Prologue
It had started like any other day. The boy couldn't wait to get out of the house and head to the beach at Applecross Bay. It was his favorite place in the world and nothing or no one could keep him away.
"Don't go in the water, all right? You'll catch a cold. And keep an eye on your brother." The boy's mother called after him from the veranda but he barely reacted, just kept his eyes fixed on the horizon. "Did you hear me?"
"Yes, mom." He took his little brother by the hand and dragged him along the narrow pathway through the dunes, around the s-bend uphill until their mother was out of view and they reached the crest of the hillock that stood between them and the windswept beach. He was twelve years old, old enough to know not to go into the icy waters. Old enough to take his brother to the beach. Not that his mother had realized that fact – she still acted like he was a baby.
It was chilly and cloudy, a typical Scottish summer's day, but the boys were used to it. Applecross Bay was where they were born, where they belonged.
"Shall we finish that sand castle?" asked the smaller of the two, who couldn't have been older than seven or eight years old, looking up at his older brother with big blue eyes.
"Don't be stupid, the tide will have washed everything away overnight," the older boy responded.
"So we start again. Make a better one?"
The older boy shrugged. "You do it."
"Okay, I will."
They walked on further, downhill and finally across the damp sand until they almost reached the water. The beach was vast and pretty much empty, like most of the surrounding countryside. Some might say this place was desolate or lonely, but to anyone who knew better it was magical and full of endless possibilities.
The older boy let go of his kid brother's hand and watched as he ran the rest of the way, plastic bucket and spade in hand, ready to leave his mark on the landscape. Let him build another stupid sand castle. Let it get destroyed again when the high tide rolls in.
He had other ideas, as he tightened his grip around the net in his hand. He was going to climb the cliffs that marked the edge of the beach and catch some dinner. Sandcastles were for kids, but gathering food, that was a much more respectable and grown-up activity.
A quick look back at where his brother had started digging in the sand revealed that all was still as it should be. The beach was empty as always. Why was his mother so paranoid about them coming out here? It made no sense. Nothing ever happened here, and his little brother knew better than to get into the treacherous waters.
So he pushed onward against the strong winds coming in from the sea, straight towards the shiny black cliffs where he knew a lot of crabs and other wildlife liked to hide. He had seen a lobster there previously, and today was the day he would catch it. He was determined.
Anyone could pick up crabs from the beach; that required no skill. But lobsters were a lot more skittish and cunning.
The boy's determination grew as he clambered up the slippery rocks heading for the crevice where he'd seen his prey before. If only he could shift already, it would make things like climbing up rocks a lot easier. But he wasn't ready yet.
It was around the thirteenth year that the bear side would become strong enough to assert itself. How he wished he could just skip this last year and become fully bear already. But time neither waited nor sped up for anyone, unfortunately.
From the corner of his eye, the boy saw a movement. An animal? Perhaps a bird, trying to hunt for the same thing as him?
Looking back down at the beach, he saw his little brother was completely oblivious to anything around him. He just kept filling his little bucket and turning it over to make turret shaped piles of sand, haphazardly positioned next to each other. It was childish. Amateurish.
So the older boy once again focused on the task at hand. He wasn't about to give up that lobster to a seagull or
It had started like any other day. The boy couldn't wait to get out of the house and head to the beach at Applecross Bay. It was his favorite place in the world and nothing or no one could keep him away.
"Don't go in the water, all right? You'll catch a cold. And keep an eye on your brother." The boy's mother called after him from the veranda but he barely reacted, just kept his eyes fixed on the horizon. "Did you hear me?"
"Yes, mom." He took his little brother by the hand and dragged him along the narrow pathway through the dunes, around the s-bend uphill until their mother was out of view and they reached the crest of the hillock that stood between them and the windswept beach. He was twelve years old, old enough to know not to go into the icy waters. Old enough to take his brother to the beach. Not that his mother had realized that fact – she still acted like he was a baby.
It was chilly and cloudy, a typical Scottish summer's day, but the boys were used to it. Applecross Bay was where they were born, where they belonged.
"Shall we finish that sand castle?" asked the smaller of the two, who couldn't have been older than seven or eight years old, looking up at his older brother with big blue eyes.
"Don't be stupid, the tide will have washed everything away overnight," the older boy responded.
"So we start again. Make a better one?"
The older boy shrugged. "You do it."
"Okay, I will."
They walked on further, downhill and finally across the damp sand until they almost reached the water. The beach was vast and pretty much empty, like most of the surrounding countryside. Some might say this place was desolate or lonely, but to anyone who knew better it was magical and full of endless possibilities.
The older boy let go of his kid brother's hand and watched as he ran the rest of the way, plastic bucket and spade in hand, ready to leave his mark on the landscape. Let him build another stupid sand castle. Let it get destroyed again when the high tide rolls in.
He had other ideas, as he tightened his grip around the net in his hand. He was going to climb the cliffs that marked the edge of the beach and catch some dinner. Sandcastles were for kids, but gathering food, that was a much more respectable and grown-up activity.
A quick look back at where his brother had started digging in the sand revealed that all was still as it should be. The beach was empty as always. Why was his mother so paranoid about them coming out here? It made no sense. Nothing ever happened here, and his little brother knew better than to get into the treacherous waters.
So he pushed onward against the strong winds coming in from the sea, straight towards the shiny black cliffs where he knew a lot of crabs and other wildlife liked to hide. He had seen a lobster there previously, and today was the day he would catch it. He was determined.
Anyone could pick up crabs from the beach; that required no skill. But lobsters were a lot more skittish and cunning.
The boy's determination grew as he clambered up the slippery rocks heading for the crevice where he'd seen his prey before. If only he could shift already, it would make things like climbing up rocks a lot easier. But he wasn't ready yet.
It was around the thirteenth year that the bear side would become strong enough to assert itself. How he wished he could just skip this last year and become fully bear already. But time neither waited nor sped up for anyone, unfortunately.
From the corner of his eye, the boy saw a movement. An animal? Perhaps a bird, trying to hunt for the same thing as him?
Looking back down at the beach, he saw his little brother was completely oblivious to anything around him. He just kept filling his little bucket and turning it over to make turret shaped piles of sand, haphazardly positioned next to each other. It was childish. Amateurish.
So the older boy once again focused on the task at hand. He wasn't about to give up that lobster to a seagull or
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