by L. C. Mawson
“Want to dance?” Damon asked her after a moment as she stabbed the top of her drink with a straw.
Freya hid her flustering behind drinking the neon blue liquid for a little while. “You want to dance with me?”
“Well, yeah. It’s a dance.”
Freya looked over to the dance floor. Nothing there could really be classified as “dancing”. Everyone was bouncing up and down in place, moving their arms up and down in the same, repetitive movements. It was boring and simplistic. Movement with no skill.
And yet Damon was extending his hand towards her, as if he was about to sweep her into a dance worthy of the Disney renaissance.
She took his hand cautiously, unsure of what exactly he had planned.
He led her further towards the rest of the dancers as the song changed to something a little more sedate.
“You dance much?” she asked.
He shrugged a little as he moved his hands to her waist. She struggled to keep her pale white skin from turning fire-engine red, reminding herself that it was just a dance. Nothing more.
“My aunt insisted that I learn. Don’t worry, I’ll keep it simple.”
“She insisted that you learn how to dance?”
“She, um...” He looked a little flustered. “I told you that her husband’s position was inherited, right?”
“Yeah.”
“They’re probably not going to have kids. She means for me to take it.”
“You don’t sound too happy about that,” she ventured.
“Freya, I...” he started, his gaze meeting hers with an intensity borne of emotion she couldn’t name.
That bothered her. That she couldn’t figure out what was in her friend’s head.
Before she had an opportunity to try to figure it out, she heard a particularly loud “bitch”. She swung her head around, looking for the source, to see a couple of Jamie’s friends standing to the side of the room, glaring at her.
“I... I’m going to get some air,” she said to Damon, not waiting for his response before hurrying outside.
FREYA WAS THANKFUL for the cold night air cutting through the dizzy feeling that had been making her head swim. She let the filter around her head dissipate to allow sound back through.
After a couple of deep breaths, she found herself coughing in protest at the cigarette smoke infiltrating her lungs.
“Oh sorry,” a familiar voice said next to her, and Freya turned to see Jamie waving her smoke away.
“I... It’s fine,” Freya said, at a bit of a loss. Jamie was definitely looking at her, but it wasn’t with her usual scowl. She was smiling at her. Freya stopped being certain it was Jamie, which wasn’t helped by how different she looked out of her uniform. Her dress was black and simple, showing off the freckles around her collar and shoulders. Her hair had been neatly curled, instead of tied back in the severe ponytail she normally wore, softening her features.
“Enjoying yourself?”
Freya was stumped. The question seemed genuine. She tried to see where the trick would be, but she couldn’t sense one. “I, yeah,” she said. “At least, I was. Until Tina started to... make remarks. Presumably because I was dancing with Damon.”
She watched carefully for Jamie’s reaction, sure that she had put her friends up to it. To her surprise, Jamie simply took a tired drag of her tab.
“I’ll talk to them,” she promised. “That was uncalled for.”
“Said the girl who slapped me yesterday.” The words were out of Freya’s mouth before she could decide if they were actually a good idea.
Jamie’s gaze met hers and Freya couldn’t help but blush a little.
“I’m sorry for that,” Jamie said, and Freya could detect no dishonesty from her. “You were right, it was childish of me.”
“Well, yeah, I guess, but... I don’t know. I expected you to be even angrier after Damon brought me as his date.”
Jamie shrugged. “Damon was never as into me as I was him. I mean, it hurts, but taking it out on you wouldn’t make anything better.”
“But you’ve been doing that since day one!” Some part of Freya’s mind knew that she should just accept the good change, but accepting change was never really her thing. Especially when it didn’t make sense. “Damon told you that he didn’t care about me like that, and you are the only person who didn’t believe him. None of his other girlfriends gave me the same problems you did. We just ignored each other.”
Jamie gave a disbelieving snort. “That’s because none of his other girlfriends saw you as a threat. They’re so invested in the high school hierarchy that they were convinced that Damon could never care about you, simply because they were above you in the system.”
Freya frowned. “You’re saying that you were mean to me because you didn’t think I was completely worthless?”
“I saw why Damon would care about you. Freya, the way he talks about you... I should have left. I shouldn’t have let him make me feel second best. But, instead of doing that, I took it out on you...”
“What caused this sudden revelation?”
“I... I don’t know, in all honesty. I just... It hit me how childish I was being. How I needed to grow up.”
“Well... that’s good then.” Freya didn’t know what else to say. She had never expected in a million years that Jamie would ever admit that she was at fault. At best, she had hoped that she would get over Damon and just start ignoring her. An apology had never even entered her mind as a possibility.
“I guess I was never that kind to you either,” Freya ventured. She, in all honesty, couldn’t remember how she had first met Jamie. Maybe she had been the one to be cold first. She never would have been mean to her, but she had to recognise that her jealousy might have shown.
“Yeah, but you’re cold to everyone. Five minutes of paying even the slightest bit of attention to you told me that,” Jamie said, dismissing Freya’s apology.
Freya’s stomach flipped with anxiety as her mouth answered, “Well, you know, side-effect of being an Aspie.” She never told anyone that, apart from Damon, but her mouth just seemed to have a mind of its own that night.
“Oh. Crap. Well, now I feel like a complete bitch.”
Freya shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”
Jamie gave her a grateful smile. “I don’t know what kind of person would have still been nice to me after the stunts I pulled. I’m just glad that you’re not holding it against me now.”
Freya shrugged. “I have enough enemies without going out of my way to hold grudges.”
Jamie smirked. “A sensible attitude.”
“I thought so.”
“Hey,” came another voice as Damon joined them. “You were gone a while. I... I wondered where you were.”
“I was just talking with Jamie,” Freya told him.
Jamie nodded, putting out her butt with the heel of her boot before heading inside. “We were just clearing the air.”
After Jamie had left, Damon turned to Freya. “What was that about?”
Freya shrugged. “Who knows?”
AFTER A FEW HOURS, Freya started to get a headache. She wasn’t sure if it was caused by her having to concentrate to maintain her noise filter, or if it was the fact that the filter had started to phase in and out as she got tired, letting through the ear-splitting noise. Either way, she needed a respite.
“Want to get some air?” she asked Damon as he returned from talking with some of his other friends.
“Yeah, sure.”
As soon as they were outside, Damon lit up a cigarette and Freya had to wonder how many people her age actually smoked anymore. She knew that Margaret did, though she tried to hide it by smoking out the back door. But she maintained that it had been different when she was young. Everyone had smoked. Freya didn’t seem to notice too many others at school trying to light up at break time, so she supposed that Damon’s friend group were the outliers.
“You know, before, when you were talking about your aunt,” F
reya started, trying not to feel sheepish. But she really wanted to find out what was bothering her friend. “You seemed... I don’t know. Upset?”
Damon sighed, shrugging. “I just... I don’t like my future already being picked out for me. I want to choose it for myself.”
“Have you told your aunt?”
“My uncle has. He’s kind of mad at her over the whole thing.”
“And she hasn’t listened?”
Damon shook his head. “My aunt is in charge of the family. In the end, my uncle can do no more than talk to her.”
Freya wasn’t sure what to say to that. She didn’t really understand the dynamics of Damon’s family. He’d tried to explain, but it just never added up.
She watched as a taxi pulled up, deciding to change the subject. “Looks like people are getting ready to go home already.”
“Or maybe they decided to take the party somewhere better. And with booze.”
“That sounds like the right idea, to be honest.”
“Well, we can probably round up some of the others and head into town. I know a place that doesn’t card.”
Freya shook her head with a reluctant groan. “Margaret would actually kill me if she found out.”
“So she won’t find out.”
Freya knew that she could always magic her way out of any trouble, but being stuck in an unfamiliar part of town at night with Damon’s friends, none of whom were particularly fond of her, sounded like hell.
“I don’t want to risk it.”
He sighed. “This is why the others aren’t fond of you, you know. They think you’re judging them.”
“I don’t care what other people do, Damon. I just... If I mess up, I get sent away. That’s not something I can risk.”
“It’s been ages,” he ventured. “Do you really think they’d send you away?”
Before Freya could answer, a girl came hurrying out of the school, towards the waiting taxi. She stumbled on the stairs, cursing under her breath as she lifted her long skirt up and out of the way, but she kept rushing forward, leaving behind a silver shoe.
She didn’t seem to notice, however, as the taxi quickly pulled away.
“Wonder what was up with her,” Damon said as Freya wondered if they should take the shoe inside to a teacher.
A boy came running out, frantically looking around.
“Hey, did a blonde girl in a long blue dress come out here?” he asked.
Freya nodded. “Yeah. She got in a taxi and left.”
The boy groaned, shaking his head. “I can’t believe it. I didn’t even get her name...”
“She left a shoe,” Damon told him, indicating to the floor. “Maybe if you post on Facebook that you found it, people will share it and she’ll see.”
“Yeah,” he said, picking up the shoe. “I will, thanks.”
“That was... odd,” Freya said as the boy went back inside. “Do you think he’ll find her?”
“Of course he will. Cinderella always has a happy ending.”
Freya stared at him blankly as she realised that the events were eerily similar to the tale. “Well, I mean, I guess it depends on your definition of ‘happy’ and which version of the tale you’re talking about.”
“Oh. I was talking about the movie one. The one with the guy from Game of Thrones.”
Freya rolled her eyes. “Which is based on an animated movie, which is based on a version of the original fairy tale. Not all of them were the same. The film versions are usually sanitised from the older stories. Less murder and rape.”
“So, less Game of Thrones?”
“Exactly.”
“Let me guess, you prefer the originals?”
Freya shrugged. “They’re more interesting.”
“Yeah, okay, sure.”
Freya smirked as he finished his tab.
“Alright, are you sure you don’t want to get everyone together and go out?”
“I’ve only got an hour left until Margaret wants me home,” Freya pointed out.
“Okay then. More of the terrible school dance it is.”
FREYA ARRIVED HOME exhausted. She’d spent all night filtering out noise while also trying to concentrate on not going over on her ankle.
“Did you have a good time?” Margaret asked her as she entered the room. She was loading up the dishwasher.
“Yeah,” Freya answered, and it wasn’t exactly a lie. It had been nice. Not exactly the time of her life or anything. But it had been worth going out. Just barely, but it had been worth it.
“Good. Want anything to eat or anything?”
“No, I ate there.”
“Alright, then I’m going to head off to bed. Night.”
“Night.”
Freya headed upstairs to room and found Amber waiting for her in her ghost form.
“Have a nice night?” she asked.
“It was alright,” Freya told her as she pulled a nightie on over the top if her dress, before shimmying the dress down underneath. “Could have done without the death-trap heels...”
Amber smirked. “Be thankful you haven’t had to live through some of the fashions I have.”
“I honestly don’t know how you managed. I just kept thinking what if I get attacked? You know? I would have probably had to yank them off and try to use them to take an eye out.”
Amber didn’t smile at her joke. She instead frowned, folding her arms.
“What?” Freya asked as she untied her hair.
“I just... I worry.”
“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”
Amber glared at her for the comment before continuing. “But don’t you think that you might be...”
Freya frowned. Her guardian wasn’t usually lost for words.
“I don’t want you being part of the magical community to rob you of a normal childhood,” Amber eventually admitted.
Freya just gave a dismissive shrug. “Amber, I’m sixteen. I’ve haven’t exactly got much childhood left to lose.”
Amber didn’t reply to that, though Freya felt that it was more out of a feeling that she couldn’t understand what she was trying to say than agreement.
“Amber, I’m not Human,” Freya eventually said. “I never have been. You can’t shield me from that fact. And not knowing... Not knowing was the worst. Not having a reason for why I was different, but just knowing that I was... By now, it probably would have killed me.”
Amber nodded, her arms still folded tightly around her chest. “I guess I never considered that. I always knew. My mother was Human and she didn’t want me involved in that life but... I think she understood that there was never a choice for me.”
“Do you wish you could have been Human?” Freya asked. She supposed that she always knew that her guardian had coveted a normal life, but she had never asked her about it outright.
“Yes,” Amber said without hesitation. “I wish that I had been Human, and that my husband had been, and that our son had been. They deserved better.”
“I’m not going to die,” Freya told her as she settled into bed. She knew that that was what Amber had to be referring to. That her husband and son had both died through magical entanglements. “You’ve trained me well. I can take care of myself.”
“So could they,” Amber said simply before disappearing.
Freya let out a groan. She didn’t know how to help Amber. She was clearly upset and clinging to things that had happened decades in the past, but Freya didn’t know how to help with that. Or even if she should. Maybe Amber just needed space or something.
Freya frowned, burying her head into her pillow. She needed sleep. Everything else could wait until morning.
Chapter Four
Freya awoke alone in the castle. She wasn’t exactly surprised - Ku and Juni often left with nothing more than cryptic explanations - but she had hoped they would be there. She felt off. Wrong.
Was something messing with her on Earth? Affecting her connection to this realm?
He
r thoughts were cut off by the sound of footsteps elsewhere in the castle.
She jumped to her feet silently, grabbing her knives. No one should be in the castle. Juni and Ku had lived there since it had been abandoned and Freya had been the only one to ever find it. Most considered it haunted, but Freya had always been glad for the ghosts.
“Who dares to trespass here?” she bellowed, relying on the echo of the halls to surprise the stranger.
He spun around, revealing a young man, possibly her age, though she didn’t hesitate in tackling him to the ground.
She pressed one knife to his throat and the other to his groin as she pinned him, raising an eyebrow to dare him to move.
That was when she recognised him. Both from this realm and Earth.
“Damon?” she asked, before remembering that she’d never gotten a name here. “The boy from the manor, right?”
He gave her a confused look. “You... know my name?”
She shrugged, sitting up as she moved the knives away from him. She doubted he was a threat to her. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“I... You seemed surprised to find me. When you broke in, I mean. To kill my father.”
Freya narrowed her eyes. “Please tell me you’re not here for vengeance. Not after I found you hooked up to that... contraption.”
He shook his head. “No, no. I... I’m here to thank you, actually. After the trouble you caused, my aunt and uncle actually found out that I existed. I’m training to be a knight.”
She rolled her eyes. Knights were the only ones stupid enough to try to reclaim the castle. “Is that why you’re here? The spirits who live here aren’t going to give up their home. If you couldn’t even fight me off, they’re going to decimate you.”
“No, I’m not here for that,” he told her quickly. “I was actually looking for you.”
“For me?”
“I wanted to thank you.”
She shrugged. “It was just a coincidence. Getting you out, I mean. I was just there for the bounty.”
“I know. I know that for you it was just an odd, inconsequential incident. But you saved me. Thanks to you, I went from a test subject to a knight in training, and I don’t even know your name.”