Shades of Grey

JZASACH— NOVEMBER 1843

I awoke that night to Farrah knocking feverishly at the front door of the guesthouse.

“Jacob! Jacob, please wake up, it’s urgent!”

It took me a minute to recover from the hasty awakening before I had sense enough to leap out of bed and wrap the Pallitus around myself.

I rushed downstairs to open the door and no sooner had I pulled it open than Farrah hurried inside, leading a very baffled horse Forma in as well.

“What are you doing? What’s going on?” I asked as Farrah led Forma into the living room and drew the shades closed.

“He can’t find her, he loves meat...” Farrah answered almost inaudibly. “Especially live meat...”

“Farrah, what are you talking about? Is there a beast that stalks these parts?” I asked, watching her as she lifted a large trap door hidden under the floor rug. She swiftly urged Forma down the steps and turned to me.

“Get in! Please! It’s early this month!”

“Farrah, tell me what is going on or I can’t help you!” I roared as I strode toward her with dominant male fury coursing through me. I heard my own voice blend with the Jacob Keller voice, creating a strange two-tone howl that alarmed me.

Farrah shrank back, feeling a similar pang of alarm.

“Alright, I’ll tell you, just please come down here first.”

I took one step towards the staircase just as the clocks all around the house struck midnight and began clanging loudly.

“PLEASE HURRY!” Farrah cried hysterically.

A chorus of excruciating screams then broke through the ringing of clocks. It was the single worst sound I had ever heard and for a moment I couldn’t move.

“Hurry! Please! He’ll catch our scent!”

I snapped out of my brief daze and walked over to the trapdoor and down the small flight of steps. It led to a minute living space under the house with a tiny kitchenette and three mattresses on the floor next to an adjoining washroom.

“What is this?” I asked as Farrah locked the trapdoor and descended the stairs next to me.

“This is our safe room. There’s one in the house too. We come here every month during the extent of the full moon when it happens,” Farrah said. Her voice died away towards the end of her sentence, as though it was not easy for her to think about.

“When what happens?” I asked vehemently. Farrah looked at me hesitantly, as though telling a stranger was blasphemy.

“Farrah,” I gripped her shoulders, forcing her to look at me. “I might be able to help you, but I can’t know unless you tell me what is going on.”

Her dark eyes looked at me with a saddened dolour as she prepared to divulge the secret.

“Once a month, during the duration of the full moon, all of the men in Jzasach transform into werewolves.”

I let go of her shoulders in astonishment. The unusually large build of Mr Hallington and the other men suddenly made sense. How could I have not seen it sooner?

Farrah misread my reaction and tried to reconcile my alleged revulsion.

“It’s really not as horrible as it sounds! The walls have all been modified to withstand major claw damage, the furniture is all nailed to the floors and we installed these safe rooms to protect us during the change!” she cried, as though her father was not turning into a werewolf at that very minute. Then — as if to add prominence to my worrisome thoughts — several loud and hungry roars broke the air and rattled the brick walls of the so-called ‘safe room.’

“Farrah, how long has this been happening?” I asked steadily.

“I don’t know much about it, only that centuries ago something happened between the ancient Jzasachs and the Northern Witches, causing them to damn the men with the werewolf curse upon reaching the age of fifteen.”

“Why can’t the men just leave during the full moon?” I asked.

“There is some sort of invisible blockade around the city that prevents any Jzasach citizen from leaving. We think it’s some part of the curse.”

I took a step backwards just as raucous howling began raging above.

“So, all of you have been living with this for centuries? You haven’t sought the help of a Hunter or anything?” I asked.

“A Hunter? What kind of a Hunter?” she asked.

My mouth fell open in shock.

“A Creature Hunter! Someone who is trained to hunt down beasts like witches and werewolves!”

Farrah’s eyes widened in horror and right away I realised my blunder.

“The men are not beasts! They can’t help it! No one in this city will allow any of the men to be harmed!”

I took a breath and looked at Forma, who nodded and rested on the floor, quickly falling asleep. I took Farrah by the hands.

“Farrah, I am a Creature Hunter. I can help you with—”

She brought her hand brusquely across my face, leaving me dazed.

“Did you not hear what I said?! No Hunter will touch a single wolf in this city! No matter their impulsiveness during the full moon they are still the fathers, husbands, brothers and lovers that we all care for.”

I turned to her.

“I understand that, but I was not referring to the wolves. I was speaking of the Witches. If you can tell me where they are, I can possibly convince them to break the curse.”

Farrah shook, as if such an idea was inconceivable but greatly hoped for.

“I would, but no one knows. The Witches are clever at concealing themselves,” she said, reminding me of my Witch History lessons with Lady Zephyra.

“Right...I remember...” I said to myself as the two of us sat quietly while the chaos of the full moon reigned above us.