Shakka didn’t vanquish the invisible nuisance. In fact, she hadn’t even dealt as much as a single scratch. Tired from chasing something she couldn’t catch, the young werewolf sat defeated against a pillow as large as a troll’s bed and sulked.

“You’re no fun at all,” the voice said.

“Just leave me be,” Shakka said. “Ow! Stop it!”

The voice sniggered. “I’m sorry, it just doesn’t get old.”

“It’s been hours. Why don’t you just kill me already? Or call for the guards.”

“The guards won’t come again until it’s my feeding time. Besides, there is no rush. It’s not like anyone else can get in.”

“I got in,” Shakka muttered.

“Correction, it’s not like anyone else is stupid enough to enter a Djinn’s throne room.”

Shakka sighed. “Stop poking me. I actually wish for the guards to show up now that you mentioned food.” There was a low rumble in her tummy. “I thought I could get hungry before, but ever since that damn goblina fed me, I’ve been getting ravenous.”

“Goblina? Oh, I see. The young demon upstart sent you. Stealing from Master Khorasan? Tut, tut. I didn’t know the boy had it in him.”

Shakka set her jaw tight.

“Ah—you weren’t supposed to reveal that tidbit of information, were you? Serves your master right for sending a whelp to do a wolf’s job.”

“I’m no whelp!” Shakka bit back. “And he’s not my master.”

“Not so loud. You don’t want to wake—”

“I don’t care if he wakes! You’re the one bothering me the whole time. I’m starting to believe the Djinn won’t wake, even if we brought down the entire castle around him!”

The voice sighed. “So you figured it out, did ye? I pushed a little too hard, I guess. Still, letting you believe you could actually wake the mighty Djinn was amusing for as long as it lasted. Like when you charged, whispering a battle cry as you ran toward where you thought I was. Priceless. I haven’t had such fun in ages.”

“Yeah, har, har. So funny. What are you anyway? An Imp—a Pixie?”

“Oh, no, nothing so mundane. My name is Hilla, the master’s most loyal servant. I’m an Aftabparst. My race has the ability to turn invisible.”

Shakka smacked her forehead. “You’re the Aftabparst? Juva tried to warn me about you! And I didn’t listen…”

“Oh? Did she tell you about our other ability?”

“No—what other ability?”

“Our greatest weapon. Come closer and lend me your ear. It is a secret that can only be whispered.”

Shakka swiveled her pointy ear toward that undertone. Part of her screamed it was a trap, but too late. Shakka jumped with a yelp as a sudden wet blob smacked against her inner ear. There was a suction sound when it drew back, and for a split moment, Shakka could glimpse a pink fleshy arm retreating into a wide-open mouth. She tried to rush after it, claws ready to scratch, but by the time she was there, the Aftabparst was gone.

“How do you like a wet ear?” The voice cackled loudly. “Let that be a lesson for you, whelp. Knowledge is power, and preparation is victory and to the victor go the laughs.”

Shakka wiped the disgusting slime from her ear and manes. “What is wrong with you?! Ugh.” She got down on a pillow and tried to wipe herself dry against it.

“I’m glad I held out on that one. That was perfect.”

“Yeah, real knee-slapper, mate. Heckin giggles all around! Ew, it won’t come off.”

There was a soft ‘pouf’ sound, which made Shakka suspect he’d sat down to catch his breath. The wheezing confirmed it.

“Why am I so stubborn?” Shakka muttered as she rubbed herself dry against the pillow. Getting everything off proved to be a real chore. At the same time, her tummy was feeling increasingly more empty. “Shut up, stomach. I know you’re hungry.” With a sullen look, the young werewolf sagged back onto her behind, wrapping her arms around her middle. “Something is really wrong, though. This hunger… It almost hurts.”

“That hungry, huh? Well, that’s inconvenient. I only eat every couple of days, but the guards did leave a delicious tray of maggots. Want some?”

Shakka shivered. “I don’t know if I’m that hungry yet… Still…”

“Hm? What’re you muttering there?”

Shakka looked at her hands. Since when did she have four of them? Her vision swam. Was the stimulating haze finally taking its toll? “I don’t feel so good…”

“Come now, you can’t get that hungry that quickly—whelp? Little whelp?”

Shakka tried to blink her vision straight, then staggered onto her feet when she caught a distinct odor wafting past. “It’s strange… I’m really hungry… Like, really, really hungry. I could eat anything.” She sniffed the air and found it alive, almost as if she could see color with her nose, and what she tracked looked very red. “Do you smell that?”

“S-smell what?”

Shakka turned toward the scent she’d picked up and licked her black teeth. “I’m not sure… It smells like… meat.”

“But there is no meat—”

Shakka grinned impishly. “Oh, I think there is.”

“N-no. That’s not possible! You can’t track me through the haze!” There was a sudden cry of terror as the Aftabparst fled, mounting the pillows frantically. “Master! Master, wake up! There is an intruder! Protect your servant!”

Shakka couldn’t stop grinning. Not because the Aftabparst was in such a state of panic, but because she felt almost weightless. Adrenaline rushed through her small body like never before. The young werewolf moved with a light step and coordination beyond her normal limits. Gone were the effects of the haze, and as quick as the Aftabparst was, she was right on its trail.

“Master, please! For the sake of all that’s—”

Shakka almost had him that time, but it didn’t annoy her. In fact, she was actually kind of liking the game—the hunt. Hopefully, he’d last a bit longer. “The Djinn can’t be awoken. Didn’t you say so yourself?”

“Get away from me!” the Aftabparst cried as he rounded the giant tiger head.

But Shakka didn’t lose him for a moment and jumped onto the furry shoulder of the bestial Djinn, then leaped down the other side, cutting the poor Aftabparst off. She pounced on him and pinned the lizard against the satin cushion.

“P-please! H-have mercy!” The Aftabparst cried. Absolute terror made his previously perfect camouflage flicker with the colors of the rainbow, and she got her first glimpse of him.

Shakka licked her teeth. “I have waited a long time to hear you beg for mercy, only for me to deny it!”

“No! Please!”

“Yeeees!”

~

“Stop her! Oh, no. She’s taken the master’s turnkey! Stop her!” Hilla ran as fast as his short legs could carry him, but without his tail for balance, he stumbled clumsily through the hall.

The two guards at the gate were slow to turn when they heard the cursing Aftabparst behind them. “I said, stop her!”

The werewolf was like a specter in the night, bounding in and out of view through the grand hallway. She leaped out the gate, landing dexterously on the Lieutenant’s helmeted head, who got spun around and promptly crashed into the captain.

“You’re letting her escape, you fools!” Hilla cried out.

The werewolf, still perched on the lieutenant’s helmet, turned her head, grinning while holding Hilla’s wriggling tail between her teeth. The next moment, she was gone. Sprung into the night’s inky blackness.

“No!” Hilla moaned, falling to his knees. “You idiots! You let her get away!”

The lieutenant tried to recover but fell back onto his rear. He pointed accusingly at the captain. “See! I told you I saw something!”

Hilla slumped, now thoroughly out of breath. “She made off with the master’s turnkey… And my tail…”

~

Having drunk until the break of dawn, Tarikh staggered down the hallway. The floor seemed to tilt under his feet, reminding him of when they’d accidentally sailed between two mating leviathans. The ritualistic tail, fin, and tentacle breaching could have scuttled the ship, but Captain Rudbar was every bit the seaman, as he was a great basteh sag player. After skillfully navigating the serpentine monsters, he returned below decks, and the two resumed their game until the early hours.

“Juva… Juva!”

“Yes, Master?” said the goblina from the other side of the door.

“Open the door… I can’t find my key,” he sighed. “Keys elude me these days. I think I left it—doesn’t matter.”

The metal lock twisted, and the door opened with a creak, but Juva kept back as if fearing the man would topple onto her, and he almost did. But Tarikh caught himself on the doorpost, raising a hand to rub his eyes.

“I see you’ve been drinking a lot,” Juva said.

“I have,” Tarikh said.

“Why don’t you just burn away the alcohol in your blood, Master?”

“Why would I? We’re not going anywhere.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Juva chirped.

“What’re you talking about?” Tarikh said as he ducked into the room and found the pup sitting on the bed surrounded by plates that seemed licked clean of grease. “Juva, why is she here?”

Shakka huffed, folding her arms impetuously. “Now that’s gratitude for ya.”

“Gratitude—” Tarikh was about to advance, but Juva’s gentle pull gave him pause.

“You should be thankful,” Juva said. “Because thanks to Shakka, you’re another step closer to realizing your goal.”

Tarikh turned sharply. “What do you mean?”

Shakka sprang to her feet, standing triumphantly on the bed. “Because I got you this.”

And there, in her outstretched hand, lay the deceptively humble-looking turnkey.

Tarikh’s eyes shot wide, and his gaze darted between the two gleeful girls. The alcohol burned away as molten lava rushed through his veins. “What?”

Juva snickered and rounded the Demon to stand next to the werewolf. “Shakka ‘borrowed’ it for us.”

Tarikh’s jaw dropped. “Shakka? How did you—” Lost for words, Tarikh took the turnkey from her small hand and inspected it, but there could be no mistake. It was Lord Khorasan’s key. “Where did you get this?”

Shakka crossed her arms with a smug smirk curving her jagged maw. “Well, it wasn’t easy getting into the Djinn’s castle. But, with my great skill and stealth, I got past the legion of guards stationed at every corner.”

“But how did you get into the throne room without a pass crystal?”

“Ha,” Shakka snorted, tapping her temple. “By using my superior intellect. I’d quickly deduced that such a magical gate needed some sort of backup spell just in case one had no crystal on hand.”

Tarikh furrowed his brow. “Brilliant, but how did you know what the spell—”

“Then! I battled the fiendish and terrible Aftabparst.”

“You mean Hilla—”

“His camouflage ability had me going at first. The toxic fumes limited my sense of smell and motion, but I eventually handled him with little difficulty. I was about to win when he resorted to his ultimate power; his stretchy poison tongue. It was then that I realized it would try to eat me. So, I had no choice but to do it.”

Tarikh blinked. What was this child on about? Hilla wasn’t dangerous at all. An annoying little bureaucrat, to be sure, but he stood barely three pa tall and certainly wasn’t some menacing monster. “Do what?”

The young werewolf flashed a devious grin. “Unleash my raw power. I used my devourer’s ability and tracked the creature through the toxic smog. Then, once I had him, I bit off his tail! Juva had it cooked for me.”

“You—ate Hilla’s tail?”

“With the guardian neutralized, the way was clear for me to swipe the key and escape with his own pass crystal. I then beat two—twenty Marmulek guards on the way out.”

Tarikh slowly turned to Juva. “Was all this your idea?”

Juva nodded, blushing. “It was… Was I wrong, my lord?”

Tarikh looked back at the tiny key in his calloused palm.

“M-master? I-if you’re upset, I can—”

“Upset?” His eyes snapped back at her. “This is possibly the best thing you’ve ever given me, Juva. Aside from that one time when you arranged for all those forest nymphs—”

Juva clasped her hands in relief. “I knew you wouldn’t be angry, Master!”

Tarikh reverently held up the key. “Honestly, I am overjoyed. With this, I will never have to beg that Djinn for help again.”

Shakka scraped her throat. “That’s all well and good, but what about the Djinn?”

“Hm? What about him?” Tarikh said.

“Aren’t you worried he’ll come after you?”

Tarikh laughed. “And do what? He can’t kill, and even his power has limits. No, that blasted Djinn won’t move a paw to get this key back. The only reason he held onto it was to jerk me around, anyway.”

“Huh?” Shakka canted her head, giving him a curious look.

“Good job, Juva,” Tarikh said and petted the Goblina’s head, making her freckled cheeks turn from green to red. “Now, as a reward, you’ll want to keep the ‘pup,’ I assume?”

Juva nodded. “Yes, Master, please. After all, she’s proven her use!”

Tarikh looked at Shakka. “And what is in it for you?”

“Food. Food and the knowledge about my ancestors.”

“Shakka wants to learn about her people,” Juva added quickly. “And I promised we would show her.”

“You mean to take her along—”

Juva nodded.

“Very well,” Tarikh sighed. “We’ll show the pup what a true Werewolf is supposed to look like.” Tarikh regarded the small, thin excuse for a monster. Sensing her little heart race brought a smirk to his lips. “And who knows? Perhaps inspiring her is the first step to bringing back the Gorgineh.”

Shakka canted her head. “T-the Gor—”

“Gorgineh. That’s what you were originally called back in the day. But that was a long, long time ago.”