Gorty moved closer to her. “Course they say that, Sparks. Why do you say it? You hate yourself so much you have to love them?”
She said quietly, “I’m trying to be fair. That’s all. You got along with elves and halfies at Castle Pup.”
Gorty said, “They were different. The fact they were at Castle Pup said they were different. Didn’t last. As for the rest of ‘em—”
“What’s it mean that you’re in the Pack now?”
“I’m not—” Gorty shook his head as if to clear it. “I’m hanging with my own. Got a problem with that?”
Q. Paul said, “Ease on, Gort-man. Some see it clear, some don’t.”
Taz looked at me. “What do you make of this, Kennel King?”
I shrugged. I wasn’t in the mood for one of those arguments in which everyone knows no one will change their mind.
Florida took my hand. “Woofboy’s human, an’ he’s my friend.”
The Packers stared at me. I shrugged and touched Florida’s shoulder again.
Gorty said, “Funny kind of human.”
Taz said, “A curse?”
“A curse?” Gorty repeated. Then he said it louder. “A curse?” He began to laugh, and told me, “Your little buddy there put a—” He looked at Florida and stopped laughing. “Don’t mess with me, Florida. I always treated you decent.”
Taz was still watching me. “And you still hang out with elves, even—”
Sparks said, “Florida didn’t—” She stopped when I raised my hand.
I nodded at Taz.
“Why not?” said Q. Paul. “Once they’ve turned you into a dog, what can they do that’s worse?”
“Take him to the vet and get him fixed,” said Gorty, grinning again.
Taz glanced at him. “Try being the strong and silent type, Gorty.”
He said, “For two simpleminded elf-lovers and one little elf? Why—”
“Now,” said Taz. She swung a leg onto her bike, a black Moto Guzzi with a gray spellbox wired into the engine. “Where’s your doc?”
Sparks said, “Corner of First and First.”
Taz nodded. “You got bikes?”
Sparks shook her head.
“Ride with us.”
Gorty straddled a dented brown Kawasaki racer and rocked the throttle, making the engine scream once. Then he looked at Florida. “Willin’ to ride with me?”
She looked up at me. I shrugged.
Gorty said, “If I’d known it was you, Florida, I would’ve jumped your shaggy bud that much faster. We didn’t know he was friendly.”
Florida lifted both shoulders very high, dropped them, and said, “Oh, okay.”
Q. Paul swept his hand toward a dark green Ariel and told Sparks, “My steed awaits, m’lady.”
I frowned as Sparks laughed. Taz snapped her fingers; when I looked, she said, “Okay, Nanook of the North, you’re with me.” I sat behind her, not quite sure what to do with my hands. “If you don’t bite, I won’t either. Hang on.”
Q. Paul passed his helmet to Florida. Taz put on hers, black with a black scarf glued to its top. Gorty didn’t have one—big surprise, that.
The bikes were loud, the night was cool and dark. I sat with my arms tight around Taz and wondered if I liked that more than I disliked Sparks having her arms around Q. Paul. We cruised part of the way up Ho Street, past the clubs and the crowds. A few people gaped at me, so I grinned and waved.
•
Bordertown’s business section is usually dead at night. This night, I didn’t even see any Silver Suits on patrol. We might’ve been in the city right after the Change, when people had fled from the newly returned Elflands and no one from Faerie had begun to explore the World.
We headed up North First. Q. Paul laughed, pointed, and shouted, “Isn’t exactly shy, is he?”
An entire city block was lit by huge overhead lights—not the usual glow of magical lights, but the glare of electrical ones. Most of the block was a lake of concrete. At one end, seven or eight old automobiles in excellent shape were parked next to a low building with unbroken plate glass walls. On top of the building was a sign that said, MILO CHEVROLET—ALL OFFERS CONSIDERED!
I felt like I was looking at a piece of Bordertown’s past yanked into the present. But I wasn’t: In the World, that lot would have been full of this year’s vehicles, and no one would’ve crossed out ALL and neatly written above it, NO.
Taz said, almost sounding nervous, “Will he be up?”
Sparks grinned. “It’s night. Of course he’s up.”
The Packers parked their bikes on the sidewalk instead of rolling up to the building. Milo Chevrolet was supposedly one of B-town’s best magicians. We were all on our best behavior.
My fur tingled as I stepped onto the lot—a Magical Early Warning system is part of the Wolfboy package deal. I looked around quickly. Nothing had changed, not the world, not me.
“Coming, Woofboy?”
Deciding I was just tired, I nodded at Florida. As we passed the parked cars, I slowed to admire them and read their names: Rambler, Thunderbird, Mustang, Terraplane, Hawk, Roadmaster. It was like discovering a dinosaur zoo, complete with live dinosaurs, right behind your favorite restaurant.
I loped after the others. Within the boxlike building’s mirrored windows, shadowy versions of ourselves approached us.
Sparks pulled open the front door to call, “Milo? Up for some company? It’s a chance to play doctor.”
We heard his voice first. “Why, Sparks, I’m always ready to play doctor with—”
A halfie in a white lab coat stepped from behind a metal shelf at the far end of the room. His skin was as pale as any elf’s, but he wasn’t any taller than I am, his ears were just a little batlike, and a true elf would never have worn glasses with boringly practical frames and thick lenses.
He blinked at us all, then removed his glasses and wiped them while finishing his sentence, “—whatever injured kitten you’ve brought me.”
I looked from the halfie to Sparks. I could imagine how he’d meant to end his sentence before he saw she wasn’t alone. I didn’t like that, or him, just then.
Taz said, “Meow.” She turned around and cocked her hip. The wound had opened again. Below the cut through her jeans was a dark stain as big as my hand.
The halfie said, “Oh,” put his glasses back on, said, “Oh, my,” quickly began to remove the glasses, then stopped, nodded once to Sparks or to himself, and settled the glasses back onto his nose. “This is in a professional capacity, yes?”
“I thought you’d be grateful.” When he glanced at Sparks, she added, “It didn’t seem important enough to wake anyone at the Free Clinic.”
“What caused that?”
Florida held up her Bowie. “This.”
“Confused her with a pincushion? I’m not sure which of you I should treat.” Milo nodded. “Come in.” He turned and walked toward the back of the building.
We passed row after row of high metal shelves heaped with books and obscure electronic gear. Something whistled overhead. I glanced up. A model train, a perfect replica of the Bordertown Express that’d brought me from the World, ran on tracks laid from shelf to shelf.
Florida said, “Ooh, cool!”
Facing the main room were five or six smaller ones, each with a door to provide privacy and a window to prevent it. A rumpled bed and a wardrobe were in one; a refrigerator, a tabletop stove, a hot plate, and an electric wok were in another; a computer with a huge monitor was on a desk in a third; a workbench with painted lead figurines was in a fourth. Milo took us to a fifth, which held a dental chair and a doctor’s examination bench.
Taz stopped at the doorway. “I get a discount if everyone watches?”
“There’s no charge,” Milo said fiercely.
“I meant—”
“Oh.” He went into the room and drew a curtain across the window for privacy. “Enter freely, and of your own will.”
Taz looked from him to Sparks. Sparks
nodded. Taz shrugged and walked in. The halfie closed the door behind her.
We looked at each other. Florida yawned; I suspected I’d have to carry her home. Q. Paul went to a shelf and began to flip through a book on the paintings of Richard Dadd. Gorty, watching the model train circle the room, said, “I thought this Chevrolet guy was some hot magician.”
Sparks said, “He is.”
“So where’s the magic? This place could be smack in the middle of the World.” Gorty gave a smug smile, convinced that he’d made his point. I agreed with him, though I didn’t say so.
“Exactly,” said Sparks.
“Huh?” said Gorty.
She laughed and indicated the whole room with a sweep of her hands. “Where are we?”
I understood it then. My fur hadn’t tingled because magic was present when I’d stepped onto the lot. It’d tingled because magic was absent. The magic that washed in waves over Bordertown swirled around this one city block.
The first thing I felt was admiration for Chevrolet. No one could use magic against him when he was home. He could run his automobiles on his lot without needing to make spellboxes strong enough to power them. He could use electrical lights without worrying that they’d fail or explode. In a place where magic and science were undependable, he’d created a secure place for a magician by deflecting all magic from his home.
The second thing I felt was pity for myself. Even in a place without magic, I was still the Wolf. The magicians I had consulted about Leda’s curse were right: The spell was remarkably stable. What I’d feared had been proven a fact: Only Leda could turn me back into the geeky human kid I’d been. Only Leda, if anyone.
The third thing I felt was fear for Florida.
I walked to her side so casually that I must’ve been extremely conspicuous. She was looking through a pile of comic books. I took her by the shoulders and turned her away from the others so she faced me, and then, with my very best grin, I shifted her cotton cap to a rakish angle.
She frowned, but I ignored that. I rolled up the right sleeve of her T-shirt and then, holding my breath, the left.
Three moles formed a perfect triangle on her shoulder.
She stared at them. Still grinning, I shook my head in warning, rolled the left sleeve down, then the other, and gave her a thumbs-up of approval. Still she stared at me. I kept smiling as if everything was fine and shoved an Archie comic at her.
(For those of you who didn’t read Elsewhere, and for those who haven’t read it recently, let me say that some people were searching for the heir to the throne of Elflands, an elf recognizable by three moles in a triangle on one shoulder. A friend had helped us hide Florida from them by magically moving the three moles. Their reappearance on Florida’s shoulder made me more nervous than I dared to show.)
Gorty, watching me adjust Florida’s clothing, said, “Do I look good enough for you, Dog?”
Q. Paul said, “You don’t look good enough for anyone, Gort-man. But it didn’t bother us before; it won’t bother us now.”
Gorty swatted at Q. Paul with an open hand. Q. Paul laughed, jumped backward, and swung at Gorty, also openhanded. Before the fight could properly begin, Taz said, “I can’t take you guys anywhere.”
She and Milo stood in the examining room doorway.
Q. Paul said, “How’s your butt?”
Taz said, “Excellent, as always.” She glanced at Milo. “You sure I don’t owe you anything?”
Milo shrugged. “A little antiseptic, a couple of stitches. It’s nothing. Stay away from cactuses in big green T-shirts.” Florida giggled. Milo continued, “If it was a favor, it was for Sparks.”
Sparks said, “You wish.”
Taz nodded and looked at Sparks. “Do I owe you anything?”
Sparks blinked. “What? Of course not.”
Milo said, “I have tea.”
He announced it as if he had a rare disease that he was rather proud of. Sparks recognized it as an invitation. She shook her head, then jerked her chin toward Florida. “It’s late. We should go.”
“Oh.” Milo looked at Taz. “If you want to step off the lot, I could restore your pants to their pre-pincushion glory. And make that cut stop hurting you. I could make it disappear entirely, but it’s safer to let injuries heal themselves when that luxury’s available.”
“Why off the lot?” Taz asked.
Gorty said, “Because magic doesn’t rule here. Obviously.” He smirked, and Q. Paul laughed.
Taz squinted at them. “Since when’ve I been hanging with the Einstein twins?”
Gorty nudged Q. Paul with his elbow, and they posed side by side, arms akimbo, grinning widely.
Taz told Milo, “Thanks, but it doesn’t hurt much. And I kind of like the way the pants look.” She smiled at Florida. “Hey, fashion samurai, ask permission ‘fore you do any more alterations, hear?”
Milo walked us to the front door. “Would you like to see my cars? They’re gassed and ready—”
Sparks said, “It is late.”
“Oh. Yes. It is. But if there’s anything—”
Sparks glanced at me, and Milo followed her gaze. “Oh. Wolfboy, you’re not from these parts, I gather?”
I nodded.
Sparks said, “He’s human. There’s a curse on him.”
Milo’s spine suddenly straightened, adding a couple of inches to his height, and he smiled delightedly. “Oh! Really?” I was afraid he was going to start rubbing his hands together and cackling.
I nodded again.
“When did this happen?”
Notebook time. I pulled it out and wrote, A FEW WEEKS AGO.
“Have you seen anyone about it?”
I wrote, A KID AT MAGIC FREDDY’S. AND MS. WU.
Milo said, “The kid is Magic Freddy. He or Ms. Wu have any suggestions?”
I shook my head.
Milo nodded with satisfaction. “When you walk around town, does the spell weaken at all? Do you become more human sometimes without any warning? If you hit a place where magic isn’t working—”
I shook my head again.
“What happened when you came onto the lot?”
I wrote, A TINGLING. I GET THAT SOMETIMES WHEN PEOPLE ARE DOING MAGIC NEAR ME. I DON’T SEEM TO CHANGE PHYSICALLY.
“Mmm.”
Sparks said, “No suggestions?”
Milo said, “I didn’t say that.”
“Well?”
“You know who did this?”
I wrote, SHE’S GONE BACK TO THE ELFLANDS.
Milo said, “Too bad.”
Sparks said, “Why?”
Milo stared through me, as if he was seeing an interesting equation instead of me. “Well, if you can’t get her to lift the curse, and no one else is able to, and the curse doesn’t go away when magic is absent...”
“Rrr!” I growled.
Milo blinked, and it was as if a person had stepped in front of his blackboard. “Well, um, I guess it’d depend on how badly you wanted to break the curse.”
“Why?” said Sparks.
“Well, I don’t know anyone who’s tried this. Which is probably why Ms. Wu didn’t mention it.” He shook his head. “Forget I said anything.”
Florida said, “If Woofboy could help you, Milo Chevrolet, he would.”
He glanced down at her. “It’s not that I don’t want to help. But I forget, sometimes, that actions have consequences.” He waved at the surrounding walls. “That’s why I live here, where I have to leave the lot or let magic flow back in before I can cast a spell.”
Taz said, “Hey, he’s a big boy, Milo. Tell him and let him worry about his own consequences.”
He smiled sadly at her. “Isn’t always that simple.”
Taz said, “Yes, it is. Doesn’t matter what we know. Only matters what we do with what we know.”
Milo said, “This magician is in the Elflands?”
I nodded.
“Then it doesn’t matter, anyway.”
Sparks smiled and enc
ouraged him to continue speaking by making Come here motions with both hands.
Milo shrugged. “Ever hear anyone say, ‘Speed the caster, speed the spell’?”
Sparks frowned.
Q. Paul slapped his thigh. “Doo-dah!”
Gorty exhaled loudly. “Sheesh. Fruity magician’s talk. What’s that mean?”
Taz looked at me. “Means, to terminate the spell, terminate the magician.”
“Terminate?” Gorty said, and then, “Oh.”
Milo nodded sadly.
Chapter 3—Finders, Keepers
(Digression. Don’t complain; this is in parentheses.
(I’d thought I’d accepted being the Wolf for the rest of my life. In novels and movies and especially on TV, people decide to change the way they think about their lives, and ka-zang! they’re changed forever. From that moment on, they’re brave or honest or loyal, they’re no longer tempted by drugs or alcohol, they’re true to their lovers or kind to their kids, they no longer have doubts about God or work or life.
(In the real world, it’s not like that. Trust me. If you’re ever turned into a werewolf, no matter how well you think you’ve accepted it, some days it’s going to bum you big time. It’s the backslider’s blues.)
Sparks gaped at me, saying, “You couldn’t!”
Milo said, “There’s no guarantee it’d work.”
Florida said, “I liked Leda.”
Gorty said, “Leda did this? Man, I’m glad I never ticked her off.”
I grinned, which didn’t reassure anyone, then wrote, RELAX. LEDA DID ME A FAVOR. I GOT THE BEST HAIR IN B-TOWN NOW.
DON’T MAKE ME TELL YOU THAT AGAIN.
Gorty, reading over Sparks’s shoulder, said, “I don’t know about the hair. If you gotta be something creepshow, I’d pick Dracula. Who needs daylight, anyway?”
Taz said, “Oh, fur’s nice.” She touched the back of my arm. “Ummm.”
Sparks smiled, not jealous or condescending or anything, just like she thought Taz was doing something kind. I jerked my arm back and wrote, DON’T PITY ME.
Taz read that and laughed. “Pity? I’d trade places in an instant.”
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