by Melissa Gunn
“How come you always seem to have time after school, when I’m doing homework with Mum?” Freya was more interested in unfair treatment than in Tammy’s boyfriend.
“I’ve already learnt all that stuff. Anyway, as I was saying, Dan’s out here doing repairs on the wildlife rescue place, so maybe he’s a carpenter who happens to like animals. Anyway, he was going to show me some of the wildlife tonight. You know, the nocturnal things like badgers and bats and foxes. It seemed like a good opportunity to move things along. Then this stupid storm blew up and ruined a perfectly decent house - don’t tell Dad I said that. But I figure we’ve secured what we can from the storm, so my time’s my own. Don’t tell Mum, will you?” Tammy finished applying eyeshadow and moved on to shaping her lips with a red pencil.
“I have to tell her something, she’ll ask where you’ve gone. Though at this rate, she’ll arrive back before you go,” said Freya.
Tammy checked the time on her phone, which was plugged into a wall socket to charge, and swore.
“Frigg. I’m going to have to run. And I hate running. Look, tell Mum I’ve gone to talk to a friend. It’s true enough. See you in a bit.”
Tammy finished her lips with a dark red lipstick, then dashed out the door with her half-charged phone, leaving Freya alone with her thoughts and her cat.
“Well, Mr. Fluffbum. Was that the right thing to do? I know she would be insufferable if she stayed here, but will she be safe out in a storm with some biology student or carpenter?”
Mr Fluffbum paused in grooming his black and white fur and looked at her long enough to blink once, slowly.
“I hope that’s a yes. I wish I could understand your thought processes. Mind you, that would be a big jump from the way things are at the minute. I’m not sure I understand anyone else’s thought processes right now. Why would Tammy want to go out on a night like this, right after we lost our house? I wish Mum and Dad would get back. I didn’t think I’d miss Tammy - she’s out so much anyway - but it’s pretty lonely here after all. Even with you.”
Freya curled up as close to Mr Fluffbum as she could without disturbing him, and tried to imagine that this cramped room was her own. Even when she closed her eyes, she couldn’t manage it. The bed was too hard, the smells were all wrong. But she must have gone to sleep eventually.
CHAPTER THREE
NIGHT WAKENING
That night, Freya dreamed of tsunami again. She’d had recurring dreams of giant waves most of her life, ever since a real wave had plunged her into the water when she was small. Freya didn’t know how old she’d been when the wave rolled her, but the memory was still crystal clear. She’d been playing in the waves, jumping with them as they rolled into shore, letting the swell of water help her to defy gravity. Suddenly, a huge wave had risen before her. She’d tried to leap with it, but it curled over her head, momentarily encasing her in a tube of air surrounded by water. She could see the sun glinting through the sea above her head. A few tiny fish were visible, silvery sides flashing. It was beautiful.
Then the wave broke, flooding her air-filled tube, and Freya was tumbled over and over, white foam filling her eyes as the wave battered her against the sandy bottom. She couldn’t tell which way was up. Her need for air burned in her, her instinct telling her to breath while her brain told her to keep her mouth shut against the roiling water. She didn’t quite manage to obey her brain. Salt burned the back of her nose as she choked on seawater. She started to panic and flailed wildly, forgetting her swimming lessons completely. A moment later, it was over, the wave receding and leaving her gasping on wet sand. She’d been unable to stand up before the next wave flowed around her, this one not so large, but still terrifying to the recently submerged Freya. Somehow, she found her feet and ran from the oncoming tide, collapsing again when she was halfway up the dune, well out of reach of the waves.
Freya woke up, gasping as if she’d been running from the waves again. The dusky spider-speckled ceiling came slowly into focus as she lay on her back fighting for breath. Mr Fluffbum nudged her hand for attention, and she gratefully patted the cat. As she regained breath control, her reasoning brain woke up.
It’s just because of what happened to the house she assured herself. Nothing to worry about here. We’re much farther from the sea now.
Freya lay in the dark, listening. All she could hear was rain pattering on the window.
“Mum? Dad?” There was no answer. Freya sat up. Mr Fluffbum twitched an ear but remained still, a dark blob on the pale coverlet of her bed. The room was poorly lit, but Freya could see a couple of motionless shapes on the biggest bed, separated as far as the still-narrow bed would allow. At least her parents appeared to have made it back. But why hadn’t they woken her to ask about Tammy? There was no sign of her sister in the room. Freya wondered where the boxes and piles of their things had ended up. How late was it? Surely Tammy should be back by now. Moving slowly to avoid bumping into things, Freya still managed to walk into the end of an unseen box. She muffled a curse, barely, as the hard edge caused a shooting pain up her shin. So that’s where the things were. Her parents stirred briefly but subsided without fully awakening.
Freya crept closer to the window. Where was Tammy? And why had Freya woken up? The rain was tapping softly against the window, nothing like the earlier deluge. Just as she was noting that, a sudden gust of wind made the rain batter noisily. Was that the noise that had awoken her? She didn’t think so. Life in their cliff-top home had meant she was used to the sound of battering rain at night. She shivered. It still didn’t look like good weather to be outside in. Had Tammy gotten safely to the wildlife centre? Perhaps she hadn’t noticed how late it had gotten. Lightning split the night and thunder rumbled. Freya gasped; her heart thundering almost louder than the storm outside. The lightning had momentarily been tinted red. And just outside the window, the flash of light had illuminated a figure peering in. Freya jumped back.
Without any desire to go closer, but equally unable to relax when she knew there was someone outside, Freya edged closer to the window again. Predictably, she could now see nothing outside. The dark skies and rain combined to make it impossible to identify anything. There was a scuffle beside her as Mr Fluffbum leaped onto a conveniently placed box to peer out beside her. Lightning flashed in the distance, and Freya was afforded a momentary view. Moving away in the direction of the retreating storm was a lone figure. The reflections of streetlights on the wet ground made it look like the figure’s feet weren’t touching the ground.
“Now that is just odd. I’m going to have to ask Mum a bit more about storm deities in the morning. I wonder if Tammy knows anything?”
Freya considered for a moment. She shouldn’t go outside at night, by herself. But she couldn’t leave this mystery unsolved. Not with Tammy still out there somewhere. She gave Mr Fluffbum a quick scratch under the chin.
“What do you think, Mr Fluffbum, shall we go see who’s walking in the storm? It seems an odd thing to do. I don’t know if I mean someone walking around or us going out to check. Maybe both. Oh well, everything else is strange tonight, why not that too?” She edged over to the door, attempting not to bump into anything else, then opened it with care, trying not to let it creak. She had to go down badly lit stairs - mercifully carpeted - in order to reach an outside door.
How on earth did someone manage to look in the window on the second floor?
Peering out the front door, cold night wind touched her cheeks, and a spattering of raindrops dampened her clothes. She hesitated. She couldn’t see the figure anymore. She should simply go back to bed. Mr Fluffbum pushed past her and set off down the steps in the direction of the beach.
“Oh, no, let’s not go out there!” Freya said in dismay.
The cat ignored her and continued.
“Really. Sometimes I see why people get dogs, at least they occasionally listen to their owners.”
Mr Fluffbum paused to give her a glare as though he understood exactly what she was sayi
ng.
“Sorry, I still love you, Mr Fluffbum,” said Freya.
The cat continued on his way. Freya followed the cat, who led her almost all the way to the beachfront before pausing. Freya wondered why he persisted through the squalls of rain, but she kept at his heels through the maze of bungalows and guesthouses that lined the streets of their coastal town. They were at the edge of the town when they stopped, further away from Freya’s ex-house than she’d realised. He
re, instead of a cliff, gentle sand-dunes backed the beach, followed by an encampment of holiday and caravan parks. The tide had gone out in the hours they’d taken to find the bed and breakfast and move their things. The waves thundered at a safe distance now, though they were still intimidatingly large.
Freya followed the beach path through the dunes and paused to look out to sea. She was slightly sheltered from the wind by the dune to her right. She couldn’t see her ex-cottage at all from here, which was probably a good thing. She thought she might slip back into tears if she saw its familiar roof being pounded by waves again. What she could see was distracting enough. Over the sea, thunderclouds reflected the orange glow of streetlights from the town for a short way, before receding into darkness. Where visible, the underside of the clouds looked like it was boiling. Occasional lightning strikes lit up the sky. The wind whipped through the marram grass with a thin keening noise, audible between the crashes of the waves. Windblown sand bit into her pyjama trousers.
Running along the beach towards her were a small group of what looked like young boys about her size. Their tops were off, and they seemed to be racing each other. Red storm light flickered around them, though the storm itself held no such light. They caught sight of Freya, and veered towards her. She took a step back uncertainly, and tripped over her cat.
“Why did you bring me here, Mr Fluffbum?” she muttered. “There’s weird people.” Mr Fluffbum looked up at her and twined around her legs, purring.
One of the boys arrived ahead of the others. He stepped forward, taking on the role of spokesman. This close, she could see he was probably her age, older than she’d first thought. He was whip-thin with wiry muscles in his arms and his ribs were showing. Dark curly hair blew into his eyes and he impatiently shoved it back.
“Hey, cat-girl, you don’t belong out here tonight.”
Ignoring the insult, Freya tried to reply with dignity.
“Well hello to you, too. I live in this town; I’m allowed to be out here.” She was defiant in the face of opposition, no matter that she’d been wondering if she should be here a moment before.
“There’s ‘allowed’, and then again, there’s ‘why in Tethys’ name are you on the beach in a storm when we are racing’. But, since you’re here, you must be here to race us. ‘Cos we don’t need cheerleaders. Join in! Come on, last one to the lightning is octopus bait.”
Baffled, Freya watched the whole troupe of boys wheel around and race for the sea, where the lightning flashed down obligingly. She felt no inclination to join them, even when the leader turned and beckoned to her. Lightning was deadly, she knew. It would be crazy to run towards it, even if it wasn’t over the sea. And surely, if she didn’t go near the waves, she couldn’t be octopus bait? Who were these crazy storm-racers?
As the boys reached the waves, she expected them to splash in, running through the breakers like surfers would. Instead, they ran on, leaping waves but skimming over the surface. They were clearly more than just crazy boys. Thunder rolled, echoing along the empty beach. For a moment Freya thought she could see Thor with his hammer in the thunderheads.
No, I must be imagining it. No-one’s seen Thor for centuries, only his offspring. Or so Mum says.
She shook her head as if to negate the thought. She could hardly see the boys now; the waves were high out at sea. Just as she thought this, she once again glimpsed the leader, racing back towards her, so fast he was on the sand by the time she’d identified him. He raced panting up to her, and suddenly grinned.
“Sorry you wouldn’t race tonight. I guess since it’s your first time out we shouldn’t make you octopus-bait though. See you again some time, maybe? I’m Lio. Apeliotes, really, but I prefer Lio. ‘Cos otherwise they’d call me Ape, and who wants to be called that?” He stuck out his hand, and Freya belatedly realised he meant for her to shake it. She did so, feeling his palm unexpectedly warm and real against hers.
“I’m Freya. Sorry, I don’t think I can join in with your sort of race.”
“No problem. I just thought it might be fun. Another time?” he asked again.
“Er, sure. Sometime,” Freya replied, while privately deciding that she should definitely stay inside at night in future. Even though it might be good to talk to someone other than her family for a change...
Lio looked like he could hear the lie.
“I won’t make you run over the waves if you do.”
“Oh, good. I suppose that would help. A bit,” said Freya.
“Well, look out for me after storms then. I’d better catch up with the others, now. Till next time.”
He turned away again with a wave, and was off, fast as the wind. Freya was left alone with her cat once more.
“Well, Mr Fluffbum, was that why you brought me here? To meet someone? Or were you just after some fish?” Freya asked.
For Mr Fluffbum was crouched on the sand, sharp teeth ripping into a small, shining fish that Freya was sure had not been there before. Perhaps Lio had brought it. That would be better than her cat eating something old and smelly, anyway. She waited impatiently for her cat to finish the fish, feeling the cold bite of the wind through her thin pyjamas now that she was still. The cat completed his meal and began washing his face with lazy licks of his paw.
“That doesn’t look like it would end up with a clean face, you know.”
Mr Fluffbum ignored her comment and continued his ablutions. At last, he was done. Freya was shivering by then. Together they walked back to their temporary home. It felt like it took forever. Freya was glad to snuggle under the blankets to warm up when at last they got home. It took her a while to drop off, as she considered her unusual evening out. At least Mr Fluffbum had got fed. Finally, sleep claimed her.
It seemed like only the next moment that Freya was awoken by a clatter at the door to their crowded room as Tammy returned and promptly fell over a box.
“Be quiet, Tammy. You’ll make Mum and Dad,” muttered Freya.
“Surely this is more stuff than we had at home?” Tammy complained in a hissing whisper. “Oh, Freya, did I wake you up? Sorry. I have had the best time, thanks for being a sport this evening. Shame about having to come back here instead of having my own bed to fall into, though. I could get truly cross at that sea goddess.”
Freya yawned, then stared at her sister as her words processed through a sleep-dazed brain.
“What time is it? And what would you do? I mean, if they’re real, then goddesses are a fair bit more powerful than we are. We’re only demi-goddesses.”
“Yeah, yeah, and our powers are that of demis, far less than full-blood deities, I know.” Tammy used the shorter, easier-to-say term of demi to refer to their demi-goddess nature. “Doesn’t stop me from wanting to do something amazing though. One day I will, just you wait. But meanwhile, I am all for having fun, and fun is what I have had. Pure humans are so innocent. At least at first.”
Tammy grinned, the faint light in the room showing the white blur of her teeth. Freya shook her head.
“Should I ask, or is it yet another of those things I am too young to know about?”
“Oh, definitely too young. But you should go visit the wildlife rescue place anyway. You’d like the animals, seeing how much you like that cat of yours.”
“Er, Tammy...”
“Yeah?”
“Did you see anyone hanging around here, before you came in?”
“Other than me and Dan, I don’t think so. But there were storm sprites out earlier. You know, the ones you get
with lightning. I avoid them if I can. They used to tease me when I was about your age, trying to get me to run races with them. As if even a demi could win in a race against one of them. Why, did you see one?”
“Maybe. Yes. That’s probably what it was,” said Freya doubtfully.
“Oh well. Like I said. Avoid them if you can. Mum always said they were bad news.”
There was a creaking from their parents’ bed as someone turned over.
“Ugh, it’s too weird having all of us in one room. I’m going to sleep.”
Tammy turned her back on everyone and drew the covers on the sofa-bed over her head. Freya sighed, and followed suit. There was too much weirdness for words, tonight.
CHAPTER FOUR
DIFFICULTIES AT THE GUEST HOUSE
The next morning was chaotic. The cramped room was overly full with four people and a house worth of belongings in it. Everyone was grumpy from lack of sleep and displacement. Even Mr Fluffbum seemed out of sorts, with no regular cat food to start his morning. Freya managed to improve her cat’s mood by salvaging some boiled egg from breakfast. Her Mum and Dad hardly spoke, passing salt and pepper fiercely to each other. Freya was amazed at how much anger could be expressed with a polite gesture. Tammy slept through the breakfast hour, then woke up late, hungry and demanding food.
“And where were you last night, young lady?” Dion frowned at Tammy, hands on hips as he watched her fumbling through her bag in search of something.
“None of your business, Dad. Maybe if you spent more time paying attention to us instead of to your wine magazines, I’d want to tell you.”
“None of your lip, young lady. I asked a reasonable question, and you can give a reasonable answer,” said Dion.
“Why should I? You never do,” countered Tammy.
Danae interrupted.
“That is quite enough. Did you even think about what you were doing, leaving your sister by herself in a strange place? Anything could have happened to her. You’re grounded for the next week, do you understand? And the next time you’re left in charge of your sister, you stay with her.”