Strange Noises Fiction by Rachel Greenham

The sloop was fine, of course; but by the time we’d satisfied ourselves of that it was too hot to do anything or even contemplate walking back up the hill so we put up the awning and flaked out under its shade on the cabin roof.

“We could sail away right now, just us.” Asuti suggests dreamily.

I chuckle. “I’m tempted.” It’s not like we’re Bound to port after all. All paid up. Let the wind pull on the sails and let the deep draw us on forever.

The shadow of the boom sways across the awning from the slight movement of the boat on the harbour water. A soft clink of metal as it reaches the limit of its stayline and sways back slowly. The motion is soothing and proper.

“Why are we here anyway? It’s not like the Satthei’s coming here even if she is all right.”

“An old friend of mine and Sam’s lives here. The falcon was… a message, reminding us we need to find him and speak to him.”

“The Goddess?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Too strong an omen to ignore twice anyway.”

“Why haven’t you gone to see him yet then?”

“Nervous,” I admit. “He’s probably changed a lot since we last saw him. If he’s changed half as much as we have…” I sigh. It turns into a quiet chuckle. “He might not even recognise us. He’s a rich man now, he might think we’re just trying to get money out of him.”

“Oh. I suppose that is awkward. You’re not though, are you?”

“What?”

“Going to try to get money out of him.”

“No, ’course not. We can look after ourselves. We don’t need to beg or borrow off any islander.”

“Hey, we could start our own market fleet.”

“Heh.”

“And you could become a Satthei too.”

“No I couldn’t. I can’t even imagine how long it would take me to become the sort of person who’d want that, you know?”

“Hundreds and hundreds of years,” Asuti supplies. “I’ll be so long dead you’ll have forgotten all about me.”

“Oh, I’m never forgetting you,” I say.

“Elves can’t say never.” A variant of that proverb.

“I won’t forget you,” I insist quietly.

We fall silent, dissipating heat.

And after a while asks, “Why were you two arguing about me?”

Oh, where to begin? I take a few moments to try to find a way to say it right. No need to say I hadn’t known, that Sam had had to point it out to me. “She’s worried… She’s worried I might be, uh, influencing you to want to be a girl. More than you would otherwise.”

She doesn’t answer that. After a few minutes she sits up to look away over the water, propping herself up on one hand, her legs folded on the other side of her.

I put my arm out and rest my hand lazily against her back. “What’re you thinking?” I ask.

She just shrugs. “Don’t know.”

“Okay.”

A little later she says, “I don’t want to be a girl, I just am, I think. I was supposed to be but my body came out wrong. Does that make sense?” she asks, twisting around to look at me.

“Oh yes. It makes perfect sense.” And because of what Sam said, I’m now worrying if it makes too perfect sense. There’s a tear on my cheek, and she sees it.

“Why are you crying?”

“I’m not. I’m…” I wipe the tear away and try to compose my thoughts. “I’m just amazed you’ve got it so well figured out already.”

She shrugs again.

“How long have you felt that way?”

“Long time. Before I knew I could sing to the wind.”

“Ah, I was wondering,” I say. “In case you were thinking, ‘oh, I’m a windsinger, I must be a girl,’ and trying to make yourself be one because of that. Just because no-one’s ever heard of a male windsinger doesn’t mean you can’t be the first, you know? No-one understands why anyone becomes windsingers. Not even the Sattheis.”

She looks away again, pensive.

“And I don’t mind either way,” I say. “We’d still be friends, wouldn’t we? The main thing is be yourself. That’s what it’s all about.”

Even as I’m saying the words I know I’m lying, and Sam’s right. I want Asuti to be this way. I feel such a connection to her and it’s because of this, and it always was, even though I didn’t know it. (And she looks so pretty in her new dress.) And it’s so selfish of me to wish that on someone; especially here, where there’s nothing anyone can do to help her as her body grows into that of a man, any more than Sam can be helped, in the reverse predicament.

I hope I’ve said the right things anyway, even if it has ruined the mood. She lies down again, on her side this time with her back to me, still looking out over the water. I don’t know how to reach her like this.