Silvermoon. A Tale of a Young Werewolf. A YA Novel. 12-18 (5 page)

Jason woke up with a start. He looked at his pocket watch, almost
midday
. He looked out of the window. The train was on a long curve and he could see a station in the distance. He had changed trains three times up to now and this last stop would be the one where the college was situated.

Chapter five
.

Brecon Beacon House.

The first thing Jason noticed as he stepped down from the train was the damp. The air was almost wet with moisture. It was however, clean, no stinking petrol or diesel fumes. The stink of burning coal from the train had been enough, but that was fading in the wind. He took a deep breath and gazed about him. The old railway station was deserted and he noticed the woodwork needed a coat of paint. The air was quite cool for early August, but that didn’t bother him, he relished the cold weather. Lucas told him elves preferred the warmer climes - even though they were just as impervious to extreme cold as werewolves were - so the chance of any elf residing in this chilly climate were quite remote.

Lucas told him he would be met at the station and that he was to wait on the platform.

He smelled the human before he heard him, a tobacco smell, mixed with soap and something peppery and mint-like. He heard him before he saw him, first the heavy breathing and then loud footsteps on a wooden floor. As the man emerged through the waiting room doorway he looked in his direction and called out, “Hello, Jason, Jason Longfellow?”

He acknowledged with a wave and held his hand out to the tubby man as he reached him, puffing and panting, wrapped in a thick anorak and wearing a multi-coloured woollen beret that hung down one side of his head. “That’s me, how do you do, Mr. er...”

The man grasped his hand, and squeezed it gently. “Wednesday is my name, Arthur Wednesday, maths teacher. Welcome to
Wales
, Jason, I understand it is your first time here.” He eyed Jason’s jeans, his leather blouson and T-shirt. “Aren’t you cold, my boy, walking around in a T-shirt?”

He took an instant liking to him, and said as he looked down at his chubby face, wrinkled with concern, “Oh yes, it is rather chilly here,” and managed to imitate a slight shiver as he zipped up his jacket.

“Come on then, a brisk walk will soon warm you up. We have quite a way to go yet.”

With his rucksack on his shoulder and his suitcase in his hand, he strolled behind Mr Wednesday. They reached the end of the platform, walked onto the road and approached a small buggy with a tired-looking pony in the traces.

He spied a young woman watching them from across the road. She was tall with long black hair that covered most of her face. She was dressed in black, with black trousers stuffed into military-styled boots. He thought of Lucas and his black attire.
Is she one of us?
But where Lucas had worn leather, her clothing, trousers and a tunic fastened at the neck, together with an ankle-length cloak, was made of some silken material that hung around her body like a shroud
and moved with the wind
.

The wind, now increasing, came to him from her direction and he caught a whiff of her scent. He hid his surprise out of instinct, this was a scent he had never come across before, an acrid odour, bitter and cloying, and he watched as she turned her back on him and walked away in the direction of the woods.

He stowed his luggage behind the seat and sat down beside Mr Wednesday who promptly covered their legs with a thick woollen blanket and then took up the reins. At a click of his tongue, the ‘tired-looking’ pony came alive and set off at an easy trot. The tubby man grinned at Jason’s surprised expression. “He used to be a race horse, a trotter; he can go quite a distance at this rate.”

On the journey there
,
he was disappointed to discover there was no swimming pool at the school, but as they arrived there over three hours later, with numerous stops in between to water the horse, he was sure he could smell fresh water nearby.

The building - a three storey, red-bricked affair - was smaller than he had imagined. Three pupils dressed in identical blazers greeted them as the buggy pulled up at the front door of the building. Wednesday climbed down and introduced them, two girls and a boy. Jason saw two girls around his age, wearing pleated skirts and white socks with sensible shoes. The boy was a few years older than him and he wore grey flannels, and a white shirt and tie that matched the girls. “May I introduce Jason? This is Ingrid; she arrived from
Germany
last year.”

A tall girl with short ginger hair and freckled features held out her hand, “Hi, Jason.”

He took it and she squeezed hard. He returned the grip. “Hi, Ingrid,” and Ingrid’s face paled. He breathed in a soft fragrance, something above her normal scent, a perfume, he imagined.

“And this is Yvette, all the way from
Cambridge
; she too is a new addition, she will be studying law with Ingrid.”

He took the slightly-built brunette’s hand and said, “How do you do?”

Her scent was strange, unusual, not like other girl’s. No fancy perfume at all, and she just smiled and blushed slightly beneath her light olive skin, which was a shade less than Jason’s.

“And this is John. He arrived from across the northern border last week, our history student.”

John may have been older, but not taller, his black hair was cropped short and his skin was sallow, and Jason noted the forced smile and suspicion in the other’s eyes as he looked Jason up and down. He held out his hand and the grip was rather weak and Jason released it as soon as he said, “Hello, John.” He also noticed the absence of natural body odour, replaced by some exotic smelling deodorant.

The other didn’t answer, he eyed Wednesday and said with a heavy Scottish accent, “I’ll show him is room.” He looked at Jason and said, “Follow me.”

He took Jason to the top floor, and opened the first door in a long corridor, “This is it. Evening meal is at five, you should find a blazer in the wardrobe to fit you, the last one here was about your size.” With that he walked away and Jason wondered at his hidden body
odour, apart from the artificial one all he could smell was his clothes, all made of cotton and his leather shoes.

Jason entered the room and his breath caught. The place stunk of some sickly smelling deodorant. He dropped his case and rucksack on the bed, rushed over and opened the window quickly, sliding it all the way up.

The meal was a frugal affair, but nourishing. It consisted of a plain, mixed salad, spit-roasted chicken-halves and whole-wheat bread with milk to drink. Each individual served themselves from the buffet at one side of a large room that contained one massive twenty-five metre-long wooden table, with over three dozen ornate, straight-backed chairs.

Over two dozen pupils, all several years younger than Jason, sat at one end of the table, some in small groups, and others in pairs. A boy and girl, siblings by their looks, looked up at him and nodded, others busied themselves with their meal, apparently finding eating a less arduous task than facing a complete stranger.

He took his place near the other end and watched as Ingrid and Yvette entered. They waved to him and after filling their plates they joined him, one on either side.

Yvette said, before they sat down, “We will join you, if you please.” She looked at the other pupils then asked him, “How old are you, Jason?”

He noticed her slight French accent and replied, “I’m twelve.”

Yvette’s eyebrows rose slightly, “I’m twelve too, though you appear much older, I would have guessed fifteen or sixteen, John is fifteen and Ingrid is thirteen.”

He smiled at each in turn. “We grow up pretty fast in our family.”

Ingrid looked at him from under her eyebrows, her voice softened as she spoke, “You are quite strong too. Do you do much sport
, athletics maybe
?”

             
Jason eyed Yvette who, for some reason, was grinning and he told Ingrid, “I grew up on a dairy farm, lots of milk and eggs. I like to run and swim, and I have no other sports.”

“There is no pool here,” said Yvette.

He asked, “Is there a river or a lake nearby?”

Ingrid said, “There is a river, but we don’t swim there.”

He smiled, “That’s good to hear, that there is a river nearby I mean. I shall go swimming there. Would you care to join me?”

Ingrid looked at Yvette and said, “I have no bathing suit, what about you?”

Yvette shook her head, “Unfortunately, no.”

He shrugged. “Neither do I, I always go in the all-together.” The girls frowned and he said, “That’s what we call it when we go swimming. We don’t wear anything.”

They both giggled. “That sounds so invigorating,” said Yvette.

She looked at Ingrid, who said, “But it is too cold now; we will wait until summer. Then we will come with you.”

He emptied his mug, and then said, “I’ll be going anyway. The cold doesn’t bother me that much, I always take a cold shower every morning, winter and summer, so what do you say, are you coming?”

Yvette looked at Ingrid and said, “I am going with him, are you coming too?”

He rose up with his empty plate, cutlery and mug and walked over to the table and set them down with the others.  Ingrid eyed Jason as he walked back and he heard her whisper to the other, “Maybe, but just to watch, I’ve never seen a boy without his clothes on.”

Jason returned and pushed his chair back under the table and said, “In half an hour, I will meet you at the front door,” and strode off.

As Ingrid left the dining hall with Yvette, she said, “I’ll see if John wants to join us.”

Yvette said, “You have your eye on him, do you not?”

“Don’t you like him?”

“I hardly know him and I do not go chasing after boys, I let them chase after me.”

“Well all the boys here, except for John are much too young for me, the oldest is eight.”

“Yes, high-minded geniuses the lot of them.”

“I’ll see if I can find John.”

“I’m going for a swim with Jason whether you come or not.”

“Oh, now who’s chasing after boys?”

“Me, in a sisterly sort of way, I like to have fun and he sounds like fun, see you later.”

“If John declines I’ll go practice basketball in the gym,” she said and watched Yvette saunter down the corridor. Ingrid missed her home in
Germany
, she missed the countryside, the hills where she would walk with her friends for hours. Maybe she could persuade this Jason fellow and John to go walking with her and Yvette.

She found John in the library; he was reading a book on Napoleon Bonaparte. “Hello, John, found something interesting?”

He looked at her then peered behind her.

She hid a smile.
As I thought he would be, he’s expecting Yvette to be with me.

He confirmed her assumption by saying, “Where’s your friend, the French girl?”

Her eyebrows rose. “You mean Yvette; she’s gone swimming with the new boy.”

His brow dropped. “With Jason?”

“Yes, they’re going swimming in the river, I thought you’d be interested, we could make a foursome.”

His forehead creased, she could see he was struggling with something. “I, er, don’t swim all too well, I, er, actually, I don’t see any fun in it. Anyway the water will be too cold.”

“Jason doesn’t think so.”