As Nat dragged him behind a VW van painted with huge purple and green swirls, Woody was still moaning, as if in terrible agony.

“What’s the matter?” asked Nat, still in shock. “Why can’t you complete the change?”

“Dunno,” gasped Woody. “Stuuuuck!”

Nat didn’t know how much more he could take. Dealing with Woody in two separate identities was one thing, but half boy, half Wolven? What if he stayed like that? If only his dad were here. The thought of his dad was the last straw, and Nat had to bite his lower lip to fight back the tears.

Whether it was a reaction to seeing his friend so upset or whether it would have happened anyway, Nat didn’t know, but Woody’s change got going again. The fur on his lower half disappeared, and his legs straightened out. Last of all, his paws narrowed into human feet. The transformation was complete. A bewildered, naked boy crouched in front of Nat.

“I don’t understand,” sniffed Nat. “You said you change at the full moon, not on a sunny afternoon. You won’t shrivel up in the sun, will you?” he added anxiously.

“That’s vampires,” said Woody.

Nat paced up and down, clutching his head with his hands.

“What do we do?” he asked, panicking. “Wha …?”

“Cloves. Need cloves,” interrupted Woody.

With an enormous effort, Nat pulled himself together and forced a smile. He whipped off his T-shirt and handed it to Woody. “You need clothes.”

“Yep,” said Woody patiently. “‘S’what I said.”

“Stay here,” said Nat firmly. “I’ll see what I can do.” He patted the top of Woody’s arm reassuringly. “And don’t worry.”

Woody smiled and sat down next to the painted van while Nat scouted the cars to see if any were unlocked. Maybe he would find an old blanket or seat cover that Woody could drape around himself until they got home. Home! Nat groaned. How on earth was he going to explain this to his family?

He trudged back to the ring. There was no sign of them anywhere. He knew they wouldn’t have gone home, because Mick had wanted to stay for the bands. He was sure Mick wouldn’t miss the Wurzels for anything.

He pulled his cap forward. He hoped no one would recognize him as the owner of the hopeful but crazy entrant in “Dog with the Most Appealing Face.” As he checked out the area behind the stage for any pieces of clothing that might be useful, he was struck by the music. The band who’d opened the show was playing a kind of country music, full of loud, joyful, funky riffs, and everyone was up and dancing. Nat took a peek at the singer, who was young and strikingly pretty, with fire-engine red hair and an unusual voice. To Nat, it sounded fluid and creamy, like the sound of a violin when it is played very well.