“Have you heard of a case like our daughter’s before?” Mom blurted out.
“Throwbacks, yes,” Mataji said. “Shifters who can’t control the shift, not exactly. I did some research before you came and I found one account of a boy who turned into a wolf, ran into the woods, and never came back. But it wasn’t clear to me whether he stayed a wolf permanently, or whether he’d just run away from home.”
“Do you have any ideas of how you could help her?” Mom asked.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I need to ask you some questions first.”
I could tell this was going to be one more horrible, frustrating disappointment. I tried to change the subject. “Can I try your swing?”
“Not yet. My grandfather made it, and I don’t want to risk it getting clawed. You can swing all you please when you can be sure you won’t damage it.”
I knew where she was going with that, and so did my parents. Mom told her I desperately wanted to control my shift, but I just couldn’t.
“I understand that,” Mataji said. To me, she said, “I’m not trying to bribe you. I’m giving you some things to look forward to, so it’ll keep your spirits up for a long, difficult process. Also, I imagine you have a lot of regrets by now. Don’t you? Birthday parties you couldn’t go to… Friends you couldn’t make… Favorite clothes and toys you destroyed.”
It was so true. I thought of everything in my life that had been ruined by me not being able to control myself, and I started crying.
Mataji went on, “So I don’t want to add to your regrets. Not even by a few broken bangles.” Then she gave me a sharp look. “Why didn’t you shift just now? If you’re upset enough to cry…?”
“I only just turned back into a girl,” I said.
“So you don’t do it too soon after the last time?”
I sniffled and nodded.
“How much time would have to pass before you can
shift again?”
“I guess about half an hour.”
“Hmm.” Mataji rocked a little faster. “What’s your tiger feel like right now? Why isn’t she taking over?”
Why aren’t you? I asked.
My tiger yawned. Too tired.
“She says she’s too tired.”
Mataji smiled. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Who was the last known shifter among your ancestors, and how many generations lie between them and her?”
At that point, my dad couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m sorry, Mataji. I don’t mean to be rude, but we never really got introduced, except by name. Are you a… a pack leader? A witch—”
Mom jabbed him in the ribs.
“A wisewoman?” Dad corrected himself.
Mataji stopped rocking and raised her eyebrows at Dad. They were very impressive eyebrows. “First, ‘Mataji’ isn’t a name. It’s a polite way to address an older woman. Like ‘Grandmother.’ Second, I’m not a pack leader. I’m a mongoose shifter. We have families, not packs. Wisewoman? Well, I try to never stop learning, which is certainly a way to become wise. As for why Priya called you here, many herbs grow in this area, and I’ve studied their uses. It’s possible that one of them or a mixture of several could help.”
That got Mom excited. Remember how she didn’t want to go to a hospital to have me? She’s big on alternative medicine. She exclaimed, “I knew it! This is what we’ve needed all along. Ancient shifter wisdom, passed on through the generations…”
Mataji smiled. “In a sense. I’m a pharmacist. Plenty of drugs originally come from plants. Aspirin is from the bark of the willow tree. Digitalis, which you take for heart conditions, is from foxgloves. And I’m on an email list for shifters with an interest in shifter-specific medical issues, like dragonsbane poisoning. Let me ask you some more questions. Has Destiny ever bitten anyone in the family?”
“Sure,” Dad said.
“Broken the skin? Made them bleed?”
“Not on purpose!” I said.