Katja gaped at the creature, too stunned to move. The wolf stared back, then slowly, its tail began to wag, and it stepped forward, running a very wet, very real tongue up one side of her face.

Katja went rigid, terrified it was trying to distract her while its eyes turned to flames and hypnotized her, preventing her escape, but the wolf merely sat down on its haunches.

"I'm probably not what you were expecting," it admitted, "but on the bright side, you were trying to conjure an enchanted pet!"

Katja couldn't breathe; it was as if her heart had jumped into her throat and lodged itself there. Shaking so hard her teeth chattered, she finally managed to say, "You're...you're the groBe böse Wolf! The Witch Killer of the Schwarzwald!"

The wolf cringed, folding in on itself as if she'd yelled at it. "How do you know those names?" it asked.

"You're a legend among my kind," Katja said, keeping her wide eyes fixed on the creature. "You killed witches in the Black Forest in service of the Waldkonig."

The wolf's triangular ears flattened against its head, and its eyes narrowed.

"I never worked for the Waldkonig!" it growled, making Katja tremble so hard, she almost dropped the necklace she'd forgotten she was holding.

Glancing down at the jewelry, mind reeling, all she could think was that the pendant had come to life. And what's more, it could talk. How was this possible? She hadn't even started the process of creating her enchanted pet; she'd only removed the spells on the necklace.

And then something occurred to her.

"Were you trapped inside the necklace?" she asked, voicing the only logical explanation she could think of. "Is that why you disappeared?"

"Yes," nodded the wolf. "And thank goodness you were so determined to break those spells; otherwise, I might never have been freed."

Katja made a noise that was part whimper, part groan. This was terrible! Not only was she an outcast among the Hexen, she'd just freed one of their most ferocious enemies, letting a blood-thirsty creature loose inside what was supposed to be their sanctuary.

"I have to put you back," she said, panic tightening her voice. "You have to go back inside the necklace. You can't be here!"

"Well, I am here," replied the wolf, "but you needn't worry—I have no intention of harming anyone." Straightening its spine, it gazed pointedly down its tapered snout. "Although on that topic, I'm curious to know how you've even heard of me."

"I read about you," Katja replied, and when the wolf simply stared at her, she pointed towards her nightstand. "In that book, there's a story about you. I've been reading it for years."

The wolf's silver eyebrows bunched towards one another in obvious confusion, so Katja stood up—slowly, so as not to startle the creature—grabbed the book, then sat back down and turned to the familiar page. Taking a deep breath, she read the story of the groBe böse Wolf aloud, then placed the book on the floor beside her.

"That's you, isn't it?" she asked, trying to sound more curious than accusing.

The creature was silent for a moment, then softly asked, "What year is it?"

When she replied, the wolf closed its eyes and let out a long sigh.

"Well, it's no more than I deserve, I suppose," it finally murmured, before turning a sorrowful gaze to her. "It seems I was in the necklace for roughly two hundred and twenty years."

Katja gaped at the creature. "How did you end up trapped in a necklace?"

"A witch put me there," the Wolf replied as its bright eyes slid from her to the book. "I can't believe someone wrote about me...and in a real book, no less." Its ears perked upwards, and the animal appeared almost happy. "Is it considered a good story?"

Katja's mouth fell open in dismay, given the contents of the tale, and the wolf quickly ducked its head between its shoulders in a gesture of apology.

"I mean," it corrected, "is it considered a well-written story? Something respectable?"

"I...don't know," Katja shook her head. "Most of my kind believe you were just a myth invented to keep witchlings from sneaking off into the Schwarzwald."

"Hmmp," frowned the Wolf, thumping its tail in a disgruntled manner against the rug. "I'm as real as you are, thank you very much. By the way, since it's probably difficult to tell, I identify as a male, just so you know, and you can keep calling me Wolf. I've actually come to like it."

"How did you know I'd been calling you Wolf?" Katja asked, before thinking back to something else the creature had said. "And how did you know I was trying to create an enchanted pet?"

"I heard you," replied Wolf.

Katja blinked at him. "You heard me?" Heat rose to her cheeks as she thought back to everything she'd shared with the necklace. "How?"

"I'm not entirely sure," replied Wolf, lowering his front half to the ground and crossing one paw over another, making him appear quite contemplative. "Yours was the first voice I heard since the day I was imprisoned."

"But other people handled the necklace before me," Katja pointed out. "It was found in the Schwarzwald by a forester, and he brought it here, to Tante Hedda's shop. You didn't hear anything they said?"

"No," said Wolf. "There was nothing but silence until I heard you say, 'What are you?' After that, I could hear other things besides you, but you've always been the clearest."

Katja thought back to the first time she'd seen the necklace in her workroom.

"I have an affinity for working with metal," she explained, even though Wolf likely already knew that from their many one-sided conversations. "Perhaps that's why you heard me first...the metal let you. And then once the connection was open, you could hear other things."

Looking down at the wolf pendant, she pressed her thumb against the meteorite, expecting to hear music now that the spells were broken. To her surprise, the metal remained completely silent. While that was both interesting and disconcerting, she couldn't do anything about it now and filed it away for further exploration at another time.

"Could you see anything while you were in the necklace?" she asked, turning back to Wolf, who tilted his head to one side.

"Sort of," he said, and Katja felt the blood rush from her face, thinking of how often she'd worn the necklace while bathing or changing clothes. "I always gave you your privacy, though," Wolf quickly assured her, "whenever it seemed like you were in an, um, delicate situation."

Katja nodded mutely, feeling only marginally better.

"Most of what I could see after you woke me was blurry images, more like pictures viewed from very far away that occasionally seemed to move. But until you connected with the metal and woke me, I wasn't aware of anything in the outside world the entire time I was trapped in the necklace," Wolf explained.

To her surprise, Katja found herself feeling unexpectedly empathetic toward the wolf.

While it hadn't been two hundred years, she could easily relate to going long stretches of time without talking to another person or feeling the warmth of a hug or the pride of a thoughtful compliment or even receiving a smile when passing someone in the hallways. Based on what she knew, it seemed as if the wolf had deserved to be trapped in the necklace, but at the same time, she felt sorry for any creature forced to be alone.

She wasn't entirely certain how to put this into words, however, so instead she said, "You must have thought I was ridiculous, talking to a necklace so much."

"On the contrary," replied Wolf. "I was so happy to hear you. I nearly panicked the first time you didn't say anything for a few hours, but then I realized you were probably sleeping."

He crooked his mouth in such a way that it resembled a more human grin than Katja had ever seen on a dog before. "I was always relieved to hear you speak again and bid me good morning or tell me about your plans for the day."

"Oh, well, that's...good...I suppose," stumbled Katja, embarrassed at being the object of such appreciation, especially given what she had to do. "It's just...if I'd known you were in the necklace, I never would have tried to break the spells. I made a mistake letting you out. And since I don't know how to put you back, there's only one other thing I can think of."

It felt like choosing the lesser of two evils, but if she couldn't contain the wolf again, at least she could ensure he didn't wreak havoc in the castle. "Witches aren't allowed in the Schwarzwald, but I can take you to the bridge over the Neckar River, and I'm sure you can find your way home from there."

Wolf shook his head. "I don't have a home anymore. Everyone I knew and loved is dead."

That made Katja pause, as she hadn't expected to hear a cold-hearted killer speak of his loved ones. The raw grief in the wolf's voice was unmistakable, and she swallowed uncertainly.

"Besides," Wolf continued, "even if I wished to return to the forest, I can't. I'm bound to the necklace."

"What do you mean?" asked Katja, the nervousness already trickling down her spine suddenly increasing, as if someone had turned the handle on a faucet, increasing the flow.

"I can't go too far from the necklace," Wolf explained, gesturing with his snout towards where it rested in Katja's hand. "If I try to go past a certain point, I'll suddenly find myself right back where I started, next to that piece of jewelry."

"What if you took the necklace with you?" suggested Katja. "I would give it to you."

The thought of losing the necklace made her feel as if someone was threatening to smash her heart with a hammer, but she reminded herself she could always make another. What mattered now was protecting the coven.

"Thank you," replied Wolf, "but I don't wish to go back. There's nothing in the Black Forest for me anymore. In fact, I'm not certain there's anything for me anywhere."

His head drooped towards the ground and he appeared so sad, Katja had to fight her natural impulse to wrap her arms around him and assure him everything would be fine.

Instead, she wrapped her arms around herself and wracked her mind for another solution, which, unfortunately, didn't present itself. She desperately wished she could discuss the situation with someone who might have a better idea of what to do, but at the same time, she could never tell anyone what she'd done, lest she be banished from the castle for putting everyone in grave danger.

Her head began to hurt, and she grimaced as she massaged her forehead.

She'd expected the wolf to be overjoyed at the idea of returning to the Schwarzwald; if he didn't wish to return to the forest, she didn't see how she could make him. But that meant keeping him in the castle, which seemed like a terrible idea for numerous reasons, not the least of which was the policy against having animals as pets.

"If you're worried about letting me stay because of my past," offered the Wolf, "I promise I have no intention of hurting anyone. I've made many mistakes, and I've paid dearly for them—although I can understand how that might not necessarily make you feel better—but please believe me when I say I'm not who I used to be."

"I want to believe that," replied Katja, and she genuinely did, "but I could never forgive myself if another witch was harmed because of something I did."

"Even if I wanted to hurt someone—which I don't—you hold my very life in your hand," Wolf noted. "You could cast a spell, melt down the necklace, and kill me in an instant. If you don't believe I'll behave by choice, isn't it reasonable to think I'd be more than willing to control myself in exchange for you not destroying the necklace?"

Katja considered that. She'd never gotten someone to do something by threatening them, and she had no desire to start now; she'd much rather believe Wolf could be trusted. But given what she'd read of him, was that too naïve?

Then again, he could have attacked her the second she'd freed him from the necklace, and he hadn't. He'd put himself in a vulnerable position by taking the time to speak with her, and as someone who avoided being vulnerable with others as much as possible, a part of her insisted that had to count for something.

Katja drew a deep breath, desperately hoping she wasn't making a mistake.

"If I'm going to trust you, I need more information," she said. "I want to know what parts of the story about you are true and what parts were made-up or added over the years."

"That's fair," agreed Wolf. He appeared to be deep in thought for a moment, then said, "I should probably start by telling you something you'd never guess just by looking at me."

Whatever it was, it certainly couldn't be more unexpected than anything else she'd witnessed that evening, so Katja nodded for Wolf to keep talking.

"I'm not just a wolf," he said.

Katja blinked in confusion, but before she could speak, the wolf shimmered, like still water struck by sunlight, and then transformed...into a boy not much older than herself.

"You see," said the boy, "I'm also human. Or at least, I used to be."

(Artwork by AllauddinYousafzai from Pixabay)