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him.
    “The Goddess’s power is greatest during the new moon.” Katerina whirled around. She drew strength from the fire burning in the hearth behind her, calling the low, deep notes of her element and weaving them into a song in her mind. Her hands glowed. She advanced on Jeremy. He was growing stronger under her tutelage, but he was still nothing compared to her. “You will feed him every three days. If this Goddess-forsaken rain happens to stop, you will blast him with the hose. He will not die under your watch. You will keep the charms active. Do you understand me?”
    Jeremy looked down at his feet. “Yes, Katerina.”
    “Good, baby. I’m sorry I yelled. I couldn’t do this without you. Now come help me pack.”

    The rains pelted the wolf’s fur, soaking down to his skin. A constant assault of pebbles and leaves whipped around him with the wind, but he’d stopped caring. He panted weakly on the concrete pad that had become his home. His strength waned. It had been days since the evil woman had tossed a half-rotten steak to him. Great stabbing pains shot through his stomach. A rat ran onto the scorching earth yesterday and he’d pounced on it, gulping down the carcass in a single swallow. He didn’t pace his days away any longer. He spent most of his time curled up on the edge of the concrete. It was winter now, or close to it. The outside of his body was cold all the time, even as his blood boiled. Laying at the edge of the concrete kept his body warm. Or warmer, anyway. He dreamed of a bed, a proper meal, walking on two legs, and seeing his pack again. But no, his pack was dead and gone.
    The wolf couldn’t think any longer—not in words. Images floated through his mind. Images of men, women, children. He was a man. He knew he was a man. But he couldn’t escape his wolf. He hated himself. Hated his wolf. Death was all he had to look forward to.
    The door to the house opened and the wolf raised his head. Maybe the bad woman would come to feed him. He hated her, but he needed to eat. It wasn’t the woman. The man—no the boy—came with the wolf’s rotten dinner this time. The wolf growled at him. The boy sneered back.
    “She might want you alive, but I could give a fuck. Growl at me again and you won’t eat until she comes back.” The earth under the wolf’s paws trembled. The boy had earth power in him and he was getting stronger. The wolf lay down and tucked his head under his paws. He wouldn’t growl. The meat sailed over the fence and landed in the dirt. The boy walked away, back into the house.
    The wolf was so hungry. He darted onto the dirt for the steak and stopped. He cocked his head. The ground was no longer scorching. It was merely hot. He could stand on it. It intensified the burning pain inside of him, but it was bearable. The rat. It wouldn’t have reached the concrete otherwise, with the earth as hot as it had been for months. He sniffed at the dirt. The scent of the bad woman’s charm was weak.
    He tore into the meat, dragging it back to the concrete to devour it. It tasted horrible, but the protein helped him think. The woman was gone. She was the one who charmed the dirt. Perhaps now he could dig. He looked around. A pile of leaves had blown into one corner of the cage. With the charm active, they would have burnt to a crisp immediately. Not now. They would hide his progress. As soon as the sun went down, he padded over to the leafy corner, pawed the detritus aside, and began to dig.
    The wolf dug for two nights, nosing the leaves back over the hole to cover his slow progress every morning. Deeper and deeper he went. The earth elemental had hardened the dirt nearly to stone. The wolf’s paws bled. Several toenails tore right out or wore down to the quick. He was so tired. But he was close. He could fit his nose under the fence now. Another few inches and he could wriggle his entire body through and then he’d be free. No one came. The boy didn’t feed him again, the evil