And then Izzy’s face changed. A smile took the whole of her eyes, making her tough angles handsome. Mum used the word to disparage a girl’s ankles, but now Tea understood its true meaning. A man should be handsome, but a girl could be, too.
It had been a look of kindness. That’s all. It meant nothing.
“Of course you heard something.” Izzy narrowed her eyes and cocked her head, as if inspecting something deep behind Tea’s eyes. “It’s … the eels. They speak to you.”
With that, Tea broke free of the spell. “Eels can’t talk!” she laughed.
Izzy finally removed her hand, nodded, and folded her arms. “Good. I wasn’t wrong about you after all. You really are Robbie’s sister.”
“What are you talking about?” Tea continued to laugh. She had to. The short burst of relief had been taken over by something much darker than the night. “Of course I’m Robbie’s sister!”
Before Tea could turn Izzy’s meaning into something real, before she failed to resist the riptide that pulled her towards the creek, another sound intruded on their camp. A thunk of hooves on grass.
One of the horses must have wandered over to investigate. The dogs looked up sleepily, unfazed by the new guest.
Big ears flicking, a long, sandy-coloured head eased out of the dark, nodding over short-stop legs.
A relieved giggle burst from Tea’s lips. “I didn’t know the MacGregors have a donkey.” She stroked the soft petals of the donkey’s nose, and like the other farm animals it didn’t shy away.
“They don’t.” Izzy propped her chin along the L of her fingers, elbow on knee.
“A bit of a wanderer, hey? What’s your name, honey?” Tea crooned.
Izzy eyed the donkey, and it bobbed its head like the silly animal was giving Izzy permission.
“Grant,” Izzy said.
“You named the donkey after Grant? That’s mean!”
Tea reached out for a reassuring pat, but the dirty-soft face wasn’t there.
“No,” said a quiet, pinched voice. “I am Grant.”
Tea gave a little screech. The boy eased between them, reaching for the billy. Was he … was he naked?
Tea leapt up. “Where did you come from? Where did the donkey go? Where are your clothes?”
“Tea, sit down,” Izzy ordered, refreshing a mug and holding it up.
“No! You tell me what’s going on here now or I’m going straight to Mr MacGregor!” Tea shook as she gave the order. She’d never been so straightforward, even with her mother when she was nursing Grandad. It wasn’t very ladylike. But now wasn’t the time for ladylike things, other than looking away from Grant’s skinny nakedness.
Izzy shrugged and passed a blanket and a tin plate of leftover damper to Grant. “Here, eat up. Changing quick must hurt.”
“It does.” Grant tugged the blanket around himself, flexed his red-knuckled hands, and glanced sideways up at Tea. He shoved the damper in his mouth like he hadn’t eaten his fill of dinner. “Come on, Tea. Sit down. I’m not going to bite.”
“I thought you went to the dance.” Tea kept on her feet out of sheer perversity. Grant wouldn’t hit her, no. Izzy might, if she followed through with her threat.
Grant shook his head and kept shovelling in food. Where did it all go on a body that was all bones?
Grant gave Izzy a look Tea couldn’t comprehend. Something old and weary. “I thought you were going to do it,” he sighed.
“Fine. Hold on.”
Tea backed away a step.
An eel splashed in the creek.
With a creak like the Nor’wester through the pines, Izzy’s flesh and bones folded inwards. Fur as black as her hair sprung along her spine, spreading rapidly over her hands and feet. Fingers and toes coalesced into claw-tipped paws. The star-freckles of her nose scattered into the bib and paws of the dog that had been following Tea that first day. Izzy’s mouth opened wide in a toothy dog grin, and her pink tongue rolled out along with the bitter-sweet scent that had dogged Tea all week.
The scent of starlight.
Tea slapped her hands to her mouth to hold bile and scream in. “Dear God in heaven,” she whispered. “You’re a weird wolf!”
“Tea, we’re—” The word Izzy said through her fearsome mouth was too mangled for Tea’s comprehension. It frightened her. It sounded Māori.
“Like you are,” Grant said, trying to sound reassuring, but Tea could only taste in her mind’s eye the white skin he hid under the blanket, the animal he hid inside himself. “For some strange reason, the power runs in your family.”
Izzy padded forward as if to greet her anew and that was it for Tea. Slipping on the crackle-dry grass, she turned and ran back towards the only other light for miles around.
4.
As the minister droned on through a prayer, Grant risked a glance down the pew. Careful had to be the natural state of things. Girls had misread these glances, and God was always watching.
Wedged between Mr MacGregor and Alison, Tea cut her stare through the edge of her eyes, the angle of her jaw taut. Grant dropped his gaze and tried to massage warmth into his knuckles. The country church exuded chill even on a sunny spring day.
Calculations danced through Grant’s head. Tea hadn’t dobbed them in to the boss, but she was using him as some sort of shield. He couldn’t quite explain the sadness such distance infused him with. He had hoped they would be friends.
The minister swung into the sermon, making words about the sacrifice of New Zealand’s good young men and how everyone had to do their piece on the home front. Grant clenched his toes. The stolid church stones mumbled to him about all the eyes that flicked over him. He was one of only a handful of men his age in the church; two of them were recuperating from injuries suffered in the line of duty, another proudly robed up in his uniform ready to depart at any moment, and the last was Mrs Mulligan’s son Dwayne, a sweet man with the mind of a five-year-old.
A strange dance ensued on the ride back to the farm. Freed from the constraints of church silence, Alison and Carmel chattered about the post bag, who was and wasn’t at church, next week’s dance. The usually loquacious Izzy kept her peace while Tea kept her distance. Tea was still learning to handle her horse, Morgan. Grant sent soothing vibrations down through the ground in the pony’s direction. Tea didn’t have to know.
What did Tea see when she looked at him? A skinny boy with a cough and pale cheeks that burned too easy?
She’s one of us.
Three, now four. Maybe three again. Maybe two, if … No, don’t think like that.