by W. J. May
Tristan took his time, fiddling with the strap on his messenger bag as he fixed Simon with a taunting smile. “You know… I was surprised when you sat down with us today. But I have to admit, that was a lot more fun than we normally have at lunch.”
Simon gritted his teeth and fumed while Argyle cowered meekly by his side. “Had a bit of a laugh, did you?”
Tristan cocked his head to the side. “I thought the whole point of being friends was that we endeavor to enjoy each other’s company.”
“Here then, friend,” Simon reached innocently for Tristan’s bag, “let me help you with that.”
Tristan shrugged carefully out of reach, but maintained a little grin. In fact, he cast a sideways glance at his friend, and the grin grew exponentially wider. “We’ve gotta run. Got Luther next.” He backed a step away, but pushed Isaac forward. “Say goodbye to Simon.”
Isaac cast him a curious glance, but clapped Simon briskly on the shoulder. “See you later, man.” With that he headed out of the cafeteria, rubbing absentmindedly at his arm.
Tristan nudged the door closed with the tip of his shoe, and turned to watch the carnage.
At least that was the gut feeling Simon had as he watched Tristan.
A whipping wind roared by Simon’s ears. At least he thought it was by his ears… maybe it was in his head.
The sudden change hit him like a ton of bricks—the rush of feral energy coursing through his skin. At first, it felt like he was being ripped apart. The world blurred into a flash of light in front of him as the sound of a windstorm coursed through his ears. Then suddenly, his skin was stitching itself back together. Only stronger and fiercer than before.
…and shorter.
With a terrified whimper, he gazed up to see Argyle staring down at him in horror. A second later, Tristan’s head floated into view, looking like Christmas had come early.
“Oh shit, Simon…” Argyle trailed off.
“You’re a wolf.” Tristan grinned. “You’re welcome.”
* * *
Simon had never once contemplated how difficult it must be to make one’s way in the world with four legs and not a single opposable thumb among them.
He contemplated it now.
“Simon, get down!” Argyle called, racing up desperately behind him. “Stop that!”
But Simon couldn’t stop. The impulse to dig was overwhelming. And the impulse to sink his brand new fangs into Tristan Wardell was even greater. So there he stood balancing on two legs as the others ripped desperately at the glass-paned door Tristan had just escaped through.
“Simon! Someone’s going to hear you! Stop!”
With a bitter growl, Simon sank slowly back onto all fours, staring up at his friend with a glare that transcended the barriers of both man and beast.
“You’re pissed. I get that.” Argyle’s eyes widened as they took in the whole canine experience that was the new Simon Kerrigan. “Good news is…at least you already took your calculus exam. You’re not going to miss it on account of…well…this.”
A piercing bark echoed in the empty room.
“What? It was thirty percent of our grade!”
Another bark.
“Okay, okay, just calm down. Give me a second to think.”
Simon’s clothes were lying in a pile where he’d stood. Apparently, they didn’t disappear and re-appear on shifters like they did in the movies. He didn’t like to imagine what was going to happen when he finally managed to shift back.
If he finally managed to shift back.
As admittedly exciting as it was to be a wolf, now was neither the time nor place. Simon had only just gotten back from a last-minute leave of absence and he could only imagine how little patience the Privy Council would have for something like this.
‘Deranged Wolf Terrorizes Cafeteria, Kills One Obnoxious Boy.’
Yeah, they’d probably rescind his invitation to train.
“I’ve got it!” Argyle snapped his fingers suddenly. “I’ll take you to Dr. Stein. He can heal anything, right? Surely he can get you out of this!”
Simon shook his giant wolfy head back and forth. This wasn’t a malady; it was a transformation. There was nothing for Dr. Stein to technically heal.
Argyle sank down to his knees so they were on eye level. “What about Dean Robbins, then? Or maybe even Professor Lanford? Maybe they know some kind of solution?”
For a second, Simon was tempted. Lanford was undeniably the member of the faculty he trusted most. He could go to him with this, couldn’t he? Maybe it could be written off as some charming little dismissal. An ‘accidents happen,’ or ‘boys will be boys’ sort of thing.
Then he shook his head again with a low whine.
He couldn’t go to Lanford. Not after that talk they’d had that morning. Not after the professor had gone out of his way to give him support and encouragement. And coffee.
“Alright, no need to get emotional.”
Without seeming to think about it, Argyle reached out and started absentmindedly stroking the top of Simon’s head. Simon’s eyes narrowed as a warning growl started rumbling in his chest.
“Right. Sorry. Well, don’t panic, okay? There’s got to be some sort of precedent for this sort of thing.” He lowered his voice thoughtfully. “What did they do for that fish boy who couldn’t change back?”
Simon hung his head.
They put him in the pond.
It was quiet for a minute, and then Argyle suddenly pushed to his feet.
“Okay, then I see no other choice. Simon, there’s only one person we can realistically take you to in this…state.” He threw both of their backpacks over his shoulder, and tentatively pushed open the door. “Just don’t take off on me, okay?” There was a pause in his step, and he cast his friend a painful grimace. “And don’t rip my head off when you find out who it is…”
Chapter 10
To an outside perspective, it probably looked like a bizarre form of animal abuse. Argyle trying to control a rather large wolf that wouldn’t stop.
After a twenty-minute-long struggle, complete with an impromptu race around the pond, Argyle finally managed to loop the strap of his backpack around Simon’s neck, and was now dragging him towards the Oratory with all his might. Unfortunately, ‘all his might’ didn’t mean much when measured against the strength of a massive wolf, and along the way, he’d had to resort to all sorts of threats and curses to keep his friend in line.
In the end, it was only the solemn promise never to mention it to Beth that forced Simon into humiliated obedience. He followed along behind his friend through the wide swinging doors, nipping at his shoes every time Argyle jokingly told him to ‘heel.’
Jason was sitting in his office when they walked in, doing the boring paperwork part of PC spy-dom that Simon had never had the chance to see. Jason looked up in surprise when Argyle pushed open the door, his eyes resting first on the boy, and then on the wolf. One cocky eyebrow raised. “Oh, you really shouldn’t have.”
Smartass.
“Sorry, sir,” Argyle stammered at the ground as Simon—even as a wolf—managed to roll his eyes. “You’re, uh, Mister Archer, right? J-Jason?”
Jason studied the anxious boy curiously. “Yes, I am.”
“Good.” Argyle inadvertently tightened his hold on the backpack, catching Simon in a mild choke-hold. “The thing is…we’ve gotten ourselves into a bit of trouble.”
Jason raised his other eyebrow but said nothing.
“I know this isn’t really your responsibility, but we didn’t know where else to go—”
Jason finally held up to a hand to cut him off. “I’m sorry…we? Who the hell are you, kid? And who is we?” He cast a nervous look. “Tell me you’re not talking about the dog.”
Argyle blushed and looked down at the wolf. “Oh, yeah, I forgot—sorry. My name’s Argyle. I go to Guilder. And this…well, the thing is…this is actually—”
With the reckless abandon of one who no longer had anyt
hing left to lose, Simon tugged himself free and leapt into the air, landing right on top of all Jason’s paperwork.
“—Simon.”
It was hard to say which was stranger: the fact that Simon had somehow transformed into a creature of the forest, or the fact that Jason didn’t look remotely surprised.
A look of bemusement flitted across his face as he shook his head with a low chuckle.
“Simon, Simon, Simon…”
Wolf-Simon bared his teeth in threatening protest, but Jason simply waved him down into a chair. “Thanks, kid,” he said to Argyle. “I can take it from here.”
At first, Argyle looked hesitant to leave Simon alone. But after casting a final glance at the bizarre scene in front of him, he seemed to think it was a thing best left to the professionals. After giving Simon an apologetic wave goodbye, he slipped back out into the hallway and hurried outside as fast as his feet could carry him.
In the silence that followed, both Simon and Jason stared each other down.
Man and beast.
Both sitting in chairs.
Finally, when the awkward tension could stretch on no longer, Jason raised his eyebrows, looking uncharacteristically stern. “So, are you going to tell me what happened?”
Simon cocked his head to the side, staring uncertainly.
“Oh, that’s right… you can’t—because you’re a freaking dog.”
Another round of laughter filled the room. The longer it went on, the more it was punctuated with a series of increasingly annoyed yips from Simon.
“Tell you what,” Jason began, once he’d finally gotten a hold of himself, “why don’t I just guess what happened? You were out on a bit of an ego-trip, strutting around like you owned the school. You decided to antagonize the wrong person. Just judging by past events I’m going to guess Tristan Wardell, and he used one of his friends to manage to turn you into a dog.” His eyes sparkled as they locked with Simon’s canine ones. “Am I right?”
Simon jutted up his chin and made a conscious effort not to drool.
“Yeah, I thought so.”
Showing up at your mentor’s office after accidentally transfiguring yourself came with a bit of a lecture. Simon understood that going in. After all, what kind of Botcher, or teacher, would Jason be if he didn’t remind Simon not to turn into a dog every now and again? But now that the lecture was over, he expected some help. He was still walking around on all fours here—and the longer he stayed a wolf, the more those twittering birds outside were starting to sound delicious.
But Jason didn’t conjure up some sort of magic cure. He simply reached into his desk and pulled out a leash. “Come on, Kerrigan. We’re going for a walk.”
* * *
Talk about humiliation.
Simon had never experienced anything like it before. And this was coming from a boy whose half-blind nanny gave him haircuts for the first nine years of his life.
He’d been forced to hold perfectly still as Jason fastened a collar around his neck, and led him slowly past the agents training in the Oratory to the outside. Apparently, none of them thought the sight of Jason talking to a wolf was at all strange, because no one even looked up as they passed by. And thankfully, Tristan was not among them. But Simon’s good luck stopped there.
The second they got outside, he was right in the middle of campus. The collar was making the fur on the back of his neck stand up in a way that he felt was most unbecoming, and all at once he realized that even if he was to suddenly change back—he would be literally living the nightmare where you show up at school stark naked. Not that it looked like Jason had any plans to help him change back. He simply walked along at a contended stroll, occasionally reaching down to scratch Simon behind the ears.
If I get out of this, I’m never leaving my dorm again. He turned his head to gaze longingly at the blue jays dipping in and out of the pond. And if I don’t get out of this…I’m definitely going to eat one of those things.
“Hey, Fido! Enough with the birds.”
Simon looked around guiltily to see that Jason had led them over to the parking lot. He was holding open the door to his car and gesturing Simon inside with a look of restrained amusement.
“And don’t you dare scratch my upholstery. I have no problem murdering a dog.”
Simon snarled softly, but hopped up inside, lowering his head guiltily below the line of the windows as Jason climbed in beside him and started up the engine. For a second, the two of them silently debated whether or not Simon should wear a seatbelt, but in the end Jason just pulled out of the driveway with an indifferent shrug.
It was the strangest car-ride of Simon’s young life.
Where they were going, he had no idea. Save for a single question, “You want me to roll the window down so you can stick your head out?” Jason hadn’t spoken a word to him since they left the Guilder parking lot and headed off down the freeway. It wasn’t until they started to weave their way out of the rolling hills and make their way back to civilization that he even realized they were heading to London.
His ears perked up and his eyes darted around as they made their way into the city. Most people hated to drive the narrow little roads, but Jason didn’t seem to mind. He kept one hand on the wheel and one dangling out the window as he hummed a tuneless song under his breath.
Five minutes later, he pulled off suddenly onto the side of the road. They were deep within the city now, in a strip that bordered the residential with the industrial. It was here that Jason stepped out onto the curb and circled around to open Simon’s door for him.
Simon clambered out and looked around in wonder. He had never been to this part of the city before. His mother would have never allowed such a thing. It was a bit rougher than the places he had visited as a child, but it was exciting at the same time. There was always a shout, or a siren, or an argument just waiting to explode. To be honest, it was no place to leave this sort of car.
Jason navigated it all effortlessly as he led Simon up a crowded sidewalk. The sight of a giant wolf was much more startling here than it was at a place like Guilder, and the two of them got more than their share of looks as they headed towards some brick buildings at the end of the road. Once or twice someone began to approach them, but each time they would stop themselves and turn around. Whether it was because Jason didn’t look like a guy who would stop to entertain questions, or whether it was because Simon looked like he could dismember a grown man, they would never know.
It was only when they got to the front entrance of the apartment complex that Jason came to a sudden pause. He glanced down at Simon with mild apprehension, before sticking his key in the lock anyway. “Maybe she won’t notice,” he muttered under his breath.
Simon nudged him questioningly, and he shook his head with a sigh.
“If anyone stops us, just…I don’t know. Act like a poodle.”
A snicker of dog-like laughter escaped Simon’s lips as he trailed along behind his mentor up the tile stairs. Wolf or not, this afternoon had turned out to be a lot more eventful than he’d planned. Here he was, king of the forest, kicking it with Jason in the heart of the London underground. As panicked as he might be about the lack of clothes situation, it was hard not to see the humor in that.
They had almost made it to the top of the stairs, when a door whipped open suddenly on the other side of the hall. Jason’s shoulders tensed as a ninety-year-old woman came bounding forth, throwing her arms around him in an impossibly tight embrace.
“Jason! You’re home! Welcome back!”
Home? Simon took a step back in shock. Jason had brought him to his apartment?
While Jason might have been apprehensive to see her, when he pulled back his face lit up with a genuine smile. “Hey, Mrs. Mahdavi. It’s good to see you.”
He bent to almost half his height just so he could kiss her on both cheeks. But her eyes were no longer on him. They were fixed in fury at the creature standing next to him.
“Jason,” her li
lting voice sharpened to a dangerous edge, “what is that?”
Simon took a nervous step back as Jason took a simultaneous step to shield him.
“What?” he asked innocently.
An interesting tactic. Both Simon and Mrs. Mahdavi turned to him with the same look.
His face crumbled apologetically. “I’m sorry, it isn’t what it—”
“You know my only rule here, Jason. No dogs. After the schnauzer fiasco of ’92, my heart just can’t take it.”
Simon’s sides heaved with silent laughter, but Jason nodded solemnly.
“I know that. The dog isn’t mine. I’m watching it for a friend. It’ll be out of here in just a few hours.” His voice dropped several octaves. “And this will never happen again.”
Simon bowed his head and tried to look small. He figured that last part was for him.
“Alright,” Mrs. Mahdavi said reluctantly. “But just this once. And just because you’re my favorite.” She patted Jason’s cheek affectionately. “You know you’re my favorite.”
He grinned. “You’re my favorite, too.”
She blushed to high heaven, then swatted him on the back as she made her way back inside her apartment. “Now get out of here. And take that thing with you.” Before she shut the door, she turned and gave Simon a parting glare. “Filthy beast…”
Feeling a little offended, Simon turned and followed Jason up the remaining stairs. Once they were at the top, Jason pulled a giant ring of what had to be fifty keys out of his pocket. He studied them for a moment, carefully selecting the right one.
“Sorry,” he muttered, jiggling it coaxingly in the lock, “forgot where I was for a second.”
The door creaked open, and the two of them headed inside.
Simon’s eyes widened slightly as he looked around. It certainly wasn’t the kind of place he was expecting. Judging by the way Jason dressed and his fancy car, he’d have thought it would be the total bachelor pad. Pool table. Mini-bar. Black silk sheets on the bed. But it couldn’t have been farther from the truth.