military boots on his many feet.
‘That’s Gruesome Greta,’ Archie said. ‘She’s my brother’s all-time favourite character.’ He crossed the room and reached for a thin book on a shelf. Freya’s eyes glowed as she leafed through the colourful pages, filled with lots of little pictures.
‘This is wonderful,’ she said. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it!’
‘It’s just a comic book,’ Archie said. ‘Don’t they have comics where you come from?’
Freya couldn’t draw her eyes from the pages. ‘We have a few books, but they are all about war. We have nothing like this. May I keep it?’
Archie shrugged. ‘Sure, my brother has lots of them. I don’t think he’d miss that one.’ He stepped closer and pointed at a picture. ‘That’s Greta’s little brother, Scott, and his pet caterpillar, Cecil. I really like Cecil.’
Archie walked over to the closet. ‘I bet you can find some things to wear in here. I mean, if you don’t mind wearing men’s clothes. It might even help hide your wings.’
Archie pulled the long, heavy velvet coat off the door. ‘Here, try this on.’
Freya removed her sword, dagger, gauntlets and breastplate. She folded in her wings as tight as they would go and pulled on the coat.
It hung down past the top of her sheepskin boots and was several sizes too big for her. The arms draped down past her gloved hands. But the fullness of the back fit perfectly over her wings.
‘Here, let me help.’ Archie stepped forward and rolled up the sleeves. Then he lifted the collar so that it stood up around her neck. He stepped back and considered his work. ‘Not bad, not bad at all. Turn around.’
Freya turned slowly and raised her hands high over her head. ‘Well? Can you see my wings?’
Archie shook his head. ‘Nope. You just look like you’ve got a hunched back. No one would ever suspect you had wings.’
Freya looked down at herself. ‘Do I look Steampunk?’
Archie laughed too. ‘A Steampunk angel? Why not!’
Freya lifted a finger. ‘No, Archie, a Steampunk Valkyrie .’
Hours later, Freya sat in Archie’s kitchen as he made them salad and macaroni with cheese. She watched him in fascination as he prepared the food with the confidence of one who had done it many times before.
‘Are you always alone?’
Archie nodded. ‘My brother has been away two years already and my mom is rarely here. Even when she is home, it’s like she’s not.’
‘I don’t understand.’
Archie stopped what he was doing and sat at the table with her. ‘It’s like this,’ he started awkwardly. ‘My mom drinks, a lot. When it’s really bad she disappears, sometimes for weeks. She doesn’t call and won’t tell me where she’s going. But she always comes home. But sometimes, that’s even worse than when she’s gone.’
‘How can you live like this?’ Freya asked. ‘Don’t you have other family?’
Archie shook his head. ‘I’m doing all right,’ he said. ‘I earn extra money by delivering newspapers in the mornings before school. And my mother gets assistance. I use her bank card to buy food and pay the bills. A social worker visits, but not very often and she doesn’t seem to care that my mom is a drunk.’
Freya watched Archie as he rose and got back to work. His words were brave, but his inner feelings betrayed him. He was very lonely.
‘I understand, Archie. I have seen what drink can do to humans.’
Archie turned to her, inviting her to say more.
‘Where I come from, we have a place called Valhalla. Human warriors spend all day fighting, and then drink all night. My father is there, somewhere. But I’ve never met him. After seeing what drink does to them, I don’t want to.’
‘Your father is human ?’ Archie asked in shock.
Freya nodded.
‘Wow,’ he said softly. ‘We’ve both got parents with drink problems.’
Freya had never thought of it that way, but he was right. They weren’t so different after all.
Eating human food was
‘That’s Gruesome Greta,’ Archie said. ‘She’s my brother’s all-time favourite character.’ He crossed the room and reached for a thin book on a shelf. Freya’s eyes glowed as she leafed through the colourful pages, filled with lots of little pictures.
‘This is wonderful,’ she said. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it!’
‘It’s just a comic book,’ Archie said. ‘Don’t they have comics where you come from?’
Freya couldn’t draw her eyes from the pages. ‘We have a few books, but they are all about war. We have nothing like this. May I keep it?’
Archie shrugged. ‘Sure, my brother has lots of them. I don’t think he’d miss that one.’ He stepped closer and pointed at a picture. ‘That’s Greta’s little brother, Scott, and his pet caterpillar, Cecil. I really like Cecil.’
Archie walked over to the closet. ‘I bet you can find some things to wear in here. I mean, if you don’t mind wearing men’s clothes. It might even help hide your wings.’
Archie pulled the long, heavy velvet coat off the door. ‘Here, try this on.’
Freya removed her sword, dagger, gauntlets and breastplate. She folded in her wings as tight as they would go and pulled on the coat.
It hung down past the top of her sheepskin boots and was several sizes too big for her. The arms draped down past her gloved hands. But the fullness of the back fit perfectly over her wings.
‘Here, let me help.’ Archie stepped forward and rolled up the sleeves. Then he lifted the collar so that it stood up around her neck. He stepped back and considered his work. ‘Not bad, not bad at all. Turn around.’
Freya turned slowly and raised her hands high over her head. ‘Well? Can you see my wings?’
Archie shook his head. ‘Nope. You just look like you’ve got a hunched back. No one would ever suspect you had wings.’
Freya looked down at herself. ‘Do I look Steampunk?’
Archie laughed too. ‘A Steampunk angel? Why not!’
Freya lifted a finger. ‘No, Archie, a Steampunk Valkyrie .’
Hours later, Freya sat in Archie’s kitchen as he made them salad and macaroni with cheese. She watched him in fascination as he prepared the food with the confidence of one who had done it many times before.
‘Are you always alone?’
Archie nodded. ‘My brother has been away two years already and my mom is rarely here. Even when she is home, it’s like she’s not.’
‘I don’t understand.’
Archie stopped what he was doing and sat at the table with her. ‘It’s like this,’ he started awkwardly. ‘My mom drinks, a lot. When it’s really bad she disappears, sometimes for weeks. She doesn’t call and won’t tell me where she’s going. But she always comes home. But sometimes, that’s even worse than when she’s gone.’
‘How can you live like this?’ Freya asked. ‘Don’t you have other family?’
Archie shook his head. ‘I’m doing all right,’ he said. ‘I earn extra money by delivering newspapers in the mornings before school. And my mother gets assistance. I use her bank card to buy food and pay the bills. A social worker visits, but not very often and she doesn’t seem to care that my mom is a drunk.’
Freya watched Archie as he rose and got back to work. His words were brave, but his inner feelings betrayed him. He was very lonely.
‘I understand, Archie. I have seen what drink can do to humans.’
Archie turned to her, inviting her to say more.
‘Where I come from, we have a place called Valhalla. Human warriors spend all day fighting, and then drink all night. My father is there, somewhere. But I’ve never met him. After seeing what drink does to them, I don’t want to.’
‘Your father is human ?’ Archie asked in shock.
Freya nodded.
‘Wow,’ he said softly. ‘We’ve both got parents with drink problems.’
Freya had never thought of it that way, but he was right. They weren’t so different after all.
Eating human food was
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