Guardian Hound Read Online Free PDF Page B

Was he about to change into his hound form for the first time? Was that why he couldn’t sit still anymore?
    â€œI would say soon,” Felix replied.
    Could he wait? Lukas rocked back and forth, his chest expanding, then contracting, already feeling the rhythm of a running as a hound at full sprint. “Hurry,” he whispered, unable to say more.
    Lukas tilted his head back, nose high, as scents poured in, traces he’d never noticed before: the eggs and honeydew Felix had had for breakfast; the lavender lotion Oma had used before she’d visited the classroom, late, the night before; and the twisted grass and twine charm that hung in the corner with its unexpected magic.
    Tilgard’s scent rolled before him, clean lemongrass soap mingled with the rabbit fur he always wore tied to his belt and the bacon treats he kept in his pocket.
    Lukas whined when he saw the hound master, begging him to hurry . Lukas couldn’t hold on much longer.
    Tilgard hurried to his side, dropping to his knees in front of Lukas. “Sudden one, eh? You’re young, too. Well, that’s not unknown,” he said brusquely. He spread his hands wide and placed them around Lukas’ head, pressing in slightly.
    Tension bled out of Lukas. He suddenly felt secure. He whined again as his head strained forward, as if he could help push his snout out.
    â€œOpen your mouth,” Tilgard instructed.
    Lukas did. He was panting, his tongue long and alive, drawing in more scents, like the fish the cooks were making in the kitchen; Greta pretending to work in her classroom but really reading some book with modern paper; Oma in her study, hidden there by magic and shadows…
    Lukas shook his head, wanting to break free.
    Tilgard held on tighter. “Almost there, son. Focus on the gardens.”
    Outside! Lukas jerked his head out of Tilgard’s hands and looked out the window. He barked and shivered, thinking about how he could run now, really truly run, finally, if only he could get free.
    Lukas shook himself again, finally shaking himself completely loose.
    It was no longer his body. He wasn’t connected to it at all.
    Lukas retreated into black nothingness and curled in on himself. It was worse than the shadows—just endless darkness as far as all his senses could tell.
    Then his hound soul rose.
    Suddenly, Lukas was no longer alone in the dark or afraid. Another soul curled in around his, warm and steady.
    Hamlin .
    Lukas was aware enough to know that not all hounds had a human name. For most, it was just a sense, a presence that was composed of odor and sight. (Not that the hound didn’t have a name for himself, but that was a dog name, and not a human one.)
    Hamlin had both a presence and a scent, the combined smells of wool warmed by the fire and the hard steel of a soldier’s bayonet, as well as musty hound. He wasn’t a puppy, or even a young dog. Hamlin already knew duty.
    His job was to guard.
    Lukas was surprised at how protective Hamlin was. No one would harm Lukas while Hamlin was there. Not even the shadows.
    Lukas rolled back in the warm comforting darkness of Hamlin’s soul, happy to let go of his fear. He felt a tiny thread of disappointment—not from Hamlin, no, but from the man with the rabbit fur.
    Did he really expect either Hamlin or Lukas to pay him any heed?
    Neither of them recognized his authority. He was not their master nor the leader of their pack.
    Run? Lukas asked.
    Faster than any others, Hamlin promised, and soon they shared the wind on their face as he galloped under the trees and across the fields.
    Almost fast enough to outrun the shadows.
    # # #
    When Lukas came back to himself late that evening, he was crouching, naked, in the gardens near the woods. The ground felt solid and cool under his toes. The air carried the scent of sunset, while the sky blazed orange and pink.
    Felix carried the traditional cloak with him, rich red wool lined with the softest