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Clara was worried that when she got home her mum would be furious with her for setting a dog on her brother, but Peter said nothing about the matter during dinner. He ate quickly and left the table without so much as looking at Clara. Later that evening, she was in her room when there was a tentative knock on the door.
“Come in,” she called, and was surprised when Peter shuffled in. He stood close to the door, looking nervous.
“Something’s going on with you,” he said, although it seemed more like a question than an accusation.
“What do you mean?” asked Clara, lowering the volume on the TV.
“You’ve been behaving really weirdly this last year or so. Spending so much time with Aunt Selina, or out in the woods, disappearing during the night, and now you have weird friends too. Mum and Dad say it’s ’cause you’re a teenager, but I don’t think so. There was something going on down at that Gypsy camp – and you’re involved in it.”
Clara snorted. “You’re imagining things.”
Peter turned red. “Am not!” he said defiantly. “I want to know what’s going on. I can help, you know, I’ve got skills.”
“I don’t think getting to level one hundred and forty-six of whatever game you’re playing on your little machine counts as having skills,” scoffed Clara, then regretted it when Peter swelled up and turned red, like he was about to explode. “Look,” she said putting out a calming hand. “There’s nothing sinister going on. Luke’s family are just busy people, going about their daily lives, and I like spending time with them while they’re here. They’ll be moving on in a couple of weeks and I won’t see them again for goodness knows how long.” Clara tried to keep her voice casual, but she couldn’t help it quivering when she talked about the Gypsies leaving.
Peters face had returned to something like his normal colour. “Fine,” he said. “Don’t tell me. I’ll find out on my own.” And he turned and left, leaving the door wide open.
Clara rolled her eyes. She got up and pushed the door closed, flopping back down on her bed and increasing the volume on the TV. She sighed, trying to set aside new bubbles of anxiety. The last thing she needed was Peter sticking his nose in and trying to find out about her secret or about the Gypsies’ troubles.
***
Peter stormed back to his bedroom. He was angry with Clara. They used to be so close but in the past year or so she’d distanced herself from him and her parents, spending all her time out or in her bedroom. His parents had told him it was natural, that was how teenagers behaved, and that in a year or two he would be the same, but he missed the time they used to spend together. He missed their regular Friday night DVD or board game session. They didn’t spend any time together any more. Peter’s curiosity had been sparked by Clara bringing Luke home to dinner. He found the older boy intriguing. He and Clara made such an odd pairing, and Peter couldn’t understand how they’d become friends. But Clara was clearly fond of the boy and this made Peter jealous. Peter was convinced Clara was sneaking out at night to meet Luke – and he was determined to prove it. Peter picked up his Nintendo and turned it over in his hands as an idea began to form in his mind.
***
Later that evening, after her brother had gone to bed but her parents were still downstairs, Clara crept across to her parents’ room and peered out of the window. There was no sign of the white van. She scoured the street, in case it had parked somewhere else, but she couldn’t see it.
After her parents had gone to bed and Clara was sure everyone was asleep, she transformed into an owl and flew out over the houses on the estate. There was still no sign of the white van. There were other white vans, but not the one that had parked at the end of her street. Just to be sure, she flew over to where the stranger had hidden in the bushes at the edge of the scrubland. There was no sign of him. She landed in a nearby tree and asked all the animals if they could sense a human being nearby.
She was initially startled to discover that there were, in fact, sightings of numerous people nearby, then Clara realised she recognised them all. Clearly the night watch had been increased and moved further out from the campsite.
Clara flew over to the camp and glided through Luke’s window, dropping gracefully onto his bed. She’d expected to land on his sleeping form but was surprised to find him fully clothed, sitting up on his bed in the dark, waiting for her.
“Hey,” he whispered.
Quietly, she hooted back.
“Any sign of the van?” Luke asked.
Clara shook her owl head from side to side.
“We didn’t think there would be,” said Luke. “The guys that were following it haven’t come back.” He sighed. “You should go home and get some sleep.” Luke stroked Clara’s feathers softly before putting his hand down to her claws. She stepped onto his fingers and he lifted his hand up and out of the window. Clara took off, circling once before aiming towards home. As she flew from the camp, she caught sight of Luke leaving his caravan and trotting over to Grams’ caravan. When he opened the door, a dim light shone out and she glimpsed the outline of several figures inside. Luke spoke briefly, then turned and left the group, going back to his own bed. Full of curiosity, Clara banked back and flew down to Grams’ caravan. Landing lightly on the roof, she strained her ears to see if she could hear what was being said inside.
“The defences are coming along according to plan. They’ll be finished tomorrow,” said a muffled voice Clara didn’t recognise.
“Good,” Des responded.
“Are we absolutely sure it’s necessary?” the first voice asked.
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if it wasn’t,” growled Des. “Simon would’ve been humiliated by failing to get Luke the last time. He’ll take it out on all of us because he knows that will hurt me – which is what this is all about. They’ll come back stronger, better equipped, and with a view to causing as much damage as possible. I’m sure of it.”
There was an intense silence in the van.
“If we stick together we’ll be fine,” said Grams, quietly. “It’s not as if we haven’t had arguments with other clans before. Thanks to Des’s excellent leadership it’s been a while, but if we give in to Simon it’ll just make him think he can do whatever he wants, whenever he wants, and that would be dangerous. We need to stand up to him. To nip his power-hungry behaviour in the bud.”
“But that’s the council’s job...” said another voice.
“The council can do nothing without evidence,” said Grams emphatically.
“And we don’t have any,” added Des. “So, do you have any more questions about the plan?”
There was silence.
“All right, then. Brief your teams in the morning. We need to be ready at a moment’s notice.”
There were murmurings in the van and the shuffling of several people moving towards the door. Silently Clara took off and flew quickly away, her heart thumping from what she’d overheard.
When she arrived home, she was still distracted about the meeting. She landed on her windowsill and peered around for a moment. She heard and saw nothing suspicious, so she hopped into the room, transformed into her human self, put on a nightie and crawled into bed.
***
Clara got a fright when she opened her eyes the next morning. Peter was standing next to her bed, frowning at her, his arms folded.
“Peter, you gave me a fright,” she said, sitting up. “What’s up?”
Peter didn’t say a word. From under his arm he produced his Nintendo and pointed the screen at Clara. He pressed a button. The picture was dark and grainy, but Clara could clearly make out her bedroom, then an owl appearing on the windowsill. It hopped into the room, changed into Clara, then dressed and climbed into bed. Peter snapped the device closed and refolded his arms, raising his eyebrows at Clara, clearly waiting for an explanation.
As she’d watched the video, the blood had drained from Clara’s face. She felt dizzy and sick. She couldn’t breathe. By the end of the viewing her brain had frozen and she could do nothing other than stare at Peter, her fear etched across her features.
“Either you talk, or I show this video to Mum and Dad,” Peter said.
Clara’s eyes widened. She believed he’d do exactly what he said if she tried to bluff. She’d underestimated his curiosity in her – and his initiative. For the life of her Clara couldn’t think of a way to avoid telling Peter the truth. She briefly considered wrestling the machine out of his hands, but it would be simple enough for him to yell and attract their parents’ attention. They were downstairs enjoying a leisurely weekend breakfast.
“Okay,” she said with a sigh of defeat. “But not here, it’s too dangerous.” They agreed to get dressed and go out to the woods, where Clara led Peter over to a log and they sat down. It was the log she used to transform at under the three nights of the full moon when she’d been under the curse. She thought, wryly, it was an appropriate place to reveal her deepest secret to her brother.
She told him everything from the beginning. She told him about when she started having nightmares and sleepless nights, about Great-Aunt Selina explaining to Clara what the symptoms meant. She told him about her training with Selina, about her transformations, and about how she’d made friends with Bob, a stray dog who lived in the woods. The only thing she left out was detail about Luke’s family and their association with the curse.
It took a long time to tell Peter everything. When Clara had finished, there was a long silence. Clara studied Peter’s expression to see if she could assess his reaction to her unbelievable tale.
“That is so cool,” Peter said at last. “Can you do it now?”
Clara’s mouth twitched and her shoulders dropped as she relaxed. “I can,” she said, “but I’m not going to. It’s too dangerous to do it out here in the middle of the day where anyone can come along. Nobody can know about this, Peter.” Clara grabbed Peter’s hand and squeezed it tightly for emphasis. “Not Mum and Dad, not your friends. Nobody. Do you understand? You could put all our lives in danger if someone found out.”
She could see Peter was so excited by her confession he wasn’t really listening to her warning. She sighed. She had to impress upon him how dangerous it was. So she told Peter the stories Selina had told her about their ancestors who’d been murdered or driven away from their homes when their secret had got out.
“All right,” said Peter, looking a little pale after hearing the gruesome details of Clara’s stories. “I won’t tell anyone. But I want to see you do it. I want to see you transform.”
Clara sighed. “Okay,” she said. “Tonight, after Mum and Dad have gone to sleep.”
Peter frowned, opening his mouth to argue, then he paused and closed it again, nodding in reluctant agreement. His stomach rumbled loudly. They’d come out before breakfast and it was now nearly lunchtime. They went home and made themselves a huge pile of sandwiches, washed down with juice, before Clara announced she was going to meet Luke. She could tell Peter wanted to come along, but she didn’t give him a chance to ask. She waltzed out the door with a “See ya later” and a wink of promise. She hoped that would keep him happy for a while.
She was all set to tell Luke about Peter finding out about her gift, but when she arrived at the camp she could see there was a meeting taking place in Grams’ caravan. All thoughts about her own problems flittered away.
She located Luke in the group of people who were watching the meeting from outside, and went over to join him.
“One of the guys that was following the white van has come back,” murmured Luke.
Just then, the meeting in the caravan broke up. Seeing everyone already gathered outside, Des jumped up onto a bench and addressed the crowd. “Whatever Simon is planning to do is going to happen soon,” he began.
A murmur ran through the crowd. Des held his hand up for quiet.
“Will says they’re gathering their men together. He’s left Rob watching them. Rob will call us when they move, so we can be ready. Don’t go too far from the camp for the next couple of days. That’s all.” Des jumped down from the bench. He was immediately surrounded by Gypsies, wanting to ask him questions about their attack preparations.
Clara looked at Luke, her heart thumping. “I’m not going to leave,” she said. “I’m staying here with you until it happens.”
Luke grinned at Clara and shook his head. “How would you explain that to your parents?” he asked reasonably. “Besides, it’s not necessary. I’ve told you before, we can take care of ourselves.”
Clara blinked. She suddenly became aware of an assurance and maturity that Luke hadn’t had before. She saw further evidence of it while she stayed with Luke all day and into the evening. She followed his confident instructions on setting up the final defences and helped the small children pile into trucks to be taken to a safe house. He laughed and joked easily with the small children to put them at their ease. He seemed tense and nervous with anticipation, but not afraid of what was coming. This made Clara all the more anxious for him. Luke eventually had to send her away so she’d arrive home in time for her curfew. Even running all the way, Clara only just made it, receiving a tut and a dark look from her mum, which Clara ignored. She spent the evening running from room to room, peering out of the windows, looking for anything out of the ordinary. She hadn’t been at it long when Peter appeared to remind her about her promise.
“Not tonight, Peter,” said Clara gruffly. “We’re going to have to do it some other time.”
“But you promised!” said Peter angrily. “I knew you’d try and get out of it.”
“I’m not,” replied Clara. “I just can’t do it tonight, that’s all.”
“Why, what’s going on?” he asked.
“Er... nothing,” Clara replied, unconvincingly.
“You’re a really bad liar, Clara,” Peter said scathingly.
Deciding that silence was her best option, Clara firmly closed her mouth and continued her pacing from room to room. Peter watched her for a while, but, when it became obvious she wasn’t going to tell him anything further he huffed back to his own room and slammed the door. Through it came the faint beep, beep, beep of his game as the sun set and the day faded to dusk.
Clara waited impatiently for her parents to go to bed. It seemed to take an eternity, although they went at the usual time, telling Peter to turn his game off and go to sleep as they passed his room. Clara was already pretending to be asleep, under the covers of her bed.
She listened as her parents got into bed. She lay still for another half an hour, counting down each agonising minute. She was about to rise, transform and get herself over to the Gypsy camp when she heard footsteps padding across the hallway. Her bedroom door was pushed open. It was Peter.
“Go back to bed,” she whispered to him urgently.
“No,” he responded. “You promised to show me. If you don’t, I’ll tell Mum and Dad. I’ve still got that video.”
Clara tutted and made a mental note to find the video and destroy it at the earliest opportunity. She thought for a few moments about what to do, but her anxiety about getting to the camp outweighed everything else.
“All right,” she said. “But then you have to go straight back to bed.” Peter nodded eagerly. Clara threw back her bed covers, jumped lightly out and ran over to the window, opening it as wide as it would go.
“After I’ve gone, do not close the window!” she said to Peter. He nodded and opened his eyes as wide as possible so he could see his sister transform into an animal for the first time. Clara stood in front of the window, closed her eyes and transformed into an owl.
Peter blinked. His jaw dropped open in awe and amazement. He slapped his hands to his mouth to stifle a shout of glee.
Clara hopped onto the windowsill. She turned to look at Peter briefly then took off into the night. When she banked away from her house she could see him leaning out of the window, watching her. For a moment, she worried about how he would respond. Would he freak out and wake her parents? She shook her head. She couldn’t worry about that right now. She glided silently above the trees and over the hilltop. Then her heart stopped as she witnessed the scene of utter chaos at the Gypsy campsite below.