“What happened to you?” Alazavier asked.
She looked up, startled; she hadn’t realized the gargoyle boy she was after was holding the light that illuminated her injury.
“That... thing, skewered me with a knife to... well, to trap me. It told me it was going to eat me. What was it?”
The kid answered before Harzl could, “A tunnel ghoul, it’s like a vampire but not a vampire.”
Harzl looked around his feet and located the bloody knife. It was short but sharp and had a handle carved into an intricate wolf. Jana stepped backward when he picked it up.
“Did you bring this with you? It has a wolf carved on the bone handle and the blade is silver.” Silver would have kept her from shifting.
She didn’t answer. It was clear she was more than wolfen. Oneof her parents, or grandparents, had to have been a witch. It would explain how she knew the old language and had been able to enchant him.
“I’ll give this back to you once we get Snori to safety,” Harzl said as he descended the stairs and then stopped to wait for her.
She tried not to wince as she came down the steps, holding on to the railing.
Alazavier stepped forward. “You take the flashlight, I’ll help her. You’ll need to carry Snori.”
“A good plan,” Harzl agreed with pride as he took the flashlight and put the knife in his knapsack side pouch.
“Why are you helping me?” Jana asked with suspicion.
Again Alazavier spoke before Harzl could answer. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”
He was a good kid. Harzl committed to getting him to his father for protection.
They made their way to the barghest, and Harzl bent down so he could hug his best friend. Snori held his injured leg close, but wiggled his butt and tail in excitement. He whined and yipped greetings while Harzl looked him over. “What happened to you, buddy?”
Jana supplied the answer from a safe distance; she was leaning on Alazavier’s shoulder. “He chased me down the tracks and tried to corner me; we tussled and I unshifted. He didn’t know what to do when I was naked. Then that ghoul attacked your... dog... with a shovel and I ran. I’m sorry.”
“How do you carry that knife when you’re, uh, naked?” Alazavier asked.
“An arm strap.”
“How’d the ghoul get you if you ran?”
“He threw a brick at my head.”
Harzl had had enough of the questioning. “Northern Line, can you hear me?”
“Yes, what do you need?” it projected into his head.
“Please come back through the tunnel slowly. Snori has a broken leg, another passenger has a deep wound, and I need to get them help.”
“I will be there momentarily.”
Snori growled.
“Don’t move,” came Spencer’s arrogant voice from the darkness of the crossover tunnel. Then he emerged, a wand in his good hand, aimed at Snori.
Harzl stood up and stepped past Snori, blocking off the rude wizard’s aim. “Your wand was broken, wizard.”
“It’s Nancy’s wand. I assure you it will work as well for me as it did for her.”
“That’s not Nancy’s or Cortney’s wand,” Alazavier stated.
Harzl could see on Spencer’s face that the kid was right. “Did you use the duct tape from my counter?” he asked as he noted that the Northern Line train was edging toward them.
