My Lady Jane(82)

Jane turned into a ferret.





TWENTY-ONE


Gifford

Before G had time to be surprised about Jane’s transformation, something scratched at the barn door. G partly drew his sword from its sheath. (Not that he was really any good with a sword, but G was masterful at this particular bluff—to act like he could fight. Sometimes the act was all that was needed.)

“Who’s there?” he called out, his heart hammering.

There was an urgent whine in response.

G opened the door and Pet flew in. She let out a couple of shrill barks, ran out the door, ran back to Gifford, ran outside, and then stared out into the night, one paw lifted, frozen.

“What’s she trying to say?” G asked Jane-the-ferret. Jane responded by scurrying up G’s leg, then up his shirt, then snaking around his neck and ending up on top of his head.

At this point, G realized he’d just asked a ferret what the dog said.

With his Jane hat in place, G squinted into the darkness, trying to figure out what had gotten Pet in such a fluster. Pet ran a few yards out, turned, and panted at G. She leaned even farther away from the barn as if she would take off in that direction if only G would follow.

“Pet,” G said. “Remember the bad soldiers. Right now is not a good time to travel, especially when I’m not a horse, and therefore we have no speed.”

Pet darted back inside the barn, and with a flash of light, suddenly she was a girl.

A naked girl with long, tangled blond hair.

Naked.

With no clothes on.

“I caught His Majesty’s scent!” she exclaimed.

A soft tail swept across G’s cheeks and came to rest right in front of his eyes, but G could still see the flash of light as Pet transformed back into a dog.

He stood there for a long moment, flummoxed.

“Did you see the . . . less formally attired girl who was just here?” he asked Jane. She dug her claws into his head. “Did you have any idea Pet was a girl? Although she didn’t look very comfortable as a girl. She didn’t make any motion to cover herself.” This time, Jane scratched his face. “Not that I noticed.”

Pet emitted a high-pitched bark again and pointed her nose outside the barn, and it wasn’t until that moment that G remembered she had said words. While standing there. Naked.

“You caught King Edward’s scent?” G said.

Pet barked twice and ran back to the door.

“We can’t go now,” G argued. “It’s too dangerous.”

With another flash, she was the naked girl. “We have to go now! It’s already faint, and the rain will make it worse.” She flashed to the dog again. This time, Jane hadn’t had a chance to cover his eyes. How did Pet switch forms so easily, when G, and now Jane apparently, were governed by the sun?

He’d have to focus on that later.

“Pet, we have no supplies.”

The dog growled.

“All right, all right. We go now.”

G grabbed his cloak and saddlebag, removed his lady from his head to set her on his shoulder, and they followed Pet out into the night.

Pet was a fast tracker. With her nose to the ground, she slipped along, somehow maintaining a swift pace without breaking contact between her nostrils and the dirt. G tried to keep up. At least the moon was especially bright tonight, making it easier for G to keep from stumbling.

They had to stop often so that G could catch his breath. During one of these rests, with ferret-Jane asleep around his neck, Pet flashed into a girl and stood before him. “Why can’t you just change?”

G averted his eyes from her southern hemisphere, and then from her northern hemisphere, and then decided the only safe place to look was the stars.

“I can’t control it. It’s a curse. When the sun’s down, I’m human. When it’s up, I’m a steed.” Okay, steed was probably pushing it.

Pet groaned. “Get yer house in order.”

“My house? I have no house.”

“Not the one over there,” she said, pointing in the direction of London. (He could see her pointing out of the corner of his eye, even though his gaze was still averted.) “Your house in here.” She poked his forehead and then his chest.

“Ow,” G said. Her fingers were incredibly strong. “Ow. How am I supposed to—”

But she flashed back to her dog form and began running again before he could finish his question.

They ran and rested and ran again. Breathless and panting, G longed for the sunrise, partly because it would give his human feet a break, and partly because Pet seemed thoroughly unimpressed by his long-distance running, and she refused to hide it.

Then Pet stopped and looked around, confused. She sniffed in one direction, then the other, then the other . . . and didn’t pick one. She sniffed out every possible path, and even up the trunks of a few trees, and then she lay down and whimpered, her brown eyes drooping at the corners.

“What’s the matter, girl?” G crouched down and stroked Pet’s head.

A flash of light, and Pet was a girl, and G was still crouched over her, stroking her hair. It was a move that definitely breached the boundaries of propriety. He leapt back so quickly he almost threw Jane-the-ferret into the trees.

Pet-the-girl looked like she might cry. “His Majesty was traveling with one other person. I was tracking both of their scents.” Her nose wrinkled as if she found the smell of this mystery person unpleasant. “But His Majesty’s scent, it . . . it stops. Something bad happened here.”