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LOOKING FOR TAMMY
Freya was glad when they finally reached the steep stairs leading down the cliffs to the sea. The blister on her heel had been joined by several more. Her wounded leg was protesting continued use. What had she been thinking, to go out again last night after the first incident? Now, her whole body ached, with occasional stabs of pain from bites, for added interest. She was extremely uncomfortable in the presence of the were-foxes who had beaten her the night before, and twitched whenever one glanced back at her. She had no reason to trust Lisichka’s control of the youths. The last thing she wanted to do was spend time with them, but she also wanted to see her sister safe.
So near the sea, the strong breeze had increased to buffet them dangerously as they descended. Freya wished she’d thought to bring a tie for her hair, as her tresses lashed her in the eyes while she tried to take careful downward steps. She paused a moment to braid her hair instead. She knew it was a futile effort, since without a tie it would quickly unravel again, but her hands kept going through the habitual movements. It was briefly comforting to have her hair out of her face, at any rate. She then had to hurry to catch up with the were-fox clan.
The last few metres of steps were covered by gigantic piles of flotsam. Large rocks, whole trees, a boat or so, unidentifiable coloured bits of plastic, seaweed, a dead bird, it was all jumbled together in a random assortment. Freya followed the path picked out by the were-foxes, trying not to breath in the already-strong smell of decay emanating from the pile. Or maybe that was just seaweed.
The beach was covered with detritus from the storm – so much so that at first Freya didn’t see the figure washed up at mid-tide. Ragged clothing blended in with torn plastic bags – still a regular feature of beaches despite being banned years ago – and parti-coloured stones helped to disguise the body that lay there. The were-foxes had headed in that direction as soon as they set foot on the beach, so it was several minutes of careful rock-hopping before Freya could see the body that was her sister. Pushing her way through the surrounding weres, heedless now of their destructive potential, Freya reached her sister’s side.
Tammy was lying face down on the stones, one hand flung out towards the cliffs. Her hair was dark with seawater. The waves still broke around her feet, and if the beach had had any more slope, Tammy would have been sucked back into the churning, silt-tinted sea within minutes. The tide was coming in.
Clutched in her sister’s outflung hand was a curiously shaped piece of flint. Glaring at the weres who circled her, daring them to come any closer, Freya pushed her way to her sister, and gently opened Tammy’s hand. The flint was roughly chipped into the shape of a canine. Perhaps, Freya thought numbly, it was a fox.
The hand suddenly clenched around the flint once more, startling Freya into dropping it. Her heart beating wildly, Freya cried out.
“Tammy! Tammy, are you alive?”
She immediately felt silly for doing so. Despite all the fantasy tales she had read as a child, zombies were not a thing. Weres, demis, water spirits and more, certainly. But zombies were things of the imagination. So, no matter how dead her sister had looked, lying on the beach, if she moved, she was most certainly alive. She took a deep, steadying breath, and asked in what she hoped was a more measured tone,
“Tammy, are you hurt? Do you need help? These weres led me here. Um. You should probably tell me more about them. But... maybe not just now. When you’re feeling better.”
Freya looked uncertainly around. The weres had stopped circling, so she felt slightly less like a waggoneer about to be set upon by Native Americans, but she unquestionably didn’t feel safe.
“Tammy, come on, speak to me! I’ve been looking for you all day. Mum will be out of her mind with worry. What’s been going on?”
Freya realised she’d been shouting. So much for steadying breaths. A groan emerged from Tammy, and she turned her head towards Freya.
“What are you doing here, Freya? You shouldn’t be here. This is my time.” Tammy’s voice was croaky.
Freya felt rebuffed, hurt. Here she was, having worn out her already beaten body, having tolerated being near the perpetrators of that beating, having thought (however briefly) that Tammy could be dead - and Tammy told her she shouldn’t be here? It was intolerable. She opened her mouth to say as much, when another voice intervened.
“Well done, Tammy. It appears that you have brought forth a relic of our ancient sea-covered land. Rise, and join us.”
Freya looked up at the speaker in disgust. Lisichka stood slightly in front of the other weres. She was smiling serenely, her eyes focused on the flint figurine.
“How can you do this?” raged Freya. “You’re trying to steal away my sister, and you haven’t even checked to see that she is OK! And what have you told her? She’s my sister, I have every right to see if she’s hurt.”
“Oh, but I don’t need to steal her away. She is doing this of her own free will, aren’t you, Tammy?” Lisichka’s voice held a faint mocking note. Tammy flopped over onto her back with another groan. She lifted the flint figure so that she could see it, back-lit by the setting sun. Freya was sure a small smile flitted over her face before she cradled it to her breast and sat up. She cleared her throat.
“Look, thanks for checking on me, Freya. Go back to Mum and tell her I’m fine. This is what I’ve chosen for myself. I want more from life than endless wandering from town to town, never belonging anywhere. You always think I don’t have ambition.”
“I never said that!”
Tammy ignored Freya’s interruption.
“You’re just not looking in the right way. I’ve always had the ambition to find a place for myself. When I met Lisichka... and her son... well, maybe you don’t remember much about what Mum told us about weres.”
“That’s because she told us almost nothing.”
“Yeah, she did. I remember even if you don’t. Maybe you should have paid more attention. But you know what weres do? They settle down, and they stay put, and they look after their own. I want that, Freya.”
“You’re not the only one who’s sick of always moving.”
“Yeah, sure. Moving sucks Loki’s ass. But when they said I smelled good... I knew I had the chance to change my life, for the better! They have extremely sensitive noses, you know. It wouldn’t work out if I didn’t smell right.”
“You’re abandoning us because of the way we smell?”
“Listen, I’m taking that chance with both hands, no matter what it takes. And of course, I can do things they can’t. So I’ll have status. No were can summon like I can.”
“But you summon better with me, Tammy, don’t you remember? You said so yourself, that summer you taught me how.”
“I think I’ve shown today that I can summon pretty well on my own. No-one has ever gone as far into the sea-kingdoms as I have now. So, you go, have a good life, make it your own. Go and be what you want to be, Freya. Don’t let Mum keep dragging you around. I’m staying here with the weres. I just wish you hadn’t got on the wrong side of my family-to-be.”
Finishing her speech, Tammy rubbed at her drying hair, which fell in short tangles down her back.
“Ugh, I so much prefer fresh water to salt.”
She looked up at the ring of waiting weres and assumed a more dignified manner, lifting the artefact in her hands above her head. She seemed to swell, become more than herself. A wild gleam entered her eyes. Freya suddenly wondered how well she knew her sister after all.
“Doggerland lives,” Tammy intoned.
Freya wondered what on earth she was talking about. It didn’t sound pleasant. However, a cheer went up from the surrounding clan (with some suspicious yips interspersed with it). Lisichka stepped close again, and addressed herself to Tammy.
“You have done better than I expected.”
There was reluctant admiration in her voice.
“You must be good at wrangling with the powers of the sea. How fares Doggerland, the land of our ancestors?”
Tammy shrugged, then seemed to realise that she should be more formal. She cleared her throat.
“The sea rules over that land now, as you know. But the rivers of old still carve their channels through the seabed, though they are now hunted by sea wolves and squid.”
She looked at Freya, and Freya could tell that her sister was trying not to laugh at her own words. That hidden gleam of laughter made her heart ache for her sister, who seemed to think that belonging to this group of others was more important than their own family.
Freya tried one more time to persuade her sister to come back to reality, to normality.
“Come on, Tammy. Just come back home with me. We can talk about what you’re doing next. Tell Mum yourself that you’re OK. Don’t make this the end of our family!”
Freya felt tears leaking out of her eyes, and dashed them away hurriedly. She hated to show that she was overwhelmed in front of the weres. While they might not be close anymore, Tammy was a third of her family, not to mention the only sister she had. Freya didn’t want to lose her.
“Please, Tammy. Come home.” Tammy was shaking her head.
“Sorry, Freya. This is my chance and I’m taking it. There’s all I need, right here. Plenty of water, beings who are prepared to put trust in me, welcome me, value my strengths.” She grinned. “I could have children, even. I don’t want to risk losing this opportunity. Even you being here is going to cause some issues. You know yourself that some of them don’t take kindly to you.”
Horrified at this cavalier dismissal of the severe beating she’d received at the hands of the weres that her sister wanted to join, Freya immediately protested.
“Didn’t ‘take kindly’ to me? How can you talk about extreme violence so lightly?! I could have been killed, if Lio - er - if that passing sprite - hadn’t done something to stop them! And why leave now? Why did you go out in the storm, for goodness’ sake?”
Never mind that I also went out in the storm.
Tammy patted Freya on the shoulder.
“I know, I know, and I’m sorry. The storm - well, there are huge currents during a storm like that. I knew I could go deeper with a big swell, get something worthwhile. It’s lucky I spent all those years practising with water deities though. I almost didn’t make it. There were selkies down there, and they’re almost as territorial as weres. Speaking of weres, Lisichka here has assured me that those youngsters will be punished. They’ll know not to do it again. Apparently young weres can be easily upset, especially at this time of year. The oldest ones will be moving on to new territories soon. But the poor decisions of a few teenagers don’t necessarily reflect the whole society. What I’ve seen of the rest of the clan is really positive. They work for the good of the group, even though we see a lot of loners around. They come back home to a loving family. Like ours used to be. If you smelt better to them, I’d encourage you to join them, too. As it is...” she shrugged. “I think your best option is to follow your ambitions. Finish school, get a degree maybe. Prove yourself in some way if that’s your thing, go do something big. Somewhere else.”
There was no stopping Freya’s tears now, though she tried desperately to maintain her dignity.
“Somewhere else? Don’t I get to choose where to live my life, what to do with it? At least when I’m old enough. I wouldn’t have chosen all this moving either, that’s for sure. And you’re my sister. Can’t you stick up for me? You should! Come on, Tammy. Mum and I need you. Don’t ditch us at the first opportunity.”
Tammy shrugged.
“I’m not ditching you. I’m bettering my position, just like all those Jane Austin heroines. I found a being of good fortune in want of a wife. You should be congratulating me, Freya.”
“Yeah, sure. Well done, Tammy. Just what you always wanted.” Freya’s voice was bitter.
The weres closed in at that point, pointedly avoiding contact with Freya. They lifted Tammy to their shoulders in a sitting position. She put her arms around them for support, and as they bore her towards the stairs up the cliffs like a queen, Tammy looked back and waved at Freya, once. Freya was left behind on the beach, waves thundering on the pebbles, all alone.
The splash of a wave on her foot reminded Freya that the sea was encroaching, and she would have to move or be washed out to sea herself. Without the extra-strong watery connection her sister had, she probably wouldn’t survive the experience. With a shaky sigh, Freya started the long, weary journey up the stairs and home.
***
