Freya Snow Pup Trilogy

by L. C. Mawson

  Regardless, it was a needless death that had left Freya alone.

  Now she knew it wasn’t so needless. And yet, it also hadn’t been an accident beyond her mother’s control. She had willingly given up her life, knowing it would leave Freya alone.

  Freya felt nauseous at the thought, but couldn’t pin down the exact emotion behind her distress. It was more like a hurricane within her, begging to be released.

  The bell rang, drawing Freya from her thoughts.

  “I suppose you’d better get going,” Ms Pearson told her. “Though, before you go, Freya it is imperative you tell no one about your magic. After what happened last time magic was exposed...”

  “I understand,” Freya assured her before picking up her bag. “See you tomorrow, Miss.”

  “Please, call me Amber.”

  “And if anyone hears me doing so?”

  Amber frowned. “Alright, I suppose you have a point.”

  Freya nodded before heading for the door. She was exhausted and hoped that would mean she could actually sleep that night. Though, if the man with the red eyes paid her another visit, she doubted it.

  She froze before reaching the door as it suddenly dawned on her that the man might not be a figment of her imagination. Not if magic was actually real...

  “Hey, Amber?”

  “I thought you weren’t going to call me that.”

  Freya rolled her eyes. “Ms Pearson, whatever. Yesterday, I kept seeing a man with glowing red eyes.”

  Ms Pearson stiffened. “Where?”

  “In mirrors.”

  She nodded. “Then he likely wasn’t in the room with you. He is merely stalking his prey, and your mind is trying to warn you. You have an extra sense, a sense of magic that Humans don’t have. Until you can be trained to use it, however, your subconscious will pick up on the most obvious signals around you and try to convey them to you. That is what you see in the mirrors. A warning.”

  Freya shivered. “But who is he? Why is he hunting me?”

  Amber gave her a reassuring smile. “He’s probably just a low-level Demon. Probably not even pure-blooded. You have protections that prevent others from realising that you have magic. To them, you simply appear to be a Sensitive Human.”

  “Sensitive?”

  “Some Humans have a few drops of magical blood in them. Not enough to mean anything, but enough to inoculate them against the effects of weak spells not directly aimed at them, like glamours or blanket spells. Many magical beings, including Demons, can draw magical Energy from the emotions of the people around them, and Sensitives are a particularly potent source.”

  “So, he’s only hunting me because he thinks I’m a Sensitive? What if he found out that I wasn’t?”

  Amber shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. And I think it’s best if we don’t find out.” She took a small chain from around her neck, at the end of which was a key. She leaned down to her desk, using it to unlock one of the drawers before producing a black amulet on a piece of black string.

  The black stone of the amulet shone under the fluorescent lights, but Freya could still see the blue pattern carved into it. The shade of blue reminded her of the North Sea on a clear day.

  “Here,” Amber said, passing her the amulet. “It was your mother’s, and her mother’s before her. It will help you to focus your elemental magic. There is also a basic protection spell built into it. That should be enough to keep the Demon at bay.”

  “Should?”

  Amber gave her another reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Freya. He’s no real danger to you. I promise you that.”

  WHEN FREYA MADE IT outside, Margaret was waiting for her.

  “How was your day?” she asked.

  Freya shrugged. “It was fine.”

  “Make any new friends?”

  Freya’s mind immediately jumped to Damon, but she squashed the thought as soon as it appeared. She simply shrugged once more.

  Margaret seemed to pick up on Freya’s discomfort with the topic, leaving it alone.

  “Where’s the car?” Freya asked, desperate to change the subject.

  “At home. I can’t drop you off and pick you up every day. You’ll have to walk. So, I figured I would walk you back today, so you knew the route for the morning.”

  Freya nodded. “Does that mean I could sign up for after school stuff?” She had no intention of joining any clubs, but she figured she might end up staying late with Amber to learn how to control her magic.

  “I don’t see why not.”

  When they made it back home, Freya turned on her computer to a waiting message from Alice.

  Hey. How are things going?

  Freya sighed as she slumped back in her chair.

  She didn’t want to lie to Alice. And she really wanted to talk to someone about just how ridiculous her day had been. She was also kind of afraid that, if she didn’t talk about it, it would stop being real.

  But Amber had told her not to tell anyone about her magic. Which included Alice. Not to mention, if she was going to talk to her about it, doing so in a way that would leave a digital trail would probably be the worst way to go about it.

  Good, Freya eventually typed back.

  Chapter Five

  “Does it usually take this long?” Freya asked with a frustrated groan as she gave up on her attempt to control the water within her water bottle.

  She sat back down on one of the desks, grabbing and opening her bag of crisps. Even if she wasn’t making progress, she was glad her magic lessons with Amber could take place over lunch. It spared her from having to figure out where to eat. Even a few weeks into her new school, she still hadn’t made any friends.

  Not that she wanted to...

  Amber gave her usual reassuring smile. “You’ll get there in time, Freya. You’re most likely Litcorde, so it’s not surprising it’s taking you a while. Not to mention, the more theory you can learn before you start using your powers, the easier they’ll be to control.”

  Freya nodded, though Amber’s words did little to settle her frustration. As much as Amber said that she would finally get a hold of her powers, Freya was afraid she never would. Maybe the incident in the bathroom was just a one-off fluke...

  “How’s your school work going?” Amber asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

  “Fine,” Freya said, keeping her eyes firmly on her bag of crisps. It wasn’t a lie, she had settled into a routine. It was a routine of reading under the desk, doing the bare minimum to keep teachers off her back, and figuring out what she needed to memorise for her exams after school. But it was still a routine, and it served her well.

  “And the man with the glowing eyes?”

  A chill went down Freya’s spine at the reminder. “I haven’t seen him since you gave me the amulet.”

  Amber nodded. “That’s good. Let me know if that changes.”

  “Don’t worry, I will.”

  Before Amber had the chance to find something else to say, the bell rang.

  Freya groaned, putting her rubbish in the bin before slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

  “Are you coming back after school?”

  Freya shook her head with another groan. “It’s a long day,” she reminded her mentor. “I have two more classes after this, so I’m going to head home right after to pass out. Or, well, I’ll probably just play Civ with Alice until three in the morning...”

  Amber smiled. “Fair enough.”

  Freya hurried out of the room, not wanting to be late for English. Three comments in her planner would mean detention, and they would be given for being late, forgetting homework, or forgetting her PE kit. Given how forgetful and bad at timekeeping she was, she often had two comments and was doing her best to avoid her third. Just as she was right then.

  She arrived with just a few seconds to spare, heading to her usual seat by the window at the back, next to Damon.

  Freya wouldn’t call the relationship between her and Damon a friendship, per se, b
ut it was at least an agreement of sorts. They didn’t really talk all that much in lessons, but they always sat next to each other in the lessons they had, so they didn’t have to sit next to strangers. Not that that was as much of a problem for Damon as it was for Freya. He had actually made friends. And yet, he still always sat next to Freya when they had classes together.

  As usual, as soon as their teacher started talking, Damon brought out his 3DS and played Pokemon. Freya would have also brought out her book, but she’d never had a DS, so watching Damon play was pretty interesting to her. She’d always envied the kids who could play Pokemon...

  Once they were given their work, Freya split her attention evenly. Damon rushed through his before returning to his game. Freya was always astounded at how he blasted through his work so quickly and still got Bs and Cs. Though, she supposed if she gave up her need to get A*s, she could probably do the same.

  By the time the lesson was ending, Freya had finished her work and had returned her full attention to Damon’s game. He was facing a gym leader and was down to his last two Pokemon.

  He leaned forward in concentration, and Freya jumped as she heard a ripping noise. She leaned back to see Damon’s jumper was torn. After another moment, she saw clear glue on the back of his plastic chair, which had obviously stuck his jumper to it.

  She turned to glare at the two boys behind them, who were now laughing.

  Freya’s jaw tightened as she clenched her fists. If she wasn’t in a classroom, she would have decked the boys, despite her noodle arms.

  But before she had the chance, the water bottle in front of the boy behind Damon exploded, the water spurting up into his face.

  Freya couldn’t help but gape at the surprised look on the boy’s face, doing her best not to break into a grin.

  She turned back to see the teacher had obviously noticed what had happened. As far as Freya was concerned, no one could blame her for the water bottle; she was more than happy to grab the teacher’s attention and demand they do something about the boys who had glued Damon to his chair.

  The bell rang at that point, however, and the teacher turned away, clearly uninterested in dealing with the problem if it would run into the next lesson.

  Freya’s fists clenched once more, but Damon caught her attention once more by stuffing his things into his backpack. He hurried off out the room, his jumper still torn and covered in glue.

  “Wait,” she called after him, shoving her own things into her bag before running after him.

  But he wasn’t heading to their next lesson when she ran up to him. He was heading to the loos.

  “Hey,” Freya said, running so she was in front of him. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded but didn’t verbally answer. She could see his eyes were gleaming, and she realised he was trying not to cry.

  Her throat tightened in response, the sensation only intensifying as she realised he had glue in his hair as well.

  “Come on,” Freya said. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  He seemed happy enough to follow her towards the loos. The corridors were now empty as everyone else had already made their way between classes. The threat of late comments certainly made everyone hurry.

  “Alright, in here,” Freya said pointing towards the disabled loo.

  He raised an eyebrow. “What if someone needs it?”

  “It’s last lesson, Damon. When has a teacher ever let someone leave to go to the loo during last lesson?”

  “Fair point. But what if someone sees us leave together? They will assume...” He turned bright red, and Freya’s face flushed in response.

  “No one will be out between classes, so no one will see us,” she reminded him.

  He nodded, following her in.

  “Okay, your hair is glued to your jumper, so I’m going to try and deal with that first,” she told him after she locked the door behind them. “Is that okay?”

  She knew she was projecting her own aversion to touch onto Damon, but it still didn’t hurt to ask, she figured.

  He tensed up a little, but nodded. She let the tap run into her hand, finding she could feel the water in her hand as almost an extension of herself.

  She moved her hand to his hair, wondering if her control over the water would allow it to break down the glue. It must have been stronger than a Pritt Stick for it to tear a jumper...

  As she ran her fingers over his hair, however, she focused on the glue and that seemed to be enough for the water, breaking it down between her fingers.

  After a few moments of working, she felt Damon relax beneath her, and she couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t seem as upset or on edge as he had before. Still, the silence was getting to her, so she decided it was time to try small talk.

  “Why do you have such long hair, anyway?” Freya asked.

  He shrugged slightly, obviously trying not to move too much while she worked. “It is the style back home.”

  “Yeah, where is that exactly?”

  He shrugged once more. “It is a tiny little country. I doubt you will have heard of it.”

  “That doesn’t mean I don’t want to know.”

  “And you probably could not pronounce it.”

  “I can’t pronounce a ton of English, either. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to know.”

  He sighed. “I know, I just do not want to talk about it.”

  “Why not?” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realised how thoughtless they had been. If he didn’t want to talk about it, he didn’t want to talk about it.

  “It does not matter,” he said. “I am more than happy to be here, living with my uncle. That is the important thing.”

  “Of course,” Freya said, her stomach churning as she tried to figure out how to word an apology for prying.

  “Why did you move here?” he asked, before she figured it out.

  Her shoulders tensed, but she forced herself to relax, taking a deep breath. It was only fair since she had asked about him. And she didn’t want to return to silence.

  “I got a new foster family,” she told him.

  “A foster family? What does that mean?”

  “They have agreed to look after me for a little while. I’m an orphan, so I just end up being passed around. And probably will be until I become an adult at this point. No one wants to adopt a teenager.”

  “Oh... I am sorry.”

  She shrugged. “Don’t be. I’m fine.” At that, she realised all the glue was out of his hair. “Alright. Your hair’s fine now. Your jumper, however, is beyond hope.”

  Damon nodded, pulling the jumper off before turning to face her.

  “Do you know the name of the boy who did this?” Freya asked him.

  “Yes. Jordan Franks. Why?”

  She pulled out her phone. “Because I bet he’s one of the idiots who keeps his number on Facebook. Now, how many sales sites do you think we can sign him up for before he throws his phone out of the window?”

  Damon smiled. “It is alright, Freya. I would not want you to end up in trouble.”

  “How? Even if anyone does bother to trace it back to me, which I doubt, I’m a non-hideous, eloquent white girl. I could be standing over a dead body and get away with it as long as I cried enough.” And no one realised I wasn’t neurotypical...

  Damon’s smile widened. “Non-hideous?”

  She turned red at his teasing tone. It had sounded conceited, hadn’t it?

  “Well,” she started, stammering a little, “I mean, I know I’m not pretty pretty, but my features are pretty evenly proportioned, even if they are a bit big...”

  He nodded, his smile not fading. She wished she could tell the emotion behind it.

  “You are definitely non-hideous,” he assured her.

  Her blush deepened. “I- Um, we should... We should go...”

  He nodded. “So, I guess we will get in trouble now.”

  “Oh, I’ll tell Ms Pearson and she’ll clear us for the afternoon.”

  “
Really? Why?”

  Freya shrugged. “She’s just really nice.”

  Damon nodded. “Well, I suppose I’ll head off.”

  “Yeah. I’ll go see Ms Pearson now to sort it all out. See you.”

  “See you,” he called back after her as she scurried off.

  She let out a sigh of relief as she reached Amber’s classroom, finding it empty.

  “Amber?” Freya asked as she entered, seeing her behind her desk.

  “Come in, I’m just marking papers.”

  Freya nodded, closing the door behind her before dropping her backpack to the floor and starting to pace.

  “I used my powers again.”

  Amber looked up from her work, raising an eyebrow. “You did? When?”

  “Well, we were in English, and the boy who sat behind Damon glued him to his chair, and then I made his water bottle explode in his face.”

  Amber frowned a little. “Because you were angry?”

  “Of course I was angry! He was picking on Damon! But isn’t this good? It’s been weeks!”

  Amber nodded, solemnly. “It is good you finally have access to your powers, Freya, but I had hoped we could develop them in a safe environment. And that anger would not be the trigger used.”

  “Why not? It worked, didn’t it?”

  “Yes, but anger is volatile. It is not an easy emotion to control. I had feared it would be the only way you would access your magic, given how much effort you have put into building walls around the rest of your feelings, but I had hoped we could find another way.”

  Freya folded her arms tightly over her chest. “Those walls are necessary.”

  “I’m not saying they haven’t been vital to you, Freya. The problem is that those walls will quickly crumble. Your emotions fuel your powers, Freya. And you’ll generate a higher level of emotion to keep up. Hell, teenagers are over-emotional to start with. Your walls will crumble under this pressure, and you need to make sure your powers don’t spin out of control when they do.”

  “Well, it doesn’t even really matter, because it didn’t just stay at anger,” Freya told her. “At least, I don’t think it did... Damon had glue in his hair and I used my powers to get the water to get it out. I don’t know how, but it was definitely my magic. I could feel the water as if it was a part of me.”