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The bleeding stopped. Bernard clasped her paw
in both of his. "Forgive me, my lady. If I don't survive this, find
Kryn. He will understand the situation. Don't let Allard near you
with his staff."

Charlotte gazed into his eyes and gripped his
hands. Her heart crept into her throat. "Bernard, I can't--"

He licked her nose. "You can, my love. You
don't realize how strong you are. Whatever happens to me, you will
triumph. Even if I--" His voice broke and he lowered his head.
"--even if I lose my mind."

She nuzzled his face, unable to speak. Death
and insanity had become stark realities, and in the next few hours,
she could very well encounter both. As they walked on, anguish
dragged at her muscles. She lagged behind Bernard, panting and
weeping inside.

Long before she was ready, Bernard halted and
pointed with a claw. "There is the mage tower."

A structure like a lighthouse stood in the
midst of a grassy field with a cobblestone road winding to its
foot. To Charlotte it looked foreboding, like a torturer's castle
from which no captive ever returned. She dropped to her belly and
whimpered.

"I have to go," said Bernard.

"I know," she whispered. He carried in his
head their only hope at regaining their human bodies, and only the
mages and alchemists could help them. But her heart cried a
warning.

"Stay hidden," he whispered. "The brush here
is thick, and you can watch without revealing yourself. If Allard
is there and uses the Staff on me, remain hidden until you are
certain he's gone. Then you may try to speak to them. I can't bear
to think of you trying to live alone out here, and at the very
least they will shelter you, as long as they know you can speak."
His voice trembled, and he wrapped his arms around her and buried
his muzzle in her thick neck fur.

Charlotte returned his embrace. Despite his
monstrous form and strength, his muscles trembled. Beneath the
wolf, he was still the small, scholarly man she had married, and he
had never before faced death.

Finally he withdrew and gave her a last
tender lick on the cheek. Then he pushed out of the brush and
walked across the green toward the tower.

Charlotte dug her claws into the forest floor
nervously. When Bernard was halfway to the tower, he rose and
walked on two legs. Perhaps he hoped to show his humanity by his
posture. At any rate, he reached the tower door unchallenged, and
rapped his claws three times on the wood.

Charlotte's attention was diverted by voices
and footsteps behind her, drawing closer by the second. The onion
smell of humans flooded her nose, as well as ozone and gunpowder.
Hunters!

She shrank down under the bushes and lay
still, hoping they would simply pass by. But one of them muttered,
"The trail is fresh. Look sharp, boys, they're probably in this
brush."

Five pairs of booted feet picked their way
toward Charlotte, following the trail she and Bernard had left. Her
constant dread spiked into true terror. They would find her and
burn her alive and she would never see Bernard again! A moan rose
in her throat before she could stop it.

The hunters halted. "It's there, in the
brush. Ready your weapons."

Charlotte's nerve broke. She covered her head
with both arms. "No! Please don't kill me! I've done nothing
wrong!"

None of the hunters moved. If only she could
see their faces! "Tie me or whatever you wish, but please don't
hurt me again!"

"Again?" said one of the men. "Show yourself.
Slowly."

Charlotte crept out of the brush, trembling
so badly she could scarcely move. Any second she expected to feel
the terrible liquid burn of another fireball, and her scar
throbbed.

The men wore the green-dyed leather of
professional hunters, and one bore the gold wings of a mage
embroidered on his left shoulder. All carried guns but the mage,
who pointed at her. "The white wolf! Macnair and I saw her down by
the coast, where the talking wolf warned us off!"

"I can talk, too," Charlotte said, terror
making her pant. "I won't hurt you, please don't shoot me!"

"What's your name, wolf?" a gunman asked.

"Lady Charlotte Preston, of Halfmoon
Manor."

"Preston!" exclaimed the mage. "Bernard
Preston's wife? Was he the one who yelled at us?"

Charlotte nodded.

"I told you he'd pioneered a cure!" the mage
told his fellows. "Let's take her to the tower at once!" He waved a
hand and a coil of rope appeared. "I'm sorry, Lady, but we must
bind your forepaws at the very least."

Charlotte sat on her haunches and extended
her arms, still expecting a fireball at any second. But a tiny ray
of hope gleamed in her heart for the first time. "Bernard already
went to the tower. He knows the elixir formula and wishes to pass
it on."

"Excellent!" said the mage as he bound her
wrists. He appeared barely five and twenty, with a sparse growth of
beard peppering his chin. She could scarcely believe that he had
cast the fireball that had scorched her back.

She rose to two legs and walked out of the
woods, surrounded by wary hunters. All this time, tension vibrated
within her like a plucked guitar string. Where was Bernard? Was he
safe? She had heard no ruckus from the tower, and he was not there
now, as they crossed the green toward it. Perhaps they let him
inside and all was well. They would open the door for her, and
inside Bernard would be surrounded by mages, all scribbling on
parchment as he dictated the elixir's ingredients.

As they neared the tower, the door opened.
Bernard bounded out on all fours. Behind him strode a gray-bearded
mage with a staff.

Charlotte halted and stifled a scream. Allard
didn't spare her a glance--all his attention was fixed on Bernard.
Bernard crouched on his belly and moaned. Then he snarled.

"Muzzle this one and take it to the pens,"
said Allard. "It's as vicious as the rest."

One of the hunters said, "Isn't that Bernard
Preston?"

Allard stared at Charlotte. "Perhaps it was,
once. What is this?"

Charlotte gazed at the snarling beast her
husband had become. Her grief rose like the tide, and broke on the
rocks of her indignation. While werewolves terrified her, a mere
man did not. So what if he wielded the power to destroy her? She
would defy him, for Bernard's sake.

She drew herself up and tilted her chin. "I
am Lady Charlotte Preston of Halfmoon Manor."

Allard glanced from her to the men around
her, as if calculating. Charlotte kept her face composed. The
hunters had spoken to her and knew her identity. If Allard used the
Staff to remove her sanity, the men would know and perhaps deduce
his intent to spread the curse to all Grayton.

Allard kept his staff on Bernard. "Take her
inside, then. I'll give this one to the wolf handlers."

As the men escorted Charlotte into the tower,
she stared after Bernard. He cast her a backwards glance, but there
was no recognition in his feral yellow eyes.

Chapter 9: Crushed hopes

The mage tower was divided into three floors,
accessed by a staircase that climbed from floor to roof in a
spiral. The first floor, where Charlotte entered, had the look of a
sitting room. Leather chairs, wooden tables, and inlaid liquor
cabinets. It stank of sweat, pipe smoke, and the sharp aroma of
brandy. Apparently the serious business of magic and alchemy took
place upstairs.

Two mages in blue robes stood with their
heads together in hushed conversation, and looked up as Charlotte
and her entourage entered.

"Another one?" said an older man, whose gaunt
face belied the opulence of the room. "Why is it not muzzled?"

"I need no muzzle," said Charlotte.

The two mages stared at her. Her captors
explained the situation, while Charlotte clenched her teeth to
restrain her own questions about Bernard. Why had they allowed
Allard near him with the Staff? Didn't they know who he was?

"That was Bernard Preston?" said the older
mage. "Allard was nearest the door, so he opened it and used the
Staff immediately."

The weight of despair crushed upon
Charlotte's shoulders. "He did not have a chance to speak?"

"No," said the other mage, eying her. He was
a short, stocky man with a dark complexion. "I regret it deeply,
because I'm his close friend."

"You are Kryn?"

He nodded.

"Did you receive his potion instructions,
then?"

Kryn shook his head. "My scroll stone never
received a message. Perhaps he forgot to send it."

Charlotte's heart sank.

Kryn looked at his fellow mages. "She may be
a wolf, but she is still a lady! Would you like a cup of tea,
ma'am?"

They untied her hands, warily. Charlotte
carefully sat in a chair, which felt strange and off-balance in her
wolf body. She accepted a steaming cup, but the scent was foreign
and unappetizing. Agony over her husband hummed within her.

"Kryn," she exclaimed, "while the elixir
restores a man's mind, the Alpha Staff removes it."

To her shock, Kryn and the other mages
nodded. They had taken seats around her with their own tea, keeping
watch.

"Allard has been teaching us to make our own
Alpha Staves," said Kryn.

Charlotte scanned their somber faces. "But
why? When there is a cure so close?"

"It is not a cure," said another mage. "At
best, it is a treatment with effects easily overpowered by
magic."

Black fog swirled through her brain. She
fumbled through it, seeking understanding. "But--then you agree
with Allard's attempt to curse all of Grayton?"

"Ma'am," said Kryn, leaning forward, "the
curse has spread to most of Grayton already. We cannot hope to stop
it--therefore we must control the beasts."

"But if Allard cast the curse--"

"He did not," said the gaunt-faced mage. "The
curse was placed upon one man by a demon. Allard merely replicated
it for his own uses. None of us have the power to lift the
curse--only manipulate it."

The mages had sided with Allard. Bernard was
lost. Charlotte dug her claws into the fur on her cheeks. "But if
the elixir could be made, what then? Would you bring men back to
their right minds, only to control them when it suited you?"

Kryn's face darkened. "If a man has control
of his mind, mere magic will not strip it from him. Whatever else
you may think, Bernard must not have truly have retained his
sanity."

Her thoughts flew to the days and nights of
Bernard hunting for her, keeping her warm, slowly articulating his
feelings. He had been human! But he had also enjoyed being a
wolf...

"No," she whispered. "He was himself. But I
fear he embraced the wolf too readily. It was how we survived."

Kryn stared at her. "What about you,
ma'am?"

Hot anger surged through her. She rose to her
feet and set aside the teacup. "I may look like a monster, sir, but
I am Lady Charlotte Preston."

The door opened and Allard stepped in,
gripping his staff. Charlotte faced him, and he raised his staff as
a warning.

"Archmage," said Charlotte, "are you going to
strip me of my humanity, too?"

Allard smiled, but his eyes were hard. "I
don't understand what you mean."

Charlotte's fingers curled into claws. "You
tried to burn Bernard alive when your staff did not immediately
harm his mind. Will you seek to destroy me, as well?"

The room was silent. The other mages stared
at Charlotte and Allard.

But Allard smiled. "He threatened me. What
else could I do? If you threaten me, I will restrain you as
well."

Charlotte suddenly was aware of how tall she
was, of the sharp tips of her teeth, and the strength of her
muscles. She could rip Allard into bite-sized pieces.

But that would not help Bernard.

She drew a breath and restrained her
murderous urges. "Take me to Bernard. And if I can return him to
his senses, you will destroy these accursed staves."

The mages murmured dissent.

"Very well, my lady," said Allard, the words
mocking on his lips. "I will escort you to the pens. If he tears
out your throat, we will keep our staves."

Chapter 10: Confrontation

An empty reservoir had been converted to an
enormous holding pen for werewolves. Twenty feet deep and spanning
several acres, its edge was lined with wooden fencing angled
inward.

Inside, wolves paced everywhere, restless.
From this distance they looked like mere animals. Charlotte stood
at the gate and tried to identify Bernard, but he was lost in a sea
of gray fur. Her heart quailed.

"Well?" said Allard. "Go find him."

Charlotte cast him a sidelong glance, ears
laid back, the hint of a snarl tugging at her lips. "I shall. And
when we return, you shall be shown for what you are."