When the wolf emerged, it lunged for the changeling.

I had no control over the animal, and was yet again a helpless observer.

It didn't matter, our desire was the same.

Locked in a wrestle, the changeling and wolf tumbled through the trees and toward the tavern. I had no worry over being seen, for the only thought in my mind was killing the creature beneath me.

The changeling fought viciously, clawing at my nose and eyes with sharp fingernails. It knew the precise tender spots to aim for, and when it found them I howled in pain. The wolf bit down on the body of the child, who screamed as it was swung through the air. 

It wasn't until a stone hit its head that the wolf released Moira. Stunned, I looked up to regard my assailant. Angela stood several feet away, her eyes wide with terror and tears streaming down her cheeks.

What a sight she must have beheld! What thoughts raced through her mind in those frightful seconds?

She called for Sampson and he was by her side in an instant with a blade in his hand. The changeling played its part well. Through cries of pain, Moira's little arms were raised to show the bloodied skin.

Stop! I cried from inside the wolf. They're going to kill us!

Fight.

No, don't hurt them! You must run! Now!

A reply came, not given with words, but emotion.

The wolf was conflicted. The drive to kill was strong but muddled by worry, and for the first time I sensed caution in the beast.

If I could just talk to them, I thought.

The wolf responded in the worst possible way.

A tickling ran through its fur.

What are you doing? Not like this—listen to me!

Talk.

I imagined beating the animal's head with my fists. I swore at it and demanded it to run as fast as it could, but the wolf withdrew into itself. Tufts of fur fell to the ground.

You've killed us, I whimpered.

The wolf did not answer.

You might be resigned to die, I snapped, but I'm not.

As hind legs stretched and straightened, I put all my strength into gathering myself from the ground and heading into the woods. I had only managed to pull my head up when searing pain bit into my body.

Sampson was prepared for another wolf encounter.

My leg, hovering between wolf and boy, was caught between iron teeth. Quick as he could, Sampson hammered a spike to keep the trap in the ground, while I laid in agony, fearing what the next few moments would bring.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Angela gather Moira in her arms. She raised the chain from the child's neck and turned to me.

"Demon!" she shrieked, but her mouth remained open, caught between anger and horror, as she watched the wolf contort into an unrecognizable form.

I felt my snout caving inwards. My claws retract.

The changeling wore a hideous smile.

Sampson joined Angela's side, and he examined his daughter before gasping.

"She's got burn marks on her neck!"

When the couple looked at me their hands flew to their mouths.

I'll never know what they thought as my bones broke and knit together. Sampson turned and bent over, unleashing a spray of bile from his mouth. Angela turned herself and Moira away and covered the child's eyes with her hand.

It was over in an instant.

There laid Josiah, their Josiah, in a growing puddle of blood.

"No," I heard Sampson moan. "It's not...it can't be—"

The second I found my voice, I used it.

"That's not Moira!" I pointed to the baby in Angela's arms. "It's a monster—a changeling!"

If I was to die in the next minute, I had to tell them the truth.

"Put the iron on her skin! Please!"

Angela's expression was wholly confused, as if she could not understand my words.

Sampson, whether out of desire to prove me wrong or desperation to know the truth, was quick to oblige. He grabbed the chain from the ground and went to his wife and child, but Angela moved from his path. 

"Don't hurt her!" she exclaimed.

Sampson would not be deterred. He grabbed his wife's arm and pulled hard, and when Moira was within reach he pressed the chain against her arm.

The child bit her lip. There was a sizzling sound as a tendril of smoke lifted from Moira's skin and into the air. Sampson pressed harder, until the changeling could bear it no longer and began to scream.

"It hurts us! It hurts us!"

Sampson tore the creature from Angela's arms and held it in the air.

"What have you done?" he screamed. "Where is my child?!"

Sampson wrapped the chain around its neck and pulled so tightly I thought it might sever the changeling's head.

Angela fell to the ground, taken by a faint.

The commotion had woken the tavern's lone guest, and when the man in the cloak joined the company outside the color drained from his face.

"What is this?" he cried as he moved to take Moira from Sampson's hold.

"This doesn't concern you!" Sampson yelled. "There are devils around me, come to destroy my family—and I'll kill them all!"

It was a heartbreaking scene, as Sampson fought the guest while trying to choke the life from the changeling.

But the guest said something that silenced everything:

"I'll give you fair gold for it!"

Sampson paused and turned with an incredulous stare.

"You'll what?"

"I'll pay you for the changeling." 

The guest pulled a leather pouch from his pocket and held it up so Sampson could see its weight.

"What would you want with such a beast?" Sampson spat. "And what about my revenge?"

"You'll have it, I assure you," the guest replied calmly, "for I intend to take it to the circus."

"What's that?"

The guest smiled, and in his eyes was a wicked mischief.

"A place that holds nothing good for the creature in your arms."

"What's going to happen to it?"

The changeling interrupted their conversation.

"Kill us! Kill us now! We took your child!"

It was the most damning thing the beast could have said. Sampson turned a shocked stare to the child, and I saw the crumbling of his heart painted on his face.

"Will there be pain?" he asked the guest while keeping his gaze on Moira. "Can you assure me that it will hurt before it dies?"

"Oh, most certainly there will be pain," came the ominous reply. "If you like, I might even be able to allow you the chance to watch."

Sampson shook his head and pointed at me. 

"What about that?" 

"Circus has no use for a violent boy," the guest answered with indifference.

"That's not a boy. That's worse than what I've got in my hands. Saw it change with my own eyes. If you were outside a moment before, you'd have seen the disgusting thing yourself. It was a wolf."

Now the guest's keen interest was on me.

"A wolf, you say?"

That discovery seemed of far greater value than a changeling.

"I took it under my roof," Sampson said. "Looked after it like it was my son. And it helped this wretch take my daughter—"

"That's not true!" I cried. "I was trying to save her!"

"You'll shut your mouth before I force it closed!" Sampson shouted back. He turned to the guest. "They were fighting when my wife—"

He looked at Angela, only then realizing she had fallen. Still holding the changeling in one hand, he went to her and knelt to the ground.

"She'll need gentle tending to," the guest said, "but I need an answer now. Said I'd pay nicely for the changeling, but for the wolf, I'll give you much more."

"Gold?"

"Aye."

"How much gold?"

Even after the chaos, I couldn't believe Sampson was considering the offer.

"Please," I begged him, "I tried to help you. I wanted—I still want—to save Moira."

"Moira's gone," came Sampson's cold reply.

"This is no concern of yours, monster," the guest snapped at me. "This is man's business, between me and the gentleman."

"How do you know about such beasts?" Sampson asked the man. "Are you one of them?"

"Just a simple traveler who's seen his fair share of exotic wonders. I sense you and I are of the same mind in believing monsters do not belong in our world."

It was at this moment that Angela's body chose to stir. She smiled at her husband, as if she believed she was waking from a terrible dream, and her fingers touched his cheek.

But when her gaze lowered to the child in Sampson's grasp, her mouth curled into a grimace and she began to weep.

"How much gold did you say?" Sampson asked the guest. 

"More than enough to see you through two winters," he replied as he joined two more pouches to the one in his hand. "Enough even to tear down this place and build it new."

"Sampson," Angela whimpered. Her husband held a finger to her lips.

"This cursed wood," he growled. "I'd rather burn the tavern and be done with it all. The monsters and magic and damned inhumanness of it all." A mournful smile tugged at his lips as he stared at his wife's face. "We deserve no more sorrow, don't we?" It was an earnest question. "We'll find a new home where we can be alone. And that will be our life, won't it?" Angela nodded. "That's right, just like we talked about."

Both their faces twisted into pain. Sampson helped his wife to her feet before turning to the guest.

"We'll take your gold."

"Excellent choice. You and your lovely wife will be content for a long time."

"No, we won't," Sampson replied. "But we'll be alive."

The coin pouches were handed into the couple's care. The chain was placed once more around the changeling's neck, and the end was given to its new owner.

The three grown ups turned to me.

"Don't know how you intend to travel with Jos—the beast," Sampson said. "It'll probably bleed out within the hour, anyway."

"Leave that concern to me," the guest answered.

"Sampson, please..." I tried one last time to appeal to his mercy.

The man who had once considered himself my father didn't utter a single word in reply. He took his wife's hand and led her back into the tavern. Angela spared a final glance over her shoulder, and I could see tears in her eyes.

I knew there would be no argument over my fate. My name would never pass their lips again, though I was certain they would think of it every day until their last—

"Did you ever find Moira? Or learn what happened to her?" Credence asked.

Josiah shook his head.

A lesson I've learned many times, and at great cost, is that life does not always have a happy ending. Sometimes we're left to wonder, and if that is crueler than knowing I can't say. I've thought about Moira many times over the years, and all I can do is hope that wherever she is, she's safe and plump and happy—

"What about Sampson and Angela?"

In one morning they'd lost two children, and that made a total of three. They held onto each other tightly in that moment, but I wasn't certain they'd be able to continue doing so for the rest of their lives. 

That kind of loss, Credence...I don't know if it can be endured for long.

As distraught as I was over losing another family, my problems were just beginning.

The man who'd purchased me clapped his hands together.

"Now then, to the circus."