Free Changelings by Anne McCaffrey

followed him, and the otter right after her.
    Wolves probably eat seals too.
    Yes, but we can scare them away when we turn into people,
Murel said. But she didn’t think that through. She just knew that wolves never bothered her father or her aunt Sinead while they were in the woods. Most sled dogs were part wolf anyway, and she wasn’t afraid of them.
    It didn’t occur to her that nothing had threatened Ronan and her because since they were babies they had been escorted everywhere by a snow leopard and a very large track cat.
    A long long dive into the ice cave running beneath the otter tunnels and then, at last, open water. First Ronan surfaced, then the otter, then Murel.
    There. There’s the slide. Right there. Slide down. Be quick.
    Below, the wolves were howling while the otters chittered, chirruped, and hahed as they tried to scramble away. Then one screamed.
    Without shaking himself dry, Ronan slid down the long frozen cataract in seal form, Murel and the otter close behind him.
    At the bottom he saw a wolf with an otter in its mouth. The little beast was still alive and snapping its teeth for all it was worth.
    The wolves lined the riverbank and blocked the ice downstream. The cataract prevented the otters from climbing back up.
    Before she shook herself off, Murel dug a hole in the ice with her claws and told the otter,
Get the others into the water, quickly.
    But that’s my mother!
    We’ll try to save her.
    Ronan shook himself dry and instantly was a naked boy. No time to put on the silver suit.
Get your teeth out of that otter right this minute,
he snapped at the wolf, trying to look as menacing as he could, which wasn’t very.
    Mine,
the wolf snarled back.
    Look at that, he’s already defurred!
another pack member, this one about a year-old pup, said.
Can I have him, sire? Can I?
    I don’t know, son,
the alpha male growled uncertainly
. There’s something fishy about those two big ones. They were seals just a minute ago. Now they look like men. Men have firesticks, and besides, you never know what they’ve been into. They might be bad for you.
    Just let the otter go and be on your way and nobody gets hurt,
Ronan told the wolves.
Besides, wolves don’t normally eat otters. And we have it on good authority that these ones are poisonous.
    She doesn’t
smell
poisonous,
the wolf holding the otter argued, slitting her eyes suspiciously.
    Neither does he,
the young wolf said, slinking closer to Ronan with hindquarters tensed to spring.
He smells delicious.
    By then the last of the otters had popped into Murel’s hole and she had changed. While the wolves circled, she put on her silver suit and looked around for a weapon. Ronan’s skin was covered with goose bumps. With her entire body protected by the suit, she was better able to defend herself than he.
    The female wolf shook the furious snapping otter mother trying to break her neck. Without thinking, Murel took a long slide forward, bowling into the wolf, and smacked her hard on the muzzle with the side of her mitten, making her drop the otter.
    Run!
she told the smaller creature, but there was no need. The otter hit the water before Murel had formed the thought.
    Now there was a new problem. A circle of hungry wolves tightened around Murel and Ronan, so close the twins could smell their breath, which was doggy and rotten at the same time. The wolf who’d had the otter leapt to her feet and with both front feet stiff brought them down sharply in front of Murel, snarling,
Thief!
    Ronan had used the distraction to seal himself into his own silver suit.
    Now what is he, sire?
The yearling who’d asked permission to hunt Ronan sounded bewildered.
A fish? These creatures can’t make up their minds what they are. But they still smell like prey to me.
    And so they are, son, and so they are. Those flimsy shiny hides won’t protect them if we all jump them at once. Ready . . .
The female wolf waggled her hindquarters, poised to spring. Murel lost her nerve