Russian.
The wolves howled louder. Their voices seemed to bounce off the moon and echo back again, surrounding them. And still Isabella wove her spell. The snarling reached a fevered pitch, and Nick watched the wolves as they rose on their hind legs, snapping and pawing at the air. They seemed to be hurting. Their chests heaved and expanded, looking like they might explode.
Wolf by wolf, they fell to the ground with a dull thud, one right on top of the other in a heap. They looked deadâall seven of them. Then Nick smelled itâthe unmistakable odor of Shadowkeepers. He had tried many times to think of a way to describe it: Egg salad sandwich left on a hot school bus for a week in the middle of June? Garbage dump mixed with dead skunk? But no matter how he tried to describe it, words could not capture the stench.
âLook!â Boris pointed. Seeping from the wolves, a black, oily substance filled the street, forming rivulets in the cobblestones.
âDonât let it touch you!â Theo commanded.
Theo, Isabella, Boris, and Nick backed away from the oil and watched for several minutes. Finally, the wolves stirred. They shivered and whimpered and then woke up as if they had been in a deep sleep. Nick watched as they began sniffing, rubbing noses, and licking each otherâs faces. They looked as tame as puppies.
âWhatâs going on?â he asked Isabella.
She beamed at him. âThey are free!â she announced.
âI knew you could do it,â he said.
Isabella instinctively rolled her eyes. But then she quietly said to Nick, âThanks for pushing me.â
The alpha male, easily 180 pounds or so, Nick thought, walked to Isabella and licked her hand. She buried her fingers in the ruff of his neck. âIâm so glad. I am so glad.â She knelt down and buried her face in the wolfâs fur. The other six in the pack approached and surrounded her, licking her and nuzzling her. Nick was in awe. He could barely see the top of her head as the pack made her a part of their circle.
She spoke to them some more, then nodded. Finally, she stood with the wolves still surrounding her protectively.
âWe need to follow the trail to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Harry Houdini.â
âHarry Houdini?â Nick asked, shocked.
âThey were friends once,â Isabella said. âUntil the Shadowkeepersâand the Chalice of Immortalityâcame between them.â
The wolves trotted off, free from their curse. Nick, Isabella, Theo, and Boris wearily entered the bed and breakfast owned by Lady Daphne. She descended the staircase in a flowered flannel nightgown, her snowy white hair set in curlers, cold cream on her face.
âBlimey! You all look as if youâve seen a ghost.â
âNot a ghost,â Nick replied. âA pack of wolves.â
Lady Daphne paled. âWolves! Oh, my!â
âThey were under a spell,â Isabella offered.
âI was in the shower. I didnât hear a thing. You poor travelers! The beasts didnât harm you, did they now?â
âThanks to Isabella,â Theo said, putting his hand on Isabellaâs shoulder, âno. It could have been far, far worse.â
âWhat about Shakespeareâs home? Did you find any clues?â Lady Daphne asked. She walked to a large desk, opened a drawer, and extracted a room key.
âNo,â said Isabella. âBut the wolves offered us a clue. They said we must follow the trail to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.â
âAnd Harry Houdini,â Nick added.
âOh,â said Lady Daphne. âThatâs a sad taleâat least, the part that I know.â
âCan you tell us?â Nick asked.
âOver a spot of tea. And here.â She handed Theo the key. âThe four of you can have the two-room suite on the top floor. But firstâ¦tea to warm your tired bones and make you sleepy. Mine is a very special, magical tea. You will wake
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