Page 29 of The Baker and the Wolf

She nods vacantly. “He has uncanny instincts.”

Seizing the moment, I ask, “Why didn’t you tell me he’s a wolf?”

Her eyes sharply focus on me. Instead of answering my question, she asks her own: “You’ve seen him change? When?”

“Today. When he followed me here into your pocket world.”

“Oh, yes. He cannot maintain human form here. Perhaps I should adjust that spell.” But then she asks, “What happened after your mother left your bedchamber?”

Tamping down my impatience, I relate that part of the story, downplaying Barbaro’s personal attentiveness while doing justice to his remarkable skills. “Right before we ran through the door, he was trying to tell me something—”

Wait. What was that word Wenna used? I meet Rina’s gaze. “What exactly is a shifter?”

She hesitates, then says, “Barbaro says he inherited that gene from his mother. Shifters are born with the ability to switch at will from their human form to one specific animal form.” A frown flits across her face before she adds, “Of course, as a prisoner, Barbaro’s ability to shift is no longer entirely under his control.”

I need time to think this through, but something tells me my window of information is quickly closing. I must ask questions now and think later. “Do you know his real name?” I try to sound casual.

She answers with evident reluctance: “His father was Mustapha Ayad, an infamous enchanter who enslaved thousands in Khenifra and surrounding countries. The villain escaped to this continent and married an heiress.”

At my look of surprise, she nods. “Our records indicate that he did legally wed the boy’s mother; she was wealthy and connected to power before marrying him destroyed her life. I don’t know the boy’s given name. At the time we captured him, the local people called him Barbaro for his barbaric behavior. As I told you yesterday, he was the terror of the town. Of the region.”

“Boy? How old was he?”

She sighs. “His chin boasted a few straggly hairs and his voice still cracked when we captured him—I would guess fourteen. Fifteen, at most. It is nearly ten years since his capture.”

I ponder this information, my mind spinning in circles. “Is his sentence truly for life? I mean, is there no way for him to be free, ever? Even if he repents and changes?”

Emotions flicker across her face too quickly for me to identify. “The life curse is the price he pays for his crimes.”

“But he was so young!”

Two lines appear between her brows. “He killed one of our mages and badly injured two others during his capture. Countless other lives had been lost or damaged due to his thoughtless, callous abuse of magic.”

The weight on my heart deepens. “So there is no way to break this curse? Ever?”

Rina turns away. I sense her inner struggle but cannot discern the reason for it. She heaves a quick sigh and turns back to me. “A means to break the bondage curse does exist, but Barbaro must discover it for himself.” She blinks a few times before adding, “Cerise, my dear grandchild, you must forget him. Even if he were free, he could never settle down with a wife and family. He is a wolf—his spirit is wild and fierce.”

I set my jaw. “He rescued me from a human attacker while in his wolf form. Did he tell you?”

Her brows rise slightly. “He did not.” She purses her lips in contemplation. “The bondage curse does not compel him to relate his heroic acts.”

“Well. Maybe it should.” A lump suddenly rises in my throat, and I swallow hard. “At least . . . at least I know there is some chance he could be released.”

“Dearest girl, I pray you will not waste your life on a hopeless reprobate.”

I give her a wry smile. “A lifetime of heartbreak and misery has never been high on my list of aspirations.”

The lines on her forehead fade, and she reaches out to take my hands with heartening warmth in her gaze. “Now, we must decide what to do next.” Giving my hands a final squeeze, she sits back in her chair and calls, “Barbaro, come to me.”

Almost immediately, I hear a scratch at the cottage door. Rina nods, her expression enigmatic. “You may admit him. I’ll bring more refreshments.”

As soon as Rina is out of sight, I smooth my hair, straighten my clothing, breathe deeply as I walk to the door, and then open it. Ears flattened, tail low and quivering, the wolf sneaks glances up at me, for all the world like a guilty puppy. I bend close to say, “I wish you’d told me, but it’s hardly the unforgivable sin, you know.”

From the other room, Rina calls, “Do take your human form, Barbaro. I have plenty of questions requiring answers. And Cerise, please shut the door before we all freeze.”

I step back, beckoning, and the wolf brushes past, his back high enough for my fingers to reach without bending down. His paws are huge!

I close the door and turn around just as he gives me one mournful glance, lowers his head in a sort of bow, then reverses the process I watched earlier. In a wave of magic, his black fur gives way to the clothing he wore earlier. He stands upright on human feet in scuffed boots even as his shoulders broaden, and his face and hands regain their shape. In mere moments, the handsome man I’ve come to know stands before me.

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