Mo's Super Supreme without Pork was more cold than lukewarm when Vidar took it out of his backpack and placed it on the green bench. The box was sticky; his fingers too now. The scent of grease was strong, but luckily, the stains hadn't leaked through the leather. A good scrub and it would be as good as new.

Vidar sat down, fished his handkerchief out of the depths of his pocket, and wiped his hands clean. Sunna's last rays coloured the park in a red hue. One by one, the handful of humans present by the pond grabbed their bags or simply rose to their feet and retreated to the warmer bars outside the park. Clearly, they had learnt that the polder's only resident hated alcohol. Would they know what he was? Or did they simply treat Lange Wapper like the harmless halfwit he was?

Lange Wapper wasn't sitting in the hut on the jetty, like last time. But before initiating a search party, Vidar decided to wait for Mo. It was five past nine, and he was fashionably late, as per the Ifrit's grammatically incorrect motto, 'The party don't start 'til I walk in.'

Vidar's stomach grumbled, more craving the meat than being hungry. Bored from waiting, he took a slice and then another one. And a third one, telling himself it was a sin to let the pizza grow cold.

A light coming from a nearby lantern flicked on as the sky turned purple. The park was deserted.

Suddenly, a crack echoed through the clearing. Out of the trees appeared a shadow, at first no bigger than Vidar's shoe but gradually expanding yet growing thinner.

Lange Wapper staggered stiffly. Occasionally, he stood still to shake, like a dog fresh out of the water. His faltering walk disappeared as he noticed Vidar. His long legs almost ran faster than his body.

He wrapped his arms around Vidar. "Sir Wolf, you came back."

"Brought candy and games," Vidar said. Awkwardly, he slipped out of the shapeshifter's embrace. "I invited a friend too."

"Where is he now?"

"At the hospital."

"Oh, is he hurt?" Lange Wapper asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"No, he works there."

He puffed his cheeks, frowning. "What's work?"

"Something you do to earn money. Like, the humans that come to the park to empty the trashcans."

Lange Wapper didn't react. Instead, he reached for Vidar's phone lying on the bench. "You have a Rainbow Music Maker."

Vidar snatched his phone away before the shapeshifter managed to put his bony fingers around it. "It's a boring plastic brick," he lied. "No funny sounds or colours."

Instantly, the shapeshifter shrunk. His voice shifted to a shrill tone. "But you said you had games."

"A deck of cards." Vidar pulled the zipper at the side of his backpack and rummaged through the compartment. He flung two bags of gummy bears onto the bench, one sweet, the other sour. He would keep the Kit Kats for when Mo was there; the Ifrit didn't eat jellied candy. "What's your favourite—poker, bridge, blackjack?"

"War," said the rising figure.

Of course. There wasn't a simpler game.

As the lanky giant joined him on the bench, Vidar shook the cards out of their box, cut the deck, then shuffled them. Face-down, they each selected a card until both had five in their hands.

In the first round, Vidar won the first battle by playing a Jack of Hearts against Lange Wapper's Nine of Clubs. Then, the shapeshifter played a King of Diamond. A lucky move, since Vidar had decided to get rid of the Ace of Spades early in the game.

"I win," Vidar said.

"No, a King is better than a one."

"It's different with an Ace. It trumps a King, Queen, and Jack, but not the other number cards."

Lange Wapper scowled. "That's not how I play it."

"But it's how it is."

"No, it isn't."

Vidar slid the pair towards the lanky shapeshifter. He didn't come here to win.

While the shapeshifter contemplated which card to play next, Vidar darted a look at his phone. Quarter past nine. Mo would be here any moment now.

Vidar won a few rounds, then lost five in a row, his mind not in the game. Half-past nine. He didn't argue with Lange Wapper's logic that a Queen of Hearts should be worth more than a King because she might have a baby in her belly, which was one person more. 

A few rounds later, Vidar drew a Queen of Spades and played her right away. The lanky giant had a King of Hearts, which beat the Queen. Because he had a heart, and she looked evil, so she couldn't have a baby. Only kind mothers get babies—apparently.

Vidar ripped the bag of sour bears open. He tossed a few into his mouth, resisting the urge to devour Mo's pizza. Sticking to number cards, he quickly lost the war.

Quarter to ten turned to ten to ten. The minutes slowly crept towards the hour. 

Still no Mo. 

Who died that he couldn't get off work?

"Here, you shuffle the deck," Vidar said to Lange Wapper.

He texted Mo. Your pizza is cold. Are you nearly there?

Lange Wapper played a Nine of Diamonds, which Vidar defeated with a Ten of Clubs. Two Sevens, one of Hearts and the other Spades, received help from a Queen of Clubs and Vidar's Ace of Hearts.

"Hehehe, you played an Ace," Lange Wapper bleated as he grabbed the four cards.

Vidar slammed the palm of his hand to his face. Stupid Rule.

A message popped up on Vidar's phone. Nearly where? Cold pizza = late snack or breakfast xD

What?

Vidar pressed the phone icon, gesticulating to Lange Wapper that he needed a moment. He pushed the bag of sour gummy bears towards the shapeshifter, which worked like a charm. Lange Wapper dropped the cards and gobbled up the candy as though it was popcorn.

"Ewa, Wolfie!" shouted a very enthusiastic Mo over the phone. Laughter resounded in the background. Someone seemed to be tapping a high-pitched drum.

"You're not at work."

"No, I'm chilling with Eshu. There's a djinn visiting—he cooks the best tajine you've tasted in your life. I swear on the Atlas Mountains. It's almost better than pizza. Later we're gonna..." Before he could get a word in between, there was a muffled stumbling at Mo's end. He whispered, "No, it's cool. It's my friend—he's one of us. Yeah, the Norse God who's a werewolf."

"Mo, are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm back. So, Wolfie, about your text. We didn't agree to meet up, did we?"

"We did." Vidar touched the base of his neck, scratching that damn itch that seemed to grow worse. "Mo, you and I spoke about two hours ago. You called from work—"

"Wolfie, I had a day off."

"But you did call me, did you?"

"I didn't."

A wave of panic flooded his mind. He swallowed, composing himself in front of Lange Wapper, who had stopped eating candy and was staring at him, his head cocked. "We talked," Vidar insisted. "You said we should close the case because the police had as well. I argued back, and then you agreed to visit Lange Wapper. I have pizza and everything—"

"Oh, pizza. What kind?"

"Your usual. Extra-large—I was hungry too." He didn't mention he had finished a large Meat Lover's Delight before getting on a bike.

"Wolfie, had I know you had Super Supreme without Pork, me and my fat ass would have been there."

"But you called me. I didn't imagine it." Vidar's breath hitched. "Please, can you come?"

"Yeah, I'll fix a ride. Hoboken's polder, right?"

Vidar hummed.

"It's going to be alright, Wolfie," Mo said. "We'll figure out who's messing with you, and they'll rue the day they crossed an Ifrit."

"Thanks," Vidar mumbled.

"I need to arrange some stuff, but hey... don't worry. I'll be there in thirty, max."

But he did worry, for Reynaert and for himself. He returned to the game, pretending nothing had happened, but he played cards without thinking, not caring whether the shapeshifter claimed them or pushed them towards him. Whenever the light of his phone dimmed, he touched the screen; the minute-digit seemingly stood still.

He played a lousy Two of Spades, which lost from a Six of Clubs. There had been nobody in the room with him when Mo had called; it couldn't have been a trick. Maybe he was simply overworked. Kira's TikTok movies had doubled, sometimes even tripled the number of customers. And then there had been his research, scouring each newspaper for a trace of Reynaert.

A Nine of Hearts beat Lange Wapper's Eight of Spades. Who was he kidding—he had binged over a season of Vikings, to use Kira's words.

He grabbed a handful of sour bears, glancing over the cards then taking just any. When they each turned their card, Vidar's Jack of Clubs won from a Five of Hearts.

"Why do they call it a Jack—it doesn't look like a Jack?" Lange Wapper wondered.

The question was background noise. The caller ID had been Mo's. Mo had been there with him in Saeftinghe. An instinctive growl formed in the back of his throat, one he couldn't suppress. No, Mo would never. If he had wanted to doublecross Vidar at some point, the years had provided plenty of opportunity for that. The only people Vidar had ever trusted more than the Ifrit had been his brothers. Other than Loki, whom only a fool would trust.

He retraced the conversation as he took another card from the deck and placed it on the bench without looking. Had the Mo he had talked to really been Mo? The voice had sounded like the Ifrit, but had neither been excited about pizza nor called him Wolfie.

"Do you know, sir Wolf?" Lange Wapper called for him. They turned the cards—a Four of Spades against the supposed pregnant Queen of Hearts, the clear winner.

A trickster, a shapeshifter had chosen him as their victim. Vidar eyed Lange Wapper suspiciously. He should have worn his boots.

"Sir Wolf?" Lange Wapper blinked. In the lantern's lights, his eyes were like marbles.

"Where were you on the night of the last full moon?" Vidar asked.

Blowing his ratty hair out of his face, the shapeshifter gawked at the face-down card he was holding. "We're not playing that game—you have to pick a card."

Vidar folded his cards. "New game."

"Then you still have to answer my question," Lange Wapper said like a petulant child.

His question. "I don't know," Vidar blurted, not remembering what Lange Wapper had asked.

"Ok, then it's your turn. I don't have other questions."

Touching his phone's screen, Vidar repeated. "The night of the last full moon—where were you?"

Lange Wapper's lips moved like a fish. "That's a long time ago, but I guess I was here, waiting for Reynaert."

"What did you do when he didn't show up?"

"By then, it was morning, and I returned to the Schelde. I was happy to see the fishes, but I'm always happy to see them." 

"So you didn't go anywhere all night?"

"Oh, but I did, sir Wolf," he said. Vidar leant forward, hopeful, but then he pointed at the trees. "I went there." His finger moved to the small brook that crossed the park. "And then there. Maybe some other places around here."

"And in the days after the full moon?"

"The same."

"And earlier today—where were you?"

"Swimming with the fishes." He beamed. "I'm winning, right? Many questions I can answer."

"You're doing great." Vidar faked a smile. He glanced at his cards. A lean shadow blocked the light. He caught the shapeshifter peeking. "You rascal."

Lange Wapper giggled like a child. "You only have loser cards."

"Then you win." Vidar raised his hands. 

Who was he kidding? He had ruled out this overgrown toddler weeks ago. It must be someone else. But who? What didn't he see?

Just as the screen seemed to dim again, a message from Mo popped up. Call me.

"Ewa, Wolfie," Mo said. Though he sounded forlorn, tyres screeched audibly through the phone. Three signs he was talking to the real Ifrit. "Good news is I'm almost there, but... err... bad news, you were right about Reynaert. Some humans found his remains near the cathedral, where Patrasche used to be."

Vidar cleared his throat but the lump remained. Instead of embracing his pet dog and best friend, the boy Nello was now embracing a dead fox. The statue of Flanders' most famous dog gone.

"Vandalised art and a body," Vidar mused.

"Same modus operandi," After sighing, Mo cracked a joke. "Yeah, I speak Latin now, Wolfie."

Vidar grinned lightly. He took the chocolate bars out of his backpack, pressing his phone between his shoulder and cheek. "Change of plan. We're heading there—I'll wait for you at the south-western gate. Nobody messes with dogs."

"Spoken like a true wolf. I'll be there in ten."

Vidar slipped his phone into his knee pocket.

In the corner of his eye, Lange Wapper shrunk. "You're leaving me, aren't you?"

"Afraid so. Things are happening in the city," Vidar said.

"Evil city things." The shapeshifter shrunk further. "You are a hero, sir Wolf. I could never return to Antwerp, not after they chased me out. A hole of drunken liars and brutes."

Vidar handed him a Kitkat and placed the Mars and the Twix on the bench. "All yours. You can keep the cards too. I'll visit you again soon, and then I'll really bring my friend."

"Can you get me Rainbow Music Maker next time?" he asked.

"I'll try."

The shapeshifter leapt up, growing back his original size. He stretched his arms and gave Vidar a tight goodbye hug.

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