by Chrys Cymri
‘I’m certain his kitchen can’t be in worse shape than mine,’ I muttered to Morey.
The gryphon flicked his ears. ‘Were-bears might have a greater need for privacy than humans. Or maybe he has something in there he doesn’t want you to see.’
‘What, like a were equivalent of a pin up calendar?’
‘Or the remains of his last human kill.’
My mouth dried. ‘Polar bears hunt humans on Earth.’
‘Isn’t it more the other way around?’ Then Morey laughed at me. ‘Relax, Black. No bear would take on a dragon, and Tyra would have his guts for garters if he ate you before we found Raven.’
Then we suddenly realised that Auiak was at the top of the stairs. I felt my face flush as I wondered how much of our conversation he had heard. His dark eyes met mine. ‘Don’t eat humans,’ he told me gruffly.
‘You don’t eat intelligent beings,’ I said with a nod.
‘Not that. I only eat organic meat.’
I nearly found myself telling him that I always bought organic fruit and veg. ‘That’s very wise. No telling what sort of nasty chemicals are in the average human body. It’s so much better for you to stick to organic. And the oceans of the Arctic are very pure, aren’t they?’
The bear gave me a curious look. ‘In your cabin. Clothes for you.’ Then he brushed past to return to his piloting duties.
Chapter Eight
The cabins were accessed down another set of steps. I visited the toilet, which was reassuringly human compatible. There was a small hand basin and, much to my surprise, a bar of soap and a very flowery towel. No sign of a shower, but I hadn’t really expected to find one.
The cabin was smaller than I’d expected. A bunk bed, which meant at least I shouldn’t have to share a mattress with Morey. Although the space was large enough to swing a gryphon, I couldn’t see Auiak finding it comfortable. Perhaps his own cabin was much larger.
Something dark green shimmered against the grey blankets on the bottom bunk. Were these the clothes Auiak had mentioned? I leaned down to pick it up.
Warmth spread through my hands. I stared in amazement at the thin trousers. The material was no thicker than a cotton t-shirt, yet just holding it was warming my fingers. I turned it over, and my stomach twisted. Most of the scales were missing, but there was enough to reveal that I was holding tanned skin.
Wings beat past my ear, and Morey landed on the top bunk. ‘Mer tail,’ he said, voice soft in wonder.
My fingers convulsed, tightening their grip. ‘This is from a dead merperson?’
‘Not a dead one.’ Morey took a sniff. ‘Sometimes merpeople shed their tails so they can have legs.’
‘Because they fall in love with a human?’
Morey snorted. ‘Romantic nonsense. No, usually it’s if a merperson has offended the shoal. They seek refuge on land. It’s the only place they can’t be tracked down and punished.’
‘Won’t the merperson want this back one day?’
‘No. Once they’ve shed their tail, it’s irrevocable. They can never return to the sea again.’
‘Since when?’ I asked. ‘I mean, in The Little Mermaid--’
‘Now, Black, are you really going to believe a Disney movie over a resident of Lloegyr?’
‘So the merperson is exiled forever.’ I turned the trousers around to admire the expert stitching along the inside of the legs. ‘It’s so warm.’
‘How else do you think merpeople can survive in cold oceans? Have you ever seen a fat one? They don’t do blubber.’
‘I’ve not met many merpeople.’ Warmth was now spreading up my arms. ‘If I put this on, will I be turned into a mermaid?’
‘No, it doesn’t work that way.’ Morey sighed. ‘Although, if the merperson is dead, something of their essence travels to their tail. The skin then gives the wearer the ability to breathe under water.’
‘How come you know so much about them?’
‘Taryn had to help one out of a spot of bother last year.’ Morey hopped down to the lower bunk. ‘We need to talk about the wedding.’
I took a seat next to him, ducking slightly to avoid hitting my head on the top bunk. ‘So, you’re going to accept her proposal?’
‘It’s not that simple.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I have to prove my worth to my clan. Only then will they recommend me to her clan as a suitable marriage partner.’
‘How do you prove yourself? Do you have to outdrink a pub full of harpies? Or win Mastermind?’
‘There will be a series of challenges. Taryn will also have to face three from her own clan.’
‘You’ll both do fine,’ I assured him.
‘I need to have a grŵp rhyfelwyr with me,’ he said. ‘Companions who will help me in my quest to prove my courage.’
I stared down at him. ‘That’s not the word for hunter. Remember, my Welsh is getting quite good these days.’
‘These are usually drawn from the groom’s closest friends,’ Morey continued. ‘That will mean you.’
‘Flattered,’ I acknowledged. ‘Of course, I’ll help any way I can.’
‘The challenges will be spread out over a month or so. But it might mean being away from your parish for several days at a time.’
Somehow, I managed to hold back a cheer. ‘I’ll work it out, Morey. Rosie is always happy to fill in.’
He dipped his head in a nod. ‘I just hope...’
‘Hope what?’
Morey extended his wings. ‘See you back upstairs.’ And he left the cabin.
After the gryphon had gone, I closed the door and removed my trousers. The merskin slipped on easily, and seemed to mould itself to my body. I had a moment’s panic, wondering whether it would come off again. How would I go to the loo? But the material peeled off when I tugged at the waist. As I folded the material away, I wondered how merpeople relieved themselves. Surely they didn’t have to peel off their tail skin every time? Then I decided I had more important things to worry about. Like why Morey had used a word which I was certain meant ‘warrior.’
<><><><><><>
The boat pulled near shore and dropped anchor as the sun set. I stood on the deck and marvelled at how the sky slid from light blue to pink. The fur coat rested on my shoulders, and the merskin trousers kept my legs and feet warm. Although I still had many questions about how I was to find Raven, at least I was longer worried about losing a limb to frostbite in the process.
Auiak finished his work, shifted into bear shape, and glanced over at me. ‘Supper soon.’
‘That’d be great.’ I licked my lips. ‘Any wine? Beer? Rum?’
‘Don’t drink.’ One of his large paws slapped the gunwale in emphasis. ‘Bad for liver.’
‘The liver is evil and must be punished,’ I muttered. Next time I came to Lloegyr, I would carry a hip flask.
Morey was curled up on the table when I climbed back down into the lounge. ‘It’s a very interesting map,’ he told me. ‘Looks like marks indicate where the best hunting is to be found.’
‘Trust you to work that out.’
His tail lashed from side to side. ‘Someone’s in a mood.’
‘What do you expect? I’m going to be wandering the Arctic wastes with a hunting map in search of a suicidal dragon.’
‘And there’s no alcohol on board.’
I studied him. ‘You know that how?’
‘Why else would you be in such a bad mood? At least dinner is on its way.’
‘How?’ I slid onto the bench. ‘Auiak is still outside.’
‘He probably has an oven in his galley,’ Morey said. ‘Red meat, and if I’m not mistaken, some form of potatoes.’
The bear came inside, walked through the lounge and down the far stairs. I fought against the instinct to offer assistance. So I leaned towards the table. ‘Tell me more about this map.’
Night had drawn in when Auiak climbed up to the lounge. I had found light switches, and the huge bulbs cast a yellow gleam over the were’s human body. A pl
ate of well cooked meat was placed in front of me. He slid a smaller plate of raw steak towards Morey, and took a seat at the far end with his own serving.
Much to my surprise, a knife and fork rested underneath the meat. I slid them free, and cut off a slice. The steak was a bit tough, but edible. I scooped some mashed potatoes onto the next slice.
‘Not fresh,’ Auiak apologised to Morey. ‘Hunted last week, kept frozen since.’
‘It’s thawed out nicely,’ Morey said enthusiastically. ‘Could I have some of that potato, Penny?’
I scraped mash onto his plate. His head cocked, and I reluctantly added more. His beak disappeared into the creamy mixture and he gulped it down eagerly. Then he went back to his steak. I tackled my own. It wasn’t the best beef I’d ever eaten, but it was warm and filling.
Auiak shifted to bear form and tore through his dinner. Watching his large teeth in action made me pray that I would never find myself on a polar bear’s menu. I concentrated on my own dinner, finishing up the steak and the few bits of potato which Morey didn’t take for himself.
When we had all finished, our host gathered up the plates and took them away. Morey sat back, his tongue cleaning the last bits of potato from his beak. ‘Very good. I haven’t had minke for years.’
My mother’s strict training holds firm even when I’m shocked. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Minke. Whale.’ He burped contentedly. ‘A young one, I believe. Good, wasn’t it?’
‘Whales shouldn't be eaten,’ I said, appalled.
‘Why not?’
‘Most human governments have outlawed the hunting of whales. They’re intelligent creatures.’
‘So are pigs,’ Morey pointed out. ‘And you eat bacon sandwiches.’
‘But that’s different.’
‘How?’
‘Whales are much more intelligent than pigs.’
Morey cocked his head. ‘I should think both feel pain when they die, whether that’s from being harpooned or in a slaughterhouse.’
‘I just feel like I’m sliding down some ethical slope,’ I complained. ‘Wearing fur, eating whale--do you think there’s some mark of Cain on my forehead? If I meet someone from PETA or Greenpeace, will they know? And that’s not funny, Morey.’
‘I’m not laughing at you,’ he protested, his tail straightening a moment too late.
‘I’ve known you for nine months, now. I know what that curl in your tail means.’
‘Relax.’ He added a purr at the end of the word. ‘Go find a vegan when we return to Earth and make your confession.’
His sarcasm did little to soothe the ache in my forehead. I decided to head down to the cabin area to splash some water on my face. And to try not to feel that I was acting like Pontius Pilate.
The thump onto my stomach was as unwelcome as my dreams had been. ‘Wakey, wakey!’ Morey told me. ‘It’s the dawn of a brand new day!’
I groaned. ‘It’s okay for you. You snore. Does Taryn know?’
‘I certainly do not snore.’ His weight shifted as he walked down to my feet. ‘And Taryn wouldn’t know anyway. We won’t sleep together until we’re married.’
‘Aren’t you the gentleman.’ A sharp beak nipped at my foot and I yelped. ‘All right, all right, I’ll get up.’
‘Watch your head.’
Morey’s warning came just in time. I sat up gingerly, and opened my eyes. Grey light came through the small porthole. My blankets were twisted, proof of my restless night. ‘If you weren’t the one who snored, then who was it?’
‘There is a were-bear on board,’ Morey reminded me. ‘Probably him.’
I shook my head. ‘I heard him come down the stairs long after we’d gone to bed.’
‘Sort it out later.’ Morey lifted his head and gave a sniff. ‘Breakfast is almost ready. I think I smell intelligent pig.’
For a moment I simply glared at him. Then I thrust both legs sideways. Morey squawked as he was thrown off the bunk. He landed in ruffled annoyance on the wooden floor. ‘Very funny, Black.’
I opened the door to let him fly out of the cabin. We might be steering past icebergs in the Arctic, but Auiak’s boat was very warm. I’d been able to sleep in my t-shirt and underwear. As I pulled on more layers, including the merskin trousers, I wondered whether a boat like this could have been built in Lloegyr. Had it been brought across from Earth? Or perhaps strayed through a thin place? How did water based thin spaces work?
The smell of cooked eggs wafted down the stairs. I hurried up to the lounge. Morey usually turned up his beak to cooked meat, but he was obviously making an exception when it came to bacon. I slid onto a bench and leaned over to tackle the mound on a second plate. The eggs were scrambled and delicious, although a darker shade of orange than I was used to. A moment later, Auiak appeared with a rack of toast.
‘Is there any coffee?’ I asked awkwardly. It seemed ungrateful for me to want anything more when he’d obviously gone to a lot of bother to cook a proper breakfast. But I knew from bitter experience that I’d have a headache if I went without my normal caffeine intake.
‘Coming.’
The liquid which emerged from the galley was dark and thick. I drank carefully. As I’d expected, the grounds rested on the bottom of the mug. Morey slurped from his own cup between snatches at my portion of egg.
Auiak slid onto the bench opposite mine. ‘Arrival before lunch,’ he told us. A long black claw tapped at the map which rested under the plates.
‘Arrival where?’ I asked. I could see the snow-covered landscape outside, and it did not look enticing.
‘Where you leave.’ The bear pulled the map free, ignoring the clatter of crockery. ‘Here. Up the fjord. Dragon up there.’
I studied the line his claw had drawn. Auiak was taking us as far as water would permit, but there still seemed to be quite a bit of land to cover. ‘How far is that?’
He shrugged. ‘Eight miles?’
‘Eight miles?’
‘An hour’s run.’
‘For a polar bear, maybe,’ I muttered. Once again I regretted not using my local gym more often. ‘Unless, Morey, if you flew on ahead?’
‘If Raven’s alive, he has no reason to speak to me,’ Morey pointed out. ‘In fact, he’d probably take off as soon as he saw me. And we’d have to start this all over again.’
‘Huts here and here.’ Auiak pointed at small blue marks on the dull hide. ‘Fully stocked, last I looked. Stay there night time.’
‘Fully stocked?’ I repeated. ‘By whom? Who else comes here?’
Auiak shifted to human form to roll up the map and hand it to me. A whiff of soap floated past my nostrils, and I stared at his clean chin, wondering why he shaved when he was a man. ‘Lunch before you go.’
He lurched from his seat and cleared our plates. I curled my hands around my still warm mug as he went outside to ready the boat for departure. ‘Is this really a good idea, Morey?’
‘It never was.’ Then he looked up to meet my eyes. ‘Why the sudden doubt?’
‘It looks really cold out there.’
‘You have the merskin trousers,’ Morey said, ‘and a fur coat. Plus me. And if it gets really dicey, you could always pull out your knife and open the blade. I’m certain Raven would still come to you.’
I coughed. ‘I can’t. I don’t have the knife with me.’
‘Why not?’
‘Tyra swallowed it. The knife’s somewhere in her guts.’
Morey stared at me for a moment. Then he fluffed out his feathers. ‘Then I’d have to fly back to fetch Auiak. I’d convince him to carry you back to the boat.’
‘Thanks, Morey,’ I said gratefully.
‘We’re partners, aren’t we?’ he reminded me. ‘We’re here for each other. But you might want to go easy on the coffee. I wouldn’t count on these huts having a toilet.’
Great. This was just getting grimmer and grimmer.
<><><><><><>
Lunch was a generous helping of fish and yet mo
re potatoes. I forced it down, although I wasn’t particularly hungry. Auiak had tied the boat up to a small pier, and I could see the white landscape stretching out ahead of us. The pair of showshoes resting by the bench didn’t give me much reassurance. I’d only tried winter walking a few times in my life, and my leg muscles remembered well how tiring it was.
Raven, I thought at him, you’d better be alive when I find you. Otherwise, I’m going to be very annoyed.
The temperature, when I climbed outside, was warmer than I’d feared. There was no wind, which helped. The covering of grey cloud meant I could go without sunglasses. I shrugged the backpack on over my fur coat, and slipped on a hat and gloves. Auiak handed me the snowshoes. ‘Will wait five days.’
‘Only five?’ I asked.
‘If we’re not back then,’ Morey said, ‘either we’ve found Raven and he’s given us a lift home, or we’re dead.’
‘Sorry if we die out there,’ I told Auiak. ‘I know you want my coat.’
The bear lifted shoulders in a very human shrug. ‘Sad loss.’
I couldn’t tell if he were referring to our deaths or to the fur. Then I headed towards shore. At the point where the snow joined the tidal line, I removed my gloves to fasten the straps of the snowshoes to my boots. With one last look at the tempting safety of the boat, I started up the slope.
<><><><><><>
It was not a journey I’d ever want to repeat. The initial climb brought us to a valley, which meant at least somewhat level walking. But the effort of breaking through snow meant that I was sweating underneath my layers. Morey took off from my shoulder every half hour or so, flying overhead to compare our map with the landmarks he could see from above. A compass helped when notations such as ‘rock shaped like a selkie’ left us staring at snow covered mounds in puzzlement.
‘Not much further now,’ Morey said, hovering by my face. ‘I can see the hut up ahead.’
I put up an arm for him to land. ‘Just as well. The sun’s beginning to set.’
‘It’s very mild, but best to get inside before nightfall.’
