by Melissa Gunn
I guess this is where I’ll stand, then.
“Cool dye job,” said Freya randomly.
“It’s not dye.”
Well, that’s probably not the best start to this conversation.
Freya wished she could take another step back.
“Why are you hanging around with these weres?” the blue-haired girl asked in an aggressive tone.
Freya had to laugh.
“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do less.”
“What are you doing here then? This is not the time or place for children to hang around.”
“I am not a child. And what business is it of yours where I hang out? It’s a free country.” Freya refused to be intimidated by this stranger - so long as she wasn’t being physically attacked.
“Sure, you’re free to be mauled, drowned or struck by lightning. What’s your preference?”
“How about a civil conversation?”
“At midnight during a storm? No chance.”
Another wave swirled through the square. This wave was knee-high. The storm surge was getting worse. Freya stayed in place by clutching the rails behind her. The blue-haired girl lurched sideways but kept her footing.
“OK, why do you look familiar then?”
Blue-hair looked askance at her.
“I’ve never seen you in my life.”
Freya squinted through the gloom.
“You remind me of someone - Lio!”
Lio was indeed looming behind Blue-hair. The girl turned to look at Lio. Lio’s dogs were nowhere to be seen.
“Oh, it’s you,” she said. As they looked at each other, Freya could see the similarities in their faces. They must be related. No wonder the girl had looked familiar.
“Nice to see you too, Nik. Still bothering my land dwelling friends, then?” said Lio. He was acting casual, but Freya noticed that he sauntered between her and the blue-haired girl, Nik. Was she dangerous, then?
“You never told me you had sisters, Lio. Do they all come out in storms? I thought you were worried about elves, not sisters.”
Lio looked at Freya, a frown on his face. The effect was spoiled as another wave swept past them, tugging at their legs.
“She’s my cousin. And though she affects blue hair, she’s a wind demi, not an elf. Luckily. Not to say harpie, of course.”
Nik raised a fist at Lio.
“Never let that word cross your lips again, cousin or not.”
Lio ducked away from the fist.
“Well then, never threaten my friends. Easy.”
“Excuse me, are you going two to argue all night? Because while I don’t think I can get any wetter, I actually came to see who was meeting here at midnight,” Freya interrupted.
“Vermin,” spat Nik.
“Not unless the laws have changed,” corrected Lio. The weary tone of his voice suggested that this was not the first time he’d said it.
“Still arguing? What about the kid in that tree? He’s from my class at school. Schoolkids are usually not classed as vermin, no matter how hateful they are. Even if they are weres.” Freya might not know how to make friends in this place, but she refused to be cowed by this stranger.
“I have no idea what he’s doing, other than dangerously antagonising my cousin. If I were you, I’d leave him to his fate.” Lio ignored the teasing. “Freya, Nik here is someone you should avoid. Maybe even more than those weres.”
“Don’t be rude, Lio, it doesn’t suit you,” Nik said.
Lio ignored her.
“Those weres, by the way, are now scattered all over town. No more ambushes should happen tonight.” He looked proud of himself, now. “My dogs have taken care of that.”
“Well, thanks for that, anyway. I wasn’t keen on a repeat. But I think I should check on Gareth anyway. He’s the one who dropped the note on my desk.”
“As you wish, then. Nik, can you leave off torturing that were-kid for a few minutes?”
Nik, who had been alternating her glare between Lio and Freya, now turned fully to Lio.
“What’s in it for me?”
“I could tell you where I left the rest of them.”
Nik smiled, a feral grin that made Freya uncomfortably certain that no matter how wild the weres in this town, there was always something wilder.
“It’s a deal.” The pair conferred briefly before the blue-haired Nik set off across the drenched square at a splashing run. As she reached the edge of the square, there was another blue-edged flash of lightning, and she disappeared.
“Strange relatives you have, Lio.” Despite her desire to find out what the school bully was doing up a tree being tormented by wind demis, Freya was quite prepared to give the wind demi in question a wide berth.
“Tell me about it. Just be glad it was my cousin, not my brothers.”
“You are not making me keen to meet those brothers of yours.”
“Hopefully you will never need to. They’re not as pleasant as me. And they are more powerful, too.”
“Times like this, I feel like I was behind the door when the demi-talents were being given out.” Freya was sick of feeling like the most broken demi in the box.
“Cheer up, you’re probably just missing the obvious.”
Freya glared at Lio. She wasn’t in the mood to be fobbed off with platitudes.
“Anyway, what is your weird cousin doing, going after the were-foxes? Not that I mind, of course.”
“Playing, I would guess. She doesn’t play nice though, never has. Like I definitely didn’t say, harpie. I avoid her, too. Gave me quite a shock when Nik swooped in while I was playing chase with were-foxes. So. Let’s go see that fox-kit you were so concerned about, before any older were-foxes slip back past my cousin.”
Freya allowed herself to be guided, this time. Gareth the were-fox had begun to climb out of the tree, but he stopped when Lio and Freya approached.
Probably wants to keep the higher ground. This had better not turn into a fight.
Freya decided to try to keep the initiative.
“Care to say why you chose a gang meeting, in what is probably the storm of the century, as a good spot for an evening hangout?”
Gareth looked away and mumbled something unintelligible. Freya continued the offensive - as much as she could while clinging onto the tree to keep her feet. The sea wasn’t draining out of the square, now.
“And perhaps you can share why there were dozens of your hairy acquaintances here as well?”
Gareth looked at her properly this time. It was hard to tell in the dim streetlight, but she thought he was blushing.
“My big brother’s idea. He found out I was coming here, and he brought his friends. But then him-” he pointed at Lio - “and that weird blue chick turned up and started making threats. At least the girl did, that guy just chased everyone else away with some vicious dogs.”
“So why did you invite me out here anyway?”
“...”
“That’s all you have to say?”
“I just - I’m not - I have a reputation to keep up at school.”
“One that involves insulting newcomers? You might want to do some work on yourself.”
Gareth looked away and mumbled something. It might have been an apology. Freya gave up on needling him. It seemed unlikely to improve matters anyway.
“Well, I for one want to get out of the storm. I guess I’ll have no choice but to see you round. But if I were you, I’d leave now too.” So much for the exciting midnight assignation. While there had been plenty of excitement, seeing the school bully grovel wasn’t what she had hoped for. She was about to turn away from the tree when she noticed a movement higher up in it. In the dim light, she couldn’t see much, but there was a flash of white fur. “Mr Fluffbum?” Freya asked incredulously.
Unexpectedly, Gareth spoke.
“My big brother and his friends had treed a cat when I arrived here. They sent me up after it, but I didn’t want to bring it down for them to hurt.
It went too high, anyway. Do you know how hard it is to hold onto a tree in a storm?”
“Not something I’ve tried. But is my cat alright?” asked Freya.
“I don’t know whose cat it is, but it’s definitely in one piece. My brother couldn’t get up the tree either, he’s too big. And I’ve been between him and the cat the whole time. So yeah, the cat’s fine. Probably wetter than I am, though. If it’s not rain, it’s waves. If I ever try and meet someone again, it’s not going to be down here, that’s for sure.”
“Good. Now hurry up and get out of the way, I want my cat, and he’s not going to move while you’re there.”
To her surprise, Gareth finished climbing down the tree without further argument.
“See you at school,” he mumbled, as he sloped off in a different direction to the way Nik and the other were-foxes had gone.
Freya was focused on Mr Fluffbum. She called him enticingly, and to her joy, the cat she’d thought was dead scrambled down the tree and leapt onto her shoulder. She staggered briefly but managed to keep her feet. She tried to pat him, but her hand stuck to his wet fur. She was sure he was purring, though, even through the noise of the wind and waves.
“Oh, Mr Fluffbum. I’ve missed you so much. Come on, let’s get you home.” She glanced over at Lio, remembering that he’d said her cat had run from his new dogs.
“Lio, what happened to your dogs? I hope they’re not mauling people somewhere. Or drowning.”
“I thought you didn’t like those weres?”
“Doesn’t mean I want anyone mauled.”
“Just as well I tied the dogs up back there then.”
To Freya’s astonishment, Lio led the way away from the square, around one corner, and a little way up the hill and there were his dogs. Their bedraggled tails waved frantically as Lio approached. Freya tightened her grip on Mr Fluffbum. She didn’t want a repeat escape, not when she’d just been reunited with her cat. Damp fur tickled her nose.
“Well. I guess that’s alright then.”
“Home time?” Lio asked.
“It certainly is for me,” Freya said with emphasis. The square behind them was thoroughly flooded and seemed likely to get more so. She was beginning to feel sore again, too, now that the excitement was over. The wind helped them up the hill. Freya was pretty sure the gusts were getting stronger. She wondered if Lio’s unseen brothers had anything to do with that, but decided she’d rather not know, just now.
At home, Freya farewelled Lio at the door and retreated inside. She considered her wet clothes ruefully. In the end, she stripped them off and left them in a sodden pile on the hall floor. She locked the door and put out her hand to help find her way back to the kitchen, where she rolled herself in blankets once more. Mr Fluffbum kneaded the blankets beside her, and Freya patted him happily. She was thrilled to have a cat to curl up with once more. Now it would be easier to sleep through the storm.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
AFTER THE STORM
Freya opened her eyes in the darkened kitchen. Despite the turmoil in her mind and the wind outside, she had slept almost as soon as she closed her eyes. While she slumbered, someone had covered her with another blanket usually kept in the sparsely furnished lounge. She was glad of the extra blanket. It was chilly in the unheated house. Sitting up, she saw that the warmth on her right was her mother, curled up under another blanket. The warmth on her left was Mr Fluffbum, dry now, and curled up in a tight ball with his fluffy black tail covering his nose. Between them they covered most of the space on the floor of the small kitchen.
Freya felt thrilled all over again as she looked at her beloved cat. She reached out and patted him to reassure herself that he was real and not just a figment born of wishful imagination. Mr Fluffbum gave a small meow, and tightened a paw over his eyes. He was clearly not yet ready to awaken. Freya stretched and sat up.
As she did so, she discovered that just sitting up hurt. She fingered her puffy face and decided not to visit a mirror this morning - assuming it was morning, of course. She levered herself cautiously to standing and draped her blanket around her shoulders, then decided she should leave the kitchen to inspect the house. Her cat ignored her actions.
“Nice to see you, too, Mr Fluffbum. Lio must have been feeding you well, wherever he had you.”
Looking at the gaps in the cardboard on the windows, Freya felt bad that she hadn’t helped much with the storm defences. Usually, she was the household mainstay with such preparations. Luckily, most of the windows had held. On her way out the kitchen door, Freya skirted a patch of broken glass from one smashed pane. She wondered where Tammy was. Often, if they had to defend a house from a storm, they all slept in the same room.
Freya stroked a gentle hand along the sleeping Mr Fluffbum’s back, then headed up to her bedroom to see if her memory of the damage was correct. There was no easy way to get to her chest of drawers, as the robust tree trunk that had crashed through the roof mostly covered it. Her bed was similarly covered in tree parts and the mattress was sodden. Leaves, branches and roof shingles covered her bedroom floor. It was indeed morning, as she could clearly see through the hole in the roof. The main body of the storm had passed, and only swiftly moving clouds scudded past. She could see tree branches down through the valley tossing in the stiff breeze, but the wind no longer howled. She turned away. There was nothing she could do in here without a chainsaw which she didn’t own and probably couldn’t operate even if she did.
Tammy’s room, across the stairs from hers, was eerily empty of life. It looked like it had been torn apart by an internal tornado in the dim light that filtered through its card-covered window, despite its intact roof. Drawers were pulled out; clothes were strewn over the floor and bed. She wondered what had caused the fury that resulted in such destruction. Something to talk to Tammy about... from a safe distance. Freya picked up a few of the clothes and changed into them. She and her sister were a similar size these days, and she needed something to wear. Hopefully Tammy wouldn’t mind too much, if Freya found her.
When I find her.
Bundling the discarded blanket under one arm, she headed back downstairs.
In the front room, there had evidently not been enough card to go round. The front windows had shattered and blown in. Everything was damp. Small branches and leaves had blown in too. Through the broken windows Freya could see the road and houses beyond. The roof of one house was in the garden of the one next door. Branches covered the roads, and the sycamore two doors away had blown down too, though it hadn’t hit a house that she could see. Freya tried flicking the light switch on. Nothing happened. There would clearly be a big clean-up required in the wake of this storm. At least no wind sprites had attacked while she was asleep.
Her whole body was waking up now, and telling her its woes. It was possible that her feet didn’t hurt, but everything else did. Actually, come to think of it there was a blister on her heel, from all the running she’d done yesterday.
OK, everything hurts.
Feeling sorry for herself, she limped back to the kitchen.
“Mum, where’s Tammy?”
Her mother groaned and opened her eyes, not uncurling from her foetal position.
“I don’t know, Freya. Why, do you want her?”
“I just wondered where she is,” Freya said.
“We had an argument after you fell asleep. She went out into the storm and I haven’t seen her since. I tried to stay up for her, but I guess I fell asleep.”
“What?” Freya almost screeched. “You let her go outside in the storm? With those weres around, too? She could be... be - killed! Why are you just lying around, Mum?”
Freya couldn’t believe her ears. Her mother didn’t seem to be extending any of her usual motherly care to Tammy lately.
Danae sat up, pulling the blanket around her shoulders.
“Oh, I know what it looks like. But I’m exhausted. I was up most of the night, you know. I’m too old to do that. Tammy said she’d enc
ountered those weres that set on you - before now. And that she knew how to sort them out. I couldn’t stop her going - I couldn’t leave you hurt and alone as well. And you know nothing stops her when she’s set her mind on something.”
Her mother’s explanation sounded glib to Freya, but she couldn’t summon the energy to argue effectively. All the same...
“Well, when do we go find her? Let’s take our breakfast with us and go looking. It’s not like we can do much with the house. We don’t even have a house hob here yet.”
Freya realised that her mother was crying silently, much to her discomfort. She patted Danae’s shoulder awkwardly, wondering when they’d grown so far apart. Surely it hadn’t always been like this? Freya felt like she was the mother in the room as she helped her Mum up and got the kettle boiling.
"Come on, Mum. We can’t just let her go off like this. Even if you did fight, we need to know she’s OK.” Freya felt more guilty than ever now. Not only had she failed to help defend their house, but her mother and sister had somehow argued so badly that Tammy had run off in the middle of a huge storm - and Freya had slept through it all. Blood pounded in her ears, the huge pressure of worry giving her an instant headache. Picking up her rucksack, she emptied the schoolwork from it out onto the kitchen bench, and piled in portable food from the cupboards. She looked around a little wildly, added a water bottle, and shouldered the bag.
“Come on Mum, you need to get ready. Are you coming with me, or staying here to look after the house? Or maybe you should stay here. I suppose Tammy might turn up back here and be worried we’d left without her if we’re all gone. But oh, Mum, did you see? I got Mr Fluffbum back last night! But I can’t take him with me to look for Tammy, he’s not used to the area yet.”