Between Shifts

by W. R. Gingell

  “I let you in,” he said. “This…is always this.”

  It probably wasn’t wise to ask too many questions, but I couldn’t help asking, “Did someone put you up there, or did you grow?”

  “Neither,” he said. “This is but one facet of me. There are others—we exist through the layers and emerge on any surface we wish.”

  He said ‘surface’ but I was pretty sure that when he said it, he meant something deeper than what I would mean if I said it. Like maybe he was talking about the surface of reality instead of the surface of the building.

  That brought a chill to the back of my neck, but it also made me bold enough to ask another question. “Do you know what I should do with the dryad?”

  “If you wish,” the Green Man said, “you may leave it in the crack beneath me.”

  I looked down, and near my knee were a couple of damaged bricks that had left a deep cleft in the wall. It was damp and cool and probably just big enough to slot the dryad in; but I didn’t think it would be able to grow much.

  A tendril of something thin and alive wrapped around my finger. This time it wasn’t the Green Man’s moss; it was the dryad’s roots, straying from their rock.

  “Don’t mean to be rude,” I said, hoping the Green Man wouldn’t push me off the branch, “but I don’t think it wants to do that.”

  “It doesn’t,” said the Green Man. “Dryads are meant for protection and wisdom. Here, I am all the wisdom and protection needed.”

  “Do you mean it can’t be happy if it’s not doing what it’s meant to do?”

  “Nothing in life is content to do that for which it was not formed. Nor content not doing that for which it was formed.”

  I thought about that for a bit, and asked, “Yeah, all right, but why did you tell me I could leave it, then?”

  “You are not a dryad.”

  “Yeah, but I’m looking after it for now. I can’t just leave it somewhere if it’s not going to be happy.”

  “You can do so,” the Green Man said pleasantly.

  I nearly said All right, mum, at him, but managed to change it to, “All right then; I won’t do it.”

  “So I see. What will you do?”

  “Don’t know,” I said, and sighed silently. “What should I do? Where’s a good place for me to plant it?”

  “A cleft in the wall,” said the Green Man.

  For a minute, I thought he was prompting me once again to leave the dryad with him. I frowned, ready to reiterate that I wasn’t going to do that, when something clicked in place in my brain.

  “It’s supposed to fill a gap where things could fall apart, isn’t it? Like when someone’s in a dangerous place or needs help? Ath—my friend said it’s protection and wisdom, too.”

  The Green Man didn’t smile, but there was a sudden fragrant breath of breeze that tickled across my face as well as his, stirring moss.

  “You listen well,” he said.

  “Been told that,” I said, grinning. Mostly it wasn’t a compliment, though. “So if I know of someone who’s in a dangerous place, the dryad will try to protect him and make a stop-gap?”

  “It is its nature. You don’t mean to keep it?”

  “Nah,” I said. There was a heck of a cleft in the wall of my life, but there was also a pretty big protector standing there; and so long as I was a good pet, it would stay like that. Anyway, there were at least two people I could think of that needed it more. “So, what? I have to find an actual hole in a wall to plant it, or are we talking a metaphysical wall?”

  “Nearby is enough,” the Green Man said. “All living things need one safe space to call their own. The dryad will do best at that place.”

  “Okay,” I said. I had a bit of an idea tickling around in my brain, and this time it didn’t involve the bearded bloke. I wondered if I should say thank you and leave, or if I was supposed to wait until he dismissed me.

  To my relief, he said, “If you are looking for your friend who came before you, he is directly below us. He went down by a different set of stairs.”

  I beamed at him. “Thank you! Reckon you can help me get down there quietly? And maybe without using the stairs?”

  The Green Man didn’t reply, but a slithering of vines crept around me, inadvertently pulling up the hood of my hoodie and tickling one ankle. They closed gently around me and as gently lowered me toward the earth beneath. As I got closer the mossy earth tessellated and I began to see that it was pavement again instead of dirt.

  I hastily tucked the dryad back into my pocket where it wouldn’t be seen, and straightened my hood. I was just in time; it was hard to tell exactly when I left the Between area for the human world, but someone saw me as I started to walk forward again and got out of my way.

  I saw Daniel to my right, sitting at one of the bolted down tables in the food area, and pulled my hood that way a bit more, turning to the side. There was a café nearby, so I went and bought myself some hot chips. I hadn’t dared to eat breakfast, and the chips didn’t smell too dreadful to me.

  Besides, I needed somewhere to sit so that Daniel wouldn’t see me if we were going to loiter for much longer.

  I paid for my chips and would have sat down, but Daniel got up and started walking again. Grumbling, I left the seated area with my cup of chips and sauntered along the edges of the food court, trying not to bob up and down so much.

  I ate one of my chips. It tasted weird, but it didn’t make me throw up, so that was nice. Even if Daniel didn’t notice me throwing up, someone else was bound to, and I didn’t want to lose him again in the kerfuffle. I saw him duck into the covered walkway that led to Liverpool Street and cut across the food court a bit more to keep up.

  I was too late; by the time I stepped into the walkway, colourful shops to either side of me, I couldn’t see him at all.

  “Flaming heck!” I muttered to myself. It felt like everything was slipping away from me; Daniel, life, sanity—humanity. And it felt like there was nothing I could do about any of it.

  I kept walking anyway, kicking moodily at the pavement. I hadn’t got the shopping for this week yet, so I might as well go to the supermarket by going the long way around.

  I made a face at myself in the shop windows as I passed, startling one of the sushi girls who looked up at the wrong time, and the next minute found myself dragged by the collar into a dark, open doorway.

  “Got you!” said a voice, as the door slammed shut.

  “Ow!” I said indignantly, but the hand around my throat didn’t get any looser. Someone fumbled at the wall and a light flickered on, but I already recognised the voice.

  Daniel looked down at me grimly and asked, “Why are you following me?”

  “That’s flamin’ rich! I’m minding my own business, eating chips. Ah man, you spilled half of ’em!”

  “Don’t lie to me,” he said. “I saw you near the police station and again when I went through the Cat and Fiddle.”

  “You’re dreaming,” I said.

  “And I smelled you all around my place last night when I got back,” he said. “I don’t like people following me.”

  “Funny, that,” I said. “With how much you follow Erica around. What’s that about?”

  “That’s none of your business!” snarled Daniel, and there was wild yellow to his hazel eyes.

  Beggar me. I wished, fleetingly, that Zero was around.

  “You’d better start talking,” Daniel said, between his teeth. “Why are you following me?”

  My newly awakened nose told me something useful. “’Cos you smell good,” I said.

  He gave a heavy sigh, like he was used to this sort of thing, and let go of my collar. “It’s not much good sniffing after me. I’m not interested.”

  I tried very hard not to roll my eyes. What a galah.

  “Anyway,” he said, “it’s probably just because you’re so young and I’m the first one you’ve smelt.”

  Hah! He was a shifter! I knew it! And he knew I knew it—more impo
rtantly, he also knew I was newly turning wolf myself.

  Once the elation of a correct suspicion died away, I looked at him dubiously. Was that him trying to be kind about rejecting my supposed advances? Okay, maybe he wasn’t a complete galah.

  Daniel mistook my dubious look, and said, “It’s true. Everything smells different before your first time; you’ll find someone a lot better than me when you can judge properly with your nose. You shouldn’t be eating that stuff, either.”

  I glanced down at my chips. “What? Why?”

  “You’ll just throw it up again,” he said. “You should be eating meat right now. If you want to transition safely, I mean.”

  “Listen, Wolf Boy,” I said, “I’m not eating raw meat.”

  He stiffened. “Don’t call me Wolf Boy.”

  “Why not? It’s true.”

  “I’m not a b—” he stopped in irritation, and asked, “How would you like it if I called you Wolf Girl?”

  “Me? I don’t care. You can call me what you want.” It wasn’t like being called Pet was better than being called Wolf Girl, after all. It wasn’t my name, either.

  Daniel opened and closed his mouth, then said, “Whatever. Don’t follow me from now on!”

  “You can’t tell me what to do,” I said to his retreating back; but I wasn’t really talking to him. “You’re not my owner.”

  Daniel, from further up the stairs, said impatiently, “Are you coming?”

  “Yep!” I said, and hurried up the stairs after him. “Hang on, are you inviting me into someone else’s house?”

  “It’s not a house,” he said, and plucked the chip cup out of my hand. He threw it in the bin, disregarding my complaints, and put a frying pan on the stovetop. From the fridge, he took a very big steak, red and soft and delicious.

  I nearly choked on my own saliva and coughed to try and hide it.

  “It’s a cooking school,” Daniel said. “A friend of mine owns it.”

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  Daniel rolled his eyes, but didn’t answer. The pan waited on the stovetop until I saw the heat shimmer, then he threw the steak in. It sizzled for about ten seconds before he turned it over and did the same for the other side.

  My stomach grumbled so loudly he could have heard it from outside. I saw his cheeks curve in what must have been a grin, but by the time he turned around again with the steak on a plate his face was back to its usual sullen droop.

  “Eat it and go home,” he said, dropping the plate in front of me with a knife and fork. “I don’t have time to waste with you. I’ve got somewhere to go.”

  I wanted to tell him again that he wasn’t the boss of me, but I was too hungry. I was so hungry that when the red juices ran out from the steak, even the colour didn’t put me off. From first cut to last piece, I only took a minute to eat it, and then I sat back with the satisfied feeling that at last I had eaten. That was stupid, because I’d eaten well up until yesterday, and I’d had breakfast that morning without throwing it up; but it felt as though I had eaten bubbles all week instead, and that I’d finally been able to eat real food for the first time in that week.

  “If you’ve finished, go away,” Daniel said. He took the plate from me and ran it under the tap. “Go on; out.”

  I did as I was told, skipping down the stairs before he could get any more aggro than he was. I could see enough of Between around the place to guess that I could get away if he got angry and turned wolf, but there was nothing to stop him coming after me, so I’d prefer to be out on the street before I annoyed him too much.

  He followed me and locked the door behind us in a pointed sort of way.

  “What?” I demanded. “I didn’t sneak in—you grabbed me! What’s the hurry, anyway?”

  “I told you; I’ve got somewhere I’ve got to be in twenty minutes.”

  “Funny, that,” I told him instead, grinning. “I got somewhere to be, too.”

  He looked at me in distrust, but started off down the arcade. “Where?”

  “Give you two guesses.” I was pretty sure I knew where he was going, so he might as well know I was going there, too, now that we were out in the open again.

  “I’m not playing stupid games with you,” he said, and lengthened his stride until he was a couple metres ahead.

  I followed at the same trot I use with Zero but hung back a bit more than usual. It didn’t really matter whether he got there a bit quicker than me or not; we were going to the same place, and Erica didn’t finish for another fifteen minutes at least.

  It wasn’t until I turned up Campbell Street after him that Daniel spun on his heel, glaring at me. “I told you not to follow me!”

  “Not following you,” I said smugly, without stopping. “I’m going to the supermarket, too.”

  “Are you—you walked Erica home the other day, didn’t you?”

  “Yep.”

  He stared at me, angry and baffled in equal measure. “Just go home!”

  I kept walking and passed him by. “What, and let a little creeper like you follow her home? Yeah, I don’t think so.”

  “I’m not a creeper!” snapped Daniel, striding after me.

  “Yeah? You look pretty creepy to me.”

  Daniel grabbed my arm and hauled me around to face him. “Don’t bother Erica! I’m warning you, Pet—!”

  I kicked him in the shin and yanked my arm free while he was still swearing and hopping.

  “You’re flamin’ lucky I’ve only had a couple of training sessions!” I told him. “Otherwise you’d be in trouble!”

  “You can’t kick me!” he said.

  It was the shock in his voice that made me curious.

  “I can, you know,” I said. “I just did.”

  “You’re younger than me!” he said, in disbelief. “You haven’t even turned yet! You should be susceptible to my commands—you shouldn’t even think twice about obeying!”

  “Dunno,” I said, “but you’re susceptible to my sneakers, so I’d flamin’ watch it, if I were you.”

  Daniel, his eyes glinting yellow again, said, “Do not kick me in the shins again!”

  I felt a tug of acquiescence somewhere deep in my consciousness, faint and annoying and oddly difficult to resist, so I kicked him in the shin again.

  “You’re not my owner!”

  Daniel gave a yelp of pain and grabbed that shin. “Stop it! If you were already with a pack, you should have said!”

  “Why should I tell you anything?” I demanded. I suppose I was already in a pack, if it came to that. Zero, Athelas and JinYeong were bloodthirsty, non-human and deadly; close enough to wolves.

  I heard him following me as I turned into the carpark, but when I looked over my shoulder at the entrance to the store, he’d stopped by the sign without coming in. Maybe he was planning on following both of us when we got out.

  At any rate, there wasn’t any need to worry about him; Erica and I would be in public all the way home, and it was pretty likely that Zero would be somewhere around as soon as he finished, too.

  I was nearly too late to meet Erica by the time I got my groceries; as I hurried out with my plastic bags I saw her at the entrance, craning her neck this way and that, her shoulders stiff.

  “Looking for me?” I asked.

  Erica’s face brightened straight away. “Pet! You’re here!”

  “Had to get some groceries,” I explained, but that didn’t take away the smile from her face. I felt a bit warm and pleased; it was nice to be needed. I’d probably have to watch that feeling—it was the sort of thing that made it hard for me to say no when she asked me for help.

  “Thank you!” she said. “I know I asked, but I didn’t really think you’d be here. It’s a lot to ask from someone I’ve only known a week.”

  “No worries,” I said, cheerfully. “I told you; I had to get my groceries.”

  Anyway, Zero had finished for the day, too; I saw him flutter past like a huge white shadow, which was comforting. Daniel
hadn’t hurt me when he had the chance, which was nice, but that looked like it was because he thought of me as a pack member. He didn’t think of Erica that way, so all bets were off when it came to her. I wouldn’t bet too much on him not hurting me if I got between them, either; and Zero’s ghostly presence was a comfort.

  Chapter Nine

  When I got back home, I climbed in through the upstairs living room window for old times’ sake, bags and all.

  Actually, that’s a lie. I climbed in that way so I could put the dryad back in my bedroom before Zero caught me coming in with it. They would probably want to debrief me as soon as I got in, and I didn’t want to risk being caught with it. Of course, they’d all know I’d come in that way, but I didn’t think it would occur to them to ask me why. Just a weird little thing that the pet does.

  When I came downstairs, Athelas said, “Sneaking in, Pet?” over his shoulder as he selected a book from the bookcase, but he didn’t bother to look at me, so he mustn’t have been too worried.

  “You’re home early,” I said to him.

  “Coffee, Pet,” said Zero.

  I went to put away the groceries, then got the coffee and biscuits, feeling a bit miffed. I had stuff to tell them, and all they had to say to me was sneaking in, Pet? and coffee, Pet.

  Flamin’ rude, that.

  JinYeong came home as I was carrying the tray into the living room. He didn’t acknowledge me by anything more than a half-hearted snarl in passing, but that wasn’t something I really cared about anyway.

  He probably just hadn’t had enough admiration today.

  “Got stuff to report,” I said to Zero, passing him his coffee and a plate for his biscuits.

  “Later,” Zero said, at last looking up from his knives. I expected him to go back to his knives again, but instead he continued to gaze at me, his face expressionless.

  I cleared my throat. “What? I’m not late. You lot won’t want dinner until later.”

  “Where have you been digging around?”

  I blinked innocently at him, but that only made the air a bit colder. I cleared my throat again and said, “I was going for a walk when I saw Daniel, so I followed him.”