Free Guardian Hound by Leah Cutter

trying so hard to be good, to always stay a dog and to act more like one, as though he only had dog thoughts in his head, but it was hard.
    â€œI can make it easier,” Oma said.
    Lukas pushed harder against her chest. Yes. Better. Now.
    â€œNormally, a hound soul circles the human one, rising only when called. For a while, I can change that. Make your human soul circle your hound soul.”
    Lukas shivered. It sounded scary, making his human soul go away.
    Hamlin pushed forward, leaning on him, assuring him that Hamlin would keep them safe.
    Lukas nodded.
    â€œGood. That Tilgard suspects something. You need to hide better.”
    Lukas stilled. What was Oma asking of him now? Not that it mattered. He wouldn’t deny her anything. They shared too many secrets.
    â€œI’m going to smuggle you away, out of here.”
    Lukas dropped his head and gave a great sigh. Away from the castle, away from Da and Mama and Greta and everything he’d ever know….He’d be lonely, but he suspected it would be easier to stay in one shape, away from them.
    Plus, if he and Hamlin were far from the hound master, maybe he could change back into a real boy at night.
    Slowly, Lukas nodded, giving his consent. It would only be for a year or two, right? Though that now seemed like an eternity.
    â€œGood, good. Rudolf Von DeWhite will be your guardian. I trust him. Rudi. Not with all your secrets, but he’ll keep you safe. He’s a scent hound, not a sight hound.”
    Lukas understood what that meant: Rudolf wasn’t part of the court. Lukas thought he remembered Rudolph from a visit once.
    â€œThere are others, too, whom I have trained, who will hide your true location, confuse the search,” Oma continued, whispering. “So, first, a potion to put your human soul to sleep. Then, tonight, the full spell.”
    Why did Oma sound so sad at that? Lukas twisted in her lap, leaning up to lick at her nose.
    Oma put her hands around Lukas’ head and looked deeply into his eyes. “I’m only doing this because I must,” she said almost soundlessly. “Believe me.”
    Lukas didn’t know why she was so worried.
    Hamlin didn’t either, but he would guard them both and make sure nothing bad happened.
    # # #
    The potion stank of dank seaweed and bitter, early roots. Without being told, Hamlin memorized the signature, teasing apart the components so they’d always be wary of them.
    Though Oma had added good meat broth, Lukas had a hard time lapping it up. The bitter taste curled around his tongue, slimy and oily, and even the large bowl of water that he lapped up next couldn’t chase it away.
    By the time Lukas finished the water, his little Scottish terrier body could barely stand. The room moved, even when he kept perfectly still, the floor tilting up.
    â€œSleep now, good boy, sleep,” Oma crooned.
    Hamlin rose up to guard them, and Lukas slipped into the comforting dark.
    For the first time since he’d taken dog shape, Lukas dreamed of the shadows that night. He stood alone and human in his room, grateful to be a boy again, to stand and stretch. He could reach his bed without jumping, and wear clothes again.
    Then the shadows attacked. Buzzing like gnats, stinging like nettles, they tried to invade him. He had to keep his mouth shut or they’d crawl inside him, and he had to breathe shallowly as well. There was no place he could go and hide; he couldn’t outrun them, not in human form. They stole his life as he stood there, making him feel tired and old.
    They talked to him, in the dream, told him lies. If only he’d let them in, just have a part of him, just a little. It would all be fine. They’d stop hurting him, and they’d never hurt anyone else, either.
    But he knew that if he let them in, they’d take over not just him, but all the hounds, then all the world, turning everything dark and stripping away all the laughter and joy.
    As