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Clara woke early the next morning, her stomach growling fiercely. With the rest of the house still asleep, she crept downstairs in her pyjamas and made a bowl of cereal and a mug of tea, which she took back to her room. After her parents had gone to work, she got dressed and went down to the kitchen for a second bowl of cereal. She had some making up to do after barely eating the day before.
Passing the living room, she was surprised to find her brother in there playing his Nintendo. Because he was only eleven, Clara’s mum usually dropped him at a friend’s house during the holidays while she and Clara’s dad were at work.
“What are you doing here?” Clara asked Peter.
“I asked to stay at home,” he responded without looking up. “As you’re grounded, Mum said it was okay.”
“Humph,” replied Clara and carried on to the kitchen. She ate her cereal at the table then washed her dishes. Drying them, she gazed longingly out of the window towards the woods.
“Where were you last night?” Peter asked, making Clara jump. She hadn’t heard him sneaking up behind her. She blinked at him as she considered his question. Why would he ask something like that?
“I was in bed – where were you?”
“No, you weren’t,” Peter said. “I woke up needing to pee and I put my head round your bedroom door and you weren’t there.”
Clara felt beads of cold sweat break out on the back of her neck and she swallowed nervously. “Of course I was there, where else would I be?” she scoffed. “Are you sure you weren’t dreaming?”
“No, I was awake,” he said, although she could hear doubt in his voice. “I was going to wake Mum and Dad and tell them you were gone, but I thought I’d wait for a while to see if you came back. I waited in the hallway and then I heard a noise and it was you getting into bed. So where did you go? And how did you get back in without going past me? Were you with that boy?”
Clara thought quickly. If she didn’t answer his questions to his satisfaction, he would carry on spying on her and digging to find the truth. But she couldn’t tell him the truth – that would be a disaster.
“I never left my room,” she responded. “Sometimes I sit on the floor in the corner by the wardrobe, where no one can see me. I must’ve fallen asleep there. When I woke up I got into bed.” She shrugged as nonchalantly as she could.
Peter peered closely at her, trying to make out whether she was telling the truth. Her explanation did sound plausible, and he might’ve missed seeing her in the dark, after all he didn’t go right into her room.
“Hmm,” he replied. Then he changed the subject. “What’s for lunch?”
“Okay. A, it’s still the middle of the morning, not lunchtime. And B, lunch is whatever you make. You’re eleven years old. That’s old enough to look after yourself.” Clara pushed Peter out of the kitchen and back in the direction of the living room.
“But Sam’s mum always makes us lunch,” he whined.
“Good for Sam’s mum,” replied Clara. “I’m not your mum and you can take care of yourself.”
She pushed him into the living room and went back to her bedroom, closing the door firmly. Passing by her bedroom window she thought she caught sight of movement in the woods. Is that Luke? she wondered, peering out of the window. But if she’d seen something, it wasn’t there any more. She picked up her TV remote and settled down on her bed to watch some telly.
Still too angry to be in her parents’ company for more than a few minutes at a time, Clara spent most of the week in her room. When the walls felt like they were closing in on her, she waited for everyone to fall asleep then, after double-checking Peter was definitely in bed, she transformed into her owl form and flew over to the Gypsy camp. She found Luke sitting out in the darkness, alone, next to his caravan. She landed nearby. He didn’t look surprised to see her.
“I hoped you might come,” he whispered, lightly stroking her feathers.
Clara hooted quietly in reply, and hopped up onto Luke’s outstretched leg. He didn’t mind her claws digging into his leg, making tiny holes in his jeans. It was a small price to pay for Clara’s company. But she couldn’t stay long, for fear Peter might wake again and find her missing.
***
Luke watched Clara fly away. He felt a wave of envy for her freedom and suddenly wanted, very badly, to leave the stifling confines of the camp. Quelling the small voice at the back of his brain which was telling him that leaving the camp alone and in secret was a very bad idea, Luke crawled into the deep shadow under the caravan and transformed. Having practised for six months, he was now able to shape-shift easily. When it first happened, Grams had told him he came from an old and gifted family – a family with a tradition of strong magic. Different members of the family had developed different abilities, depending on need, and those abilities had been passed down through the generations.
“Magic is ephemeral,” she’d said. “It changes form, depending on its host. Your branch of ancestors developed the ability to transform into dogs. It was a very useful skill during the Gypsy wars. But after the wars ended, the Gypsy council decided the use of magic had to stop, to protect the Gypsy families that were left. They created a law stating that only the healers of the clans could use magic, and even then, only for the purpose of healing. Over the next few generations, people forgot what their ancestors had been capable of. Their abilities became myths and there are very few known ‘gifted’ Gypsies left.”
Luke thought about this as his body shrank and bent, as fur grew out of his skin and his nails turned to claws. He thought it was unfair that he would be in danger if the council found out about his abilities. After all, he hadn’t asked for it – it had just happened.
Once the transformation was complete he sneaked out of the campsite, alert to any unusual smells or sounds. He kept low in the long grass to avoid detection by the camp’s night guards, and reached the relative safety of the woods. Sticking close to cover, Luke skulked through the woods, breathing deeply for what felt like the first time in weeks, until he reached Clara’s house. Apart from her curtains fluttering in the breeze through her open window, there was no movement from Clara’s bedroom. He raised his nose in the direction of the window. If he concentrated hard enough he thought he could smell her particular sweet scent, like strawberries on a warm day. He pictured her curled up in bed, relaxed and sleeping, and felt another pang of jealousy.
He sat for a while at the edge of the woodland, near the log where he’d seen Clara transform that first time. He’d been so shocked at the time that he’d gone straight back to camp and told Grams what he’d seen. She had initially been surprised by what he told her, but only for an instant, before recognition dawned on her face. “I suspected it was your friendship with Clara that had initiated your gift, Luke, but I didn’t understand why – until now,” she’d said cryptically. The Gypsies had moved camp the following morning and Luke hadn’t seen Clara again until they returned to her town a couple of months ago.
I wonder what she’d think if I told her about my abilities. Would she be happy for me? Would she feel threatened? Would she be afraid? It would certainly change our friendship, but how? Luke felt a flicker of anxiety. She was his only friend and he didn’t want to lose her for any reason. Not when they got to spend so little time together as it was. Luke started at the sound of a twig breaking somewhere behind him. He jerked around and tensed for flight as he searched the area for any sign of movement. A bush a little way off shuddered briefly and Luke’s nose picked up the strong musty scent of a fox. Luke let his muscles relax, but his heart still thumped, pumping adrenaline through his body. He stood up and started to run back to camp. Hopefully the run would burn off the adrenaline and tire him out so he could get to sleep on his return. He loved the feeling of running in dog form. He felt he could go for miles without stopping if he wanted to. If I was free to, he thought. He shook himself to clear his mind and focused instead on the steady thrump, thrump, thrump of his feet on the dry ground. Nearing Bob’s territory he slowed, not wanting to startle his friend. Having heard Luke coming, Bob was on his feet a little way outside his den. The two dogs sniffed each other to say hello before Luke continued on to the camp. Once more he was careful to stay low until he was back among the caravans. He didn’t want to get caught disobeying his dad’s instruction not to leave.
Satisfied that everyone in the camp was sleeping soundly, Luke transformed back into his human form and went into his caravan. He could hear his dad snoring softly in his room. Luke went into his own bedroom, wriggled out of his T-shirt and jeans and got into bed. He felt a lot better after his night-time jaunt and soon relaxed into sleep, where he dreamt he was running through the woods, initially alone but then joined by Bob and Clara – his friends, his pack, a family.