Yvette looked at Jason, who shrugged lightly and smiled. Yvette giggled. “No, that was Jason. He gave me some of his air, before I had to surface. I swim often under water for long periods. I am used to it, three and a half minutes, swimming slowly all the time.”
John said, his surprise apparent, “And I thought you were kissing. What about you, Jason, what’s your trick, Yoga, autogenic training?”
Jason answered, “You guessed it, an old fakir trick. Mind over matter, fifteen minutes is my maximum.”
Ingrid stood up. “Time to go back before somebody misses us.”
Jason kicked loose earth over the embers and stamped it down. They made their way across the darkened field, stumbling in the half-light.
Yvette almost stepped into a deep dark hole, squealing as Jason pulled her back in time. She held on to his arm pulling him close to her. “Thank you, Jason. That was too close for comfort.”
“Don’t mention it,” he said, enjoying her nearness.
They went their separate ways inside the school building. John called out as they reached the stairs, “Jason, have you a moment, please.”
He stopped and turned to face him. “It’s about the river isn’t it?”
John regarded him, his eyebrows pushing towards his hairline. “How did you guess?”
He shrugged. “That’s it, I just guessed, and don’t worry, your business does not concern me.”
John came nearer; it was obvious he wanted to tell him something, so Jason waited. “When I was small, I was with my parents, we were sailing on a river in a small boat when a gust of wind capsized us, my parents drowned, but a fisherman pulled me out, that is why I don’t swim.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
His body tensed as he said, “There is something else.”
“Tell me then.”
“What do you think of Yvette?”
What should I think, I like girls, I like everyone, He shrugged. “She is polite and likes to have fun.”
“Do you, er, like her?”
“Yes, I like you too, and Ingrid.” He caught John’s look and added, “But, not in a special way, more like a sister. I never had a sister, so I suppose that is how I see her.”
John’s whole body relaxed and he said, “Good. Well, I’ll be off to bed, see you in the morning, Jason, good night.”
“Good night, John,” he replied and watched him as he walked away. There was something about him that he couldn’t fathom. He wasn’t what he thought a human would be. He had acted strangely as Yvette moved away from him at the campfire and sat closer to Jason, and Jason could sense his anger at her actions, but he showed nothing but complacency.
He wondered about his own feelings towards the three, Yvette especially. He had lied to John when he spoke of Yvette, he felt strongly protective of her in a brotherly way. He felt at ease in her company, but there was something else that he could not place. He changed into his pyjamas, and as he lay there in bed it occurred to him that Yvette had purposely walked away from him as they approached the hole on their way back from the river, and she had sprung to one side as soon as he had touched her, and another thing, she had worn a pleasant smelling deodorant, sandalwood he guessed, mixing with the candle smoke as they met at the college doorway, but her raw body odour, after they left the river and climbed the tree the second time, reminded him of something from his recent past, something he couldn’t pin down. Then Jennifer’s visage clouded his thoughts, and he heard her laughter echoing in his mind and her voice calling him. “Jason, Jason my love, where are you?” And he drifted off to sleep.
He dreamed of her that night. She sat on the jetty, brushing her hair with a silver brush as her friends pranced around on the shore and then ran, laughing and shouting through the shallows past them, purposefully splashing Jason, causing Jennifer to laugh. She stood up, her hair a shimmering gown and she held out her arms to him and her smile faded as she said looking through him. “Why did you have to go away, where are you now, can you hear me, Jason, my love, I’m so lonely without you.”
Then she disappeared and Lucas stood there in her place, dressed in black, pointing a finger at him saying over and over, “You cannot marry an elf, you cannot marry an elf, you cannot – you cannot - you...”
His voice faded into the distance and he saw an image of Jennifer’s saddened features and he heard himself saying, “One day I will return for you, one day…”
Chapter six.
Five years on.
That same year, the earth suffered a great drought after the hot summer and a total lack of rain everywhere. The river by the school dried up, and by the end of autumn water became so scarce that it had to be rationed.
Then the winter turned harsh, with temperatures dropping at night to minus 40 degrees Celsius, and as if in recompense for the bitter drought, there came the snow, falling continuously on the land in winter - hardly thawing under the grey summer sky - turning everything a ghostly white without the sun to enhance its beauty.
The years passed quickly and a strong bond of friendship formed between Jason, Yvette, Ingrid and John.
Jason did well in his studies as he did in sport. He was no longer a well-built five feet eight inches, he was now six feet two, well-muscled and still growing and he still wore his hair down to his shoulders.
When running or swimming in local sporting events, he always remembered to win by centimetres.
He chose the javelin as his field sport and excelled, and wherever he went outside school hours, the other three went with him.
Winter sports.
“Ready, steady, go!” shouted Mr. Wednesday then blew his whistle unnecessarily as Jason, John, Ingrid and Yvette ran the twelve metres to their sleds that were waiting a few metres from the edge of the new toboggan run, designed by Yvette. Jason kept pace with the others as Yvette ran on and arrived there first. She grabbed her sled in two hands and instead of sliding it to the edge she picked it up and holding it before her; she leaped off the edge, head first.
Several of the younger pupils, who had come along to watch, along with the rest of the school, peered over the edge from the side, and one of them said, “Wow, Yvette’s sky-diving on a sled, super!”
They and others watched as she fell in free fall over two hundred metres before hitting the hard-packed snow with a body-jarring thud that made even Jason wince. Then all three sighed in unison as her sled, with her still clinging to it, carried on in a straight line.
John shook his head, he looked at Jason and Ingrid and said, “Are we going to let her get away with that?” His eyes popped open, despite the cold, as Jason followed suit, leaping outwards, imitating Yvette’s reckless leap.
The wind whistled past his ears, he took a deep breath and tensed himself the instant before his sled crashed into his chest, winding him as the runners hit the slope. He careered on downwards and braked-steered with his left boot as he came to the first long curve that straightened out and dropped several feet.
To his surprise, the ground rose up unexpectedly and he flew another fifty metres through the air from the crest of a small rise - almost losing his grip - before crashing down once more. He negotiated the next two bends with ease then rolled up the slope to a stop in front of Yvette who was laughing hysterically. He approached her and said, “What!”
She paused and pointed behind him and he turned and saw Ingrid and John, visible from where they stood, as their sleds left the top of the rise, one after the other and flew a good thirty metres through the air, both with a shocked expression distorting their features, as their cries of alarm sounded shrilly in the cold air.
Yvette burst out laughing once more, holding her sides. Jason turned, grinning, as the others slid to a stop. John asked, panting lightly, “What’s the matter with her?”
Yvette quietened down eventually and said to the three, “Your faces after you hit that bump. Jason almost fell off.”
Jason smiled, and looked at Ingrid who was pressing her legs toge
ther, “Well I wasn’t expecting anything like that,” he said, and then he turned to Yvette. “You knew about that last rise didn’t you?”
Yvette nodded, her hands clasped over her mouth.
John said, “Of course she did, she designed the whole run.”
Ingrid said sharply, “So that’s why you were looking so smug at breakfast, you mean person, you. Now I have to change my knickers,” She added, “I have a weak bladder if you must know, and it is rather cold today.”
Jason looked up at the cloudless sky and said, “Come on, let’s take the ski-lift.”
Yvette took the rope attached to her sled and followed them along the path. She watched Jason as he walked off in front of her. She wondered if she should tell him, she longed to do so. She felt so alone even knowing what she knew.
She recalled the telephone message over five years ago and she wondered which one of the others it was. She thought of Ingrid, she swam well and her odour was human, but she had heard that a transformation to human shape could change quite a lot of things.
Then she thought of John. She felt sorry for him somehow, his memory for facts was impressive, but he was hopeless at crossword puzzles and he was so nice to her, bringing her presents, tiny figures folded into animals or birds, ‘It’s Origami,’ he’d told her, ‘Japanese paper-folding, I learned it from a library book. Should I show it to you?’
She had agreed in order to please him, and he’d run off and returned, breathless, five minutes later. He even brought a sheaf of paper and a pair of scissors with him. The diagrams were easy to follow and they spent two hours cutting and folding, seeing who could make the tiniest figure.
She thought about the other pupils, but they were much too young, too small. Then she remembered the woman in black by the edge of the woods in the late evening. She saw John in the vicinity at the same time, and wondered if he had been talking to her. She had questioned him on the matter at the first opportunity and he’d answered readily, ‘Yes, I spoke with her, she was most polite, she was a traveller who had lost her way. She was looking for the railway station and I gave her directions.’
She wasn’t sure if he was lying or it was his natural naivety, so she took to jogging before the evening meal at the same time to see if the woman returned, and after two weeks she decided John was telling the truth, but was not sure if he had been lied to.
Jason carried his and Ingrid’s sled into the workshop. John followed him with Yvette’s and his own, he stood one next to the workbench and placed the other one on top. He took a rag and proceeded to the dry the metal struts. Jason watched as he tested the wood and metal framework for stability, inspecting the joints, tightening the screws and asked as he waxed the metal runners. “Doesn’t the janitor or gardener look after the equipment?”
John shrugged. “I don’t know, I suppose one has to ask for these things to be done. I can’t take the risk of one of us, or anybody else for that matter, injuring themselves because somebody didn’t carry out his job conscientiously enough. I checked all twelve sleds yesterday evening,” he pointed to the one with a red rope tied to it, “The one you were using had a loose runner, you would have noticed it on the way down the slope, but then it would have been too late after your reckless dive, you could have finished up badly injured on the curve.”
He helped him with the rest of the sleds and hung them up on the wall. He was starting to see John in a new light, he had thought him cold and selfish, especially when hiking through the snow, never leading and always the first one to suggest a stop when Ingrid so much as heaved a heavy sigh.
He found that rather strange, as when he wasn’t hanging around Jason then he was chatting to Yvette while ignoring Ingrid completely, who couldn’t stop making sheep’s-eyes at him.
Yvette treated him politely, but ignored his half-hearted offers to help her with her juristic studies, as he had no idea about common law. His one and only favourite subject was history, his dream was to become a famous historian, a well-renowned professor like his tutor, only - as he admitted to Jason in private - to be much more proficient.
Langolerintha.
Something tickled his face. He awoke slowly and he saw, as his eyes opened fully, that he was lying in long grass. He stood up and saw Jennifer approaching. She looked different, for she was not as he remembered her, she was more mature, a young girl no longer, she was now approaching womanhood.
He looked at her clothing; she wore a purple gown of shimmering material that enhanced her beauty and added lustre to her hair that hung down like a golden bronze cloak behind her. He glanced down at his own clothing and saw he was dressed in something similar, but of a darker hue that shone silver in the sunlight. Her voice rang out, sounding like a long-forgotten song to his ears, “Hello, Jason, my love, how are you?”
She floated over the grassy surface towards him and he touched her outstretched hand, “I slept well, thank you.” He gazed about him; they were standing by a stream that flowed out of a wood and across a sea of green. “Where are we?” he asked.
“Langolerintha,” she told him. “The land of the elves, look.”
She pointed to a snow white animal, a horse with cloven hooves and a single horn as it left the wooded area. His chin dropped “A unicorn!”
The unicorn turned to him and he heard its voice inside his head, “Welcome to Langolerintha, Silvermoon,” and trotted on, followed by half-a-dozen more of its kind on which a male or female elf, dressed in fine gowns, was seated.
He looked to Jennifer, her blues eyes twinkled. He pulled her to him and slipped his arms around her waist. The scent of lavender filled his senses as her lips parted in expectation and his mouth moved closer to hers…
Someone was knocking on his door, he sat up in his armchair and his book fell to the floor with a slap. He heard a voice and he recognised John’s tones as he called out, “Lights out, Jason, time for bed.”
He rose up slowly, the vision of Jennifer still fresh in his mind. He undressed and pulled on his pyjamas, puzzled by the dream and cursing John in his mind for waking him just as he was about to-.
He lay down and pulled the covers over him. As he recalled the dream he wondered what she was doing right now, was she dreaming of him or had she forgotten him by now.
Thieves.
Jennifer woke with a start. She had heard his thoughts in her sleep. She knew his mind was on her with every free, waking moment. She had dreamed of them running away together to the fabled land of Langolerintha. She dreamed of them swimming in one of the enchanted pools beneath a waterfall in a shaded glade, where pixies filled the air with their buzzing as they flew by gathering nectar.
Now she sensed something else, something which had woken her. She felt uneasy, then she heard her father’s light tread on the landing, and feeling once again secure, she fell into a deep sleep.
Reega.
The huge grey-skinned beast lumbered behind her like a faithful dog, but this beast was nothing like man’s best friend.
While his heavy-muscled mistress was clad in thick animal furs from head to foot, over her leather armour, he was naked except for a loin cloth. His four metre-high, brawny structure waddled from side to side on his short - by comparison to a human’s - but immensely thick legs, while his fingers trailed through the snow, slightly in front of him, as if feeling the way.
Their journey, by day and by night, with her riding on his shoulders, had taken them four whole days, and now they neared their goal.
Princess Reega, eldest daughter of the goblin King Gorgob, made her way through the woods, avoiding the brambles and frozen deadwood on her way to the river. She stopped near to the edge and slipped and cursed as the beast, named Burr, one of the many cave trolls under her sway, bumped into her. “Damn you, you fool, be careful, I’m not one of your playmates. Now keep quiet and listen.”
She regained her balance on the slippery slope and sniffed the air, breathing deep. Her exhaled breath formed a cloud before her as she looked up at the h
unter’s moon turning night into a ghostly day as the clouds parted. It had snowed on and off for the past week and now, at the crucial moment, nature decided to scorn her.
Reega looked across the frozen river at the house, the home of bank director Townsend, his wife and his daughter. The white-painted wooden building was practically invisible in the wintry landscape, save for the light shining from its windows. Then she saw the vast shadow moving towards them, she looked up at the bank of clouds hiding Luna and darkening the landscape, and she praised the weather gods. She turned to her companion and beckoned. “Follow me,” and she walked onto the ice.
Burr hopped down after her from the bank and onto the icy surface, landing rather heavily. The ice cracked sharply like a pistol-shot under his weight. The sound startled her and caused her to lose her balance and slip, so that she landed with a painful thud onto her broad backside. “You imbecile,” she cursed, “Be more careful.”
Silvermoon. A Tale of a Young Werewolf. A YA Novel. 12-18 Page 5
