shock my body. I want to get used to it and more than anything I want to remember what happens when I’ve transformed. I breathe in slowly and I tell myself to stay aware. I hold my breath in and then let it out in a long, steady stream and allow the adrenaline to flood through me.
* * *
i see the deer. the animal i’m in follows after her. he’s totally silent, keeping low, only moving when he’s sure he won’t be spotted. the deer stops. her ears twitch. she raises her head and looks around. she’s beautiful. i don’t want to kill the deer but the animal i’m in is bunching his hind legs, ready to charge forward. i say to him, “no, don’t kill her.” i’m calm, talking to him quietly, trying to tame him. the deer tenses. she’s sensed something and she bends, ready to jump away, as he leaps at her and i’m shouting at him, “no, no”—
* * *
I wake up. It’s still dark. I know by the taste in my mouth that the deer was dinner. My hands and face are covered in blood and, raising my head, I see its remains near me. I remember some of what happened. I remember hearing the deer when I was me, in my human body, and I remember the animal adrenaline rising, and I must have transformed but I don’t remember that. No, I don’t remember any of that. I do remember that I tried to stop him attacking her. I was shouting at him from inside his body but the animal I’m in didn’t listen. He killed her anyway.
I feel the deer’s body: she’s still warm.
I find a calm pool in the river to wash in and then I lie down near it. I can’t sleep now. I’m not tired but I’m confused. The animal didn’t pay any attention to me. He is me but isn’t me. He killed the deer even though I didn’t want him to. He does what he likes.
* * *
When it’s light I go to the castle to look for Van. I’m frustrated by my Gift; I’m frustrated by everything. We’re not getting closer to helping Annalise, and Gabriel needs to get back to his witch form. I stomp from kitchen to dining room, music room to ballroom to gunroom, eventually coming across Nesbitt, who says, “Van’s in the study. She’d like a word.”
I head the way Nesbitt has come, pushing open a heavy oak door, and am greeted by, “You look like you could do with one of these.” Van lights a cigarette and offers me one but I shake my head.
The study is wood-paneled. There’s a large desk made of chrome and black glass, covered with rows of plates. I go over to take a closer look. On each small plate is a heap of different-colored material. The piles are mostly fine grains, herbs perhaps, but some are coarser than others and some look like large seeds.
I reach out to touch one of the piles. “Please don’t,” Van says and I withdraw my hand. She’s sitting on a chair at the side of the room and is dressed in a pinstriped man’s suit today. “I’ve been working on the potion for Gabriel, finding the correct combination of ingredients.”
“You’ve got it?”
“Yes, now that the final two ingredients are here.”
“Which are . . . ?”
“The rain that fell when we were in Geneva is one. Nesbitt collected some of it: fallen at night, at full moon.”
“That really makes a difference?”
She looks at me as if I’m mad. “Everything makes a difference, Nathan.”
I remember my gran said that plants’ properties were different depending on the cycle of the moon when they were picked, so I guess rainwater could be different too. And why not anything else? My healing abilities change with the moon.
“And what’s the other ingredient?” I ask.
“Oh, I think you know that,” Van says, and stubs out her cigarette.
And the way she says it and looks at me gives me the feeling that something of me is the ingredient. “My blood?” I guess.
Van smiles up at me. “Oh no, dear boy—it’s much darker than that. We need to use your soul.”
Magical Mumbo-Jumbo
I’m sitting behind the desk in Van’s study, watching her
* * *
i see the deer. the animal i’m in follows after her. he’s totally silent, keeping low, only moving when he’s sure he won’t be spotted. the deer stops. her ears twitch. she raises her head and looks around. she’s beautiful. i don’t want to kill the deer but the animal i’m in is bunching his hind legs, ready to charge forward. i say to him, “no, don’t kill her.” i’m calm, talking to him quietly, trying to tame him. the deer tenses. she’s sensed something and she bends, ready to jump away, as he leaps at her and i’m shouting at him, “no, no”—
* * *
I wake up. It’s still dark. I know by the taste in my mouth that the deer was dinner. My hands and face are covered in blood and, raising my head, I see its remains near me. I remember some of what happened. I remember hearing the deer when I was me, in my human body, and I remember the animal adrenaline rising, and I must have transformed but I don’t remember that. No, I don’t remember any of that. I do remember that I tried to stop him attacking her. I was shouting at him from inside his body but the animal I’m in didn’t listen. He killed her anyway.
I feel the deer’s body: she’s still warm.
I find a calm pool in the river to wash in and then I lie down near it. I can’t sleep now. I’m not tired but I’m confused. The animal didn’t pay any attention to me. He is me but isn’t me. He killed the deer even though I didn’t want him to. He does what he likes.
* * *
When it’s light I go to the castle to look for Van. I’m frustrated by my Gift; I’m frustrated by everything. We’re not getting closer to helping Annalise, and Gabriel needs to get back to his witch form. I stomp from kitchen to dining room, music room to ballroom to gunroom, eventually coming across Nesbitt, who says, “Van’s in the study. She’d like a word.”
I head the way Nesbitt has come, pushing open a heavy oak door, and am greeted by, “You look like you could do with one of these.” Van lights a cigarette and offers me one but I shake my head.
The study is wood-paneled. There’s a large desk made of chrome and black glass, covered with rows of plates. I go over to take a closer look. On each small plate is a heap of different-colored material. The piles are mostly fine grains, herbs perhaps, but some are coarser than others and some look like large seeds.
I reach out to touch one of the piles. “Please don’t,” Van says and I withdraw my hand. She’s sitting on a chair at the side of the room and is dressed in a pinstriped man’s suit today. “I’ve been working on the potion for Gabriel, finding the correct combination of ingredients.”
“You’ve got it?”
“Yes, now that the final two ingredients are here.”
“Which are . . . ?”
“The rain that fell when we were in Geneva is one. Nesbitt collected some of it: fallen at night, at full moon.”
“That really makes a difference?”
She looks at me as if I’m mad. “Everything makes a difference, Nathan.”
I remember my gran said that plants’ properties were different depending on the cycle of the moon when they were picked, so I guess rainwater could be different too. And why not anything else? My healing abilities change with the moon.
“And what’s the other ingredient?” I ask.
“Oh, I think you know that,” Van says, and stubs out her cigarette.
And the way she says it and looks at me gives me the feeling that something of me is the ingredient. “My blood?” I guess.
Van smiles up at me. “Oh no, dear boy—it’s much darker than that. We need to use your soul.”
Magical Mumbo-Jumbo
I’m sitting behind the desk in Van’s study, watching her
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