Transformed [W&W Book 1]

Chapter 1

Yet no, that was not really true. Her mind rebelled against Francine's enticing words. She was not going to obey. They were leaving.

Daphne shook her head as if to clear it.

The disembodied voice rang out again in cold laughter. "Oh, my dear Theresa. You truly are a talent. You've learned to ignore my voice and my commands, have you?"

Theresa struggled to find a response.

Francine's voice was silk. "I suppose I shall have to deal with you two in a different manner. You've left me no choice. A shame, really. I prefer to handle matters in a gentler way."

Theresa squared her shoulders and found the words of her will. "I already told you we are leaving, Francine. We are—"

Theresa's defiance was cut short as another bright flash of the unnatural light sped towards Theresa and Daphne. Instinctively, Theresa pushed her younger sister out of the way and flung herself the other direction. Whatever magic the light indicated could not be good.

She was too slow. The flash hit Theresa before she was fully clear of its radius.

Theresa collapsed to the ground. Her body shook uncontrollably.

What had her aunt done to her?

Daphne stared in horror at Theresa by the dim light of her lantern. Theresa did not want to stop and consider what might have put such a terrible expression on her sister's pretty face.

Theresa experienced an horribly cold tingling sensation as it worked its way through muscle and bone.

"Theresa! You, you are—" Daphne stuttered.

The voice rang out in another siren song. "Good girl, Daphne. Now pick up your sister and come back to the castle. I'll restore Theresa once you're safely inside."

The tone was deceptively reassuring and felt so compelling it was as if their aunt was present and physically pulling them towards her.

Theresa's mind felt thick and slow. The rest of her body felt oddly distant, almost as if it had been somehow disconnected from her mind. She could not make her arms move to push herself up; she could not move her legs.

Theresa could not even obey her aunt and return to the castle any more than she could make herself disobediently run away.

She was forced to watch with silent detachment as her sister stood up.

Yet even through her sluggish mind she still knew she had to disagree with Francine's words. Theresa had to break Francine's spell on Daphne again and they had to get out of there.

Theresa opened her mouth to convince her sister, but no words came out.

Instead, there was another unrecognizable strangled sound that bore almost no resemblance to her voice.

Then, Theresa experienced an odd sensation when Daphne swept her up into her arms, as if she weighed no more than a bag of flour. How was her delicate sister able to lift her so easily?

Theresa tried to speak again, but again the same sound emerged.

As if urged on by Theresa's strangled attempt at speech, Daphne began to run.

Theresa was thankful that Daphne was putting distance between them and their aunt. Daphne must have broken through their aunt's compulsion spell without any further help from Theresa.

It was most fortunate, because Theresa felt so wrong, so disjointed.

Perhaps Daphne had gained strength from the increased distance between them and their aunt, perhaps the tangled freedom of the forest inspired her, or perhaps Daphne's resolution had grown stronger.

Whatever the reason, it was a sheer relief they were putting distance between themselves and Francine.

In spite of her relief they were still free, the horrible revelation of what Francine had inflicted on her continued to unfold at the edge of Theresa's mind. She did not really want to accept it, but the reality could not be completely ignored.

Theresa was being carried by her fragile sister. It was impossible, but it was happening.

Francine had no reason to make Daphne stronger, ergo Theresa understood that she had to be smaller.

She, who was seldom at a loss for words could not form the simplest syllable. Clearly something was terribly wrong.

Theresa seemed to have become a miniature mute. What had that evil woman done to her?

Without conscious thought, Theresa's eyes moved around as she bounced along in her sister's arms. The strap of Daphne's bag rubbed uncomfortably against her face. Her eyes stopped briefly on her hand. Horror unfurled in the her stomach.

Her hand was covered in black fur. Her hand was not a hand. It was a paw.

Fur? Paw? Theresa yowled in horror. The horrible, inhuman sound only reinforced the reality of the situation in which she found herself in.

"Shush!" hissed Daphne. "Do you want to make it easier for her to find us?"

"But I'm not human!" Theresa tried to say, although it sounded like a meow. Her eyes widened at the unfamiliar noise. The sound of a feline!?

Surely that was an impossibility? What sort of horrible nightmare had she been thrust into where Daphne was the one taking charge and cautioning Theresa to be careful?

"Shush! I don't know what you're saying, but I can imagine. Theresa, we'll do something about it, I promise."

Theresa could not imagine how that might happen. If her only hope was her meek, quiet, and terribly docile sister making plans and finding assistance Theresa knew that there was a strong possibility that she might just be stuck as a cat forever.

The terrible thought sent a cold shiver down her spine, not entirely unlike the magic that had brought her to this unthinkable point.

What could a cat possibly do in a human world? She would be utterly helpless. She needed to be human again. She wanted to be herself!

Daphne continued to run through the forest; Theresa tried to control her panic.

Even the sight of the main road as a symbol oftheir chance at freedom did nothing to calm her.

* * * * *

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