This time Hannah didn't move fast enough. A terrible weight smashed into her and she was falling, flying. She landed hard, her head smacking into the floorboards.
It hurt.
Even as she felt it, everything grayed out. Her vision went sparkling, her mind soared away from the pain, and a strange thought flickered through her head.
I'm dead now. It's over again. Oh, Isis, Goddess of Life, guide me to the other world. . . .
"Hannah! Hannah! What's going on in there?" Paul's frantic voice came to her dimly.
Hannah's vision cleared and the bizarre thoughts vanished. She wasn't soaring in sparkling emptiness and she wasn't dead. She was lying on the floor with a book's sharp corner in the small of her back and a wolf on her chest.
Even in the midst of her terror, she felt a strange appalled fascination. She had never seen a wild animal this close. She could see the white-tipped guard hairs standing erect on its face and neck; she could see saliva glistening on its lolling red tongue. She could smell its breath-humid and hot, vaguely dog-like but much wilder.
And she couldn't move, she realized. The wolf was as long as she was tall, and it weighed more than she did. Pinned underneath it, she was utterly helpless. All she could do was lie there shivering as the narrow, almost delicate muzzle got closer and closer to her face.
Her eyes closed involuntarily as she felt the cold wetness of its nose on her cheek. It wasn't an affectionate gesture. The wolf was nudging at strands of her hair that had fallen across her face. Using its muzzle like a hand to push the hair away.
Oh, God, please make it stop, Hannah thought. But she was the only one who could stop this-and she didn't know how.
Now the cold nose was moving across her cheekbone. Its sniffing was loud in her ear. The wolf seemed to be smelling her, tasting her, and looking at her all at once.
No. Not looking at me. Looking at my birthmark.
It was another one of those ridiculous, impossible thoughts-and it snapped into place like the last piece in a puzzle deep inside her. Irrational as it was, Hannah felt absolutely certain it was true. And it set off the cool wind voice in her mind again.
Reach out, the voice whispered, quiet and businesslike. Feel around you. The weapon has to be there somewhere. You saw it on the bookcase. Find it.
The wolf stopped its explorations, seeming satisfied. It lifted its head . . . and laughed.