Hazel Fuzzworth's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

Luna dropped to the dirt at the Witch's door. Her back curled. Her fingers dug into the ground. A wet, cracking sound came from her shoulders. She was the girl who had led Hazel through the wood all day, and now she was turning into a wolf, alone, with no one but Hazel to help. Hazel knelt beside her. "Luna. Look at me." But her own arms had started to burn. Fear pushed the hair out fast. It curled thick under both her sleeves, gray and coarse, filling every space between her arms and her sides. "Hold my hand," Hazel said. She reached for Luna. Her arm stuck. The hair had packed so tight it pinned her elbow to her ribs. She pulled. It held. Luna groaned. Her legs kicked. She was slipping away, and Hazel could not even reach her. Hazel bent and grabbed the sewing knife from her boot. Her grandmother's blade. She jammed it up under her sleeve and sawed at the hair. It sheared away in gray clumps. Her arm came free. She grabbed Luna's shaking hand. "I'm here," Hazel said. "You're not alone." Luna's dark eyes found hers. For one breath she was still a girl. "It hurts," she said. Plain, like always. "I know." Hazel held on. "Breathe with me. In. Out." Luna breathed. Hazel breathed with her. And Hazel noticed something. When she watched Luna instead of her own fear, the burning under her arms eased. The new hair stopped pushing out. Her free hand stayed calm on the knife. Helping Luna had quieted her own curse. She had never known that could happen. But the moon climbed higher. Luna's spine bent past what any girl could bend. Her jaw stretched long. The change tore through her whole body. Hazel's calm was not enough to stop it. "Luna, hold on," Hazel begged. Luna's hand slid out of hers. Fur spread up her arm. A wolf's shape took the girl's place. It rolled to its feet, ribs heaving. It fixed yellow eyes on Hazel. Hazel stood very still. She gripped the knife but did not raise it. "It's me," she whispered. "It's still me." The wolf's ears flicked. Its lips pulled back from long teeth. A low sound rolled in its throat. It did not know her. Whatever girl had counted the turns of the path was buried deep now. Hazel backed toward the door. Her heel struck the step. Behind her the lamp glowed in the Witch's window. The one person who could brew the potion, who could calm her curse for good, waited on the other side of that door. The wolf crouched to spring. Hazel turned and pounded the door with her fist. "Please! Open it! There's a wolf!" She heard footsteps inside. The latch scraped. She had cut herself free and reached the Witch's door at last. Now she had to get through it before Luna's teeth found her.