Fishbone thumped against the ground and bounced back up again, claws popped, teeth bared. The enormous bear stared back and the low rumble of a growl started in his chest. It sounded like a thunderstorm was gathering beneath his ribs.

Before he could lunge at Fishbone, Liska – her cloak now free – flipped her hood over and flowed into her griffyx shape. She dropped to all fours, facing the bear and was shocked to discover that he seemed much bigger than when she was standing. She spread her wings anyway and put on her best snarl, hoping that it might distract him at least. Behind her, she could hear Lug muttering prayers to his mummy and someone called Nematus.

The God Worm, she remembered. We could really use that now.

Her change had drawn the bear’s attention. His gaze snapped from the hissing Fishbone to her and Liska noticed his eyes widen. The growl in his throat stopped immediately and he took a step backwards. Then he did something that made Liska yelp in surprise.

The bear opened his mouth in a yawn. A tremendous yawn that stretched his jaw wide open. Further and then further, until the fangs of his mouth dropped away. The skin of his face followed, peeling back from his head and shoulders, revealing a man hidden beneath. Tall, bare-chested with thick, corded muscle. He had skin the same colour as Liska’s. The same tightly curled hair matted into locks, the same leaf-green eyes.

‘A shapewalker,’ Liska said under her breath. ‘Just like me.’

Except the man’s change wasn’t like pouring your body from one form to another. It happened in jerks and jumps and seemed to be causing him pain. When it had finished, and his bear skin hung in a cloak from his shoulders, he almost fell to the ground, gasping with exertion.

Fighting for breath, he forced himself to stand upright and face Liska and her friends. He dipped his head at her in a polite bow, and then pointed deeper into the forest.

‘I think you’d better come with me,’ he said.

*

They walked in line, following the cloaked man and flanked on both sides by forest creatures. The animals, or shapewalkers in beast form, kept giving Liska curious glances. She stayed as a griffyx and matched their stares, taking the chance to snuffle at them when she could. Most of what she smelt was wolf or cat, but underneath were tones of human and also, very weak but definitely there, a hint of magic oil. Like that made from the Undrentree back home.

‘Are these the shapewalkers of Almberg?’ she whispered to Elowen as they marched onwards.

Elowen peered at the creatures, lifting a pale white hand to gently skim the fur of one that walked beside her. ‘They must be their descendants. Amazing that they’ve survived in the forest for five hundred years! And still able to change their form.’