by Melissa Gunn
“Karim!”
“Sorry, sorry. I just couldn’t resist.” Opening the small ointment jar, he dipped two fingers into the golden goo inside, and smoothed it gently onto the raw patches on her calf, holding her leg still with his other hand. She watched his dark hand against her fairer skin. It might have been sensual if it didn’t hurt so much. He repeated the process until all the wounds were covered and glistening.
“Nena said you shouldn’t cover it up. Besides, the ointment is greasy, so it might make marks on your trousers. When you’ve put them on,” he teased. He got to his feet, and offered her a hand - not the grease-covered one. “Shall we get the rest of this onto your mother’s wounds, now?”
Freya gratefully agreed. Taking his proffered hand, she let herself be hoisted to her feet. Sore or not, she was feeling off-balance after having Karim hold her legs. It had felt so intimate, and although they’d gone through a harrowing experience together last night, she’d only met Karim yesterday.
Standing in the door to the lounge, she addressed her mother.
“Mum, this is Karim. You met him last night, remember? He helped get you home. He’s good at potions, and he’s brought one over for your leg. OK?” Her Mum was slumped against the pillows on her couch-bed, but she opened her eyes when Freya started talking.
“Oh yes, Karim. I heard you come in earlier. Thank you for your help last night. May I smell your ointment first, please?”
Freya wondered how much Danae had heard of her conversation on the doorstep with Karim, and her cheeks burned. Small houses were so public! Then, she wondered how her mother would smell anything over the over-done aftershave.
Meanwhile, her mother was sniffing the opened jar that Karim held out for her, nose close.
“Hmm. Oregano, calendula, goldenrod, and... is that yarrow? Good choices. Alright, go ahead and put it on.” Danae had a good nose for herbs. She nodded sharply, uncovering the leg she’d had covered by a thin blanket. Despite Freya’s efforts, the blanket was blood-stained. Karim didn’t make any smart remarks to her mother, fortunately. He simply applied the ointment quickly and efficiently and stood up, wiping his fingers on a small rag he pulled from his pocket.
“My grandmother said you should apply the ointment every day for the first week,” he said. “There’s only enough there for a couple of days treatment for both of you, so I’ll make up more and bring it around tomorrow.”
Karim turned to Freya.
“Aisha’s grounded till Monday, so it will be me bringing the ointment. She said to tell you that she wanted to come, and also that if you need fleas, she’s happy to oblige.” His eyes twinkled as he passed on Aisha’s offer. Freya grinned back.
“I’m sorry she got in trouble,” she said, “and let her know that I’ll be sure to call if fleas are what I need. Or locusts, though I hope there aren’t any trees left to fall on our house.”
She escorted Karim to the door, and impulsively gave him a quick hug, though she didn’t usually do that sort of thing.
“Thanks for helping us last night. We couldn’t have made it without your falafel!”
“Sure, you could – you had a pocket full of apples, didn’t you?”
Freya felt her mouth fall open, and shut it again with a snap.
“I didn’t want to waste more food.”
Don’t let him know you forgot about it...
“I’ll take your thanks and run, then,” Karim laughed. “See you in a day or two.” He walked away, then turned and waved before continuing.
Freya stared after him a moment, then went inside.
“That seems a reasonable young man, apart from the unfortunate application of scent,” commented her Mum from her position on the couch, as Freya closed the door.
“Mum!” Freya protested, not liking her mother’s easy acceptance.
“Well, the balm he brought is soothing,” said her mother in a placating voice. “Look, can you bring me my phone? I want to read if I can’t be gardening. And I don’t think I can be today. I need to be well enough to get back to work on Monday.”
Freya knew this was true - her mother’s income from the glasshouse was the only thing paying the rent. She gathered all the books she could find - a random selection of battered, so-old-even-the-second-hand-shops-wouldn’t-take-them tomes - as well as her mother’s scratched old phone, and put them by Danae’s bed. If her mother was reading, that would give Freya the time she desperately wanted, to think about Tammy’s late-night secrets.
In many ways Tammy’s ‘unfortunate condition’ shouldn’t be a surprise. She was several years older than Freya, and the school-kids taunts had not been so far wrong, in that Tammy really had wanted children. That fertility-goddess focus again. However, while Freya was sure that children would be fine, sometime in the future, she didn’t see the urgency. And she especially couldn’t understand why Tammy would choose to have children with a were. Come to think of it, she didn’t even know which were-fox it was that Tammy had selected. Somehow, Freya was certain that it would have been Tammy choosing, rather than the other way around.
She shook her head, mentally closing off that train of thought. It was clear that Tammy had made her choice, for better or worse. The question was, what should Freya do? She could see the attraction of being settled, but she wouldn’t want to settle here. Too close to the sea, too many weres. And more than that, Freya wanted to see more of the world. She wanted to be better educated than her parents, to have better opportunities, not to be scratching a living along the uncertain coast.
She sighed aloud. There was no quick fix to this problem. She still had to finish this year at school, do well enough to get into university, and then get a degree, and a job. The future stretched out before her, an endlessly long road. She wished she knew all the stops on that road.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
SCHOOL WITH COWED WERES
School was different on Monday. Freya noticed quite a few people missing - all russet-headed. It looked like the were-foxes had kept their older offspring at home today. Without their subtle menace in the background, Freya almost enjoyed school. Aisha was back, and Freya was able to review the weekend’s events with her friend.
“I’m not allowed back to your house yet,” Aisha said. “Since I ‘irresponsibly went off in the night’ from there. Honestly, what will they do next year when I’m an adult and can legally do what I want?”
“It’s just because they care about you,” Freya said. “At least your family want you around.”
Danae had limped off to work that morning, impatiently telling Freya to get to herself to school, and no ‘buts’. Freya had only wanted to help her mother to work, so she didn’t injure herself further, so she was feeling more than a little rebuffed.
“My family want to see more of you, if that helps,” Aisha said. “Karim does, anyway.” She nudged Freya with her elbow. “You’ve made a conquest of my brother already. Better not abandon me for him.”
Freya laughed and blushed at the same time.
“He said he’d come by your place this afternoon with a fresh batch of whatever he and Nena have been concocting. Otherwise, I’d suggest you come over to the station cafe. You wouldn’t believe how strongly our house smells of herbs at the moment. It’s almost unbearable. I’d forgotten how much his potions stink the place up. It’ll be a relief when he heads off to uni. At least I’ll be able to breathe again at home then.”
Freya grinned.
“I thought he was wearing aftershave when he turned up on Saturday. But then the smell lingered all day, so maybe it was the potion after all.”
“Oh, he was wearing aftershave, too. I told you you’ve made a conquest,” Aisha said.
“Don’t be silly, Aisha, no-one ever falls for me. And I hardly know Karim.”
“Yeah. It’s a bit fast, seeing as he only got back on Friday. But you’ll have to work quickly if you want to do something about that. He goes to uni in a few weeks.”
“That’s faster than
ever I’ve worked in my life. And I’m not that sort of girl. It doesn’t seem likely.”
“Just as well, it would be pretty weird if you got together - my friend and my brother, ugh!”
“No fear!” Freya exclaimed, but she wasn’t sure she meant it. She did like Karim. But was it a good idea to try form a relationship with someone who was so clearly going elsewhere? Of course, Karim wasn’t going far away just yet - and he’d be home to see his family in the holidays. But she didn’t want to lose Aisha’s friendship, either.
Freya’s train of thought was interrupted by the school bell. It seemed tame to be going to classes after the weekend’s dramatic events. Maybe tame was an improvement, though. She and Aisha trooped into class together.
Technology was the most interesting subject of the day. The topic of the term was storm shelters, a surprisingly appropriate choice, Freya thought.
“Thank Frigg we’re doing this topic,” she told Aisha. “Better than at my last school. We had weeks of yoghurt flavouring compounds, there.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad. I like yoghurt,” said Aisha.
“It’s OK, I guess, but I’ll never get those weeks of my life back. And I can still taste the acorn-flavoured one when I think about it.”
“Don’t think about it, then, easy.”
“You say that, but every year when I see the green acorns forming on the oak trees it comes back to me.”
“Excuse me, young ladies, I’m trying to tell you about the study break project, if you don’t mind.” The sarcastic voice of the tech teacher broke into their conversation.
“Sorry.” Freya assumed a listening attitude, eyes on the board at the front of the room where the teacher was standing. Aisha sat up straight at the desk beside her, hands poised on her notebook - the model of an attentive student. As the teacher began to speak again, she did a quick sketch of the teacher cowering in front of a giant yoghurt pottle, an acorn decorating its side. She turned the paper towards Freya, who had to smother a snigger. The teacher glared at them, but continued.
“As I was saying, in light of the storm we all experienced a few weeks ago, and the high probability that we will see more storms like it, I’ve decided to launch a competition for the senior class. Your task is to design and create a prototype for an in-place storm shelter, capable of withstanding winds of up to 100 miles per hour -”
“But wind is measured in kilometres per hour,” said one student.
“Or in knots, when you’re in a boat,” said another, whose family owned a fishing boat.
“You can apply your mathematical skills to converting my measurements, then.” The teacher glared at the interjecting students. “Your shelter should also be rainproof, and able to support the weight of say,” he looked directly at Freya, “a large oak tree. There will be a prize for the best design. I expect you to include working drawings, and calculations supporting the design of your project. Now, are there any questions?”
As a babble of voices rose around them, Freya turned to Aisha.
“That was creepy. Why pick on me? And how does he know about the oak tree falling on my house, anyway?”
Aisha shrugged.
“Mr Smith always picks on someone. Maybe he noticed my drawing. Or else he heard about your tree on the news. I guess an oak tree through the roof is a pretty public accident. I wouldn’t worry about it. Anyway, this is a good project, better than making metal lunchboxes or something, like Karim had to do when he came through this class. Although I think he still uses that lunchbox.”
“I guess I don’t need a metal lunchbox. But I don’t know where to start with a storm shelter. Can we work as a team?”
“Sure thing.”
Thank goodness for a friend.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
KARIM MAKES HIS MOVES
That afternoon Karim appeared on the doorstep, freshly groomed as always. As Freya opened her mouth to greet him, he patted his hair into place, not quite satisfied with the way it sat. Freya couldn’t help it - she laughed.
“Finished preening yourself yet?” she teased. Karim pretended not to hear her.
“Nena sent me over with something for your Mum,” he said. Freya quickly sobered.
“Thanks. She’s not home from work yet. But she was limping badly when she left this morning.”
“Nena wanted to invite you and her over to dinner, but Dad’s not happy with all the time I’ve been spending out since I’ve been back. So instead of being polite and agreeing like he’s supposed to, he’s demanding that I eat at home for ‘at least the next three nights’ before he’ll agree to anyone else coming over. Honestly, I think he’s forgotten I’ve been making my own way for the last year.”
Freya shrugged. She wasn’t that keen on her mother invading her social life anyway. Not now she actually seemed to have a social life. It was a novelty she wanted to keep to herself for a while.
“That’s OK. At least you’re here now,” she said.
Karim smiled, an appreciative grin spreading over his face. That had clearly been the right thing to say.
“Come in,” said Freya, leading the way to the kitchen.
“Just for a minute, I’m expected back.”
“I wanted to ask you about your other potions.” Freya was thinking about their still-unpatched roof. Karim was dubious at first.
“I haven’t done much with them yet,” he said.
“Look, I’ll show you, and you can tell me if there’s anything you can do,” said Freya. She led the way up to her room, feeling self-conscious at inviting a male into her private space. Probably she should have tidied up, first.
“I suppose I could come up with something waterproof,” Karim said, gazing up at the tarpaulin in her room. “I guess the real problem is that the wind keeps moving the tarp. You need a builder in. Shouldn’t the landlord organise that?”
“I know, but our landlord is terrible. And we would get a builder in, it’s just the money...” There wasn’t a good solution to that problem.
“Well, I guess I can make you some glue to keep the tarp in place. Temporarily.” Karim seemed a little doubtful, but he brightened up as he thought about it.
“That would be useful on the dig as well,” he considered aloud. “Hmm... tell you what, I’ll come back tomorrow with something, I’ve got some ideas to try. Meanwhile,” he extracted the next jar of wound-healing potion from somewhere in his clothing, magician-like.
“Your healing balm, your majesty.” He knelt before her again, and suggested, eyes twinkling, “Take a seat, so that I may apply it like a gentleman.”
The only seat available up here was her bed. Freya sat on the edge, only to slip off with a thump as her bedclothes - never well ordered - slid off the bed when she shuffled around awkwardly. Freya found herself blushing furiously. Karim laughed as he offered a hand to help her up again. Freya had to laugh too. She supposed it was funny. However, she sat well back on the bed this time, determined not to embarrass herself with clumsiness again.
“Take two?” Karim suggested.
“Er, yes.” She was wearing trousers, as usual. Karim lifted both her legs onto the bed, then gently pushed back the fabric of her trousers on the injured one. Freya could still feel the tingling trail of his fingers on her skin after they had passed.
“Your leg’s looking better today,” he said, sounding pleased. “But you’ve missed a scratch at the back, see?”
“Well, no, I can’t,” countered Freya. “That’s probably why I missed it.”
Karim stroked more ointment onto her leg. It didn’t hurt so much today. Perhaps his ointment was doing some good.
“I can come and put it on you every day if you like,” he suggested, his voice almost a purr. “To make sure all of you heals well.”
Freya couldn’t resist teasing him.
“I hope you don’t make that offer to all your patients.”
Karim made a face.
“I’m into archaeology, not medicine. You’re jus
t lucky I’m working with you.” He had finished smoothing on the ointment, but continued to stroke her leg, sitting on the edge of the bed beside her, but facing her. He leaned forward, his eyes intense. “But I would like to keep working with you a little more, if I may?” Freya nodded. Was he going to kiss her? She felt the blood roaring in her ears. Anxiety or excitement? Maybe a bit of both.
“Freya, are you home?” The sound of her mother’s voice destroyed the moment. Karim scrambled up, putting the lid on his potion jar. Freya leapt off the bed, hastily rearranging the blankets. Not that I’ve done anything illicit, she thought ruefully. Just the usual disorganisation.
“Coming, Mum,” she called back. “Karim and I were just looking at what can be done with the hole in the roof.”
They clumped downstairs, where Karim offered his pot of balm to Freya. 3
“This will be enough for you and your Mum today. I will bring you more tomorrow.” His eyes promised more than balm as he took his farewell.
“Freya,” said Danae. “You’ll have to make dinner tonight. I made it through work, but I’m too sore to move anymore.”
Freya followed her lead into the kitchen, where she spent the next hour following exacting instructions while her mum sat in the chair. She was perfectly capable of preparing dinner herself, but apparently her mother wanted her in sight. They ate silently in the kitchen. Eventually, Freya remembered that she had to put potion on her mother’s leg - only to have her mother brush her off.
“No, I can do that for myself now. Pass me the pot. Good. Thank you for making dinner. Now, we need to review your knowledge of were mating systems before you do your school homework. Since Karim was here when I arrived, I’m guessing you haven’t done your homework yet. Am I right?” Freya grudgingly had to admit that this was indeed correct. What with one thing and another, windspeed calculations hadn’t appealed.
Later, after an intense session of reviewing the different types of weres and their putative mating systems, Freya asked her mum a question that had been bothering her.
