And then I remembered something that sent an icicle right down my spine. It was something the night creature Ripper had told me. Grinning his horrible grin, he had snarled gleefully, “The wereing takes place over the three nights of the full moon.”
Only one night had passed.
I looked up as the sun dipped below the trees. Night fell quickly.
And the full moon was about to rise again.
Chapter 20
I had to leave, at least for the night. I couldn’t let anything happen to my wolf family because of me. Feeling sad, I slipped out of the clearing, away from the den. Only Sharpfang saw me go and he turned his back when I caught his eye.
Maybe nothing would happen this time. I hadn’t made my first kill, despite all the urging from the night creatures. Maybe that meant the wereing was over for me.
But even as I thought these things the tingling in my arms and legs started again.
The moon was just coming up.
It happened faster this time. Strange, awesome power surged through me like an electrical current. My body changed, growing stronger muscles, fangs and claws, and matted hair. I dropped to all fours, my fur skins falling to the ground, a growl starting deep in my throat.
Above me, a family of baby robins cheeped in a nest as their terrified mother flapped away. A sleeping snake woke and slithered off into the cold mud. I could hear everything alive, right down to the heartbeats.
I was a monster again.
I began to run through the night, my muscles flexing and stretching with pleasure. But this time the joy was spoiled by the thought of the night creatures. If I didn’t hide soon they would find me. And this time they wouldn’t let me escape.
If they got me tonight they’d make me kill in the moonlight, whether I wanted to or not. And that would make me a night creature forever.
I ran like the wind, faster than the birds that fled before me. Deeper into the swamp I went, deep into the bog, following my nose. I found my old hiding place, slipped into the water, and ducked beneath the cypress knees.
I was safe. If the werewolves followed my scent, they would lose it here. Maybe they’d think it was last night’s scent they’d tracked.
Shivering in the icy water, I felt alone in the world, and hopeless.
The hours ticked by. Was I wrong about the night creatures? Maybe they’d forgotten about their “little one.”
But sure enough, when the moon was high overhead, the foul beasts returned, snarling and screeching. They trampled the mud around my pool, snapping at each other in frustration.
“Little one, we know you are here,” howled the one called Ripper. “Once you have tasted blood you will not want to escape us. Come out, little one, come out!”
His cries hammered at my soul. I longed to leap out of the cold, murky water and join the night creatures in their dancing and howling. The power in me hungered and yearned and battered at my insides.
But I couldn’t become one of them. I wouldn’t!
Just before dawn the creatures melted away and I finally fell asleep.
This time the sun was higher in the sky when I woke up as plain little Gruff again. A weakling who was glad he hadn’t turned into a night creature forever.
Off in the distance I could hear the “Oooooooh!” howl of Wolfmother calling me back to the den.
When I finally dragged myself back to the only place I’d ever called home, Wolfmother was there to greet me. She rubbed her furry coat against my chilled skin to warm me and whimpered that she’d been worried.
I crept into the den and slept most of the day. Leaper and Snapjaw curled against me, nipping at my ears to wake me for play. But I was too tired.
One more night of the full moon. I shuddered to think of it. Warm as the den was, I still shivered with cold. But after tonight, I would be free.
Sharpfang woke me with a growl at sunset. He skipped out of reach when I tried to pat him.
This is the last night, I told myself as I trudged away from my family into the swamp.
Already my bones ached at the thought of more long hours hiding in the deep chill of the muddy pool. But it was the only way to make sure I didn’t end up a monster forever. For some reason the other werewolves wouldn’t enter the water even though I could. I knew I was safe there.
But that night I never made it to the safety of my pool.
Chapter 21
Darkness fell and at first nothing happened.
No tingling in my hands and feet, no jolt of energy. Maybe two nights was enough? Could the wereing be over?
I kept on, deeper into the swamp. But it was harder going as an ordinary Legwalker, without special powers and strength. Branches whipped at my face and roots kept catching at my feet.
It was so dark I couldn’t see a foot in front of me.
Dark. Of course! My heart sank. The moon was rising later. The wereing wouldn’t start until the light of the moon touched me.
I tripped in a mud hole and banged my knee on a rock as I went down. Dejected, I sat on a tree stump, rubbing my knee, noticing that all the normal night noises of the swamp had stopped.
I looked up just as the first rays of moonlight penetrated the trees. The shooting pain in my knee suddenly vanished. There was no tingling this time, just the rush of energy.
The wereing. It was happening!
Huge muscles roped my arms and legs, stretching and puckering the skin. Shaggy hairs sprouted on my back, chest, and belly. Curved claws sprang from my fingers. What was I so scared of?—it was great being a monster!
I threw back my head to howl at the moon. It seemed to shine for me alone.
As the satisfying howl died
