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rabbit fur. It marked that Lukas had made the change and was a full member of the hound clan.
    Though Lukas understood now that his human sense of smell would never match Hamlin’s, he could still tell something was wrong.
    Felix smelled nervous. And where was Tilgard? Why wasn’t he here, bearing the cloak?
    â€œWelcome back, Lukas,” Felix said, standing, unfurling the cloak for Lukas to step into.
    Lukas slipped on the unfamiliar robe, scenting that many had worn it before him.
    Felix asked the traditional words of greeting: “Did you have a successful hunt?”
    How should Lukas answer? Hamlin hadn’t hunted anything, or chased rabbits or squirrels. Instead, he’d checked the perimeter. Lukas now knew every wall, every gate, every weakness and strength in their defenses.
    Hounds didn’t all hunt first thing—it was acceptable to just run. But that didn’t feel right. Finding all the walls around the woods, even the hidden ones, was kind of a hunt, wasn’t it?
    So Lukas said, “Yes, we did.” It wasn’t exactly what they’d done, but none of the traditional responses fit.
    â€œWe should go inside now,” Felix said.
    â€œYes!” Lukas said eagerly. “I must go present myself to the court.”
    Felix shook his head as they started walking back toward the castle. “Tomorrow.”
    â€œIt’s custom—”
    â€œYes. But you are a prince.”
    Lukas didn’t think that was right; however, surely his tutor knew best. “What breed am I?” he asked. He was sure he was some type of sight hound—Da was a sight hound. All the important ministers at the court were sight hounds. Chances were he was a sight hound, too.
    However, that didn’t feel right. It was part of Hamlin, but not all.
    â€œWe want to verify that,” Felix said smoothly. “Don’t want to get something as important as that wrong,” he added with a wink. “There’s why I’m here, and not Tilgard.”
    Lukas nodded solemnly, reassured, despite how worried Felix smelled. Even if Lukas wasn’t pure sight hound, he was still a prince. He’d prove it later, in a couple of years, by changing into different types of hounds. He knew he could, and Hamlin assured him that they would.
    The cold stone of the entrance way shot though Lukas’ bare feet, and he pulled the robe tighter around him. When the first servant saw him and bowed, Lukas grinned and forgot how he was naked under the cloak, how it tickled his bare skin, how easy it would be to get lost in all the new smells.
    Instead, Lukas stood taller, proud to be a full member of the hound clan.
    This was surely the happiest day of his life.
    # # #
    Oma waited for Lukas in his room, of course, when he came back from his first transformation. She dismissed Felix abruptly, shutting the door in his face.
    Though the room felt smaller suddenly, Lukas stood as still as a point dog while Oma circled him. He wished he had more clothes on than just the red robe.
    â€œThose fools don’t know what breed you are,” she hissed at him. “Only I do.”
    Her laughter sent chills down Lukas’ spine.
    Hamlin drew near, wary and on guard.
    Lukas turned to face his grandmother, feeling brave, daring to ask, “What breed am I, then?”
    â€œYou’re a guardian hound,” Oma told him. “You’re as fast as a sight hound, with eyes as good as theirs, despite their blue color. Your coat is brindle, almost tiger-striped, gray and brown. Your nose picks up trails like a scent hound. But your rear quarters and canines confuse them—they’re pure guardian—making you stronger than you seem.”
    â€œA guardian hound,” Lukas said, delighted.
    Guard , Hamlin agreed. And fight.
    Lukas was surprised at how close Hamlin stayed. Most hound souls only came at the bidding of their human soul. They only rose on their own when the human had