as they . . .”
Remmy trailed off, lifting his nose up in the air.
Seconds later, Frankie caught the scent. Something akin to the scent of rain before a storm and moss from an old forest filled his nostrils. With it, pictures of dense woodlands pressed on his thoughts, and a face covered in leaves cemented itself in his mind.
Frankie eyed Remmy and asked, “What is that?”
“Our answer,” Remmy said. “Follow me before we lose the trail.”
Frankie followed, as did the others, as they weaved through underbrush, alongside rivers, and through open fields.
Several hours passed, and they stopped at the edge of a clearing.
“Where are we?” Frankie asked.
Remmy took a careful step forward onto a well-manicured field. “Just outside Henbane Hollow. This was all woods when we left.”
Frankie remembered the woods that surrounded Henbane Hollow, dense and encroaching on the stone wall that encompassed Henbane Hollow. Now there was a field, flattened, mowed, and with a fresh coat of paint for soccer, baseball, and football.
The little golden retriever hopped forward onto the field, shouting, “Play? Ball? Run? Play with me!”
“Arnold!” the collie shouted, racing forward and grabbing the pup by the scruff. “Not here.”
Arnold slumped in the collie’s grip and said with a sigh, “No fun.”
A breeze drifted by, carrying the scent, drawing them to a patch of trees surrounded by fields of grass.
“There,” Remmy said.
“Keep low and follow me,” Frankie said before shooting off and racing toward the woods. He kept his eyes forward while his stomach turned in knots, feeling exposed in this artificial field.
Before he knew it, he and his pack dipped into the trees, hit with a dense and humid mist. He slowed, weaving in and out of trees before stopping at a cave opening.
The hairs on his hackles rose as an odor wafted from the cave. It wasn’t the scent that had carried them. Instead, it was one of rot and death.
“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,” a voice called out from the trees. “That’s not a place for the living.”
Remmy growled, and the pack of dogs dropped their tails between their legs, maneuvering to stand in front of Arnold.
Frankie bared his teeth. “Who’s there?”
A man stepped out from behind the trees, wearing a long robe and resting a hand against the bark. “I heard your call. Seems you’ve lost your way.”
“Jacob?” Frankie asked, cocking his head to the side. He struggled to focus on the man’s features, pushing past the wolf part of his brain. He recognized the man’s light eyes first, followed by his broad shoulders and wavy hair. He hadn’t seen Mandrake Manor’s handyperson in anything but a tool belt before, but he was certain it was him.
Jacob climbed down the hill to meet them at the cave entrance. “This suburbanification has gotten out of control.”
“It’s Helena. She attacked Mandrake Manor,” Remmy said.
Jacob nodded. “She was bound to do it eventually, I guess.” He looked around at the woods. “I did what I could to preserve this spot, but I can’t hold it forever. Where are the other Mandrakes?”
“Last I saw, Mat was in the underworld, and Helena knocked August unconscious. And Helena took the book,” Frankie said.
Jacob nodded. “Then we’re running out of time.”
Frankie let out a huff. “She turned me into this. Made me forget who I was. Can you help me turn back?”
Jacob knelt down at his side, running a hand along Frankie’s snout. “The magic that binds you is powerful. Beyond what I can do.”
“So I’m stuck like this,” Frankie whined.
Jacob shook his head. “I didn’t say that. You are of the Mandrake coven. You have all the power you need.”
“Well, thanks, Glinda,” Frankie said, pulling his head out of Jacob’s hands. “Maybe a little more clarity on how exactly I’m supposed to do that?”
“Frankie,” Remmy said, nudging Frankie’s side. “He’s trying to help.”
“I know,” Frankie said. “I know. Sorry.”
Jacob pushed himself up and crossed his arms. “You’ve used your voice before, right? Commanded the elements, revealed the hidden?”
The memory of a small white poodle that turned into a shadowy pooka came to mind. “Yeah,” Frankie said. “But it went wrong. I made Remmy turn against his will.”
“But it worked, right?” Jacob asked. “You won’t learn how to control it if you don’t use it. And if you don’t use it, then you could be trapped as a wolf forever.”
“Fine,” Frankie said. “What do you suggest I do, then?”
“Your magic reveals truths and returns the natural order. When you did it before, how did it happen?”
“I don’t know. I touched Henry, the pooka, and told him to show himself,” Frankie said.
Jacob nodded. “So do that again but tell it to yourself.”
Remmy sat down next to the dogs and watched, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.
Frankie shook his head. “Fine. Fine.” He breathed in once, closed his eyes, and said, “Be me.”
He wasn’t sure how long his eyes were closed, but it felt like an eternity. He kept mumbling, “Be me. Be me.” No matter how much he tried, nothing happened. Eventually, Frankie opened his eyes and glared at Jacob. “It’s not working.”
“I can see that. You want this, right? Want to be a human again?”
“Yeah, obviously,” Frankie said, looking over at Remmy.
Jacob followed his gaze and smirked. “Obviously. But maybe not if Remmy isn’t human too?”
“No,” Frankie said. “I mean, yes. He’s stuck because of me. It’s only fair that—”
Remmy stood up. “It’s not your fault.”
“And Remmy can’t turn back unless you help yourself first,” Jacob said.
“Fine,” Frankie said. Taking a deep breath, he focused inward. A tingle ran down to his paws. “Be me,” he mumbled.
He focused on what he looked like, his curled hair, tan skin, brown eyes. Those thoughts peeled away at his wolf form, and he felt his mind buzz.
The static sensation vibrated through his body, turning his skin into pins and needles. It overwhelmed him, but he squeezed his eyes shut and kept muttering, “Be me.”
His body shifted, his fur receding while his bones popped and rearranged. He screamed, but he couldn’t hear it among the buzzing in his ears.
Then everything fell silent. He opened his eyes, blinking, as a dull, mundane world came into focus.
He pushed himself up, seeing the dirt caked on his naked flesh.
Jacob looked away as Remmy came rushing to his side, licking at his face. “You did it!”
Frankie ran his fingers through Remmy’s fur, the residual magic intermixing on his fingertips. He felt a weave interlaced in his fur, a magic that was familiar. It was his spell, the one that locked Remmy as a wolf. He pulled at it with his mind as words fell from his lips. “Undo. Undo. Undo.”
The magic slipped back into his fingers, tracing up his arm. He frowned as a different sensation came to the edges of his fingertips, a feeling like oil seeping up his hand. It wasn’t his magic but something else. Images of Helena and an older woman flashed in his mind, silent words as they wrapped a string around a picture of Remmy.
He pulled back and flung his hand, seeing a blob of blackened ooze splat onto the forest ground. It fizzled and sank into the dirt.
“What the hell was that?” Frankie asked.
But before anyone could answer, Frankie saw the effect he had on Remmy.
The bald patches of fur grew back, and for a moment, a glorious white wolf looked back at him with a glowing white coat. Then Remmy changed, his body seamlessly turning back into a human.
Before Frankie knew it, both he and Remmy were feet apart, human, and completely naked.
“Uh,” Jacob said. “I might have some spare clothes in the truck. I’ll. I’ll go do that.”
Jacob turned and vanished into the woods.
Remmy stood up and stretched his back. “Ugh, I’ve been dying to do that for days.”
Frankie grinned, looking at Remmy before eyeing the collection of dogs staring back at the two of them. “Too bad we have an audience.”
Remmy smiled. “Get your mind out of the gutter. We’ve got a neighborhood to save.”