Ravensborough (7 page)

Mostly the city was laid out like any other. Small localised shops jostled with international chains. The architecture was quite old but this wasn’t unusual in Europe. What was unusual was that every so often, for no apparent reason, a pair of iron gates were set into the wall. They were open but, if they were closed, they would have stopped people from journeying any further down the road. Sometimes the iron gates were missing, but the giant hinges that had once held them in place were still seen on the buildings that stood on each side of the street.

‘Why are there so many gates?’ I asked Aradia.

‘They were used in the old days to section off different parts of the city, when the religious divisions were particularly bad. They keep them now so that, if rioting does break out, they can close the gates and stop it spreading to other areas.’

After walking for around twenty minutes or so, we came to a small gate, around the size of a door, set between two buildings. Aradia opened the gate, which squeaked loudly, and gestured for me to follow her.

Behind the gate was a steep set of steps set into rock. Aradia hopped up them lightly, as lithe as a mountain goat, but I walked up them carefully. They were damp, with dark green moss clinging to some parts of the stone, and I was afraid I would slip. The iron handrail was engraved with a beautiful pattern of leaves, but it was damp too. It was a relief when we finally reached the last step and opened another gate and stepped onto another street.

‘Welcome to the Pagan Old Quarter.’ The street was narrow, and had a winding medieval character. The hill that the quarter sat on was so steep that the upper levels were reached by a series of steep steps, like the ones we’d come up. On the eastern edge of the hill on a high point, stood the Castleost, a fortress that overlooked Lady’s Lake and the rest of the city. I recognised it from my guidebook.

The shops were similar to the ones in the city quarter we had just left behind. Cafes and clothes shops, newsagents and restaurants. As we walked towards the castle I saw new shops nestled between them. Angel shops, shops selling nothing but herbs and, like Ben had told me, working forges.

‘Do you mind if we pop in here?’ Aradia asked as we came to a shop that proclaimed itself to be Ravensborough’s oldest chandlery.

‘Not at all. But what’s a chandlery?’

‘It’s the old name for a candle making shop,’ Aradia replied pushing open the door of the shop.

I followed her inside. I’d never seen so many types of candle in the one place before. There was every colour imaginable, and dozens of different shades. They were all different shapes, and they ranged in size from tea lights up to thick candles that were taller than me.

Aradia picked out four thick candles, about the height and width of a jar of coffee. They were different colours: blue, green, yellow and red.

‘Some of these are really pretty’, I said to Aradia, my hand skimming one that was intricately carved in the shape of a rose.

My eye caught a small thin candle, no taller than my hand. It was the pale colour of beeswax, and there were small horizontal black lines along the edge of it, marking space. The side was marked with roman numerals. The base was marked I and at the top of the candle there was XXIV, twenty four.

‘What’s that?’ I asked Aradia.

She peered over at what I was looking at. ‘Oh, that? It’s a clock candle. You light it, and it takes roughly an hour for the wax between each line to melt. It was an old way of keeping the time when the sun wasn’t out.’

‘There can’t be much use for those nowadays though, surely?’ I said.

‘You’d be surprised,’ Aradia smiled, as she paid for her candles.

We walked further up the hill, winding around the other side until we lost sight of Lady’s Lake. We passed shops with notices in the window, saying that there were sales on chalices, goddess statues, candles, broomsticks. And yet, there in the middle of it all was a Starbucks. It was a strange mixture of the familiar and the unfamiliar. At the end of the street stood a huge granite building. It was at least a hundred years old, probably more. In the grounds was a statue of a woman, dressed in ancient robes. Her arm was outstretched, and on this outstretched arm was perched a stone owl. A sign outside was engraved with the name of the institution: Ravensborough Minervan Academy for Girls, Day and Boarding School.

‘That’s your school, right?’ I asked as we passed it by.

Aradia scrunched up her nose. ‘Yep. That’s it.’

‘Do you not like it there?’

Aradia shrugged. ‘It’s alright. I’d prefer to go to the school near where I live, though. That’s where most of my friends go. Minerva is a good school, but it’s heavy on the academic and really political. They want to produce students that are high achievers, that will go into the big corporations in Northport and Camelot and become politicians. Who’ll work to make Paganism a leading force in our country. And I’m just not that kind of person. Like I said, I’m only there to work on controlling and my magic side. Other than that...’

‘What do you want to do when you leave school?’

‘Study archaeology, like my Dad. Though my Mum says I have a natural talent for healing so...let’s just say I’m kind of undecided. What about you?’

‘I don’t know’, I admitted as we passed a small temple, dedicated to the god Thor. There were so many strange things to look at in this part of town. ‘Moving here was such a big upheaval. I don’t even know what country I’ll be in when I finish school, let alone what university or course I’ll do.’

‘Do you want to go back to Ireland?’

‘My boyfriend’s there.’

Aradia nodded her head. ‘You’re doing the whole long distance thing?’

‘Yeah, we’re trying to. I'm going to see him after Christmas. It seems a long way away right now. What about you? Is there anyone special in your life?’

‘No one I’d miss too much if I had to move overseas. Hurry up, we’re almost there.’

I pulled up my hood to protect myself from the icy wind that blew around the hill. My ears and fingers were completely numb.

Aradia turned into another set of narrow steps flanked by two buildings. Halfway up, there was a bright blue door set into the wall. Aradia pulled her coat sleeve up to look at her watch. ‘It’s almost eleven, so we’re early, which is fairly unusual for me.’ She knocked on the door.

There was no answer. Aradia sighed and hammered on the door harder. Still no one came to the door. She kicked the bottom of the door with her boot so hard that small blue flakes of dried paint floated slowly to the ground. There was the sound of steps from within. And the door was opened wide. A familiar looking guy was standing in the doorway. He was naked to the waist, and he was wearing a pair of sweatpants that had obviously been slept in. His hair was glossy black and stuck up in rakish angles from his head. His eyes were dark and he was glaring at Aradia.

‘Did we get you up?’ she asked sweetly with her head on one side. ‘I’m sorry’.

And then I recognised him. Standing right in front of us was Gethan Ellis.

I’d never really believed in fate before, but this was freaky. If I was of a romantic persuasion – and if I was single – I could imagine that this was the universe’s way of throwing me together with someone. But I needed to get real here. Apart from the fact that I was with Sam, it also looked like Gethan was with Aradia, although he didn’t exactly look thrilled to see her. Maybe they had one of those tempestuous relationships where they were at each other’s throats all the time.

Gethan leaned against the door with one arm outstretched. ‘You’re early,’ he said dryly, raising an eyebrow at Aradia.

‘Somebody’s got to get you out of bed’, Aradia said ducking under his arm and entering the house. She walked through a doorway behind him, out of sight. He had a tattoo on the inside of his forearm, but in the gloom I couldn’t make out what it was.

Gethan flicked his eyes over at me. I didn’t know what to do. These two looked so comfortable together that it made me feel like an intruder.

Gethan looked at me with sleepy eyes. ‘Sorry, I’m half asleep. Come on in.’

I walked inside and he closed the door behind me. He looked at me closely. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but have we met before?’

I nodded. ‘Yeah, at the protest at Guinevere Plaza.’

He smacked his hand against his forehead. ‘Of course! You’re Scarlett, right? Newly arrived from Ireland?’

‘That’s it. And you’re Ethan?’ I don’t know why I pretended to forget his name. It was almost like I was making a play for him, and that was so far from the truth.

‘Gethan,’ he put out a hand for me to shake. For someone who was half naked, he was surprisingly formal. I took his hand. It was dry, strong and warm. He stepped back, allowing me to enter the house. ‘Kitchen’s straight through that way’, he said inclining his head towards the doorway Aradia had disappeared through. ‘I’ll be down when I put on some clothes.’ With that, he ran upstairs.

The decor in the house was dated. Floral wallpaper adorned the walls, the edges peeling away slightly. All the pieces of furniture were mismatched-it looked like everything was bought from second hand stores. Despite this, the place had a warm and homely feel to it.

I walked through to the kitchen where Aradia was making a pot of coffee. She located the ground coffee, opening the cupboard doors with the confidence of someone who was comfortable there. She shrugged off her coat, revealing a dark black wool jumper that clung to her like a glove, and emphasised her pallor. ‘Do you drink coffee?’ she smiled at me, the elfin angles of her face creating shadows in the little light that came through the small kitchen window. The room was furnished simply and sparsely. The pine table that was pushed against the far wall had just two chairs pushed against it.

‘Yeah, I do.’ I sat down awkwardly on one of the pine chairs and leaned my head against the wall. I was sure my hair was in a mess from the wind. If I’d known that we were going to visit Gethan I would have made more of an effort with my appearance, at the very least I would have braided my hair so that it wouldn’t have been thrown everywhere. The realisation that I wanted Gethan to find me attractive made an unwelcome appearance in my head. Unsettled, I tried to push the butterflies I felt in the pit of my stomach to one side. Why did it even matter? I was in a relationship with Sam. I'd be seeing him after Christmas. Why was I here, in a part of town I shouldn’t be in, with a girl who believed she had magical powers finding myself lusting after someone who may very well be her boyfriend?

I heard a sound like an elephant falling down the stairs and Gethan strode into the kitchen. If I’d hoped another look at him would convince me that I wasn’t attracted to him I was sorely disappointed. He was wearing navy coloured cargo pants, heavy boots and a dark green hoodie, which brought out the deep golden colour of his skin. His hair had been brushed into something halfway normal.

He took a cup from the draining board and poured some coffee into it. He sat down on the other chair opposite me.

‘So, Scarlett’, he said leaning back on his chair and looking at me appraisingly, ‘How did you meet Aradia?’

‘Actually, she’s family,’ Aradia said as she placed my cup on the table in front of me.

Gethan looked disbelievingly at me and then at Aradia, obviously taking in the differences between us. Her hair was dark, smooth and glossy as a raven wing, her skin almost translucent and she was almost as tall as Gethan himself. I on the other hand, had deep red hair that had a life of its own. My skin was almost as pale, but was interrupted by clusters of freckles which no amount of concealer could reduce. And height wise, I leaned towards the shorter end of average. We bore no resemblance to each other at all.

Aradia seemed to notice this and crossed her arms across her chest defensively. ‘She is family. She’s my cousin.’

Gethan raised his eyebrow at me. ‘Cousins?’

I was secretly delighted that Aradia had taken to me so much in such a short space of time. ‘My mother is engaged to her uncle’, I explained, ‘So we’ll be step-cousins fairly soon.’

‘Uncle Rupert, hmmm? So you live in the suburbs?’

‘Yeah. Chesterfield.’

Gethan whistled under his breath. ‘I knew he had money, but not that he was that wealthy. He must have chilled out a good bit if he’s letting you hang around with the angel of darkness over there.’ He nodded in Aradia’s direction.

Aradia rolled her eyes at him.

‘Actually, he doesn’t know I’m here’, I admitted. ‘Aradia said she wanted to give me a Pagan field trip.’

Gethan gave me a searching look. ‘Funny, even though I know you’re Irish I get a feeling you’re connected with Scotland...’

‘Kind of,’ I said, surprised. ‘My dad came from there.’

‘He’s not here though, is he? He’s passed away.’

I nodded reluctantly. How did he know?

Before he could say anything else, Aradia interrupted him. ‘You needn’t try to impress her with your psychic, nay
psycho
, talents Geth. What we have before us is a sssceptic.’ She hissed the word, emphasising the s sounds. ‘Instead of being overwhelmed by your top-of-your-class ability to delve into people’s energetic frequencies, she will believe that you have a stalking ability of the type usually found only in serial killers. Added to the fact that nobody knows where she actually is, she’s probably beginning to feel fairly uneasy right now. Am I right Scarlett?’

When she said it like that, the whole situation did seem kind of dodgy. I mean, yeah I liked Aradia. There was something about her that I found endearing and magnetic. Apart from Mei, she was the only one I could talk to easily, without watching what I said. And Gethan, Sam or no Sam, was one of the hottest guys that I had ever seen. I wanted to spend the rest of the day with them, and didn’t want to offend either of them, but the whole magic/psychic thing was just too unreal to countenance. Cat’s explanation of Aradia’s eye change was probably the correct one. And although Gethan’s pronouncements had seemed scarily accurate, in reality he hadn’t told me anything that couldn’t be discovered by checking my Facebook account. But they were nice people, if somewhat deluded. I decided that I was perfectly safe.