Transformed [W&W Book 1]

Chapter 8

Theresa walked into the cottage through the door that Daphne held open for her, wondering if she was being foolish and still walking straight into a trap.

This man was a bit odd. Why would anyone live so isolated, deep in the forest?

Could he have been placed there by Francine? It was completely possible that this stranger had only been kind to Daphne to trick her into trusting him.

She followed him with her eyes while he moved about the cottage, looking completely and suspiciously harmless.

Well, perhaps not completely harmless when she remembered those sticky invisible threads, but he seemed to be relaxed and calm. Her feline side was not concerned, but Theresa wondered if her cat feelings were lulling her into a false sense of complacency.

Theresa's fur felt distressingly messy, so she started rearranging it with her tongue. It was a soothing feeling to have the fur was put back in order.

She continued to watch the man as he moved towards the fire, then brought a dish towards her. She wondered how old he was. He was probably not more than ten years older than she.

Theresa's eyes left the stranger long enough to look in the bowl.

Milk! Theresa immediately began to lap at the warm liquid.

Her cat side was completely content and had instantly been won over by the man, traitor that it was. It decided then and there that he could be her own beloved servant, good human that he obviously was. This man knew how to treat a cat.

Her human side still had a lot of questions as she took in his appearance between laps.

The stranger looked rather normal in the light of the cabin if she discounted the weird distorted colors of the world.

Like Daphne, his skin was a washed out grey, except a shade darker. He wore well tended hardy clothing and had slightly shaggy hair and a modest beard that was slightly darker than his hair; his entire form was awash in various shades of grey.

He appeared to be just an average common man. Really, he could have been any of the laborers on her own lands.

Except, the average laborer could not construct magic spider's webs. He was clearly a magic user of some sort. That might explain why she felt the unpleasant prickling when she came close to the cabin.

She hoped he was a wizard. Witches and warlocks were said to be more dangerously unpredictable from what Theresa had heard.

Dangerous or not, he probably was not as dangerous to their liberty as her aunt was and better still, perhaps he could help her with her transformation.

Theresa was flooded with sudden hope. If he could help her return to her original form, it would be worth enduring a hundred nasty, magical webs.

As if realizing the million questions running through her mind, the man started talking. "I would just like to apologize for your rude welcoming."

Theresa would have said that she forgave the indignity had she been capable of speech, but rather meowed amiably and inclined her head in what she hoped was a gracious movement.

She was really having trouble remaining suspicious of the man after he had freed and fed her.

His rather normal and benign appearance and his understated mannerism did not help, it rather made her feel at ease when she still needed to be on guard.

"I should, no doubt, start at the beginning. I am the Wizard Jim Hatcher and this is my home as you no doubt have reasoned out. Your sister set off a few of my wards as she was wandering the forest. I do have a few unexpected visitors out here from time to time, usually seeking my help on some minor enchantment or a magical favor. Often they end up lost so I keep an ear out."