by Cutter, Leah
“You stay here,” Rudi instructed Lukas. “I’m sure everything is fine.”
Kate clipped the leash to Lukas’ collar and started walking away. Lukas dragged his heels, but there wasn’t anything he could do. He had to trust that Rudi would find Sally and guard her.
He’d never hated his curse so much in his entire life.
# # #
After the sitter had gone, Lukas dragged his dog bed out to the front vestibule so he could sleep next to the door. He woke up every time the hallway door opened or when someone walked by. But he didn’t know what else to do.
Two nights later, a low growl in the hallway outside Sally’s door woke Lukas from a sound sleep.
Was that a shadow? He didn’t smell any, but then the growl came again.
Without hesitation, Hamlin rose up, and they transformed into his natural shape, much larger and more deadly than the little Scottie dog.
To all except the shadows.
Claws scratched the door, then a key.
Hamlin growled low and deep in his throat, a warning to any who would trespass.
The door sprang open and Hamlin tensed, ready to jump.
Rudi stood in the doorway.
Rudi, who could never know Lukas’ secret.
“So, it is true,” Rudi said.
Chapter Seven
Seattle, Present Day
Rudi
Rudi stared at the hound in front of him, lit only by the hallway light, half in shadows. It was the prince, Lukas. The hound stood frozen in the entranceway to Sally’s apartment, hackles raised, still growling. Though part of the prince stood in shadow, Rudi could still see enough to know just how big a hound the prince was: Not just a large breed, but giant class, like a Great Dane or an Irish Wolfhound.
This hound smelled different than the Scottie dog. Instead of a sweet, milky, young-dog scent, the prince now smelled more like a greyhound: musky, with a cooler thread running through it, like steel.
Rudi had heard rumors about how gangly the prince’s true hound nature was, how he looked more like a mongrel than a purebred. It was the jaw that gave him that look, strong and out of proportion with the triangular, greyhound face. Maybe his nose gave that impression as well—Lukas had the nose of a scent hound, larger than normal, with the hanging ears, too, to help capture any scents. His eyes were the same startling blue as a husky’s. He had a brindle color pattern, with gray stripes against a dark brown coat.
However, when the prince shook himself, turned, and walked away, he moved with the graceful gait of a hunter, silent and swift.
Rudi closed the door and asked, “Why have you been hiding so long?” He walked further into the apartment, switching on a light. “Why did you pretend to be stuck?” Because Rudi was certain that if Lukas could change from one hound breed into another, he could also transform into his human form. “You’ve been playing at this for ten years.”
What had happened at the court that would make a boy—such a young boy—hide for so long?
The apartment looked comfortable enough, with a long, olive green couch that ran along one wall. The far end was where the prince, as a Scottie, generally sat. A large basket of toys sat next to the electronics cabinet, that the prince had mouthed and played with.
“You could have told me. I would have kept your secret,” Rudi added. “I should have known, though, when you showed me you could read.” He’d just thought the boy’s soul had been rising more, maybe earlier in the evening instead of just at midnight, and had hoped the prince would come all the way back to them.
“Sally is fine, by the way. Her boyfriend, Peter—her fiancé, now—is a full raven warrior, and going to take over the Ravens’ Hall. They were the ones who told me that you could change shape.”
The prince returned to where Rudi stood with his leash in his mouth, then dropped it at Rudi’s feet.
“Still not talking, eh?” Rudi picked up the leash. “I’ll just carry this.” He hoped that by showing the prince that he trusted him not to bound off, maybe the prince would trust him a little more.
Rudi would be able to track the prince if he stayed in this hound shape, or if he changed back into the Scottie. However, if he changed into a different form, Rudi would lose his scent. It explained why Rudi hadn’t always been able to track Lukas when he slipped out of the fence: He’d never imagined that the prince could transform into different hound forms.
The night was cool—summer was still a few weeks away. Dark, quiet houses lined the streets. The prince led the way, walking quickly down the hill, moving with an unnatural directness.
Generally, only humans walked such straight lines. Dogs ambled, and as a Scottie, the prince had always emulated that behavior, wandering from one side of the sidewalk to the other, catching new scents.
Finally, the prince nosed open the gate to a pea-patch community garden, a place where people living in the nearby apartment buildings could have a bit of earth to grow things. Though it had rained most of the day, Rudi could still scent that the prince, as the Scottie, had been there many times before.
The garden itself smelled of wet ground and hearty herbs that had weathered the Seattle winter, rosemary and sage. Cedar chips covered the path. If it had been daylight, Rudi would have been able to see the brilliant begonias instead of just catching a whiff of their sour scent.
In the darkest part of the garden, away from the streetlights and hidden by ferns from the closest neighbor’s window, the prince stopped, then turned and faced Rudi.
After sniffing the air again to make sure they were alone, Rudi encouraged his hound soul to come closer, both to chase away the darkness but also so that they’d both see.
The prince gave a great shake, then lowered his head.
Rudi caught his breath, waiting. What was the prince going to do?
The mottled fur melted away, revealing pure, pale skin underneath.
“Oh,” Rudi exclaimed softly as the prince changed before him, regaining his human form, becoming Lukas.
If the prince has been gangly as a hound, Lukas retained that as a boy—no—a man, now. His hair was long, black, and curly, falling into eyes that retained that searing blue color. He was wiry, but he had a strong chest and powerful legs. He looked so much like his father, the king.
Lukas’ expression was pure sorrow, though. “Remember their scent,” he commanded.
“What—”
Shadows attacked the prince. Rudi automatically took a step backward, then swore and took a step forward.
Lukas held up his hands, indicating that Rudi shouldn’t come closer. Then Lukas closed his eyes and pressed his lips together, twitching where the shadows spread across him, grimacing in pain.
Rudi had never seen such an abomination. The shadows were like filth, trying to stain the clean skin of the prince, to get inside him and taint him. They turned the pale pink skin gray where they lingered, sucking the life out of it.
However, Rudi did as he’d been instructed: He stayed still and breathed deeply so that both his human and his hound soul would recognize and remember the scent.
It was a wet smell, moldy and ancient, like a ruined graveyard sitting next to an apple orchard where the fruit had been left to rot. Bitter magic curled through the scent, reminding him of Lady Metzler.
This wasn’t a natural attack. It was magical. Someone had cursed the prince.
After a short while, less than a minute, the prince shrank back down into his Scottie dog form. He shook the shadows from him, like a dog shedding water.
“Oh, my prince,” Rudi said softly, kneeling down. “Who cursed you? Why? Do you know?”
Rudi had thought he’d been protecting the prince from the court, from any hounds who might harm him. He hadn’t realized that the attack had already come and gone.
With a soft woof, the prince led the way to an old sewer grate. He swiped away the wet leaves with his paws, planted his feet deliberately, then gave another soft bark.
“What is it?�
� Rudi asked, guilt wracking him. He thought he’d been doing such a fine job. Now, he knew that he’d been barely adequate.
The grate had been imprinted with the words, “Property of King County.”
The Scottie’s paws framed the word “King.”
With a horrified whisper, Rudi asked, “Was it the king who did this? Who ordered this done?”
The prince shook his head no. He nosed a leaf back onto the grate, partially covering the “N” in “County.” Then he replaced his paws.
“Count?” Rudi guessed. Then he looked again. “Court. Someone at court.”
The prince gave a soft bark and wagged his tail.
Rudi knelt down next to the little dog, his prince, whom he’d failed so badly. “I will go to the court and find out who cursed you. I will make them reverse it. I promise you this.”
The little dog cocked its head to one side and gazed up at him.
The look was cute, endearing, and completely heartbreaking at the same time. Rudi grieved that any boy, let alone a prince of the hound clan, should be forced to stay in this form, unable to grow up as he should have.
Finally, the prince nodded once. Then he surged forward and licked Rudi’s nose, as if he’d been forgiven.
However, Rudi knew he’d never forgive himself for not hounding the prince about this secret sooner, for not doing more for his charge.
# # #
The official story given out from the court about Lukas was that he’d been taken to a safe, hidden location to live out the rest of his days as a dog. Oscar, Lukas’ cousin, had been training to be the heir since before Lukas had been born. The ministers in the court could, of course, decide to choose someone else, but Oscar was a purebred greyhound, an eloquent speaker, and well-liked.
Rudi has always assumed that the court knew that he had the prince, and that they knew Lukas was safe. That’s what Lady Metzler had told him, all those years ago.
Still, Rudi took no chance, doing everything he could to hide his home so no one could track him. He didn’t want to leave Seattle just yet, and he wasn’t sure Lukas would leave without Sally.
On the first leg of Rudi’s trip, to New York, he traveled with almost nothing: A paperback book and a burner cell phone, programmed to accept just one number, from Sally. Once he got there, he took advantage of a Turkish sauna, steaming and soaking all the scents from his skin, so no one could track him back to Seattle. Then he dressed in all new clothes, leaving the old ones in the locker he’d rented, not touching them again.
No trace of any scent of Seattle remained by the time Rudi boarded the plane to Hamburg. He traveled under his own name, on a direct flight. The hounds knew him, and any additional subterfuge would raise questions.
The flight was uneventful: No shadows chased Rudi, even in his dreams.
Only awake did the horror revisit him. When a cloud passed over the sun, he paused, startled, and looked up, afraid that shadows would now attack him.
Did Lady Metzler know? Of course she did. He smelled her magic on Lukas when Lukas had changed. Rudi tried to set up a meeting with her during a layover, but the helpful young man on the other end only said he didn’t know, that Rudi would have to see if he could be fit in when he arrived.
The guards at the gate to the castle looked puzzled when Rudi climbed out of the car. He knew nothing smelled of him, not really.
While scanning his passport, the guard asked, “How was your trip?”
“They lost my luggage on the first leg,” Rudi replied with an exasperated sigh. “Had to replace everything.”
The guards relaxed after that and waved Rudi through.
The castle looked the same it had the last time Rudi had been there during the daylight hours: The grass in front of the gray stone building was beautifully trimmed, the many windows on the building gleamed in the sunlight, while the trees smelled of earth and hound and home.
More guards waited just inside the broad, wooden castle doors. Rudi detected not just more cameras, but heat sensors as well.
Were they there because he’d smuggled away the prince? Lady Metzler had assured him that the cameras would be fooled. Maybe they thought more, redundant electronics couldn’t be tampered with as easily.
The two-story ceiling leading up to an incredible fresco of a brilliant blue sky and white fluffy clouds was the same, as was the white marble floor and ancient tapestries showing scenes from medieval hunts and hounds.
It was beautiful and should have filled Rudi’s heart with joy.
It stank of the shadows.
Rudi still smiled as he walked over to the huge reception desk. It was an antique, with carved hound paws for feet and intricate, inlaid swirling designs racing across the surface. “I’d like to see Lady Metzler, if that’s possible,” he asked politely.
“I need to see if she’s receiving today,” said the very prim young man sitting behind the desk, wearing white-framed glasses, a dark suit, and a thin blue tie.
“Has she been ill?” Rudi asked, worried.
“Yes,” came the curt reply. “Please wait here.”
Rudi hadn’t heard anything from Lady Metzler since he’d taken Lukas, not a postcard or a letter. He’d tried not to worry, as she’d told him not to stay in contact. But he hadn’t heard any news of her being ill through any other channels.
To distract himself, Rudi tried to pinpoint the location of the shadows: Did they lurk in the corners? Up around the ceiling? He couldn’t see them—but then again, he was a scent hound, not a sight hound, and Lukas had told him to memorize the scent of the shadows.
When Rudi walked to the far end of the hall, he discovered another person waiting there, sitting on an uncomfortable-looking carved chair. She was ancient, tiny, and Asian. Her hair was more white than black, pulled back casually from her face and piled high on her head, held there by an elaborate set of jeweled sticks. She wore a Western-style jacket and skirt made from deep red silk, and seemed to be covered in darkness. Not like the shadows he was scenting, but like a curtain that hid her true features.
“Hello,” Rudi said, nodding to her as he pretended to be interested in the nearby tapestry, showing a group of fox hounds running across a field.
The woman nodded in return and went back to staring straight ahead.
She wasn’t of the hound clan. Rudi, like the others in the hound clan, had met many of the other clans when he’d spent time at the court. He’d gotten a lot more practice determining people from other clans when he’d gone to Ravens’ Hall to guard Sally.
He couldn’t figure out what clan the Asian woman was, though—he’d never caught such a scent before, something earthy, yet soft, slippery.
The shadows were stronger at this end of the hall. Rudi risked taking a deeper breath, nose toward the corner.
The woman got out of her chair and walked with clicking heels over to where Rudi stood.
“You smell them too, don’t you, hound?” she hissed quietly in lightly accented English.
Rudi looked at her, shocked. Was she talking about the shadows? Did she somehow sense them as well?
“These fools—they do not see what has invaded the very heart of their home. Bah,” she whispered, disgusted. “We will talk later. I will find you,” she added before she walked away, the sound of her heels echoing through the hallway.
Who was she? What was she?
And did Rudi have an ally?
# # #
“Lady Metzler will see you now,” the prim young man announced as Rudi walked back toward the reception desk.
The Asian woman was nowhere to be seen, but Rudi had enough of her scent to know she’d gone into one of the meeting rooms on the right, reserved for court ministers and visiting dignitaries.
The young man led Rudi through unknown parts of the castle, but he recognized the last hallway they entered, with the same worn rugs, old paintings, and closed-in feeling. They were going to Lady Metzler’s rooms. He could smell the lavender and the chemicals used to clean the
wood and the carpets here.
Relief cascaded over Rudi. If the lady had been really sick, wouldn’t she be in the infirmary, and not in her own bed?
The receptionist opened the door and Rudi’s sense of well-being flew away as the stench of shadows rolled out, mingled with old urine, musty books, and bitter magic.
Without another word, Rudi pushed into the room.
Lady Metzler sat up on her tiny bed, supported by pillows, the huge shelves of books that filled the room and blocked off the rest of it towering over her. Her gray curls flailed out from her head, and her amber-colored, normally clear eyes were dark and hazed. She wore a clean white nightshirt, but it was obvious she hadn’t been dressed all day.
She wasn’t sick with something easy to cure, like the flu.
“You have come,” Lady Metzler hissed. “Why have you come?” Her voice sounded querulous and old, her former strength gone.
Rudi’s heart fell to his shoes. His former mentor was no longer there; just her shell remained.
“To see you,” Rudi said gently, walking further into the room. He glanced up. He couldn’t see the shadows lingering in the tall corners, though he was certain they were there.
Along with more than one camera, which was easily justified by a sick woman who probably pushed away all company.
Rudi cursed himself, wishing he’d come more prepared to evade any electronic eavesdropping.
“Yes, yes,” Lady Metzler said, nodding. “I’ve changed.” She leaned forward, whispering, “It’s those damn shadows. They won’t leave me alone, won’t leave my thoughts to myself. Yes.” She reached out and grabbed Rudi’s arm with surprising strength. “They’re everywhere, you know. Filthy shadows. Trying to reach my boy.”
“Your boy?” Rudi asked, confused. They’d already reached Lukas.
“The king. But I won’t help them. They try to trick me, like they tricked me before. I’ve helped them too much, in the past. I only did it because I had to. I thought it would keep him safe.”
“Keep who safe?” Rudi knew it was dangerous to ask. However, he had to know. Had Lady Metzler been the one to curse the prince? If so, did she still have the mental capacity to reverse it? He’d promised the prince. Was he destined to be such a poor guardian?
