With nothing to indicate how long we’ve been on the road, every jolt is like the ticking of a clock marking a little further towards our destination. I take the time to study the two in the wagon with me. They’re sitting ready, and watchful. How they manage to be both relaxed and tense at the same time is a mystery. Nose looks different somehow. Shifting in my seat to look at him, it takes me quite a while to figure it out.

  “Hey, how did you get the blood off your clothes? they were covered in it here and here.” I point at the places where my beasts claws sliced through it. “And how did you get them clean? I was worried you would both stink when I went to bed last night. How did you do that?”

  Nose reaches out, forcing me back into my seat or be touched. He pauses, looking from his hand to me and then back again.

  “It is a simple spell. Will you allow it?” Eyes narrowed, I nod, ready to push away with my legs if things go south. He murmurs something, touching a finger to my clothes. A ripple of energy passes over me, smoothing out my clothes, and erasing the dirt as if it were never there. The sweaty stink that I was ignoring leaves too.

  “That’s incredible!” I look at the man with my jaw hanging open. He looks sheepish, somehow. Well, if its no big deal, I guess I don’t need to say thank you.

  “Can you teach me?” I ask after a few moments. I can’t not ask him now that I know it’s a thing!

  With pursed lips, he stares at me for a long time. Then he speaks the words slowly. They don’t make any sense to me, but I can hear the syllables. Apparently that’s all I need, because after a few repetitions, once he’s satisfied with my pronunciation, I’m able to conjure the same ripple of energy. It’s a bit wobbly compared to his, but I put that down to practise.

  “Thanks, Nose. That’s going to be really useful.” I don’t look at him when I say it. I said it for me, not for you. When we get wherever we’re going, I’ll count myself lucky if I never see you again.

  The strangest part of the whole thing is that the spell doesn’t make a new smell. It simply erases the old smells. Now the only things I can smell is the air moving through the wagon and myself. That does bring a whiff of the two up front, though. Its much nicer than it was last night. They must have done it too. Actually, now that I think about it, it would make hunting easier. If no one can smell you with enhanced senses, you can sneak up on them much more easily. A shiver of dread crawls up my spine. That’s probably how they caught Nila off guard. Thankfully she wasn’t shifted, or they would have seen her first.

  Mouse catches my shiver, looking away disinterestedly.

  This whole situation is weird. They’re being – I suppose ‘nice’ isn’t the right word – helpful? And yet they kidnapped me and called me ‘Miss Soapwood’. Something is definitely weird here.

  Blowing out a sigh, I lean my head against the canvas wall of the wagon. It’s attached at the bottom to the rails so I can’t see out of either side, even if all I could see is the ground underneath the wheels. It’s move comfortable than leaning against one of the ribs – they’re as rigid as the chair beneath me. A carriage would have been better – but I have no idea if these guys would even fit in a carriage. I’ve never seen one in real life, and in the movies they always looked cramped. I seem to remember they tipped over all the time too. No, I definitely prefer the wagon now.

  I miss Sally. Having a snuggly stuffed toy to cuddle would make this trip a lot more bearable. As it is, I cross my arms, holding onto my tunic. It pulls my tunic tight against my breasts, which helps me feel better. I’ve got the body I want, here. Why not enjoy it while I can?

  My thoughts drift in the monotony.

  How does this thing stop? Is there some kind of brake on the wheel?

  I learned a lot about push-bikes when I was growing up because they were easier to ride than skateboards. Easier to fix, too. The disc brakes were amazing, but well out of my price range. That leaves rubber pads which would clamp against the metal rim of the bike wheel. But this wagon doesn’t have tyres. I would have seen them when we were walking up to it. It has a metal tread around the outside of the wheel instead. Making wagon wheels is really tricky – all the different bits of wood all have to stick together properly.

  Maybe magic could make it easier. I’m sure there’s a spell or two to make the bits stick together long enough to wrap them in metal. The only place for a brake to fit would be … against the outer metal part? That does make sense. It wouldn’t be hard to rig something to push your foot against that would make the pad press against the wheel. That would take the pressure off the horses. There’s no way they’d be able to stop this whole thing if it just started down a steep hill.

  Even if it’s something else, I’m still happy that I solved one way of doing it.

  What about bullocks? They used to pull wagons right? Where are all the bullocks? We are in the mountains, or leaving the mountains, anyway, which means there might not be many head of cattle. Maybe they do their grazing lower down the mountain where all the grass is. Is there a name for the place between the mountain and the plain? The Snowy Mountains are where the wild bush horses used to roam. That’s what The Man from Snowy River was all about. Old Regret’s colt escaped into the mountains and everyone went to chase it down. I really don’t think horses could live that far up the mountain. They don’t have enough fur? Hair? To keep warm, surely.

  Do they have whips? I haven’t heard any whipping going on with these horses up front. I would have noticed that too. My brother used to make them by hand – once you see one its not something you forget. Or the sound – that crack travels for miles. Whip birds are fun to listen to. They do one, two, or sometimes three wind ups before they make the whip sound. All the birds around her sound different. I think it’s the currawongs who live up in the mountains. They are huge – much bigger than magpies. Magpies strut around with their grey babies making lovely music in the mornings. Oh crows – and ravens – do they have those here? It would be fun to see a crow or a raven stealing something shiny and taking it to hide in its nest.

  Huh, what do scavengers steal if the cutlery is made of wood? Do they take bits of glass? Shiny bits of wood? Now that I think about it, there was metal in Vale. I saw it in the hinges on the doors, and the lock too. It was a huge house, though. That could be a sign that it was made by someone really rich. That would also line up with that guy with the knife – a knife would be very valuable. Although, he did drop it. I can’t blame him for that though – I was a large cat running towards him. Ha – Mouse and Nose would never drop their knives. Although, they wouldn’t run away either. Are they being forced to do this? Maybe Mr Soapbrush is forcing them to follow his orders.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Imagining a cold, hard eyed Mr Soapbrush reminds me of my adopted cousin. He was the second youngest of the four kids in that family – he was a total sociopath. Or psychopath. Either way, he was a dead eyed crazy man. I shudder at the memory of my head striking the corner of the plaster wall. I wouldn’t let go of his leg so instead of peeling me off, he decided to give me brain damage. Not a nice person. I’m glad I never saw him again after he visited 10 years later. God he looked awful too.

  A squeal from up front slices through the painful memory, the wagon starting to slow down. My weight shifts forcing me to use my leg and hands to steady myself. Once I’m settled again, I wrap my hands around my chest again. Its very comfortable to hold myself. And it stops me from fidgeting too much. Boobs are amazing. No question about it.

  For a moment, Nila against the sky leaping towards the water below brushes against my thoughts. I wonder where she is right now. Probably having a much better time without these goons on her trail. Pursing my lips, I look towards the flap at the front of the wagon. What’s going on?

  I hear grumbling from the other side of the flap. Mouse stands, probably because nose is guarding the tailgate, and puts his head through the gap in the canvas flaps. A few murmurs later, Mouse moves past Nose and me, exchanging a look with the big man sitting down. Then he pushes the flap aside and vaults over the tailgate.

  Damn, he made that look easy. I remember doing that all the time. There were low fences everywhere – at the park, at school, at the shops. Then school fences got higher and sharper. That was before I started wearing skirts – now it would be a free show to anyone watching. I’m going to have to wear pants for that. Like I am now, actually. The first low fence I see, I’m vaulting that bad boy.

  Mouse’s boots tramp on the road towards the front of the wagon, either Lip or Scar dropping to the ground to help him with whatever it is. Well, if I’m going to make a break for it, this is going to be the time to do it. Maybe I can fake ‘em out by going to the front and jumping out that way?

  Stretching out nonchalantly, I get up and move towards the front flap. Nose is right behind me, but I manage to push the flap aside before he grabs my arm and forces me to sit again.

  “I was just looking.” I grumble petulantly, arms crossed. I stare at the other side of the wagon, glancing at Nose out of the corner of my eye every so often. I saw a tree or a tree branch fallen over the road. There were fields on either side – and low fences. They had three rails though, which might make them too big to vault over. I could go through them though. That would be quicker.

  Whatever was growing on either side of the road wasn’t very tall. No getting lost in the tall cornfields. All the crops I’m used to seeing are low, bred that way to keep costs down. At least I saw some trees in the distance. I’m not sure I could climb them, but where there are some trees, there are usually more trees. Maybe if there are any people around here, they might take my side if these guys are chasing after me?

  A pitter-patter sound coming from the back of the wagon sounds strangely familiar. Cocking my head to listen, suddenly, a huge sharp pushes through the flaps. A big dog of some kind leaps forwards, pushing the person on the front seat off the wagon. A second shape hurtles through the gap, colliding with Nose. I scramble out of the way before the two bodies hit me. The open flap reveals a group of people approaching from the road and the fields on either side.

  Where did they come from? Adrenaline pumping, I glance at Nose fighting off his assailant and vault over the tailgate. I don’t have time to celebrate landing properly on my feet, running towards the fence and vaulting over it. Whoever these people are, they did me a favour. I’m not sticking around to find out who they are, though.

  Sprinting down the neat rows, I hear my name from behind me. My lapse in concentration causes me to miss a step, stumbling and narrowly avoiding paceplanting in the soil. Crouching so I’m level with the tops of the plants stretching away from me, I look back the way I came. Several people are running down parallel rows, while the four men who caught me are fighting shifters and humans alike.

  “Who are you?” I bark.

  “Keep going, Nila’s waiting for you.” Pursing my lips at their reply, I follow the direction they pointed in. “We’ll keep them busy and lead them away from you – she’s that way. Keep going and she’ll find you.”

  I hesitate, looking at them and the fight around the wagon. “Go!” the sharp word galvanises me into action. I crouch run down the row to the end of the field, turning right and heading down the fenceline to the corner away from the road. Ducking under the top rail, I set off towards the next corner.

  Once I have some trees between me and the wagon, I check that no one is following me and stop to catch my breath for a moment. After several deep breaths, I manage to start jogging again.

  Movement from the next group of trees catches my eye. Someone is waiting for me. Slowing down, I cover my eyes with one hand, peering into the space between the trees. It could still be a trap. It’s difficult to see into the different light, but I keep going. I’ve come this far, I may as well find out who it is.

  If the area weren’t so flat, I might try shouting to whoever it is. There’s nothing to stop the sound travelling, and that would give away my position. If there’s anyone else around. My hearing is crazy good when I’m shifted, though, so there’s no telling how far away someone might hear me.

  I didn’t need to worry. I spot Nila from a few dozen metres away, running towards her as fast as I can. I wrap my arms around her climbing into her arms as she pulls me behind a tree and into the shade.

  “Nile, I’m so sorry, I twisted my ankle and they –“

  Lucy – I’m so glad they found you!”

  Her scent fills my nose, flowery and something else completely hers. I drink it in like it’s the water of life. Her body pressed up against me is warm and cozy. My arms and legs are wrapped around her neck and waist, and I never want to let go.

  “Are you okay?” I ask breathlessly, pulling back to look her over. Her hands are under my butt holding me up. I unwrap my legs from around her waist and put my feet on the ground. She looks okay.

  “Me? You were kidnapped and tied up! I saw them knock you out and then tie you up and put you in their wagon – I was terrified!”

  “no, no, I’m okay. I promise!” I pull her close again, willing her to believe me. Her arms come up to squeeze me for a moment before she takes my shoulders and eases me backwards.

  “We need to keep going. My friends brought your pack. Come on.” I can see the concern etched into her face as she holds out my pack. I murmur the cleaning spell and touch the backpack and then myself. The tingle of energy feels stronger this time.

  “Wow – where did you learn that?” Nila whispers, eyes wide.

  “Oh, uh, Nose showed me when I pointed out that he somehow got all the blood out of this tunic. Pretty cool huh?”

  Nila looks at me like I’ve just pulled a bunny out of a hat. “A kidnapper casually showed you a hunting spell?” after a beat, she turns, picking up her pack and fixing it around her shoulders, chest and waist. I do the same, feeling its comforting weight on my body once more.

  When she turns back, I notice her eyes are red. Is she crying? I keep my mouth shut, waiting for her to speak.

  She holds out her hand. I take it, feeling her clutch it like I’ll disappear if she lets go even for a moment.

  “Change of plans. We have to hide out for a bit.” She manages a wan smile. “I’m so glad you made it.” She sniffs, and looks away. I squeeze her hand. I’m about to cry too. I never thought she’d come back for me. She was supposed to go about her business without having to think about me at the same time. But she did come back. And she bought friends.

  I have no idea what this means, but I do know that it means I get to spend more time with her. For now, that’s all that matters.