SHE-BEAST

Eira crept on frozen toes around the quiet rooftops in her Yetirin village. Most of her species had already retreated into their burrows in anticipation of the evening storm. However, she was still at risk of being caught by one of them and turned over to her parents. Eira shivered in the cold, the incoming blizzard causing her more discomfort than usual; she should have brought the stolen pair of human shoes she kept under her bed.

Ducked low beneath the roof of the burrow ahead of her, Eira’s betrothed, Sverre, waved to her. She carefully lifted herself over one of the fifty ventilation shafts that extended air to the hive of tunnels far beneath her feet and ran to him. “What do you see?” She asked in a hushed voice.

“Wilhelm, Bore, and Hana are on watch,” Sverre whispered, his red-brown eyes scanning the wall that surrounded their hive. The wall had been crafted from polished blue ice from the sea, with images carved into its surface of the beautiful Yetra Yetirie, the first and only Yetirin female to have a second form. She stood as a beacon for all to look towards, sheathed partially in the fur of her past and the human skin she had given everything to possess.

Eira hated the wall. She had been taught it was meant to stand as a symbol of the peace her species had fought the humans and Selkie to obtain. Eira felt the wall reminded them there was an island to fear outside of it—an island she was determined to see more of before she inherited her mother’s role as clan matriarch and was trapped in the tunnels beneath it. Evading the sharp eyes of the two fur-clad males who topped the wall and the third patrolling the ground would grant her that freedom. “They should be easy to distract,” Sverre continued, his red-brown eyes scanning the wall. “You climb the wall—”

“Climb the wall?” A voice interrupted, and Eira’s fifteen-year-old brother appeared beside her. “Where are we headed?”

Eira jumped with surprise. “Casimir! What are you doing here?” She demanded, a hand pressed against her hammering heart.

Casimir grinned, his cheek dimpling. “I’m surprised you didn’t hear me sneak up on you with those big ears.” He teased, tugging on one of the long, tufted ears she had inherited from their mother, and poked from her straight black hair. “Mother sent me to find you. What’s over the wall?”

She swatted him and motioned for him to be quiet. “A waterfall.” His oil-brown eyes brightened with excitement, and she snapped at him. “Don’t give me that look. You’re not invited.”

“Why not?” he complained.

“The last time I let you tag along, it took me two days to track you to where you’d wandered off in the stone tunnels, after which Father had me mucking out the hives' latrines for a month. You can’t go.”

Casimir opened his mouth to complain, but a voice behind them cut him off mid-whine. “Neither of you can go.” Tor, Eira, and Casimir’s elder brother stalked into sight, looking furious. “Cas!” Tor snarled, grabbing their younger brother by the neck of his woven fur shirt. “What is he doing out of the hive?” Tor demanded.

“Mother sent him to find me.” Eira hissed, jerking them into a crouch behind the burrow before he could finish interrogating them.

Tor groaned, pushing his hair out of his brown eyes. “Did either of you listen to a single thing Father said?” He asked irritably.

Eira rolled her eyes. She, Sverre, and Tor had been kneeling around the table in their childhood burrow when the matriarchs had summoned their parents to an urgent meeting. However, before their father had left, he’d given the three of them a long, serious look as if daring them to do something stupid. “I heard what he said,” Eira snapped. “Remain here and study, or so help me; you will be sitting at that table until your hair turns white,” she repeated, “which is why I’m trying not to get caught. So would you shut up?”

Sverre bent to their level. “Cas is going to follow us whether we bring him along or not.” He added. “Better he’s with us, where I can keep an eye on him, rather than leave him here unsupervised and risk him giving us away or causing an avalanche.”

“Stars…” Tor rubbed his hands across his face. “You’re going to get us into trouble.”

“Us?” Eira demanded. “You aren’t invited.”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m never invited, and yet I’m always the one pulling you out of trouble or getting punished along with you.”

She scoffed. “It isn’t my fault the future war chief is a meddler.”

Tor filled the little space that had been between them. “I wouldn’t need to be if our clan’s future matriarch wasn’t such an attention-seeking cub!” He snapped back, his shoulder-length brown hair tickling her face.

Eira rolled her eyes. “Unlike you, Tor, I’d like to see these mountains before I’m trapped inside them.” It was always the same fight. He wanted her to be more responsible, and she needed him to lighten up; he’d actually been fun once.

Tor grabbed Sverre’s forearm. “Continuing these excursions is going to get her hurt.”

Sverre, who towered over her brother, held his gaze for a single breath. “Lighten up, Tor,” Sverre responded and broke his grip. “I have claws to protect her.”

Eira froze, expecting Tor to reach for the large icicle to his right and impale Sverre with it, but he didn’t move; he barely breathed. Eira motioned for Sverre to seek shelter behind her, and he exasperatedly obeyed. Tor glared at the burrow over her head, his skin paler than usual. Yetirin males were known across the island for the silky fur coats of their second forms and their claws, which were usually inherited during their transition from cub to male. At nineteen, Tor was far beyond a late bloomer. It had created an uncomfortable amount of animosity between him and the other males his age. Tor looked as though he might vomit. “Tor—” she started.

He raised a hand, stalling her. “Burrow, now.” He growled.

“Tor—”

“Now, Eira!” He barked. “Or I go find Father.”

Eira gritted her teeth, her nostrils flaring with frustration as she glared up into her brother’s stubborn eyes. Tor wasn’t going to back down. She either went with him now, or he’d tattle on her to their father, and the punishment would likely be back-breaking labor. She pursed her lips and glanced at Sverre, who shrugged with exasperation, his expression one of defeat. He wasn’t going to stand up to Tor for her, and while she respected that he let he fight her own fights, in this moment she resented him for it. “Fine.” She snapped, turned on her heels, and marched in the direction of her family’s burrow. She heard Sverre sigh, disappointedly, but he did not chase after her. “You are such a spoil sport.” Eira hissed at Tor as he and Cas caught up with her.

He sniffed. “And you’re a spoiled brat.”

She threw herself in front of him, her nose level with his chin. “That is not fair, Tor!”

He walked into her, shoving his chest against hers as he backed her up. She stumbled, but he caught her before she lost her footing. “I am responsible for protecting you, Eira.” He nearly shouted in her face. “Until you are joined with Sverre…and even after. I am responsible. That is my role. That is my duty. That is my honor.”

“I disagree.” She replied stubbornly, forcing her expression not to expose how his words had touched her. She was used to him being boorish and stone-headed, but she was glad to learn it was in pursuit of her safety rather than a desire to stunt her.  

He released her and pushed her from his path. “Be an idiot then. I give up trying to save you from yourself.”

Tor walked past them, leaving Eira to look at Cas, who snorted. “He’s just being dramatic. Don’t fret, he’ll be back to spoiling our fun in no time.” Eira smiled and allowed Cas to turn her back in the direction of their burrow with the arm he threw over her shoulder. Eira and Cas followed Tor down the steps into the burrow’s thick outer door of ice and into the warm interior of the burrow.

The ceiling was rounded and carved with waves of the sea. The white-ice walls of the burrow's main living space had been smoothed and decorated with reflective fish scales that her mother had meticulously placed in cascading spirals and reflected the light from the burrow's central hearth. Beyond the hearth was a pantry filled with her family’s month's worth of rations from the hive's central storehouse of supplies gathered through fishing and scavenging. Next to that was a room Eira shared with her brothers, and next to it was the room their parents shared; the interiors of both rooms were blocked from her view by long doors woven from her father’s black fur.

Eira closed the door, and the three of them paused as the two voices reached them from a corridor that connected the door opposite them to the rest of the Yetirin hive. The voices belonged to her parents. “This is far beyond urgent,” the matriarch was saying to Eira’s father.

Eira looked to Cas, who had stopped beside her. “What are they saying?” He asked, tapping his rounded ear and indicating his desire for her to use her longer ears to benefit from her more sensitive hearing. Creeping to the door, she tucked her long black hair behind her sharp ear and pressed it against the cold, carved door of ice. Tor groaned from the other side of the room, which quickly turned to a hiss when Cas smacked his arm to quiet him.

Eira’s brow creased as she listened. “It sounds as though someone escaped,” she whispered, her ears still trained on the conversation outside.

Her mother sounded flustered. “He was raised in the hole he was held in, Borya. He doesn’t know the customs of our species or how to blend in with them. We should alert the other clans that Heart lost the boy—”

“Calm yourself, Osana.” Eira’s father interrupted calmly. “He doesn’t know how to navigate the tunnels of the hive, and if he were to possibly escape them, he does not know the mountain nearly as well as the Yetirin males under my command. He will be located.”

“But if the Selkie find him first—” Eira heard her mother shriek.

“They won’t,” Eira’s father interrupted. Eira yelped with surprise as the door pushed her off her feet, and she was forced to scramble away on all fours to prevent herself from being squashed. “Eira,” her father said enter the burrow. “I’m surprised to find you home and not off in some trouble with Sverre. Why are you listening at the door?”

She grimaced, guiltily up at him from the floor. “Eavesdropping.” She admitted and shrank beneath the furious look her mother cast as she stormed through the doorway.

The matriarch was tall and lean, with cunningly delicate features. Eira had inherited her sharp eyes and silky black hair, along with her tufted, angular ears, but not the full cheeks that gave her mother’s face its youthful glow. “Eira!” she seethed. “Did you learn nothing from the last punishment you received from eavesdropping?”

Eira backed away from her on all fours. “I still don’t think I deserved to be punished for that one. All the other matriarchs’ heirs were invited to the meeting, and it wasn’t as though you were discussing anything secret…Broad Manes' matriarch fell asleep halfway through, and Hearts' matriarch didn’t even stay to the end—”

“That was not the point, Eira!” Her mother interrupted. “I barred you from that meeting because you weren’t ready for the meeting, and your disobedience both then and now has proved that!” 

Eira huffed irritably. “Tor hasn’t even been named as father's heir to his title as war chief, and he was still invited,” Eira argued. “I’ve been in matriarch training for three years!”

Across the room, her elder brother clicked his tongue, drawing Eira’s attention. “Maybe it’s because you’ve been deemed irresponsible, reckless, argumentative, cantankerous, problematic—” He listed, trailing off with a pointed look.

Eira’s lashes narrowed. “Shut up, Tor.” She yelped as her mother bent to pull on the tufted end of Eira’s ear.

“That is enough.” The black fur of her mother’s robe trembled, and all but the long pointer finger of her right hand curled into a fist. “Eira, you weren’t invited to the meeting and are barred from all future meetings until I say otherwise. Tor, mock your sister again, and the two of you will rot in this burrow.”

From the doorway, Eira’s father released a tired chuckle. “Well, I leave you three in the very capable hands of your mother. I’m going to sleep.” He kissed his mate as he walked past the burrow's central fire, rubbing his eyes, which were still puffy from his shift patrolling the hive's outer wall the previous night.  He cast Eira a secret smile as he passed her, amusement at her predicament in his eyes, and she smiled fondly back. Then, he tussled Cas and Tor’s hair as he passed them and disappeared into his room, where they heard him cast himself onto his bed.

Eira’s mother loosened her hold on Eira’s ear as she dropped into a crouch opposite her, her expression suddenly as tired as Eira’s father's. “I’m sorry.” She said, smoothing Eira’s sensitive ear-hairs back into place before meeting Eira’s curious gaze. “There is so much more at play in our tribe—clans are keeping secrets from one another, and I find myself desiring to protect you three from it.” She looked from Eira to Cas and Tor. “Call me a foolish female, but I will sleep better the longer your minds are unburdened with trials of our tribe.” She stood, and her heavy fur robe dropped back to cover her bare feet. “Hera is waiting for me to return to Heart's tunnels to speak with her.”

Eira frowned at the name of Hearts' matriarch, as her mother walked back to the open doorway. “Who is he?” Eira called, unable to curb her curiosity. “The male who escaped?”

Her mother’s expression flickered dangerously, and she tapped a filed nail against the stone door handle, as if calculating the risk of sharing anything with her. “A threat,” she relented, before pointing at each of them. “Behave.” She released them from her stony glare and closed the door.

Eira glanced back at Cas, who was frowning pensively, and then looked to Tor. “Did you know they’d already returned home when you came to get me?” she asked.

“Just be glad you heeded me.” He answered and stalked past their parents’ room to the one the three siblings shared at the back of the burrow.

Eira glanced back at Cas as their brother left. “He definitely knew.” Cas assessed, and Eira nodded in agreement. The rest of the evening passed with little excitement. Eira and her brothers cooked a dinner of seared walrus meat and kelp soup, then scrubbed the dishes they used clean in the snow. Their mother returned just before bedtime, ate the food they had saved for her, and retired to bed. Tor and Eira were soon to follow her, dragging Cas along with them. Eira had been in bed an hour, listening to Tor’s soft snoring and Cas’s fidgeting restlessly, when a quiet knocking tickled her ears.

Eira’s hearing sharpened at the sound. Tap, tap, tap. Stop. Tap, tap, tap. She sat up, holding her breath as she glanced at her brothers. Tap, tap, tap. She slid from her bed, tiptoed from the room, and sprinted to the burrow door that led to the world outside. Once at the door, she eased it open a crack and found Sverre with his hair whipping in the wind. “Parents asleep?” Sverre asked, in a low whisper her father’s sensitive ears would not hear.

“Yes.” She answered, through the crack. “What are you doing here?”

“Picking you up.” He grinned and extended a hand to her. “Come on, with everyone asleep, there’s no one to stop us from reaching the falls.”

She opened the door farther and eagerly leaned toward him, but then hesitated. She looked back toward her room, where Tor was softly snoring. “Do you think we could make it there and back before anyone noticed we were gone?” She asked.

She turned back to Sverre, who nodded. “I think we could make it there and back, no problem.” He extended his hand to her again and wiggled his fingers. She took the hand, pulled the door closed behind her, and the pair escaped the burrow. “How much of a tongue lashing did Tor give you?” Sverre asked as they hurried toward the hive wall.

She shrugged. “It was bearable. And get this, all the years he’s messed up our plans was because he was concerned for my safety. “

“Baffling.” Sverre scoffed.

She smiled, but it didn’t retain its warmth. “I wish you wouldn’t have insulted Tor earlier.”

Sverre’s mouth tightened in a grimace. “I know you hate it,” he whispered, his expression uncomfortable. “But Tor needs someone to push him in ways your father hasn’t, or he may never claim his second form. And you need to be brave enough to stand up to him.”

Eira snatched her hand away from him. “I stand up to him just fine, and are you trying to pass off insulting him as helpful?”

Sverre grinned ruefully. “Yes. A Yetirin’s first transformation is spurred by their frustration and pride. The more I irritate him and undermine his maleness, the sooner he transforms and attempts to beat me to a pulp. Call it bonding with my future brother. If he doesn’t thank me for it later, I’ll apologize. Deal?” Eira pursed her lips, but a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “Deal?” Sverre urged, grinning broader.

“Deal,” she relented, and let him pull her against his warm side.

He chuckled smugly and kissed her brow. “I’ll distract Wilhelm, Bore, and Hana while you climb the wall, and I’ll meet you at the base of the hill, where the shoulders of the mountains meet.”

She pecked a kiss on his shoulder. “You had better not be long,” she warned him; he was so chatty that she was at risk of losing him to this distraction for a half-hour or longer. He nodded obediently, ducked around the burrow, and jogged to the left side of the wall. She heard Sverre call to the males in his usual boisterous greeting, and her smile widened as she watched the huge, fur-coated males leave the section of wall closest to her unwatched as they turned to salute him.

“What are you doing out here?” She heard Wilhelm shout in greeting. “Where’s Eira?”

“She’s been in her burrow all evening,” Sverre replied, telling a half-truth. Wilhelm snorted and sat with his legs dangling over the edge of the wall.

“I’m surprised you aren’t scratching at her door to be let in,” Hana called next. “What’s keeping you?”

“Tor’s there,” Sverre grimaced, and his friends chuckled with amusement. Eira rolled her eyes as she crept around another ventilation shaft, her bare feet stinging from being stationary in the snow for so long. As far as she could see, her path to the wall was now clear. Eira pulled the hem of her long black robe, woven from her father’s Yetirin fur, through her legs and up around her waist to tie it while she listened to Sverre chuckle.

“He really knows how to work them, doesn’t he?” Casimir whispered, his chin bumping her head as he peered over her. Eira nearly shrieked and whirled to face him, utterly baffled how he had snuck up on her a second time. He chuckled at her expression and flicked her left ear. “Really, what are these for if you don’t use them? And why does Sverre keep shaking out his hair—?”

“Shh,” she reprimanded, swatting the back of her hand against his mouth. “That’s the signal—and don’t you dare follow me.” She ducked out from under his chin and ran from the shelter of the burrows while the males were distracted to the carved wall, protectively encasing the Yetirin world from the unfriendly humans who lurked at the mountain’s base. Handholds had been carved into its intricate surface for climbing; they were usually used only by the males her father commanded, but today, they offered her escape. She climbed, and, annoyingly, Casimir was a step behind her. Above them, Hana retreated a step from the group that had gathered above Sverre.

“Hana!” Sverre cried, and Eira froze, her right palm extended. She was close to the smoothed top edge of the wall. “Eira said they were discussing betrothals earlier this week at the matriarch meeting. If you work up the courage to propose to Eira’s cousin a second time, I recommend bringing a shield! Lena sounded ready to claw your eyes out!” The wall vibrated as Hana dropped to Sverre’s side, the others crowing in amusement as Sverre dodged the anticipated strike. Taking advantage of the distraction, Eira pulled herself over the edge and fell to the other side. She landed in powder-soft snow. Casimir, a second behind her. The pair went still, listening for any sign that the males had heard them. Eira gazed around her at the trees, whose bodies were so thickly coated in ice and snow that they looked like hunched giants, and the black mountain rock that appeared to be clawing its way up through the ice. The mountain was quiet.

The wind whipped Casimir’s dark hair as he pushed himself to his feet. “Where are we going exactly?” he asked her, brushing snow from his hands.

She swatted at him. “You shouldn’t be going anywhere!” she hissed. He only laughed, boyishly, and dodged the second swat she aimed at him. Sighing, she climbed to her feet. “Sverre said it was down the hill, where the two mountains touch,” she said, then yelped as Casimir grabbed her arm, yanking her away from the wall as something hard dropped beside her. Eira slapped a hand across her mouth in an attempt to muffle her scream.