A Parallel Prelude

This prelude is dedicated to all those who found the Parallel, and told me theyd like to spend a little more time there...

The snow had been falling heavily for days. Heavier than Id ever seen it before. My Dad used to say winters were for snow, and snowmen, and snowball fights, but back home we never seemed to get more than a couple of centimetres. Just enough to make things slick and slippy not enough to have a laugh with. Not like this year. This year it kept coming. We had gone back to Grans house, halfway up Blackford Hill, and just camped-out, recovering. We were living off things we found hoarded in her freezer, in daft combinations. Cake and sausage rolls. Ice cream and oven chips. Meatballs and mascarpone. It was the maddest Christmas dinner Id ever had, that year. That was good in a way. It kept me distracted. I suppose we should talk about it, I said to Morgan, as I picked over my random fruit salad. Eve had found a cache of tins at the back of a cupboard. The labels had got damp and curled off, so wed taken turns to shake them and guess what was inside.

Talk bout what? Morgan said. You know. About what Gran did. About what she was really up to, I thought but didnt say. About the last time I saw her, swirling away into that black vortex. About the gamble we made, in order to save my life Morgan paused mid-chew. Seriously? I dunno. I stared down at my bowl. There were peaches, pineapples and plums floating about in the sugary water but I was fairly sure the shrivelled grey things were cocktail sausages. Random fruit salad fail. Hmm. Not really, I said, picking out the sausages, one by one. Maybe not just yet. Thank Fat Moon for that. Morgan reached for a chicken drumstick. Because Im rubbish at talking. Eve wrinkled her nose. Eatings more your style, isnt it? Always play to your strengths, yeah? Morgan grinned. Now gimme the streaky bacon. Im famished. We kept eating, and we didnt talk about it. Some things are too big to put into words.

After our bizarre meal, we went out sledging. Sliding down the road, sitting on bin liners, shouting. The neighbours didnt like it one bit. They took it in turns to come out their snow-draped houses bundled-up

in their winter clothes and stand at the garden gates, glowering at us, like a load of vengeful gnomes. Theyd never liked Gran, I knew that. And now she was gone, I could see they didnt like me or my strange friends either. Why isnt old Ms Ives taking you in hand? Youve got an entire hillside to rumpus over! Mr McWhelan waved his stick at us. Must you cause a nuisance in the road? Think of the cars! He was talking rubbish. No one had dared drive their car up or down the frozen street in days. I started to say something, but Eve shot me a glance. Youthful high spirits. Pay no heed, she said in her poshest voice to Mr McWhelan. Ill see it doesnt happen again. She looked so grown-up and responsible, she had a way of convincing people to listen to her. I could see her charm working on Mr McWhelan already. So long as you do, young lady. So long as you do. He tottered back into his house. Stupid old silly, muttered Eve, sticking out her tongue. I stifled a laugh. That was epic! Morgan came puffing up the hill, taking great loping strides. The snow lay so deep now, it was almost tipping over the top of his biker boots. He held out the tattered remains of a bin-liner. I think Ive worn this one out, though. Thats ok, I said. I spotted some giant tea trays stashed in the kitchen. Gran mustve had them in case the entire street ever called round for coffee. Like

that was going to happen. I reckon theyd be great for sledging, though. Yes! Morgan threw back his head, and gave a great, whooping howl. Tea tray sledging! Bring it on! Always so noisy! said Eve. I think we should all go inside. Its too cold and icy for much more fun. I started to protest, and she firmly took the remains of the bin bag from my hand. You must be sensible, Cameron. Youre still getting better, arent you? Youre still not entirely well. She stuck out her long fingers, and touched me under the ribs. I flinched. Beneath my hoody, underneath three layers of t-shirts, lay a patch of dull-red scarred skin: a stab-wound from an ancient magical spearhead. It had sealed over almost instantly but I could never forget how I got it. I brushed her hand away, stepped back. Its not bothering me, I said. Im surprised it doesnt hurt more. Considering. Well, ok. If youre sure. Maybe just one more go. Eve plonked the bin bag down on the ground, and swiftly arranged herself on top. For me, that is! She pushed off, slithering down the hill with increasing speed, and letting out a continuous high-pitched scream. Morgan and I exchanged looks. One moment shes all grown-up, I said. The next shes a tiny kid. Morgan shrugged. Makes a weird sort of sense. Eve looked like she was a good six or seven years older

than me: around twenty, I reckon. But on the inside she was more like ten. Growing up under the thrall of a daemon can do strange things to you. Particularly when that daemon decides to set up home inside your head Neither me nor Morgan had the foggiest idea if she could ever be put back, if she could be de-aged to look like the girl she really was inside the girl she had been before Mrs Ferguson dug her eight spooky claws in. I suppose we shouldve been working on it. Going through my Grans old books day and night to see if we could find a clue what to do. Venturing out into the Parallel that strange, twisted layer of reality that lies halfway between the human world and its daemon equivalent to seek advice from the creatures that lurked there. But to tell you the truth, I had something else on my mind. I had problems of my own

All day long, I didnt have to think about it. Every time it popped into my head, Id just push it away. Not now, not now, Id think. Its not like I can do anything to stop it so why torture yourself? Instead Id mess about on my guitar, practising chords. Id get Morgan to listen to songs I liked and hoped hed love too. Sometimes I played games with

Eve; all the old classics like Monopoly, Twister, Jenga. She seemed thrilled by them. She claimed shed never played any of them before. Why would I have? Those werent the sort of games Mrs Ferguson liked to play, Eve said, drawing her knees up to her chin. But you didnt always stay with old spider-face, I said recklessly. You mustve played board games before you lived with her I stopped. Eves eyes had gone large. Sorry. Its none of my business. I sort of remember before, but not much, she said. All this snow sitting round outside I dont know. It seems familiar. Its making things come back. Like you used to get major snow back home? Maybe. She got up quickly, almost knocking over the board. Monopoly is dull with two. Im going to get Morgan. Morgan was nowhere to be found. It didnt surprise me. I hadnt said anything to Eve, but Id caught him sneaking out the back door the other night. Id grabbed his arm, and asked him where he was off to. Hed growled and shaken me off. You remember what happened last time, Shorty! I cant be like that again. Ive got to get my head together, if Im gonna... Keep control? He nodded. So go get some shut-eye. Dont worry about me. Its not you Im worried about, I burst out. Youve

had your whole life to be this thing. To cope with it. Its all new to me! I dont know if I can Hey, we dont know if youre like me, not yet. There was a lot of strange old magic whizzing around that night. He grinned his lopsided grin, exposing sharp white teeth. You might be unlucky. You could still be totally human. Pure monkey! My hand went to my shoulder, the location of my other scar: a row of red teeth-marks sunk deep either side of the bone. It was taking its time to heal. When will I know? For sure? Morgan pointed up. Above the brown and green dome of the Observatory, between thick grey clouds, there was a hint of silver shining through. He whistled. Soon enough. If shes got you, she wont ever let you forget. He pulled his army greatcoat around him, and stepped into the frosty garden. Looks like its going to be another cold one See you tomorrow, Shorty. Try and get some sleep.

Still the snow kept coming. As it got further into the New Year, they even stopped the trains. I had to call my friend Amy, and beg off coming over to see her. Unless you send a helicopter, Im stuck.

Youve had a lucky escape, she said. Mums even madder than usual this year. Not possible, I dead-panned back. Even though I liked Amys mum, really. Amy, I hear you! Every word. Dont tell lies about me to lovely Cameron! Ask him when were going to see him! Mum butt out! Boundaries! When Im on the phone, thats private. We talked about that, remember? Amy sighed. So how was Christmas with spooky Grandma? Any top presents? Did you party like it was 1945? I paused, not wanting to lie to her. Shes not here right now. Its kind of a long story Are you on your own? Youre not, are you, Cam? Tell me honestly. I glanced at Morgan. Ice cream was dripping down his face, and he looked utterly outraged. Eve ran away from him, giggling. In response, he dug the wooden spoon hed been eating off into the ice cream tub, and began to carve out a boulder. Right. Just. You. Wait! No, Im with friends, I said. Pretty stupid loud friends. Oh. Morgan. Amy sniffed. I can hear someone laughing. Is that a girl? Cameron, you smooth operator... Its Eve. Shes a friend That makes it worse! Amy squealed. Ive been replaced The handset flew out my hands and cracked to pieces on the floor. Morgan gaped at me dopily. The flex had tangled round his legs as he lurched after Amy.

I picked up the shattered phone. It was properly dead, and I just sort of snapped. Thats just awesome, isnt it! Now were totally cutoff! No buses, no trains, no internet and now no phone either! Chill, Shorty. Its just a bit of fun Yeah, it is, isnt it? Its just fun. Thats all there is, isnt there? I looked around. Gran wouldve had a fit if she could see the state her neat and tidy house had got into. Dirty dishes all over the kitchen. Crumpled clothes all over the floor. Ice cream running down the wall. We hang about here, day after day, eating leftover food and doing nothing Yeah, I know. Great isnt it? No, its not! It stopped being great days ago! As I said the words, I knew they were true. Its amazing how much fun you can have when theres no one to tell you to stop, to mind the furniture, to go to bed, to do your homework, go to school... But after a bit, you get sick of it, you know? Its like eating too much chocolate cake. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Eve popped out the hall cupboard, where shed been hiding. Cameron, were sorry! We didnt mean to make you mad. Shes right, mate. It was only a laugh Whatever. I dont care, I said. You guys go crazy. Destroy the place. Im going to bed. Cameron Shorty I ignored them both.

Morgan and Eve. The Wolf Boy and the Girl Who Grew Up in Her Sleep. I hadnt known them long, but they were both important to me. They didnt half annoy me sometimes, though. For such a long time, it was just me and Dad. And after Dad died, it was me and Gran. I was used to my own space time to myself. Time to think... In my room, as I got ready for bed, I couldnt help lifting the curtains, and looking. Checking the progress of the moon. It was growing all the time, turning from crescent to circle, sliver by sliver, getting bigger every night. I could feel my heart pounding as I looked, like it wanted to crack open my ribs and leap right out my chest. Was that the Fat Moon, taking hold? Making changes go on inside me, whether I wanted them or not? I let the heavy curtains drop. Every night, the later it got, the more I thought about it. As the red LEDs on the clock clicked unstoppably round, Id start imagining about what might happen, what itd feel like, if I could stop it if I really wanted to stop it and my heart would thump so bad, like Id drunk ten cups of Grans black coffee, and it would take hours to get to sleep. I didnt even know if that meant I was scared or excited. Daft, eh? Maybe it was both.

How ya doin, Shorty? Shorty. Why does he call me that? Morgans long ratty blond hair is sticking out all round his beanie hat. How do you feel? he says. Nervous. Excited. Both. I shrug in an exaggerated way. I dont know. Youll be fine. Once it starts, its pretty much instinctual. He crunches on ahead of me, up the hill. He has this weird sort of loping stride, like his bones dont quite fit together, or hes got growing pains or something. Which is odd, because when he runs, he runs fast. Hes a bit taller than me, but a lot broader. I used to think he was a couple of years older but how do werewolves count their age? Are they like people or are they like dogs, and every single human year ages them about seven? And what does that mean for me? Oh yeah, didnt I tell you? Im a werewolf too. Or I might be. All because Morgan bit me. I asked him to, you see. Hold up, its not as weird as it sounds... When I came to live with her, Gran promised me things stuff I should never have agreed to. She said she could bring my Dad back, she could return him from

the dead, if only Id help her. But she had darker ideas than that ideas I dont really want to think about. And the only way out was for Morgan to bite me and let the wolf run through Actually, that is every bit as weird as it sounds. Not long now, Shorty, eh? Morgan looked back at me. Til Fat Moon time. I can feel it calling. In the moonlight, Morgans face is angular and strange, like hes already not quite human. Hes always been a werewolf he was born to it. When he changes, he becomes a huge white wolf. But the shift and the call of the moon is all new to me new and scary. Humans whove been bitten often dont work out right. They dont change all the way. Its like theyre not quite wolfy enough, and instead they end up half way between human and dog and just as mad, and messy, and angry, as that sounds. Trust me, I know. Ive watched it happen. But what will happen to me? My hand fidgeted in my jacket pocket, twitching and itching. I drew it out, and scratched in irritation. My fingers met hair proper, dense hair. Its starting. I glanced at Morgan, tried to call out, but the sound that left my mouth was garbled a sort of whining growl. He spun to face me, and I saw he was changing too. His mouth and nose were elongating, as if the bone beneath the skin was growing, reshaping his features

into a muzzle. His ears were lengthening, becoming pointed. The green of his iris pooled outward, and the whites of his eyes vanished. I wondered: is that how Im changing too? I kept expecting it to hurt, for it to rip through me in an agony of shifting bone and tearing flesh, but it was more like stretching and working life back into muscles that were dormant after too long a rest. I felt cramped and fuzzy, as if Id been shut up inside a box for months. Suddenly the door to the box was open, and I was filled with an energy that I hadnt had before. I fell forward, touching the ground. Black paws on white snow. Wolf-Morgan stared back me. Reflected in the green of his eyes, I saw myself. A huge dark wolf, strong and powerful and perfect. No hint of human-me at all. Im not a mixed-up monster I changed! I changed completely! I gave a yip of joy. Morgan started to run, and I followed

That was how it started. The first night of the wolf month. It felt so good, running through the snow with Morgan, discovering my new domain all mapped out in vivid scent and sound and sight.

I thought it would last forever. But it couldnt. This is the story of how my world fell apart. And how I fought to put it all back together. This is the story of the Werewolf Parallel.

Illustration by Mark Manley