“Scale will catch you if you stay,” said Iona firmly.

Suddenly, Nat sprang up. “What time is it? My mum’ll be back from the fair by now and wondering where I am.”

“Relax,” soothed Iona. “It’s nine thirty. Your folks won’t be home for another hour, which gives you plenty of time.”

Nat was astounded. Surely it was later than that? It seemed they had been at Iona’s for hours and hours.

“Time passes differently when you flip,” said Iona, standing up and walking toward the great oak door. “By the time you get home, Woody will have turned back to Wolven. If you won’t change your minds about joining the Howlers, stay out of sight, lie low for the rest of the weekend, and come back on Monday.” As Woody and Nat stepped out into the garden, she stood in the open doorway, leaving them with one last thought:

“Then I’ll show you some real magic.”

CHAPTER 13
LEARNING TO HOWL

“Get ready to jump back off the road if we see any cars,” Nat told Woody breathlessly as they hurried along the shadowy perimeter of the wood. He was conscious that even by twilight, especially by twilight, Woody would attract unwelcome attention. The morris costume had already split in several places and tufts of white hair poked through the holes.

When the boys reached the shelter of the little beach, with its scrawny growth of trees, Nat heaved a sigh of relief. He glanced sideways at Woody, wishing his change would hurry up and complete. At least he can still walk, thought Nat gratefully, remembering the episode at the fair. He hoped he would never have to witness that little horror show again.

Nat’s head was reeling from all the events of the day. He was still excited about his flip into the past and the few hours when he had been in the company of Richard the Lionheart. It was clear that Woody didn’t share his excitement. In fact, he seemed barely interested, and told Nat so.

“What do you mean? This is your heritage!” cried Nat, shocked. “How can you say you aren’t interested? This is ginormous.”

Woody shook his head impatiently. “The olden days are gone now!” he cried. “The fighting was bad, and the Cru … Crusades were bad, too.”

Nat was astonished; he’d never seen Woody quite so upset before.

But Woody hadn’t finished. “And ima … imagine if you were the last human.”

Nat’s excitement shriveled up and died. He tried to imagine what it would be like without his mum and dad and Apple and Mick, or anyone human, like him. He felt terrible. Poor Woody had just learned from Iona de Gourney how his clan had been betrayed and suffered horribly.