Honey hesitated, aware that Flora and Claire had paused to listen in as well. She snuck a peek at Buck, but he was still striding ahead of the rest of the pack. There was no sign that he’d overheard the surreptitious discussion behind his back.
She lowered her voice anyway. “It’s a medical condition. Sometimes, when someone goes through an awful, traumatic experience, it can affect them even after it’s over. They may seem fine most of the time, but if they’re triggered—if something reminds them of the terrible thing—it’s like it hurts them all over again.”
“But getting Turned isn’t a bad thing,” Archie objected. “Who wouldn’t want to be a shifter?”
“Buck didn’t.” Honey looked round at all their blank faces, wondering how to explain it to them. “Imagine… imagine that you got hit on the head, and when you woke up, you discovered that your animal was different. That you suddenly turned into a leopard instead of a bear, Archie, or Flora, that your wombat was now a kangaroo.”
This seemed to have the desired effect. From the looks of horror, she’d just handed them all a fresh, steaming mug of nightmare fuel.
“That wouldsuck,” Archie said with heartfelt sincerity.
“Yeah,” Flora agreed, as Finley and Estelle both nodded. “Totally.”
Claire said, so softly that Honey almost didn’t catch it, “I… might not mind.”
Thatwas something she’d have to look into later, but this wasn’t the time. “Exactly. Different people would react in different ways, but for a lot of you, it would be awful. Not that there’s anythingwrongwith being a leopard or a kangaroo. You might even be able to do some things better, like climbing trees or jumping. But it wouldn’t feel likeyou. Not the you that you were used to being.”
“I guess I can see how it would be weird to suddenly be a shifter, if you’ve been used to being a human,” Flora said slowly, as though working her way through a complicated logic puzzle. “Especially when you’re really,reallyold.”
“So that’s why Buck has PM…Q… R… uh, whatever?” Archie asked.
“I don’t know if he does or not. I’m not a doctor. But what I do know is that it’s a very, very sensitive topic for Buck. So I need you all to solemnly swear that you won’t ask him about his animal, or pester him about shifting.” Honey held out her right hand, little finger crooked. “Pinky promise?”
One by one, each camper hooked his or her pinky around hers, as solemnly as if taking the witness stand.
“Honey,” Estelle said, when everyone had completed the pledge. “You’ve seen Buck’s animal. What’s it like?”
“Estelle!” Beth said. “Youliterallyjust swore not to ask!”
“I promised not to ask Buck,” Estelle said, thus proving that she had a brilliant career as either a lawyer or a politician ahead of her. “And I’m not. I’m asking Honey. Pleeeeeease, Honey? Just a hint?”
Her expression was so pleading, Honey had to relent. “Well, I can tell you that neither thunderhound or zapdog is a good name for him. He’s not at all like a dog.”
“Whatishe like?” Estelle asked.
“Huge. Powerful. Wild, and I don’t mean like an animal. More like a force of nature. Something thatcan’tbe tamed or caged. Like a storm.” She smiled, feeling the rightness of the word. “A stormwolf. That’s what he is.”
Archie’s eyes were as big as saucers. “Does he really make lightning?”
“Oh yes. And thunder, too. When he flies, the whole sky goes dark. When he lands, the earth trembles. His teeth are like daggers and his eyes are bright as a lightning strike. And his belly…”
The campers all leaned in, hanging onto every word.
“His belly,” Honey whispered, “is very…very… floofy.”
“No part of my anatomy,” Buck said from twenty feet ahead, in a tone of mortal offense, “haseverbeen floofy.”
“You would not believe how floofy,” Honey told the kids. “I wanted to just bury my hands in there and give him scritchies.”
“If you’re quite done discussing my anatomy, some of us would like to get back to camp before Christmas.” Buck glared back at them over his shoulder. “Less yapping, more hiking!”
For the briefest instant, his eyes met Honey’s. His face was still set in his customary aggrieved scowl, but his lips moved, shaping a single, soundless word.
And Honey couldn’t be sure, but it looked a lot like he’d said:Thanks.
CHAPTER18
There was no opportunity for further conversation. Buck set a pace brisk enough that even Estelle was forced to save her breath for hiking rather than peppering Honey with questions.
