Your sister’s pet hamster. Go to chapter 5.
Your weird next-door neighbor’s pet ferret. Go to chapter 6.
It’s not that easy to catch a fly. You open the window of your bedroom and wait by the sill. After about twenty-five minutes of trying to snatch one out of midair and coming up empty, you get smart. You put out a bowl of sugar water and wait. As soon as a fly lands, you snag him.
In your cupped hands, the fly buzzes furiously, but you concentrate. The fly settles into your palm. When you’re done acquiring the morph, you let it go.
Marco didn’t say anything about the morph being scary. But it is.
Suddenly, the ground rushes up at you. You’re shrinking right out of your clothes. At the same time, your bones begin to make this funny crunching noise. It sounds like you’re jumping on Styrofoam.
A leg grows out of your stomach! Then another leg! You fall facefirst on the carpet. You try to break your fall with your arms, but they are already turning transparent and papery. You hear an odd humming noise, and you realize that it’s your wings, beating.
You can’t see. Or rather, you can, but you see fractured images. You sense something gray and plump and interesting nearby. Thanks to the sticky pads on your feet, you walk right up a wall toward it.
Spider! You want it. You want to eat it. Chomp down on that plump, juicy body, and —
No! your mind screams. Focus. The spider probably has a web. And you don’t want to get caught. You have a mission.
Your wings beat furiously, as if you aren’t even directing them. Zoom — you’re out the window, buzzing in a blur of green and blue. You head back toward the yard, where your sister’s party is in full swing.
You land on the picnic table. The kids around you are a blur of colors. You pick up Mom’s voice. She’s talking to her best friend, Emily.
“Lexie wanted a store-bought ice-cream cake this year,” she is saying. “I’m trying not to feel hurt. I guess she’s growing up.”
Emily laughs. “Kids. Mine would take a box of macaroni and cheese mix over my pasta any day.”
Good news! Mom wasn’t being weird. She was just doing what Lexie asked for. Maybe she’s not a Controller!
Suddenly, a gust of wind sends your wings quivering. What —
Crash! A fly swatter misses you by inches! Mom is trying to swat you! You buzz up angrily, and she swats the air.
“Darn flies!” she says.
Cake! The sugary smell overwhelms you, and you can’t resist. You just want to land for a moment, taste a bit …
But Mom swats at you again, and the gust throws you off balance. One wing dips into the frosting. You flutter it furiously, trying to get the goop off. It’s making you slow and heavy, and Mom is coming with the fly swatter!
You zoom upward to escape the swatter. You buzz over the heads of the children, toward the cool shade of the tree, and —
Zap! You hit a bug zapper. You’re fried!
Bad morph! Go back to the end of chapter 3 and try again!
Your hamster heart beats furiously. You’re scared. You’re scared of everything. Everything is bigger Everything wants to eat you. You hide behind what, as a human, you’d consider a large hedge. But it’s only a leaf of a geranium.
Morphing Hamlet, Lexie’s hamster, was a weird experience. It was like being put through a meat grinder, minus the pain. Not that you’ve ever been put through a meat grinder. But try hearing your bones crunch. It’s not the most pleasant experience.
But you do like the fur. You groom yourself, liking the glossy feel. But you have work to do. You creep closer to hear what Mom is saying to her friend Emily.
“I guess I should take a slice of cake to my neighbor,” Mom says with a sigh. “If I don’t, she’ll come over and complain about the noise.”
Just then, you smell danger. Your heart beats even faster, and you burrow into the dirt to hide. The ground shakes.
“Excuse me! This noise! Very loud!” your neighbor, Ms. Humphries, calls. A ferret is draped over her neck. The neighborhood kids call her the Ferret Lady.
Actually, you like ferrets. But as a hamster, you’re terrified.
“Let me get you a piece of cake, Alice,” your mom says. “It’s Lexie’s birthday.”
“I can see that,” Ms. Humphries sniffs. But she stays for the cake. “Hmmm. Store bought.”
“Lexie wanted ice-cream cake,” Mom says.
“Well, it looks delicious,” Ms. Humphries says, suddenly sounding nice. “Quite a treat. Speaking of treats, perhaps you and your friend would like to come to a meeting tonight. Just neighbors and friends. Good food. Lots of fun.”
A meeting! Could it be The Sharing? You take a few cautious steps out from your burrow.
“It sounds lovely,” Mom says, surprised. The Ferret Lady has never issued an invitation before. All she does is complain about noise. “But we’re going to a book group tonight.”
“My meeting sounds much more fun,” Ms. Humphries says. You creep forward another few inches, straining to hear. You should have picked an animal with better hearing!
“It’s called —” Ms. Humphries begins.
But before she can finish, dirt flies and a paw suddenly swipes out. How could you have forgotten that when you see Ms. Humphries, her cat Gingerbread is never far behind?
Swipe, claw, chomp! You’re dessert.
Bad choice. Why do you think hamsters stay in cages? Try again.
You’ve always liked ferrets. And it’s pretty cool being one. You can’t see very well, but your hearing is quite excellent. And you feel so … happy. Playful as a kitten, but friendly, like a dog.
You leap up on an ottoman, twinkle across the back of a sofa. Being a ferret
