by Melissa Gunn
“Oh Freya, you and your cats.” Her mother laughed; her grumpiness forgotten for now. “Alright, so elves are smaller. You’ll have to study up on what beings can help to grow things. That’s useful to know. What plant is considered to be a sign that elves are near?”
Freya made a face at her mother.
“You and your plants, Mum! It’s lords and ladies, isn’t it? That one with the leaves that look a bit like sorrel.”
“Yes, and you won’t forget that one in a hurry, will you?”
The memory of burning mouth and lips after biting into the leaves of that toxic plant one hungry afternoon was indeed etched into Freya’s memory.
“No. Never.”
“Right, moving on. You’ve covered what you remember about huldufólk, as little as that is; what about volcano gods?”
“Oh, Mum,” complained Freya, “volcano gods are even less relevant to me than frost giants. We don’t even have volcanoes in this country.”
“Not here, but plenty of other places in the world have them. And you know that where people go, their gods and the descendants of those gods go with them. Why, in the country I grew up in, volcano gods were so thick on the ground every tenth person was descended from one!” Danae was more animated than usual when she talked about her country of origin.
Freya rolled her eyes. She didn’t quite manage to escape her Mum noticing.
“Be polite, Freya,” said Danae sternly.
Tammy spoke up from across the room where she’d been glued to her phone all afternoon. Somehow, she managed to avoid half of their Mum’s grilling sessions.
“Come on, Mum, we know you come from far away, where the things invisible to see are different from here. You’ve told us often enough we could recite your story backwards.”
“Yeah, Mum. No volcanoes here, no volcano gods. Right?”
Their mother was clearly hurt, the corners of her mouth turning down, but she drew a deep, steadying breath.
“Just because you’ve lived in this country all your lives, doesn’t negate my experience. Also, people come from all over the world, so you could meet a volcano god or his offspring anywhere, not only near a volcano. And why are you still on that phone, Tammy? I told you to go read a book, or do your homework.”
Tammy sighed loudly and pointedly.
“All right, Mum. I’ll listen to a book. Reading’s too hard. I don’t see the point of homework though.”
“Tammy,” said Danae, a warning in her tone.
Tammy rose and went to dig her laptop out of her bag, flipping it open as she sat down again.
“Good. Now, Freya, sit still and tell me about volcano gods one more time,” said Danae.
Seeing her mother close to the edge of anger, Freya took a breath herself. Things were so different now, without their Dad. She missed him taking her out in the weekends. He always used to take them for chips on the beach. And every time, he ended up talking to dozens of people Freya didn’t know, but he seemed great friends with. She wondered for a moment if her Mum ever got to talk to other adults these days. Maybe not. Maybe that was why she spent so much time giving lessons to Freya and Tammy.
“OK, Mum. Here’s what I know...”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
AUTUMN
The long, empty summer passed slowly. Freya hadn’t managed to make any new friends at school before the summer holidays, so she was forced to hang around at home, or go for walks by herself. Tammy could sometimes be persuaded to play games, but she spent more time on her phone than talking to her sister. Freya was almost glad when autumn and school came around again.
The skies were grey and stormy on the first day of school. Tammy and Freya had to walk home despite the weather; Tammy met Freya outside the gate of her school. The wind was whistling through narrow streets. Rubbish piled up in sheltered corners and the promise of rain was in the air.
“This is sprite weather,” remarked Tammy. “We should look out for them.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Aren’t sprites dangerous? Like the volcano gods Mum is always going on about?” As usual, Freya took a more cautious approach than Tammy.
“Sprites are a totally different kettle of wool.”
“I think you’re mixing your phrases.”
“Doesn’t matter. The point is, they’re not so much fun. So, when I say look out for them, I mean look out for them so we can avoid them.”
Freya looked at her sister curiously. Tammy wasn’t the sort to avoid any being, as a rule. Tammy saw her looking.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Look, I was out in a storm once and got shocked by them. It wasn’t a fun experience and I don’t want to repeat it, that’s all.”
The rain chose that moment to fulfil its promise, and the girls broke into a run. There was a flash, thunder rolled, and a red light flickered off to the right.
“Faster, Freya! There are sprites around for sure.” There was another flicker, to the left this time. “Fenris’ teeth! I don’t want to get caught out here with them. Can’t you run any faster?”
“No, I can’t! I’m puffed!” More thunder, and Freya felt a sharp pain zip through her heel.
I’m sure I haven’t been hit by lightning; I’d notice that more. Wouldn’t I?
Freya glanced back, and there was a flickering red-hued figure behind her. Not the same as Lio back on the beach, after their house had been washed away. This figure was less human-looking, more elemental, if that was a word.
“Is that a sprite then, Tammy?” she gasped.
Tammy looked back.
“Yes!”
Freya found she was able to run faster, after all. She twisted and turned through the streets, feet pounding on the asphalt. Tammy overtook her, and Freya felt another of those unpleasant shocks. She found another reserve of speed. At last, their home was in sight. They tumbled through the door and slammed it shut behind them. Tammy sank down with her back to the door. Freya followed suit.
“And that is why I don’t like sprites,” said Tammy.
“I see what you mean.” Freya shivered. She hoped she never encountered sprites like that again. “Can sprites kill us?”
“Not as far as I know. But I’ve never waited around to find out.”
Tammy scrabbled at her school bag, and pulled out her phone.
“Why the hurry with the phone, Tammy? I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to have boyfriends home on weeknights.”
Tammy directed a brief glare at Freya.
“I’m not trying to get hold of a boyfriend, I’m checking that it still works, dummy. Electric shocks aren’t good for phones.”
“I guess not. How did you get that phone, anyway? It’s not fair that you have one and I don’t.”
“I didn’t get it from Mum and Dad if that’s what you’re asking. Thank Frigg, it’s turning on. I thought those sprites had shocked it dead for sure.”
“And where would you be without your phone. Oh, I know. You might actually talk to us in the evening instead of being on your phone all the time.” Freya wasn’t sure if she just wanted more of her sister’s attention, or a phone of her own.
Perhaps attention and a phone would be good.
“So, if you didn’t get it from Mum, who did you get it from?”
“Not a pesky little sister, that’s for sure.”
“Come on, Tammy, tell me. Or I’ll ask when Mum’s here. And tell her about that new Min demi.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“Would, too.”
Tammy looked at her consideringly. Freya looked back, trying to look fierce. The effect was ruined by Mr Fluffbum sauntering down the hall to sniff disapprovingly at Freya’s wet bag. He looked at her questioningly.
“Sorry, Mr Fluffbum. It’s not dinnertime yet,” said Freya.
The cat turned his back, sat down and stuck up a hind leg to clean.
“I guess it doesn’t hurt to tell you,” said Tammy, ignoring the cat; “after all, you’d onl
y tell your cat. Dan gave me the phone when I first met him. He was getting a new one from his parents, and he gave me his old one so we could talk. OK, nosey?”
“If that was all, why the big deal?”
“Because I told Mum it was from a school friend. So, keep it to yourself and your cat, alright?”
“Alright.” Since Tammy had gotten her phone from a boyfriend, there was no chance of Freya getting one from their Mum. She sighed. No chance of a phone, sprite-shocks in the storm, and what was the bet that there was no food left in the house, either? It wasn’t shaping up to be a good afternoon.
The wind was still howling when Freya woke up in the night. Mr Fluffbum had leapt onto her bed and was walking to and fro on top of her, instead of curling up as a welcome warmth beside her.
“What is it, Mr Fluffbum?” she muttered. “I’m still trying to sleep here.”
Mr Fluffbum’s claws needled her sharply and she sat up abruptly.
“Frigg’s chariot, that hurts!”
Having got her attention, the cat leaped off her and walked to the door, looking back expectantly. Freya groaned.
“Don’t tell me you’re hungry now. We won’t have money till Mum’s been paid. And the shops aren’t open in the middle of the night even if I had money for cat food.”
Mr Fluffbum uttered a short, plaintive meow and scratched at the door.
“OK, I’ll let you out. Maybe you really do need to catch your own food.”
Stepping carefully so as not to wake Tammy or Danae – most of the floorboards had their own individual creak – Freya made her way to the front door, following Mr Fluffbum’s gently waving tail. Waiting for her cat to go out into the heaving night air, Freya wondered if Lio was out there somewhere. It was certainly a stormy enough night for him. When Mr Fluffbum stepped out, she followed – keeping a sharp eye out for sprites.
It wasn’t far to the sea – too close for comfort, in fact.
At least we’re not right on the cliff anymore, Freya reminded herself as she skirted the neat hedge that divided the shore road from the seashore. Mr Fluffbum had slipped underneath it, of course. On the far side of the hedge, the beach stretched out into the distance, the tide out, only small rivulets wending their way to the sea. Here and there, white shells half buried in sand gleamed in the light from seaside houses. At first, Freya thought she’d followed Mr Fluffbum for no good reason, but then a flickering in the distance resolved itself into a solitary running form.
Lio. Freya felt a smile tugging at her lips. At last, someone who she could talk to without holding back or pretending to be something she wasn’t.
When Lio at length jogged up to her, she was barely surprised when he offered her a half-wave before bending down to present a small, gleaming fish to her cat.
“Are you always prepared for cat-feeding?” she asked.
Lio grinned.
“I’d like to say yes and claim higher knowledge, but it would be a lie,” he replied. “I saw you in the distance, and luckily there was a shoal of fish nearby. Small ones, of course. We don’t get the big fish anymore; they’ve all moved north or been fished out. But I don’t think your cat minds.”
They both looked at Mr Fluffbum, who was making toothy inroads to the fish.
“I almost think he prefers your offerings to cat food,” Freya said.
There was an awkward pause.
Talk about something other than your cat! Freya berated herself.
“Do you know what to do about sprites?” she asked.
“Avoid them?” suggested Lio.
“Easy to say, but how do you do it? You must come across them all the time, since you’re always in storms.”
“Rubber soled shoes,” Lio said, waggling a foot in demonstration.
“That’s all? Seriously?”
“Nah, they’re just too scared of my Dad to come after me,” Lio said. “But the rubber shoes help too.”
Freya rolled her eyes. Not much help there.
“Any progress on finding your powers?” Lio asked.
“If only,” sighed Freya. “I keep hoping it’ll become really obvious one day. But no luck yet.” She crossed her arms, tucking in her hands. Her second-hand pyjamas were no match for the wind that howled along the empty beach.
“You’ll figure it out,” Lio assured her. “Every demi does, if they have enough power. And I’m sure you do.”
“I hope so.” So much for someone I can talk to about anything, this is just as stilted as the conversations at school.
“Tell you what. If you haven’t figured it out when I see you next, maybe we can do some experiments. See what you can and can’t do.”
Freya felt a flicker of hope at the thought.
“That sounds great. Can’t we start now?”
But Lio was shaking his head.
“Can’t you feel the change in the wind? This storm is on its way out. And that means I am too. See you soon!” Lio touched her arm, so briefly she wasn’t sure it had happened, and ran off in the direction of the distant sea.
EVERY STORMY NIGHT after that, Freya slipped out to see if Lio was about. Often, he wasn’t there, and Freya felt foolish for having left her warm bed for a cold beach. But a few weeks shy of winter, with the wind the only reason there was no frost on the ground, Lio was there, skimming stones from the thin strip of sand between the seawall and the sea. The beach was hardly there when the tide was in. Freya crouched down beside him, her nose already numb with cold.
“How can you stand to stay still when it’s colder than the lowest level of the underworld?” she asked.
“I never notice the cold. Lucky, really, or my life would be a good deal less fun.”
“And fun is the most important thing?”
“Some days, it’s all there is,” Lio said seriously.
“Well today, there is more than fun. Can we do some experiments to figure out my powers?” Freya was half hopeful, half full of trepidation. What if they tried and nothing happened? What if she had no powers to find? Her sister had been well into discovering her own powers by Freya’s age.
Lio stood up and stretched.
“Now that does sound like fun,” he said.
A chilly half hour later, Freya wasn’t sure that it was fun at all. Lio had had her brush her hands over plants, lie on the earth and speak to it, jump through gusts of wind, hold rocks and hum to them, and finally wade into the waves on the very edge of the sea. None of it had made her feel like she was brimming with power, and the last effort had left her soaked and shuddering with cold.
“I haven’t tried you with fire,” Lio pondered out loud. “but fire’s tricky to experiment with. It doesn’t seem like a likely power for you with your parents, either. You might have some sort of trigger that you need to use, too. And the possibilities for that are endless.” He shrugged, lifting his arms helplessly. “Sorry. Maybe we can try again another time.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
SPRING
After the storms of autumn and winter, it was a surprisingly dry spring. Freya hoped that this meant she’d find some outdoor-minded people to make friends with. After all, she could talk about plants, and they weren’t surrounded by the mysteries of the demi-world. But before the spring was well advanced, Danae announced that they were moving again.
“I’ve got a better job, girls. And I won’t be sorry to move out of this house.” Danae looked at the graffiti-covered walls with distaste.
They took a bus to the town where the new job was located, carrying their things in a random assortment of bags and suitcases. Freya had managed to acquire a second-hand cat cage from someone’s dumped rubbish. It certainly made it easier to carry Mr Fluffbum with them, though the cage bumped painfully against Freya’s legs as she lugged it along on the long walk from the bus stop to their new abode. Distressed wails emerged at regular intervals.
“Sorry, Mr Fluffbum. We’ll get there soon. I hope.”
Both Freya and Tammy were unconvinced by their new cottage
when they arrived at last. A two-story red brick building at the end of a road on the outskirts of town, it was identical to every other house on the street, except that it was missing several tiles from its red roof. The garden around it was overgrown, a mass of weeds obscuring any landscaping that might once have been present.
‘It’s very cheap,” said Danae as the family stood outside the house, looking at it in some dismay.
“It’s lucky it’s been so dry,” said Freya, noticing some of the missing roof tiles in the grass beside the front door.
“Mum, exactly how much are we paying for this dump?” Tammy’s voice was sharp. She didn’t wait for Danae’s reply. “Too much, I bet. Did you actually sign a contract? Are we stuck here?”
“Of course, I signed a contract, Tammy. You don’t get to rent a place unless you do. For your information, young lady, we’re here for six months, at least. It depends on if I can get a better job again. If I manage that, we won’t stay long - or if we do, we’ll make sure the landlord does some repairs. Meanwhile, we can make it clean at least.”
Tammy sighed dramatically.
“I suppose the weather’s warming up. Honestly, Mum, does this place even have running water?”
“There’s a stream nearby...” Danae’s eyes glinted. Tammy didn’t notice. Freya did, and held her tongue.
One, two, three and...
“Mum!” Tammy was outraged.
“Of course, it has running water, Tammy. It may not be warm water, of course. I’m not sure that the hot water tank is working. Your father was always better at checking on that sort of thing.”
“Wow, did you hear that, Freya? Mum admitted Dad was good at something!”
“Oh, shut up, Tammy. Don’t make things worse,” said Freya.
“Girls, stop bickering and let’s get to work on the inside. Freya, there’s some old cloths in the kitchen, you can start cleaning there. Tammy, you can start in the bathroom. You’ve always had more water affinity than me. Get some water flowing in there.”
“Are you telling me I can invite water nymphs into the bathroom?”
“No, Tammy, I’m not. I’m telling you to clean the bathroom the old-fashioned way, with soap and water. No nymphs inside, thank you. We’d be washed away in no time.”