Then something incredible happened to Nat. The sun went out. Or, to be more accurate, for a few seconds, Nat was somewhere else. The relentless sun had been replaced by a glittering full moon. A cold breeze tugged at his clothes, freezing water lapped at his sneakers. Something lay at the shoreline, gently moving in and out to the rhythm of the shallow waves. Nat moved closer. He caught an unwanted glimpse of a big, pale dog, front legs tied to the back, fur sodden and matted. Its eyes were closed. It looked sad and lonely and drowned.

At once, Nat knew for sure that Tate would carry out his threat if they didn’t agree to take the dog away. He felt the sun’s rays again as the vision disappeared. The dog was still there, fixing Nat with its extraordinary golden eyes. Gradually they faded back to their usual color.

It made me see that, thought Nat. The knowledge left him panicky and cold inside, despite the heat of the day.

“… or did you want to see the Labs at the stables?”

Nat shook his head, suddenly aware of the others.

“Sorry, what lavs, Granddad?”

“Labs,” repeated Mick. “Would you like to see the Labrador pups up at the major’s stables? I promised you a puppy, Nat. This … er, dog, isn’t what I had in mind at all.”

“Is he trained?” asked Jude.

“Oh, he’s fine with sit and stay, the usual commands,” said Mr. Tate airily.

The dog stood calmly next to Nat, its long legs wobbling slightly, its feet splayed out at gawky angles. It looked, thought Nat, slightly amused.

“Down,” commanded Tate.

The dog yawned and walked off, its rear end swaying almost jauntily, as if to say, “Stuff it, matey.”

“He don’t know that one yet,” blustered Mr. Tate, trying to regain some dignity.

Mick fiddled with his beard, lost in thought. Suddenly, he shot a contemptuous look at the farmer and grabbed Nat’s arm.

“C’mon, Nat,” he said. “I promised you a puppy. Let’s go.”

Tate and Nat looked alarmed, but for different reasons.

Nat turned to face Mr. Tate. “I don’t have a choice, do I?” he said coldly. “If I don’t take him, you’ll kill him.”

“I wuz only having a laugh,” said Alec Tate uneasily. “My missus wouldn’t let anything happen to that dog. Apple of her eye, he is.”

Again, Nat knew instinctively that Mr. Tate wasn’t telling the truth. Something very weird had just happened to him. Somehow, the dog had got into his head and shown him what might happen to it if Nat walked away and left it at the farm.