Maud ran over, her feet sinking deeper into the mud with every step. She glanced over her shoulder. Wilf and Warren were squelching along behind her, followed by Penelope.

“Isn’t there a spell to stop the rain?” yelled Maud.

“There was,” said Penelope, “but the page is smudged and I can’t read it.” She flipped through the book as the rain lashed its pages. “Maybe I could try a different spell. I could summon a gust of wind to blow the caravan back up.”

“No, no more spells! You’d probably blow them into the next village!” said Maud. “We’ll have to rescue them ourselves.”

At that moment, bright light flooded the clearing. Maud looked up to see a full moon shining between the rain clouds. At least it would be easier to see what they were doing now.

“Wilf, can you and your brother get around it and push it back up?” shouted Maud. “Wilf?”

There was no reply. Maud glanced over her shoulder and saw that the Wild brothers had both fallen to their hands and knees in the soupy mud. They looked up at the full moon and let out growls, as their jaws stretched and their arms and legs jutted back into awkward, impossible shapes. They craned their necks up as one and howled, with no trace of the human left in their voices.

Where the two boys had been standing, there were now a couple of wolves with thick brown coats, slobbering muzzles, and long, bushy tails. The smaller wolf barked and ran off into the mist. The larger wolf chased around in circles, trying to bite its own tail, before finally following.

“Come on,” said Maud to Penelope. “We don’t have any time to waste!”

Maud splashed on through the gloopy mud and reached the top of the slope, just as the back of the caravan was disappearing into the swamp. A rope tied to the tow bar was uncoiling in the slime in front of her. She grabbed hold of it, and Penelope grabbed on behind her.

“Some use those boys turned out to be,” said Penelope through gritted teeth.

“They can’t help it,” said Maud breathlessly, her feet dragging through the mud like a waterskier. “Wilf can’t think straight when he’s in wolf form. He once chased a squirrel for thirty miles and had to call his dad to pick him up.”

“I might have known you’d stick up for that pathetic puppy,” said Penelope. “It’s hardly surprising, given that you’ve only got two friends.”

“That’s still twice as many as you,” said Maud.

No matter how much they pulled, it was no use. The caravan was still falling deeper and deeper into the swamp.

Maud looked around desperately and spotted a thick tree-stump sticking out of the mud. She stretched the rope as far as it would go. It was just long enough to loop once around the stump. She tied it in a double knot, hoping it would hold.

The rope twanged tight. Maud held her breath … and the caravan halted.

Maud breathed a huge sigh of relief. The bog was covering the bottom half of the caravan door. She wouldn’t be able to rescue her family just yet, but at least they were safe.

She looked across the clearing to the spot she’d pitched her tent. Through the slanting rain, she saw it sink down into the mud with a loud glug.

“Drat!” said Maud.

Penelope chuckled with glee, the rain pouring off her hat.

There was a squelch from the other side of the clearing, as the witch’s black tent collapsed into the mud, too.

Penelope’s laughter tailed off.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed your joke, at least,” said Maud.

“I was just trying to lighten things up,” said Penelope. “I didn’t know it would rain so much.”

Maud scanned the clearing. The ground was so soggy, it would swallow her up if she tried to sleep on it. The only solid surface around was the roof of the caravan.

She sighed, waded through the mud and clambered up the front of the vehicle on to the roof, followed by Penelope. The rain was easing off now, but a cold wind blew through Maud’s soaked clothes, making her shiver.

“Well, this is just perfect,” said Penelope.

“And whose fault is that?” asked Maud.

“Alright,” said Penelope. “There’s no need to go on about it.”

She took her hat off and laid it on its side to make a pillow. Within a few seconds, she was snoring loudly.

Maud took Quentin out of her pocket and tried to dry him with a tissue. His fur was so wet, it had clumped into spiky tufts, and he was shivering from the cold.

“You poor thing,” said Maud. “I’m afraid we’re not going to get much warmer tonight.” The roof of the caravan was curved, and it was impossible to find a comfortable spot, but Maud stretched out as best she could. She looked up at the bright moon. The caravan was stuck in the bog, her tent was under the mud, and the Wilds were dashing around on all fours. And this was just the first night.

So far, the holiday was off to a horrible start.