A Gypsy Secret: Full Moon Series, #3

Prologue

A crisp full moon hangs high in the late-night sky, casting shadows through the dark woodland below. A chilly November wind rustles the fallen leaves. Shafts of moonlight twinkle between dancing branches. The light falls on an Alsatian dog. It looks up briefly before continuing to snuffle through the undergrowth. Its paws crunch across the frozen earth. Even though the air is cold, its skin is warm under a layer of thick fur.

What a strange new form my body has taken. I can smell things I’ve never experienced before. I can see much further in the dark than I could as a fourteen-year-old-boy. It all seems surreal. If it wasn’t for Grams, who knows I can transform into a dog, I’d think I was crazy.

There’s a noise up ahead. My ears perk up. I recognise the whoosh, whoosh, whoosh of beating wings. I move cautiously towards the sound. At the edge of the woodland a row of houses looms. I am wary of them; their unfamiliar smells make my hackles rise.

The source of the commotion glides down from the sky – a Tawny owl. It lands on a large dead tree trunk. My heart thumps with excitement. I love owls. I love all creatures, really, but I’m thrilled at the thought of seeing the owl so close. I move carefully in its direction. I don’t want to scare it away. It settles its wings along its back and turns its head this way and that. Its large round eyes scan the woods. Then it ruffles its feathers and something unbelievable begins to happen. I freeze, one foot suspended in the air, as the owl starts to expand before my eyes. What’s going on? I squeeze my eyes shut and then open them wide. The bird is still growing – swelling and stretching unnaturally, its feathers shrinking into pink flesh. Instead of wings it now has arms. Its legs are growing long. Suddenly a human being is standing where the owl was perched. It turns sideways, and I briefly see its face before it disappears behind the tree trunk. The image is seared onto my retinas. I know that face. It’s Clara. My friend.

My world jolts violently, and my brain begins to buzz. I’m ice-cold, from the tips of my pointed ears to the ends of my claws. I begin to shiver. Before I can make any sense of what’s happening, Clara reappears from behind the tree trunk. She runs to her house, apparently unaware she’s being watched. Unable to blink, I stare while she slips in the back door and out of sight. A few moments later a bedroom light is switched on, then off again. I am alone in the dark once more.

My brain refuses to make sense out of what I’ve seen. I shake my head to try to clear it. Clara – a shape-shifter, like me? I‘m not yet used to the idea that I can change into a dog, so to discover my new friend can transform into an owl is too much for me. I shake my head again. It can’t be. A couple of weeks ago my life was ordinary – well, as ordinary as the life of a Gypsy can be. And now....

I suddenly find myself running. The brush whips against my face and body, the stinging lashes my only connection to reality as I race back to the safety of my camp. Back to my people. Back to Grams. Yes, Grams will know what’s happening. She’ll know what to do. I’ll tell Grams.

Chapter One

Luke sat up abruptly. He was breathing heavily as if he really had just been running. He dashed a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. He’d had that dream again. Well, not a dream so much as a memory, but still. That was the third time this week. Luke sighed and slid out of his narrow bed. His bedroom was so tiny that, standing up, he could stretch out his arms and touch both walls at once. Even though his window was open, the room was hot, the summer air stifling. At fifteen, he’d grown out of the room really, but the caravan he shared with his dad only had two bedrooms, so he didn’t have much choice.

Luke slipped out of his bedroom and helped himself to a glass of cold water. He sat on the long seat in the dining area, his feet up and his arm draped over the back. His gaze drifted out of the window, across the scrubland in the direction of the woods. Clara’s house was on the other side. He wondered if she was sleeping or if she was out and about in animal form, just as she’d been in his dream. Then he shook his head. They’d agreed to wait until the start of her school holidays, so they could be together for her first post-curse transformation.

The curse had been broken by Clara two weeks earlier, when she’d been saving him from being kidnapped. Even though Clara had been in animal form at the time, Grams had recognised her as being Luke’s saviour and Luke had suspected it too, having accidentally seen Clara’s magical abilities six months before. When they finally confronted Clara with the truth, after the kidnap attempt, she’d admitted to Grams, Luke and Luke’s father Des that she was a shape-shifter. But Grams had forbidden Luke from telling Clara about his own recently discovered ability to shape-shift. Grams had told Luke that his life would be in danger if anyone found out. The type of magic that allowed Luke to transform had been banned by the Gypsy council. If his secret got out, they’d accuse him of using magic illegally. Not even his dad knew what he could do.

Since then he’d been having a recurring dream about the night he discovered Clara’s ability. The night he’d realised they had more in common than a shared interest in wildlife.

Luke squirmed as he recalled the attempted kidnap and Clara’s heroic actions to save him. She’d proven she was trustworthy and courageous, but he was keeping this huge secret from her. It didn’t feel right. Whenever he thought about it, it gave him an ache in his gut that had nothing to do with his dad’s dodgy cooking.

Maybe that’s why I’m having these dreams, he thought.

Luke grunted in frustration, his fingers absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on the back of the seat. Maybe he should speak to Grams about it again – see if he could persuade her that they could share his secret with Clara, that she was a good person. Grams had refused to let him the previous four times they’d discussed it, but maybe the fifth time would be the charm. He frowned as he thought hard about what argument he could use to persuade Grams to let him tell Clara. After a while, though, his eyelids began to droop, and he nodded off to sleep, awakening abruptly the following morning when his dad shook him.

***

Clara stretched leisurely, then rolled onto her side and smiled as she came fully awake. It was the first day of the summer holidays – no more school for six weeks! She sighed happily, threw the duvet off and sprang out of bed. She opened her curtains to a bright, sunny day. Perfect! she thought.

Leaving a little later by the back door of her end-of-terrace home, Clara strolled down the garden path and through the gate into the woodland her estate backed on to. Her step quickened as she spotted her friends, Luke and Bob, waiting for her.

Morning! she sang to them.

Morning, replied Luke, smiling.

Bob barked. He trotted up to Clara with his tail wagging and she bent down to fuss him, getting a lick on her face for her trouble.

Yuck! she exclaimed and wiped her face with the back of her hand. Bob was a mongrel who lived in the woods, and his breath stank.

Together the threesome strolled companionably around the woods and up to their hilltop clearing. From here they had an elevated view back across Clara’s estate on one side of the hill, and down to the scrubland where Luke’s Gypsy family camped on the other side.

What shall we do today? asked Clara.

Luke flushed. Well, I had been looking forward to seeing you shape-shift.

Clara grinned. She’d been hoping he would say that. She peered about. They were alone on the hilltop, as usual. Okay, she said. Let’s see...

Suddenly Luke and Bob were looking at a black collie dog, instead of a thirteen-year-old girl. Bob turned away, unimpressed – he’d seen that trick before. But Luke stared in surprise, his eyes widening.

Clara barked and wagged her tail in delight at his reaction. She was happy. This was the first time she’d been able to transform in the daytime. She rose to her feet and, turning round, transformed into a sleek blue/grey shorthaired cat.

Meow, she said, and rubbed her head against Luke’s leg. He seemed unsure what to do. Clara lifted her front paws from the ground and brushed herself against Luke’s hand, before trotting away and climbing a nearby tree. Strutting proudly along a branch, she came to a stop. Checking to make sure Luke was still watching, she transformed into a Tawny owl. Luke gulped then laughed with delight, clapping his hands at Clara’s performance. Clara tilted her head in acknowledgment, then spread her wings and took off.

She soared up over the trees and over her estate, her sharp eyes seeing children kicking a ball in her street and her mum hanging out washing in the back garden. She banked over the woodland and flew over to the Gypsy camp – a cluster of eight caravans in a clearing. There, children were playing football, while women hung washing out to dry.

So similar, Clara mused, and yet a world apart. She flew back towards the hilltop clearing, thinking she might land on Luke’s shoulder, but veered off at the last moment when she lost her nerve. Instead she landed on a tree branch then, hopping down, transformed back into her dog form, picked up her pile of clothes in her mouth and disappeared behind a bush to transform back to her human self and get dressed.

Moments later she reappeared, grinning. What did you think? she asked.

You’re amazing, breathed Luke. Clara blushed furiously. Luke flopped down to the ground and gazed out at the view, giving Clara a chance to compose herself.

It felt really natural, said Clara. She sat beside him, her eyes slightly glazed as she thought about what she’d just done. She felt slightly breathless and dizzy from the thrill of her accomplishment. When I had the curse, it used to take a lot of effort and concentration to transform, but it’s easy now. I just think about the animal and then become it.

What does it feel like when you change? asked Luke, wanting to compare Clara’s experience with his own.

It’s difficult to describe, said Clara slowly. There’s a tingling sensation that runs all through my body, and I can feel myself shrinking.

Does it hurt? asked Luke.

No, nothing like that, replied Clara. It’s wonderful. And she flushed again, this time with pleasure.

You told me before you could communicate with animals. Can you still do that? asked Luke.

Clara thought for a moment. Without warning, Bob stood up and pounced on Luke, madly licking his face and neck.

Aargh! said Luke, raising his arms to defend himself and push the dog off. Clara laughed. Bob left Luke alone as suddenly as he’d pounced, and lay back down on the grass, looking pleased with himself.

Yes, I can still do that, spluttered Clara, still laughing at Luke’s expression.

Luke grinned sheepishly. Bob, your breath stinks, he said.

I can communicate with any animal, Clara went on. I can also affect their behaviours, and moods.

So, you can make animals do what you want them to do? asked Luke.

Yes, but I try not to unless it’s absolutely necessary, replied Clara. After all, what right do I have to interfere with them that way?

Luke nodded in understanding. "Have you done