The family was inside now, maybe making calls to see who was playing pooch games with them. Zin held Kudzu for the longest time. He might have been a smart dog, but he had no idea what was coming.

“Maybe it won’t work,” Zin said. “A dog’s not like a bunch of stupid flowers. Maybe something this big—this alive—can’t get through.”

“Maybe not, but there’s only one way to know for sure.”

She knew the Ogre would say that.

Zin spoke to Kudzu in hushed tones, saying all the things you say to someone when you know you’re never going to see him again. Then finally the Ogre said, “It’s time.”

Zin grabbed Kudzu by the scruff of his neck with her ripping hand. “Sorry, boy,” and she began to push him forward.

Cramming, which had been so hard at first, had become easier, just as the Ogre had said it would—but nothing could make this easy. It wasn’t like picking a lock, it was like breaking into Fort Knox.

And to make it even worse, Kudzu began to whine and resist the second the portal began to open. “Help me!” Zin said, straining to force Kudzu forward. Now the Ogre pushed along with her, both of them straining with all their might. His snout was through, then his head, then his front legs. Kudzu let loose a mournful howl, the portal stretched around his haunches, and with a final push he was through, the portal healed closed, and Zin and the Ogre fell back, knocked down by the shock wave of the sealing portal.

Kudzu darted back and forth on the grass in front of them, confused and confounded by the change.

“Look!” the Ogre said. “He has no afterglow! Do you see? Do you see?”

Kudzu was back in the living world! The browns of his fur were paler and out of focus, and his body was true flesh and bone. He leaped this way and that, searching for Zin, barking frantically. Some faint sense must have told him she was still there, but he couldn’t find her and never would.

“He’s alive!” the Ogre said, like some mad scientist. “He’s alive!”

“I’m sorry, boy,” Zin whimpered, “I’m so, so sorry… .” But she knew Kudzu couldn’t hear her.

The family, hearing the barking dog, came out to the yard, and although it took a few minutes, it was the kids who won Kudzu over. They put their arms around his frightened neck.

“What’s your name, boy?” the girl asked.

“It’s Kudzu!” shouted Zin, but no one heard.

Thunder rolled, a little closer than before. The parents looked up at the threatening sky, and the boy said, “Let’s call him Storm!”

And that finally closed the circle—because Zin suddenly remembered that Storm was his real name.