FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

Teagan went to the market square. The town of Ridgewood was the trading hub for the entire valley, so there was a decent variety of goods on sale. One stall caught her attention—it was nestled between another stall that sold doughnuts, and another stall that was selling chilled beverages.

But this stall stood out because it had a wide banner that declared, “Protection for Sale!” Swords, knives, axes, daggers, and even a pole arm were laid out across the silk tablecloth, with their blades shiny and sharp. The large table also had a couple of bows alongside quivers filled with arrows, and several round or rectangular shields rested against the table legs.

Two men staffed the stall. Both were wearing chainmail and carried swords strapped to their belts. The first was a large, muscular, frowny figure who had his arms folded and merely glared—a man of muscle, here to make an impression and help watch the goods. The second man was the merchant running the store. He was thinner but his face was all smiles as he beckoned towards Teagan and gestured across the wares. “Young miss! Come take a look?”

Teagan came over to the merchant’s weapons stall, and he launched into his spiel. “Have you ever felt threatened? Bandits chase after you while you’re travelling, or muggers corner you in an alleyway? Or perhaps you were simply riding on a train or horse carriage, and some pervert won’t stop touching you? One day you will need to defend yourself, and wouldn’t you rather be prepared?”

That made Teagan faintly amused. Did she really need to carry around a weapon when she had teeth and claws to protect herself? Though admittedly she wouldn’t be able to bite anyone because imperial laws made it very illegal to spread lycanthropy. If self-defend ever became necessary, her general plan was to hope that changing into a half-human, half-wolf form would terrify any attackers and make them flee. And if that failed—well, a wolf could run away pretty fast.

Outwardly she put on the blank smile. “I don’t think I want to be carrying a sword around with me everywhere.”

The merchant raised his hands and nodded agreeably. “Perfectly reasonable of you, yes. Swords do take training to use, and they are mostly for guards or adventurers who want to go hunting megaspiders or gel cubes or other monsters.” He smiled widely at Teagan, before gesturing to himself and the other merchant. “I speak from personal experience, of course. I’ve lived through my own fair share of adventures! Me and my associate are fully accredited with the Adventurer’s Guild, so we have the experience to offer you a proper, useful plan to protect yourself. Now if you’re the sort of person who doesn’t do quite as much questing, this is a very practical option instead.”

Gliding his fingers across the table, the merchant picked up a dagger and unsheathed it, revealing a blade that was about as long as Teagan’s hand from wrist to fingertip. Carefully holding the blade, he offered the grip to her. “Even a simple dagger puts you at an advantage against any unarmed opponent. This one comes with the fitted leather sheath, and it can be easily attached to a belt or kept in a bag. It’s always useful to have a knife—for self-protection, but also in case you need to cut cloth, rope, or anything at all. Superbly useful.”

Teagan took the knife. It was heavier than she’d expected, but the grip felt firm and comfortable in her hand. Raising it up, she stared at the silvery blade, and then gently she touched her thumb against the cutting edge—it was sharp and solid. For a moment she contemplated the idea of buying the knife and keeping it hidden under her cloak, just in case she ever needed it. Then she blinked and reconsidered. She was a werewolf—why would she need a dagger to defend herself?

The merchant was still talking. “Tempered steel in the blade for strength, alloyed with a mix of telanium-silver for added safety. Crafted by the finest blacksmiths of the—”

She passed the dagger back. “I see. Thanks, but this isn’t my thing.”

Not to be dissuaded, the merchant took this in stride. Still smiling, he sheathed the dagger and returned it to its place on the table. “No worries! Protection must suit the person. How about… this?” He took out another, slightly more curved dagger and showed it to her, but Teagan was looking elsewhere.

Glancing across the table, she picked up a different object that looked different from all the blades and weapons—it was a pair of leather half-circle bands connected together with a buckle on one side and a silvery ring on the other side, forming a full loop. “What’s this?”

“Ah, that’s a protective necklace. The best offence is a good defence! The metal clasp and ring are made from pure silver.”

Teagan peered at the necklace. It was simple but had an appealing shine. “Silver?”

“Yes. It’ll keep you safe against curses and hexes. The metal also repels vampires, faeries, and werewolves.”

That caught Teagan’s attention. “This repels werewolves?”

The merchant nodded enthusiastically. “Silver is the great weakness of werewolves. Those monsters have a strong resistance to damage from any conventional weapon, but they have extreme vulnerability to silver. A werewolf can’t come near silver with suffering great discomfort, and even the slightest contact with the metal burns them.”

Teagan had the necklace resting in her palm, with the silvery ring touching her skin. She was not burning. Clearly this merchant only knew the myths about werewolves. But the necklace was temptingly shiny, appealing to some inner magpie instinct of hers. “Hmm…”

Sensing the possibility of a sale, the merchant’s smile turned ecstatic. “If this is more to your liking, I can give you an excellent discount on that item! In fact, I believe I also have some enchanted bracelets that are meant to come as a set with that necklace. Would you be of interest to you?” The skinny merchant ducked down and started searching through some boxes that were under the table. “Excuse me a moment, let me just take a look here…” While the first merchant was looking, the other merchant kept a suspicious watch on Teagan, making sure she didn’t steal anything.

Teagan casually sniffed at the necklace. Even while not a wolf, a werewolf’s sense of smell was better than a normal human. The band smelled like genuine leather, but the metal ring and buckle had no scent. Still holding the necklace in her hand, Teagan’s curiosity was piqued. She had never heard of pure silver being used to repel werewolves, but she had certainly heard about telanium-silver, which was a special metallic alloy with an affinity to magic, and which was used by magicians in their wands or staffs. Instinctively she reached for the lycanthropic power that ran within her—not with enough strength to even start to transform, but just enough to let a tiny bit of magic flow for the briefest instant.

For a split second, the necklace’s silvery ring flashed with a shimmering white glow, before fading back to its plain, silvery colour. That confirmed it. Telanium-silver glowed when magic was applied to it. The necklace was worth more than the merchant realized, if he wrongly believed it to be only pure silver.

The first, skinny merchant was still searching about under the table, but the other muscular man had been watching her. He kept his arms folded, but his frown abruptly turned into a faint smile. “Mage,” he noted in a soft, deep voice. Extending two fingers, he tapped his hand against his temple in a casual salute.

The merchant reappeared from under the table, carrying several boxes and his perpetual smile. “I can’t seem to find those matching bracelets, but I do have another necklace with the same design but with leather the dyed black, if you’re interested. Very stylish.”

Teagan looked at the necklace and wondered what it would look like around her neck. Then she wondered what it would look like around Oliver’s neck, and that was an intriguing thought. “How much does it cost?”

---

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Back in the inn room, Teagan had been enjoying a relaxing evening nap curled up on the bed, when she was suddenly jolted awake by the rattling of the door handle as someone tried to open the locked door. She sat upright and barely got her bare feet on the floor when there came a pounding on the door.

“Who…? Ahem.” Her voice came out rough, until she cleared her throat. “Who’s there?”

“Teagan, it’s me! Open the door, quickly!” came the muffled replied, along with another insistent series of knocks. It was a familiar voice. “This is urgent!”

“Oliver?” Teagan hurried over to unlock the door, and sure enough, Oliver came rushing in the moment she opened the door.

“Thank-you-sorry-very-urgent!” he exclaimed. The young man was dressed differently than before and carried a large backpack, but Teagan couldn’t even get a good look as he rushed past her.

“Urgent? Why? Do you need to use the toilet or…?” Teagan started to ask, but then Oliver stumbled to the middle of the room and then prompted transformed entirely into his wolf form. Grey fur covered him all over, puffing out under his clothes, while his body twisted as his proportions changed. He barely managed to stay upright on two legs for a brief second, then he tumbled to the ground.

“Ah. That sort of urgent.” Grinning, Teagan closed the room door and locked it again.

Lying sideways on the floor, still wearing his clothes and his backpack, Oliver panted tiredly. “I thought I would stay human longer after drinking the coffee this morning. But I was… I was barely walking into town when I could feel that… need. I could feel it, my body just preferred to be a wolf. I came here as quickly as I could, but I was barely holding on.”

“But you were holding on. And you could recognize it before it started to happen.” Teagan nodded approvingly. “Good job! You’re learning how to control your transformations already!”

Oliver’s breathing calmed down, then he blinked his eyes open and raised his head to look at her. “Hello again, by the way.”

“Hello to you too! Welcome back.” Teagan sat down on the floor and leaned against the side of the bed. She reached out and patted Oliver on his head between his ears. “I see you’ve got new clothes. They look good! Or they looked good for the few seconds I saw you wearing them as human.”

“Thanks.” Rather than the tattered, worn-out clothing he had before, Oliver was now wearing a dark blue shirt and a pair of jeans, along with a long, well-made coat. The wolf glanced down at himself, and his ears flattened against his head. “I hope I didn’t rip my clothes from the transformation.” He shrugged off his boots, socks, the coat, and his jeans, but he struggled with getting the shirt’s hem past his furry neck and head until Teagan helped him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Now in nothing but his own fur, Oliver shook himself all over. He glanced at Teagan, and then visibly perked up. “Oh, you got new clothes too?”

Teagan laughed. “Not new, just a different style. You didn’t think I wore nothing but dresses, did you?” She been lazing about in the inn room for the past hour, and she swapped out her dress for a comfortable skirt and a loose crop top that covered her shoulders but left her midriff exposed. “What do you think? Better, worse?”

Oliver’s tail wagged. He looked at her up and down, staring intently, then just nodded. “Equally good. You’re just… you’re cute. Extremely so.”

“Thanks.” Teagan pointed a finger and winked at her fellow werewolf. Leaning a bit closer, she sniffed at Oliver—she didn’t need to bury her nose in his fur to detect a myriad of scents that clung to him. There was the usual scent of his fur and skin, with some sweat from his exertion walking in and out of town, but then also the faint stink of mud. “You made it home?”

Oliver nodded. A flicker of sadness crossed his face. “The farm was… it smelled so much worse than I remember.” He tapped his nose with his paw. “The scent sensitivity thing—even though I was human, I… wasn’t all human, was I? I was still a werewolf. I grew up in that place, and yet it felt different, as if I didn’t belong anymore! But I could have gotten used to the smell. My family, though…”

Teagan listened along closely, and let Oliver speak without interrupting.

“My brother was good to me. As for the rest of them… They weren’t chasing me with axes or pitchforks, and they weren’t even yelling like they did last time, but they treated me like I’m different and made me feel like a stranger in my childhood home. And I can’t fault them for that. I tried to explain lycanthropy to them once more, but they don’t understand.” He sighed softly, but then shrugged. “I told them I was leaving for the city, then I packed my clothes and things. My brother made me promise to write. Then it was goodbyes, and… and it was goodbye.”

Teagan hesitated, then she shifted closer and put her hand on Oliver’s back. “How are you feeling?”

“I think… a little sad, but also excited, also nervous. This is a new phase of my life, and not in the way I ever expected.” Oliver shivered, and his fur puffed out. Teagan had been staring at him, watching his expression—now their gazes met, and for a brief instant she felt like she really understood him. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. We can talk about something else. I’ll get used to all of this and… uh…” Then Oliver frowned and cocked his head. “Wait, are you wearing a dog collar?”

“Hahaha!” Teagan burst out into amused laughter. She tapped a finger against her neck, where she was wearing that leather necklace with the silvery ring over her throat. “It’s a necklace. A choker. Check this out.” Teagan transformed to wolf, which made the necklace’s silver ring flare with light. “It’s telanium-silver, the magician metal. It glows whenever I shift.” She transformed back to human, and the necklace flashed again.

“Wow. Shiny.” Oliver looked intrigued. “Does that… make it easier to shift? Or harder?”

“No, not at all. It’s just for the looks. But it looks cool.”

Oliver nodded. “Makes your neck look… necky.”

Teagan chuckled. “Heh, thanks. I bought it from the market square. Here, you try.” She reached behind her neck to unbuckle the necklace, then she put it around Oliver’s neck. “Hmm, it does look like a dog collar when a wolf wears it.”

They both shared a laugh at that. Standing up, Oliver trotted over towards the side of the room, where there was a full-length mirror. He peered at himself, and at the necklace collar. “At least I look more civilized with a collar. Now I look like someone’s lost pet, instead of a wild animal.”

“You can be my pet…” Teagan murmured under her voice, softly enough that Oliver wouldn’t hear.

He turned and looked at her, amused. He had heard.

Louder she said, “I was thinking it could help you out, by giving you a little forewarning when you’re starting to shift so you can be prepared. But it seems like you’re already starting to recognize it on your own.”

“Practice makes perfect, I suppose? One day I’ll be able to control my transforms as well as you can… hopefully.” Turning away from the mirror, Oliver nodded at her. “How was your afternoon? You went to the market?”

“Oh yes. I went looking around the market. Didn’t buy anything except that necklace, but it was interesting to see all the different traders. Then I went to the train station to check the timings for tomorrow. Uh, then the last place I went to see was the town museum.”

Oliver looked curious. His ears perked up. “The Ridgewood Archive? How was it?”

Teagan sat down on the bed again, with one leg dangling off the side, casually leaning back against the headboard with her hands behind her head. “You might judge me for this, but I didn’t go in. I went to the archive entrance, beside town hall, but then I backed out at the last moment and didn’t go in.”

She waited a moment for Oliver to respond, but he just tilted his head and gave her a confused expression.

Teagan continued. “I was in the queue for an admission ticket, and the curator, this master archivist, was going around chatting with visitors while we were queuing. A stern-looking man with big glasses—Professor Haile… Helagon… something?”

“Professor Haiglin,” Oliver corrected her.

“Yes, him. He was very cheery and friendly, and sounded knowledgeable. He gave me recommendations about the books, artifacts, and other old historical things that were must-sees in the archive. There was this… old black knife thing with its own display space right near the entrance that he was especially proud of. I could see it even before going in.”

Oliver nodded. “Oh yes! That would be the obsidian dagger, a ceremonial weapon held by an Ocari warlord during the Age of Silver, when the valley was occupied by the Southern Federation. That was dug up in an archaeological expedition by the Royal Academy of Magic fifteen years ago. They actually found a pair of daggers, and one of them was kept in the archive here, while the other was sent back to the Kadrin National Museum.”

Teagan grinned. “You know the archive, don’t you? Cause you worked there. If you’d been there, you could have given me the tour. But anyway, as I was chatting with the professor, he asked where I was visiting from and I mentioned that I had stopped in this town as part of my journey to the capital, where I was looking for a new job. And guess what? He then asked if I wanted a job as assistant archivist, helping him to catalogue items and maintain the displays.”

Oliver’s eyes widened. “Oh, really?”

“Apparently the last person who had the job was this bright, reliable young chap who did solid work for a whole year, before abruptly vanishing without a trace about a month ago.” Reaching out her arm, she pointed a finger at Oliver. “Then he suddenly turns up at the archive one morning after two weeks when no one has seen him, only to resign immediately while refusing to make any explanation whatsoever. The professor described it as unprofessional, baffling behaviour, and speculated about substance abuse or a heartbreaking failed romance.”

Oliver scowled. “I couldn’t tell him that I’d turned into a werewolf! Even my family won’t listen to me, and there’s no way that my boss would. I do hope you didn’t tell him anything! Either about me, or about you being a werewolf.”

Teagan shook her head. “No, I didn’t even tell him that I knew you. Because I… I also asked him about werewolves, and he thinks we’re shapeshifting monsters.” She sighed. “I thought that an educated professor, a museum archive curator, would know the truth about werewolves, but no. He thinks we’re monstrosities, like megaspiders or demons. He was very enthusiastic with his storytelling, talking about the different vicious methods by which werewolves were hunted down. Traps where you fall into a pit of spikes, or teams of hunting dogs to chase you down and tear you apart… lots of ways to be hunted and killed.”

Oliver watched her, listening closely. “Did he figure out that you were a werewolf?”

“I don’t think so. I didn’t sense intentional hostility, but just that he didn’t know he was talking to a werewolf as he spoke about how our kind were historically hunted down and murdered.” Teagan sighed again, softly. “It was unexpected and very unpleasant. Some of the other visitors thought it was fascinating, and they kept asking questions, so he kept telling them. I… I made an excuse, said that I had to go to the washroom, and left the queue and the archive without ever going in.” Raising her gaze, she stared at Oliver. “Go on, then. Tell me that I was being silly and oversensitive for going all the way to the town museum, then changing my mind at the last moment and backing out because of some comments that I was overthinking.”

Oliver was quiet for a while, until Teagan thought he wasn’t even going to reply, then he did. “I don’t think you’re silly. The point of visiting the town archive was to enjoy yourself by learning and seeing all the artifacts. Hearing threats of death, even if they are unintended, is discouraging. I understand that.”

“The queue to get in was also long. But mainly it was… yeah, you put it well. It was discouraging.” Teagan folded her arms. “Maybe I should have persevered. Rather than letting that comment stick and bother me, I ought to have just shaken it off and carried on.”

Oliver looked at her. “Was that a wolf pun? Shake it off?” He shook his body, as if drying off his fur, which made Teagan burst out into laughter.

“Hahaha! You are just… No, I wasn’t doing a pun.” But still she grinned. Any negative feelings she’d picked up from hearing the museum curator talk about werewolves were easy to forget when Oliver made her laugh. “Maybe I should go to the archive, since I’m here in Ridgewood anyway.”

“Do you want to? I could take you there and show you around the place, give you a good tour!” Oliver offered, but then he paused. “Oh, wait. No, that wouldn’t work.”

Teagan laughed. “Cause you’re a wolf?”

“Because the archive closes after sundown, so there isn’t enough time now to see it properly. Although yes, I can’t control myself from being a wolf, so I can’t get in either. No pets allowed. Maybe we go see it tomorrow?”

“There won’t be time tomorrow if we’re catching the morning train to the capital,” Teagan replied. Reaching out, she slipped a finger under Oliver’s collar and pulled him closer. He put his chin on her lap, and she casually patted his head. “And also, won’t you still be a wolf tomorrow?”

Oliver let her pat him, and his tail wagged slowly. “That’s true. Well, there’s always the option of seeing the National Museum in Kadrin. I’m sure the exhibits and artifacts there would be much more impressive than anything that’s in the humble little town archive here.”

“I think I would like that,” Teagan agreed.

“Speaking of artifacts…!” Pulling free from her touch, Oliver excitedly went over to his backpack and tried to open a compartment on the front. His wolf paws didn’t have quite the dexterity to grab the zipper. “I brought the book—that book! The old, cursed, trap book which turned me into a werewolf in the first place.”

“Ah ha, that book. Let me see.” Her curiosity piqued, Teagan rolled off the bed and came over. Oliver kept trying to pull the zipper, with only limited success. Teagan smirked. “Want me to help?”

Oliver shook his head. “Not yet. Let me do this! I have to learn how to be a wolf… or maybe the frustration of being a wolf and not being able to grab things will motivate me to learn control of my shifts.” He pawed at the zipper, which was still holding the backpack’s front compartment sealed, then with a soft growl he tried to bite the zipper slider with his jaws—also without success. “Grr… come on…! Arrgh. Ok fine. Uh, help me with this please?”

“Certainly.” Teagan folded her legs and dropped into a sitting position. She gave a quick hug to Oliver before pushing him aside, and then she smoothly unzipped the backpack’s front compartment. “Here you go.”

“Thank you kindly.” Oliver reached in, but then instead of taking out a book, he took out a pair of white cloth gloves. He half-heartedly tried to put the gloves on, but his paws didn’t fill them the same way his hands would have. He waved his paw, which made the glove fingers wobble about, and Teagan giggled. “Yeah, maybe you should do this part too.” Oliver bit the gloves to pull them off, them he offered them to her. “Here, put these on.”

Teagan put on the gloves. The cloth was soft and thin enough that it didn’t affect her dexterity. “Is the book really so dangerous to touch?”

“Hmm? Oh no, the gloves are so that you don’t get dirt onto the book—it’s standard procedure when handling artifacts from the archive. Here, unzip the main compartment. The book is in a padded box inside there. Although now that you mention it, maybe it is safer not to be handling the book with bare hands. Last time I did that, it snapped shut on my fingers and I ended up becoming a werewolf.”

“I’ll be careful.” Teagan unzipped the backpack’s main compartment. Stuffed into the large pack was a load of folded clothes, but right on top there was a flat, rectangular cardboard box with the lid held down by a rubber band. Teagan carefully lifted the box out and slipped off the rubber band, then she slowly lifted off the lid.

Inside the box, nestled in paper padding, was a small black book. From the weight and size of the box, Teagan had been expecting a bigger object, but the book was merely the size of a small, thick novel. Very carefully, she picked it up. It was denser and heavier than it should have been. Sniffing at it with her werewolf nose, she picked up the scent of aged paper and glue, but also the smell of old metal. The leather cover didn’t quite smell like leather either—it was black in colour, with a faint hexagonal pattern. “Wow. What is this?”

“The cover is leather, but it’s not cow leather. I think those are dragon scales inlaid into sky viper leather. Expensive materials, especially given the era this book came from—it’s dated to more than century ago, before the drakken opened their trade routes.”

Teagan glanced at him. “These are dragon scales? That’s expensive. When you told me before that the book was made of weird leather, I was imagining leather of human skin or a wolf’s hide—something horrible like that.”

Oliver sighed. “If it were human skin, I definitely would not have opened it up. But I was curious—someone went to a lot of trouble to make this unique book. It’s not even truly a book.”

With a gloved hand, Teagan carefully ran a finger across the cover. The cover was blank except for a series of small, neat runes in jet black ink, filled into indentations in the leather and underlined by more black lines. “What does that say?” Teagan asked.

“I don’t know. It’s similar to the Ocari language, but I can’t quite read it—maybe a different, older dialect.” Oliver gestured with his paw. “Here’s the interesting part! Open it up, very carefully. Only touch the covers.”

Still wearing the gloves, Teagan laid the book down on the floor and then she opened it. Trying to do so made it obvious that this wasn’t a proper book—instead, it had the outer covers and sides of a book, but inside was a metal box. The hinge felt stiff, and it took effort to open the front cover as if she was pushing against a spring, but it stayed open once pushed. There was an empty slot at the top of the container, open to the front of the book, through which a single gold coin was stuck. When the book had been closed, this slot had been disguised as part of the black ink detailing on the cover.

Oliver tapped Teagan’s arm. “Ok, stop, don’t touch anything. I’ll explain.” He pointed at the book. “See, so this looks like a book, but then on examination you realize it’s actually a coin storage box designed to look like a book, where you can drop coins through the slot. Right, right? But it’s not! You see that gold coin? It looks like it got stuck in the coin slot, yes? It’s not stuck. It’s a trigger. If you put your hand there and try to pull the coin free, there’s a spring mechanism that will snap the book shut onto your hand. It’s a trap book!”

“Wow.” Teagan went to her bag and grabbed one of the tent poles, then she cautiously used the metal pole to poke at the coin—the first few jabs did nothing, but then she used more force and instantly the book box’s lid snapped shut with the soft clunk of metal on metal. The trap book didn’t have enough force to dent the tent pole, but against a person’s fingers the book box’s metal edge would have stung. “That’s… weird.”

“Exactly!” Oliver paced around the room. “At first I thought it was just a… a simple prank device, made by some crafter who wanted to play a joke and pinch people’s fingers. But then after I turned into a werewolf, that made me realize it was something more—it must have been made to give someone lycanthropy! But why?! All those nights in the forest, I kept wondering. Who did this? Who were they targeting? What nefarious plot was this, trying to turn someone into a werewolf?”

Teagan carefully opened up the book box again and examined it. The metal was worn out and corroded from time, but there were also faint marks of brown on the edge of the lid—was that more rust, or was it dried blood? It must have been dried blood from a werewolf, and with the box lid sharp enough to draw blood, that would let the magical contagion spread to whoever got their fingers pinched. Blood on blood, and so the lycanthropy spread.

Oliver kept pacing around. His tail flicked from side to side agitatedly, but his eyes were bright with imagination. “Why turn someone into a werewolf? What purpose would that serve? Maybe it was a plot to turn some political figure into a werewolf, then have them disqualified from office or even assassinated? Or maybe it was to turn a werewolf hunter into a werewolf, as a stroke of irony? Was it a revenge plot by a spurned lover, or a scam by an unscrupulous businessman? Just who was this targeted at? Did the ploy work? What weird history this device must have!”

Teagan thought about it, and she had an alternate idea. “Or… maybe it was only a prank device. Maybe it was made to pinch people’s fingers for a laugh, if they tried to steal that coin from the book box. Then one day, a werewolf in human form got their fingers pinched, and without realizing it, that drew a little bit of blood—enough to spread lycanthropy to the next person who got their fingers pinched. But then no one fell for the trap until so many decades or centuries later, when an apprentice archivist finds this trap book in the archive and gets his fingers pinched.” She looked at Oliver. “Could that be possible?”

“Oooh.” Oliver stopped mid-step, with one paw in the air. “But you… but that… that’s such a mundane idea. Could that be it…? But that’s just… that’s only an accident! No grand conspiracy, just a simple accident?” He walked back over and sat down, looking at the book box. “Could that be it? Clearly this trap wasn’t meant for me because it was made centuries before we were even born. But… I assumed it was made to deliberately spread lycanthropy. If it wasn’t, then this was just an accident.”

“Just a simple mistake? I think that’s more likely.” Teagan watched him think.

“Just a mistake.” Oliver’s gaze was intense as he stared at the trap book, and his tail flicked with agitation. “I’m the mistake. Standard procedure is to be wearing gloves when handling artifacts—but all those weeks ago when I first found this trap book in the archive, I was so curious that I started examining it without bothering to put on gloves. What a mistake! I’m an animal now, carrying a contagious magical disease because I made a mistake.” He sounded so glum that Teagan couldn’t take it.

She shifted into wolf form and then bumped her snout against Oliver’s shoulder. “Do you really think it’s so bad to be a werewolf? If you could turn back time, you would change everything? Not become a werewolf, just stay entirely normal?”

Oliver turned to look at her. “Yes! No? Maybe.” One wolf looking at another, with his dark eyes expressive but uncertain. “My first few days as werewolf, when I was an outcast in the woods, that was truly miserable. I was lost and hopeless, wandering around as a wolf with no idea whether I’d ever be able to turn back to human. I was even starting to think if there was any point in continuing. But it… hasn’t been all bad. Especially now having met you, things have been much better. You’re not a monster, you’re just a werewolf—and so am I. I really appreciate how you’ve explained the werewolf life to me.”

Teagan nodded. “Of course. It’s the right thing to do.”

“You’re a good person. A good friend.” Oliver was solemn for a moment, then he chuckled. “Hah. Wolf wearing a skirt,” he muttered, noting Teagan’s attire.

As with most of her clothes, Teagan’s skirt and crop top were adjustable so that they could fit her easily in both human and wolf form. “Wolf wearing a skirt,” she agreed, and her tail wagged. Then in a whirl of magic, she shifted back to human.

“Werewolf life.” Oliver nodded approvingly.

“Exactly. Now what should we do for dinner?” Teagan asked.

“We could order a meal from room service? Now that I’m in wolf form, I don’t think it’s very safe for me to be seen in public. And of the town’s restaurants, I don’t think many would allow pets.”

“Pets…? You’re my pet. I’ll keep you safe.” Sitting down and leaning against the bed, Teagan put a finger under Oliver’s collar and pulled him closer. He didn’t resist at all, and looked rather pleased as she proceeded to pat him on the head and back. “Good wolfy boy!”

Oliver nodded. “Yes. So as I was saying… dinner plans?”

Teagan thought about it, then offered a counter suggestion. “We could buy some street food from the market square, and just find somewhere to sit and eat. Or we could play it safe, and you wait here while I’ll go buy back food to the room here. Either way works for me.”

Oliver thought about it. Teagan expected him to prefer the safer option—the one that didn’t involve him taking the risk of being seen—but unexpectedly, he chose the other way. “I’ll go with you. No point in me just waiting here, hiding away from the world. I’ll never learn to control my shifts like that, or get used to what I am now. Let’s go look around town.”

Teagan beamed. “Yeah, come with me! Let’s have some fun. Time for a wild night out in the town. Alright!”

“Going out for dinner doesn’t equate to having a wild night,” Oliver replied, but he had a smile.

“It could, if you want it to.” Teagan threw on her cloak, and grabbed a small sling bag that had been in her violin case, then she beckoned for Oliver and they both headed for the door. She sat down to pull on her shoes, while Oliver waited patiently.

“Can’t let the inn staff see me,” he said.

Cautiously Teagan cracked open the door and peaked out, checking the corridor. “All clear!” Together, they hurriedly slipped out and headed for the back stairway.

TO BE CONTINUED

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