Storm Surge

by Melissa Gunn

  A clawed hand grabbed at her arm, slowing her as she twisted away from it. But she reached out in one desperate lunge and grabbed the stone fountain with both hands. She vaulted into the shallow water that surrounded the leaping horse sculptures at its centre and started to sing a song-web. She didn’t know for sure that anything inhabited this fountain, but it was an unusual thing to grace a square in such a small town. Maybe just once in her life she’d get lucky. And if nothing else, there was a chance of a water deity.

  Red-furred weres tumbled to a halt at the edge of the fountain, circling round it and growling. None of them seemed inclined to speak now. She added a couple of extra notes to her song and circled the horses herself. It wouldn’t do to have a raging grindylow or nixie grabbing her rather than grabbing her foes. The fountain was only just big enough for this spell. Reaching the end of her circle, facing the ringleader again, she completed her song.

  There was a tremendous cracking sound as the hooves of the fountain’s horses broke free. A smell of chill, dank caves rolled forth, making Freya gasp for fresher air. The stone horses leapt out of the fountain, battering were-foxes with their stony hooves, their mouths opening in silent neighs. Water splashed over Freya, making her gasp. The weres ran back the way they had come in dismay, yelping when those hard hooves came into contact with them. The sound of stone hooves on asphalt was a dull clatter, quickly receding.

  Freya didn’t wait to see what happened next. She climbed soggily out of the pool, muttering a quick thanks, and ran up the street and homewards as best she could. She left a trail of wet footprints at first, but as she ran the storm broke over her, a deluge of heavy raindrops that obliterated her trail. She could smell ozone as the rain hit the concrete.

  Freya glanced upwards. The clouds were too close now to see if sprites accompanied them. Sprites were mostly found above thunderclouds; they only descended to pester mortals when the clouds lowered. She increased her pace. She had no idea how long the being that had inhabited the fountain’s horses would keep the were-fox pack occupied, but she needed to get home before the storm reached its full fury.

  Of course, foxes were supposed to be cunning, too, so she shouldn’t discount further problems from the weres. Hopefully, they wouldn’t get in her way now. All she had to do was run a couple more streets and she’d be on the home stretch. Of course, she wasn’t used to running far at a time. She could cope with doing school sports within the limits of what was perceived as acceptable (that meant running slowly and complaining about it afterwards). Running from a were-pack was a misadventure that hadn’t come her way before, and she didn’t feel like she was fit enough for the challenge. Right now, she was gasping for each breath, she had a stitch in her side, and her legs were sending extremely negative messages her way. Assuming she got out of this mess in one piece, she was totally going to add some running training into her weekly schedule. Sadly, the limited repertoire of things that worked for her as a demi did not include superhuman strength or agility. Or growing things. Frankly, she was amazed her song-web had worked, without the support of her sister.

  Freya risked a glance back, and was encouraged that she could not see any of the red-haired were-fox boys.

  Just one more street now, she told her heaving lungs. A flash of russet glimpsed from the corner of her eyes was the only warning she was given. All at once she was at the centre of a flurry of kicks, bites and punches. The physical assault was stunning, so unexpected and rough. Freya tried to battle her way out of the middle of the brawling weres, with little effect.

  How did they catch up with me? I suppose four-legged creatures can run faster than two-legged ones.

  For a few, horrible minutes, there was nothing but pain - first individual pain points as one punch was succeeded by a kick. Then there seemed to be no discerning each blow from the next. Were those teeth in her leg?

  Yuck, I hope they brush those canines. Who knows what diseases they’re carrying?

  The thought was irrational, but helped to focus her mind away from the pain. What could she do? She wasn’t trained as a fighter, and there were more large were-foxes than she could cope with. Freya was quickly overwhelmed and pinned down by the fighting weres.

  It was an entirely unexpected relief when a sudden flash of orange light lit up the area, leaving a smell of singed fur in its wake. The were-fox boys sprang back in confusion, out of the path of the being which had burnt its way through them.

  “Home time, boys. Leave off, Lachy, Tobes.”

  “I reckon if the sprite wants her, it can have her.”

  “Yeah, he might like the smell.”

  In a burble of voices, the were-foxes retreated.

  Ugh! thought Freya. They think they’re funny. Despite the beating they had given her, Freya watched the sprite, if that’s what it was, rather than the weres. She did not trust this last-minute saviour. Also, one of her eyes had been hit, and it was already swelling and hard to see in the direction the weres had gone.

  The sprite seemed to solidify, and as Freya struggled to focus, it became apparent that it was a tallish boy, or possibly young man, rather than a sprite, with a pack of assorted dogs on leads yelping and struggling to run after the vanishing weres. The figure held something bundled up in his arms. Whatever it was, was squirming around. And the man was rather familiar. Not a sprite after all.

  “Lio? Is there a storm you don’t turn up with?”

  “It looked like you were having a bit of trouble with the locals,” said Lio. Was it only her imagination that projected an undertone of thunder to his voice? Lightning flashed over the hills, and Freya decided that yes, it was her imagination. There was plenty of real thunder around, no need to imagine any extra. Lio’s dark hair was plastered to his head by the rain, which was now pattering down in huge drops. The bundle leapt out of his arms and disappeared into the unnatural twilight. Freya couldn’t quite tell what it had been. Lio’s shoulder’s slumped.

  “Oh, Thor’s balls. I’ll have to catch him again, now. I’ve seen those weres off for now, but you should be careful not to go about alone in this town. It’s a were-haven, you know.”

  “That’s news to me. Although I was just getting educated about it, I guess. How about next time we move, you let me know in advance what sort of place we’re heading into. That’d be much more helpful than after I’ve had a run-in with some unpleasant type or other.”

  “Maybe if you tell me when you’re going and where...” Lio trailed off suggestively.

  “Yeah, right. Because you’re so reliable in your appearances.”

  “It’s not easy when you’re at the beck and call of the storm gods.”

  “Oh, so that’s your excuse? Well, I’m not buying it.”

  Freya kept up her show of snark in self-defence. She had missed having Lio to talk to, but she didn’t want to admit weakness. Why on earth had they moved to a town with weres anyway? Surely their previous experiences should have made this town a no-go area for them - if they’d known.

  “How do you always know so much about who lives where, anyway?”

  “Oh, you know. The answer is blowing in the wind.”

  “That is the worst pun.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be one, it’s a song,” retorted Lio.

  “Oh. Sorry. Umm. So, thanks for getting rid of those weres.” Apologising to people wasn’t like her at all, but then, getting beaten up was a new experience too. Come to think of it...

  “How did you see them off? All I saw was a flash of light. I thought maybe we’d been struck by lightning; except we aren’t dead. And you’ve never had dogs with you when I’ve met you before, either.” She moved her hand out of the way of a questing muzzle.

  She saw Lio’s teeth reflect another flash of lightning as he grinned. He had rather a nice smile, she thought, irrelevantly. How come she’d never noticed it before?

  “Oh, foxes don’t like my dogs. I acquired them recently. Part of growing up in my world, you know. Though they were rather fois
ted on me when I inadvertently proved that I was capable of looking after another living being. You’ll like that part - at least you will when I’ve retrieved it. These are the hounds of winter, or of war. Storm-hounds. It turns out that no matter what they’re called, they still don’t get along with cats. As for lightning... I suppose there was a bit of lightning as the dogs went after the foxes, maybe that’s why you thought of it.”

  Freya was not convinced - she was sure the light and burnt fur smell were not her imagination - but she certainly didn’t want to stand around debating it with Lio in a storm. No matter how dire the situation he had rescued her from, and no matter how nice his smile. The wind was strengthening, pushing her towards her house, and the rain on her face stung as it spat at her, such was its force.

  “Well, thanks again,” she said. “I need to get home now. Thanks. Er... Bye.” Aware that she was repeating herself, Freya backed away a few steps, then turned and ran again, as an enormous peal of thunder split the air. Lio called something after her, which she didn’t quite catch. He did not follow.

  One last effort took her staggering legs to the door of her house. The wind helped her, pushing at her back and whipping her hair into her face. Hail arrived before she got to the door, stinging her already painful skin. Luckily, she did not have to fumble for a key, as the door proved to be unlocked.

  There was nothing worth stealing inside, anyway.

  Old houses without storm defences are cheap... thought Freya, as she closed and locked the door behind her, thankful to have walls between her, the weres and the storm.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  A STORM MAKES LANDFALL

  There was nothing Freya wanted so much as a bath to wash away the feeling of the smelly were-fox hands on her. Unfortunately, with the storm already beginning to hit the town, and presumably her house still undefended - unless her Mum and sister had made some progress with storm defences - there was no chance of doing what she wanted. She slumped against the wall for a moment, before she made her way dripping into the lounge, pausing only to push off her sodden boots and hang her wet anorak onto one of the pegs by the door. It hurt to get the anorak off.

  “Mum!” she called, a note of hysteria in her voice now that she was away from the immediate threat. “Tammy! Are you home?”

  “Back here.” Her mother’s voice came from the lean-to kitchen at the back of the house. Freya made her way to the kitchen, every muscle protesting the abuse it had received as she did so. As Freya appeared in the kitchen door, her mother gasped.

  “What happened to you?” Tammy was in the kitchen too, her stiff movements suggesting that whatever she was doing, she didn’t want to be doing it.

  “I had a run-in with a pack of were-foxes. Did you know there were some in this town?” said Freya.

  “I did,” Tammy said unexpectedly, in a flat voice. “I’ve run into them a few times. I didn’t think they’d go after you though.” There was an odd note in her voice. “I told them to leave my family alone.”

  “Well, I sure wish they had listened to you.” Freya couldn’t help the bit of whine that crept into her voice. She was feeling sore, and more than a little sorry for herself. “They waited for me in an alley on the way home. I thought I’d gotten rid of them...” she paused, not wanting to mention the summoning she’d done to her mum, since that was something Tammy had taught her to do, and Mum had never mentioned the possibilities of summoning. Freya had a sneaking suspicion that their summoning abilities came from their Dad, who was never mentioned these days.

  “So, what happened?” asked Danae.

  “Well, then they jumped me just before our street. I hurt all over. They really had it in for me, even though I’d never met them before. Incidentally, I don’t think much of the citizenry in this town. No-one tried to save me until a stranger stepped in. And even he wouldn’t say why he did.” Freya wasn’t sure why she didn’t tell her Mum about Lio, who was not, after all, a stranger. Perhaps it was just that it would be so awkward explaining all those stormy nights she’d gone out alone or with her cat. She felt an almost physical stab of loss at the memory of Mr Fluffbum. She still didn’t know exactly what had happened to him. She’d spent a lot of time in the last few weeks trying to work out how a lost cat might find its way home, when its home had changed location. She hadn’t come up with an answer.

  “Well, I’m glad someone did help you out. Do you know who he was, so we can thank him?”

  “Mum, I told you he was a stranger. And he disappeared pretty much as soon as the weres did. Look, are you going to help me out or just stand there asking about other people?”

  Freya’s Mum stepped forward as though to give her a hug, but stopped short.

  “Why, Freya, you’re soaking! And some of those injuries look painful. Look, we’ve got to get the house sorted for the storm, but we’ll give you some first aid too. Here, take the frozen peas and put them on your eye while Tammy and I finish boarding up the windows in here. Does anything need bandaging? OK, I’ll tear up some curtains, they’re not doing much good anyway.” Her mother put actions to words, passing Freya a packet of frozen vegetables to use as an icepack, and cutting, rather than tearing, the old, somewhat mouldy curtains from the kitchen windows.

  “Ugh, Mum, that can’t be healthy to put on a wound.”

  “We don’t have any regular bandages, you’ll have to make do. Now, I’ve decided that since the windows here are closest to the ground, they’re probably the easiest to defend. Also, if there’s a tornado we don’t want to be on the top level of the house.” Danae paused, the tattered remainder of the curtains in her hand.

  “Those weres. They’re not waiting at the front door or anything are they?”

  “No,” said Freya. “Someone chased them away before I got home. But Mum - they could smell that I wasn’t mundane - not just a human. They said so. And they smelled pretty bad too. Even worse than you’d guess for something hanging around in a gross alleyway. And Mum, they beat me up, hurt me, and I couldn’t do anything! Why haven’t you taught us to defend ourselves? And are we safe here if they know what we are?”

  Danae sighed. This time she did hug Freya.

  “I guess I hoped you wouldn’t ever have to be in a situation where you had to physically defend yourself. I’m sorry you’ve experienced that. This house had the cheapest rent, and there was a job going. We had to come here. But weres - that’s bad news. Weres and demis have never got on well. Maybe because weres always can tell that we’re different.”

  Freya noticed her Mum’s hands were fidgeting, moving a ring up and down on her little finger.

  “Still. There’s nothing to be done today. We need to get a move on, I can hear the wind rising out there.” As she said this, a tremendous wind gust hammered the windows, which Freya now saw were partially covered with large, flattened cardboard boxes. Someone had evidently got to the local supermarket or greengrocer for supplies.

  “I don’t know how much help I’ll be. I can hardly move. What windows are left to go? And do we have candles? I don’t fancy sitting in the dark during a storm.”

  “Don’t worry about that yet, we’re almost out of cardboard, anyway. Give yourself a few minutes. There’s the solar lantern if we lose power.” The lights were still on, so they hadn’t yet lost electricity. However, in Freya’s experience, electricity would quickly be lost in a storm this size. She wished they did have a basement to retreat to. Some of the houses she’d lived in had had that, and while unpleasant on a typical day, they were a haven in a storm. The cold outside seemed to reach inside her, and she had a sudden, intense craving for a steaming mug of hot chocolate. She wondered if they had any left, and if there was a chance of boiling water before they lost power.

  “Can I get some hot chocolate? Then maybe I’ll be up to helping you,” she suggested.

  “There’s a tiny bit left in the bottom of the jar. I boiled the kettle before we started on the windows. You can use that. Hurry though, the wind isn’t waiting
for us.” As Danae spoke, Freya could hear the howl of the wind rising. Rain battered against the windows, louder where they weren’t covered with card. Every so often the rain was mixed with hail, making a sharper sound against the glass. There was still half of the kitchen to go. Tammy was flattening more boxes over by the cooker. Freya scooted past her mother to get to that end of the kitchen. It was just about the smallest room in the house, built as a lean-to on the end of an older brick structure.

  The kettle was on the cooker, so Freya busied herself getting the chocolate, stepping awkwardly around her sister. The mundane task calming her racing heart. She scraped the powder into three mugs, topping it off with the cooling hot water. Her mother and sister must have been at this a while. There was half a bottle of milk remaining in the fridge, but Freya suspected that they would be low on supplies if the storm kept them inside a while. Best to save that for later. Oh well, it won’t be the first time I’ve drunk hot chocolate without the milk it deserves. She replaced the peas in the freezer. They were getting warm, and there was every chance that the family would need to eat them, later. She drank her chocolate, appreciating the sugar rush it gave her, making her feel closer to normality. She offered the other mugs to Tammy and her mum, and took Tammy’s place flattening the remaining boxes while Tammy drank her own chocolate.

  “I’ll have mine in a bit,” said her mother when Freya offered her a mug. She was using masking tape in tiny sections to attach the card to the window-frame of the last window in the kitchen. It was dark inside the kitchen when she’d finished, despite the uncovered electric bulb. Done at last, she downed the final mug of chocolate in a long series of gulps.

  “Right then. This is our safe place. If the roof lifts, we come in here. Same thing if there’s a sprite strike. The walls should hold, they’re pretty solid. Do you girls want to bring in some pillows and blankets? We’ve probably just got time. Freya, if you need more first aid than just those peas and curtains, now’s the moment,” announced Danae.