Amy whipped around. Behind her, the bear-girl snarled.

A black-pelted panther bounded out of the trees, voicing its scream of challenge again. Behind it ran a red-furred wolf, a coyote, and a fox, fanning out as they left the forest’s cover, their teeth bared and a three-part growl sounding.

Oh, God, what now? Amy felt her knees begin to give as the panther and the fox closed in, the wolf and the coyote hanging back. I don’t think I can take much more...

The panther shot past her on the left, so close that black fur brushed her arm. A growling hiss answered the bear-girl’s second snarl. The fox slowed to a stop beside Amy—a flash of darkness like the one she’d seen when the bear transformed—

And a teenage girl with dark hair chopped raggedly to ear level straightened up from her crouch and flashed Amy a smile. “Coming?” she said. “Or would you prefer staying here with psycho-bear-chick?”

Amy fumbled for words, staring at the other girl. She sounds sane. And she’s wearing clothing. Sort of. Two strips of once-white cloth were tied around the girl’s body, creating an effect not unlike a ghetto bikini.

I should probably say something to her...

“Do you want to come with us?” the other girl demanded again, more urgently. “Yes or no?”

A dark flash and a bear’s roar from behind her, and Amy’s mouth blurted, “Yes!” while her brain was still stalled on trying to remember how to form words.

“Great. Come on.” The dark-haired girl grabbed Amy’s arm and took off running.

Amy’s foot caught on a tuft of grass, but she found her footing in time to stay upright, and then she was into her stride and keeping up with the other girl as they bolted for the trees. The simple movement jogged her mind, restoring some of her ability to think and speak. “My bag—” she got out between gasps for breath.

“Someone’s getting it.” The other girl didn’t seem winded at all, though she was running flat-out. “Can you ride?”

“Ride what?” Amy looked up as she finished panting the question and saw the shape emerging from the trees. “Oh—no, no, I can’t, I’m scared of horses—”

The other girl glared over her shoulder without breaking stride. “Are you more scared of the horse that doesn’t want to eat you or the bear that does?”

“I—” Amy stumbled to a halt and looked back. Panther and bear were locked in a staring contest, wolf and coyote creeping up into flanking positions, but the larger bear was getting to his paws, in a moment he’d be ready to charge at one of the panther’s companions—

“All right.” Amy turned back around to face the red-coated mare. “How do I—”

The girl went to one knee and offered her cupped hands. Amy set a foot in them, planted her hands on the mare’s back, and pushed off, and a moment later was clutching at a black mane to stay upright. The mare snorted once, warningly, but didn’t move.

I hate this, I hate this, I always hated it even when I was supposed to be learning how to do it right—

There was a sound like a bowling ball hitting a side of beef, and a bear bellowed in rage.

“I think it’s time to go,” the other girl remarked, and dropped to all fours as darkness swirled around her to reveal the fox’s sleek shape once more. The mare ducked her head in agreement and leapt for the trees.

Amy shrieked as the movement nearly threw her off. In panic, she flung herself forward against the horse’s neck and grabbed on.

Don’t let me fall don’t let me fall please oh please God don’t let me fall—

God was listening, it seemed. Either that or Amy remembered more from her hated riding lessons than she’d known.

Or maybe it’s her, not me—she can’t be just a horse, she has to be a theri, maybe she’s compensating for the ways I’m slipping, keeping me on her back...

A few seconds later, the mare pulled to a halt. Amy, taken by surprise, slid to the right and dropped ungracefully into a bush.

Ow.

The dark flash Amy was starting to associate with theri transformations, and a slender girl with long, light hair was peering down. “Are you all right?” she asked worriedly. “I’m sorry I stopped so fast, but there’s no one chasing us and I thought you might prefer to walk from here.”

Amy fought half a breath into her lungs and nodded weakly. “I do,” she wheezed. “But thank you... anyway.”

“You’re welcome.” The girl smiled shyly. She wore clothing as well, Amy noticed, a shapeless beige thing that could have been called a sack dress if it weren’t so obviously just a sack.

But it is clothing. Amy pushed herself more upright and looked around. They all have clothing. Even—

She stared at the tall, straight figure which had just reared up out of the shape of the red wolf. A boy! There’s a boy here! I thought theri boys were always killers, even the files I found said they didn’t have hard evidence of boys staying human—

But if tattered khaki shorts, a wistful smile, and a deep, even voice meant anything, this boy—young man, Amy corrected herself, seeing the burgeoning beard covering his cheeks and chin—was as human as the three girls surrounding him.

It’s true. It’s all true. She was grateful she was already sitting down, otherwise she was sure she’d have fallen. Theris can stay human, or find their way back again. They can learn to control themselves. It doesn’t have to stay the way it is!

But how would the world ever find that out?

“We should go,” said the third girl, taller and lankier than the other two, with brown curly hair spilling over the shoulders of her faded sundress. She’d been the coyote, Amy remembered, just like the darkest girl had been the fox, the smallest one the horse, and the boy the wolf—

And as she thought of him, there he was, standing beside her and offering her his hand. “Are you hurt, miss?” he asked, squinting slightly at her. “I’m Beowulf, by the way. Just realized we never got around to that.”

Names. They even have names. They really are human.

“Amy,” she said, belatedly accepting the hand. “Amy Pelham.”

“Mind if we call you Amy?” Beowulf asked, hauling her upright without apparent effort. At her shaken head, he grinned. “Excellent. So, Amy, meet Ayatzi—” The mare-girl dipped a slight curtsy. “—Yo-yo—” The coyote-girl bowed as though she were on stage. “—and Brushytail.”

“Which name sticks despite all my efforts to the contrary,” grumbled the fox-girl. “It makes me sound like a squirrel! I ask you, do I look like a squirrel?”

“No,” said Yo-yo promptly. “You look like squirrel attractant.”

Brushytail frowned. “Squirrel attractant?”

“Squirrel attractant!” Beowulf crowed. “Brushy’s a nut!”

Ayatzi sighed theatrically as Brushy squawked in indignation. “The sad thing is,” she told Amy, “they were always like this.”

“So turning into theris didn’t drive them crazy?” Amy asked, eyeing the running, laughing boy and the chasing girl.

“It might have made it a little shorter of a walk is all,” said Yo-yo. “Speaking of which, we really should be going so we get back to our land before night comes—oh, and I think that’s yours,” she added, pointing over Amy’s shoulder.

Amy turned. Her bag dangled from a shoulder-height branch just behind her. Perched on it, looking very pleased with itself, was a chipmunk.

“Amy, meet Chipotle,” said Brushy behind her.

The chipmunk chittered indignantly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, that’s Lily Dale. Amy, meet Lily Dale. Chipotle’s back at the Den, you’ll meet her when we get there.”

“Chipotle and Lily Dale?” Amy said, unhooking the bag from its branch. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

Lily Dale leapt to the ground and changed shape midway, exploding outwards into a girl in her mid-teens in a worn-out T-shirt and shorts with dark, curly hair and a bright smile. “Not kidding,” she said, holding out her hand. “Nice to meet you. What’s your form?”

“I—” Amy began.

“Dale,” said Beowulf in a warning tone. “Manners.”

“Sorry,” Dale mumbled, looking at the ground.

“No, it’s all right.” Amy shoved down a flash of panic. They rescued me, they fought that bear off for me, they’re not suddenly going to turn on me just because I don’t change like they do.

Are they?

“Come on, everybody!” Brushy waved her arms like a mad semaphorist. “Forward ho! The afternoon is getting old and I want my dinner!”

“I want your dinner too,” Beowulf quipped. “Can I have it?”

“No.”

“Rats.”

“Hey, how’d you know what we’re having?”

“Ewwww!” chorused Ayatzi and Dale. “Gross!”

Amy couldn’t help but laugh. The banter reminded her, almost painfully so, of her friends at school and at home, of afternoons at the mall or the park, of evenings spent watching movies and eating popcorn and teasing one another unmercifully.

And now I’ll never see them again...

The thought sent her head up high. No. I’m not going to think like that. Not now that I’m going to live, when a few minutes ago I thought I was going to die.

Nothing is impossible now.

I will live. I will find some way to help these new friends.

And someday, I will see my old ones again.

Gripping the book within her bag with her left hand, she lifted her right one a fraction of an inch.

So help me God.

The Den Brushytail had mentioned turned out to be a squat concrete house with a fireplace at one end and a campground-style bathroom at the other. A kettle hung over the glowing coals in the fireplace, a surprisingly savory aroma coming from it. Amy found her mouth watering as she sniffed.

“They built a bunch of these all over the place when Sanctuary first went up,” said Yo-yo, plopping down into one of the beanbag chairs which littered the roughly carpeted floor. “As far as we know, this is the only one still intact.”

“And wouldn’t some of the other packs like to change that,” added Beowulf. “We keep a sentry on duty here twenty-four-seven, and patrol the borders of the land we’ve claimed when we can. When we can’t...” He shrugged. “We get the non-fighters inside and guard the doors. So far, they’ve never broken through.”

“But that still means they can destroy our gardens,” Ayatzi said, stirring the contents of the kettle with the wooden spoon she’d taken from its nail by the hearth. “We’ve been able to keep them away this year so far, but I don’t know if we can hold them off through harvest time.”

Brushy kicked the wall moodily. “It wouldn’t be so bad if they stole what we grow and ate it,” she said. “At least we’d know it wasn’t going to waste. But no, all they want to do is mess it up so we can’t eat it. Why are they so stupid?”

“You know perfectly well why,” said a new voice from the other end of the room, and a girl Amy’s own age with short blonde hair strode in, tying a knot in the edge of her ripped tank top where it met her fraying cutoffs. “You must be Amy,” she said, waving casually. “I’m Chipotle, Chip for short. And you know why they’re so stupid, Brushy,” she added. “They’ve stopped thinking, that’s why. Except the ones who haven’t, and they’re worse.”

“They want to force us out to the food drop sites,” said a quiet voice, and a young woman with long brown hair, wearing a flowing green dress which fit better than anything Amy had yet seen, stepped into view in the door Chip had used. “So they can attack us and kill us, or kidnap us away. And they want to be sure we’re weak when we get there, so they can win.”

“Amy, Lyonesse,” said Beowulf, waving a hand at the young woman, whose name he’d pronounced with a long E sound where Amy knew the Y was in the written word. “Lyonesse, Amy. Snowtips still out on patrol, Lyo?”

Lyonesse nodded. “She said she’d come in to eat around midnight, and I’ll go out to relieve her. Snowtips is a bobcat,” she added to Amy. “I’m a lioness, it’s why I chose the name I did, and Chip is a chipmunk like Dale, but I’d bet you already knew that.”

“I sort of guessed,” Amy admitted. “Is this all of you?”

“Meddma’s around somewhere,” said Chip, untangling a knot in her hair with her fingers. “Watch out for little golden squeaky things before you step and you’ll be fine. Hamster,” she filled in at Amy’s blank look. “And then there’s our air support, and the leader of our merry band—”

A shriek from outside, different somehow to Amy’s ears than the earlier screams of the panther, cut off Chip’s words. “And here they are now,” the blonde girl finished smoothly. “How’s dinner looking, Yatzi?”

Ayatzi shook the spoon over the kettle and hung it on its nail again. “It’s ready enough,” she said. “Good thing we made extra.”

Amy swallowed guiltily. They’re barely surviving as it is, and now I’m here, another mouth to feed...

“Amy, get out here!” Dale called from the lawn. “Come on, you haven’t met Perry yet, or our Great and Fearless Leader!”

Setting down her bag and letting Dale’s silliness bring a smile to her face, Amy stood up and started for the door.

It isn’t my fault that I’m here, but I can’t change it now. So I’ll help them survive, whatever ways I can.

No matter what it takes.