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CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

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KARIM'S POWERS

Freya did get to sleep in, after all. She was awake for a long time after Tammy’s unexpected visit, trying to imagine what Tammy thought she was doing. She fell asleep still wondering, and lightning flashed through her dreams, highlighting unlikely scenes in which rain, rivers and wind-demis featured heavily.

Her next awakening was also unpleasant in its own way. For a while, she dreamt that her mother was calling her and her family to breakfast, that there were pancakes with lemon juice waiting on the table. Freya wasn’t sure if this had ever actually happened, even on Pancake Day, and it was the unlikeliness of the dream that roused her in the end. Her mother was indeed calling her, but alas, no pancakes or other family materialised. With a start, Freya remembered the events of the night, and hastened down the stairs to check on her mother’s injuries.

She was kept busy for a while making tea, finding something edible for breakfast, and re-bandaging her mother’s wounds, which looked much worse in daylight. After that, she was sent outside to check on the potted plants her mother had set up when they first arrived at the house.

“Don’t touch them, just make sure they got some water overnight,” said Danae.

Great, even my own mother doesn’t trust me to grow plants now.

Freya was glad when Karim arrived with the promised potion. She had never had any aspirations to be a nurse, and dealing with her mother’s pain-induced crotchetiness would have put her off if she had. She had watered those plants that had missed the night’s rain through being too close to the house when the easterly storm had come through. She’d moved other plant pots in the exact order specified by her mother – wondering all the while when her Mum had had time to pot up all these things. Hadn’t she been working late for weeks? And they’d only had a few weeks in town before the big storm hit. Grumbling to herself, Freya had prepared breakfast for both of them, going back for several different herbs that her mother wanted on her eggs. Sometimes, having a mother who knew everything there was to know about plants and herbs was just a touch irksome.

“Who cares if oregano is better than marjoram for wound-healing? They taste practically identical.” She had made more herbal tea again as directed. The smell had just about put her off her breakfast, though she was sure it was very wholesome. All things considered, she supposed that she should be glad that her mother hadn’t made her drink the same thing, after the first were attack.

I guess that tells me how worried Mum was when Tammy disappeared. Even though she didn’t seem to be.

Which reminded her...

“Mum. About last night. After we got back, you fell asleep – actually so did I. But anyway, Tammy came back. No – she’s not here now, sit down.” For her mother had tried to get to her feet, regardless of her mauled leg. “She said she couldn’t be seen with us in public. Which is incredibly rude of her. But anyway, she said to tell you that she was OK, and that she loves us. She said it’s only for a while, till she gets to the top of the pack power structure, I think that’s what she meant, anyway.”

Freya stopped, horrified by the silent sobs that were wracking her mother.

“Mum, it’s OK.” Freya patted her mother’s back, then tried giving her a hug. “Oh, alright, it’s not OK. It’s horrible and I miss her even though we haven’t really talked in years.” Tears were sliding down her own cheeks now. Emotion was contagious. “I don’t know what deal she’s got with the weres, but she said she saw the ones that attacked us come in, and they were boasting about what they’d done, which is why she came to check on us. I wish we’d never come here!”

The quiet knock on the door sounded like a bass drum to Freya’s oversensitive ears. Leaping up from beside her mother, she scrubbed her face with her sleeve.

“I’ll answer it,” she announced, as though there had been any doubt.

Karim stood at the door, looking fresh and well-scrubbed. Freya sniffed. Aftershave? It was a bit early in the morning for that wasn’t it? She glanced at the clock in the hall.

Oops. Not early morning anymore.

The smell of aftershave was overpowering.

“Good morning,” she said politely.

“Hey Freya, nice nightie.”

Freya looked down at herself. What with one tea or another, she hadn’t had a chance to change out of the long t-shirt she’d worn to bed. It was rather short these days, and bore the picture of a curled-up cat with a thought bubble across her breasts. It declared in large letters ‘Cats have better dreams’. She blushed.

“It’s been a busy morning,” she said defensively.

“Nah, I like it!” Karim declared, grinning.

Typical. Of course the descendant of Bastet likes a cat nightie.

She decided the only way forward was to change the subject.

“So, did you have any luck making a potion yet?”

Karim became serious at once.

“I’ve made a first attempt. When Aisha and I told the family - that’s my family, no capitals, right? – about what happened, they got pretty upset. That’s why Aisha’s not here today. They wouldn’t let her out of the house. Apparently, since I’ve been taking care of myself overseas all summer, I’m allowed to brave the streets of our hometown. Anyway. Can I come in?”

Freya realised she’d been standing in the doorway, and Karim was still on the step.

“Oh, yes. Sorry.”

She led the way into the hall, then hesitated. Where should she take him? She wanted to hear what else he had to say before taking him in to her mother. Danae was in the lounge, which left only the kitchen or the bedrooms. She was somehow uncomfortable about taking him to her room. While she’d admired his eyes the night before, she felt uneasy with him this morning.

Probably because you’re not dressed, she told herself.

“Come into the kitchen. Do you want tea? I’ve just finished making some for Mum. You probably want something different to her though, hers was pretty medicinal smelling.”

“Sure thing,” Karim replied easily, as he followed her the short distance to the kitchen. “Just promise me we’re not going up on those cliffs again afterwards, alright?”

“Absolutely! Though they’re probably safe enough in daylight – after all, the place is swarming with birders in spring, isn’t it?” commented Freya.

“Let’s wait for spring, then. Even the birds couldn’t tempt me right now,” said Karim.

Freya had to laugh.

As Freya made yet more tea, she asked Karim,

“So, you said you’d made an attempt at a potion. Did your grandmother figure anything out? Or you?”

Karim held up a small glass pot in answer. It contained something yellow, like beeswax.

“It was a joint effort,” he said. “Nena made up the base and I added the good stuff. It should work against whatever’s keeping the wound from healing. Probably some sort of bacteria, but I included anti-fungals as well, just in case. And it’s been blessed by Bastet, of course.” He glanced towards the lounge, where her Mum was no doubt straining her ears to hear what was being said. He lowered his voice. “Better get this potion on you and your Mum as soon as you can. I don’t know what other effects were-bites have, but you don’t want to start howling to the moon, I’m guessing.”

Freya shuddered at the idea of becoming like her attackers.

“They did tell me you don’t become a were by being bitten,” she said aloud. “And nothing like that has happened to me in the last few weeks.”

“Well, I don’t know,” said Karim. “All the folklore says you do, so there must be something in it. And while I haven’t heard you howl yet, I only met you yesterday. Anyway, even if that’s not the way it works, there’s clearly something unpleasant in their bite. Do you want me to put the ointment on you?”

Freya hesitated. Did she want Karim’s hands touching her? She wasn’t sure.

“I’ll just put it on, no funny stuff,” he assured her, perhaps reading the doubt in her expression.

“Alright, then.” She sat down on the sole kitchen chair and stuck out her bare leg. She’d had it covered with bandages, but they’d been soaked and dirty after last night’s adventures, so she’d peeled them off and left them on the floor by her bed.

Karim knelt by her feet, glanced up at her, and grinned again.

“Your wish is my command, oh Queen,” he intoned mock-seriously.

“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.

***

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