The Key (48 page)

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Authors: Sara B. Elfgren & Mats Strandberg

BOOK: The Key
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Minoo is thankful that her hair hides her ears. She thinks of everything she can’t tell him: the cross, the skull, the box. Things she actually
wants
to tell him.

‘I believe he has been away for a whole year,’ Walter says. ‘That’s right, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, it is.’

What does Walter know? Have the guardians told him about the nature of Nicolaus’s mission? Why would they
not
have told him?

‘It must have been hard for you all,’ Walter observes.

Minoo nods silently.

What if this is a test? He is offering her one last chance to tell him the truth before he confronts her with the fact that he knows it already and demands that she hands over the skull and the cylinders.

‘I do understand that Nicolaus isn’t likely to have much confidence in the Council, given his history,’ Walter says. ‘But, if you see him, please give him my regards.’

‘I will, of course,’ Minoo replies.

Walter opens the window, then turns and looks up at the ceiling.

‘Viktor, don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re eavesdropping. Come on, you! Off you fly!’

The blue tit hastily flies out through the window and finds an apple tree to perch in. Minoo had completely forgotten about it.

Walter closes the window and turns back to her.

‘You can see if someone has been blessed by the demons, can’t you?’

‘I can see when the Blessed One uses their demonic magic,’ she tells him. ‘And, when I use my own magic, I can see the actual blessing.’

Walter looks intrigued.

‘What does it look like?’

‘Like a black light. A black halo.’

‘Can you see other forms of magic, too?’

‘It has only happened once. When I healed Clara.’

‘Very interesting. Why haven’t you explored this further?’

‘I … don’t know,’ Minoo says.

Walter looks thoughtfully at her. ‘Could the answer be that the other Chosen Ones make you afraid of your own powers? That perhaps they haven’t allowed you to practise?’

Minoo is not sure what to say. True, they haven’t exactly encouraged her to work with her magic.

‘People are always frightened of those who are different,’ Walter says. ‘I have my own experiences of that. The worst thing about it is that one loses heart oneself. I was just like you when I was young, Minoo. I wasted such a lot of time trying to conform. I truly regret that. Even so, I was only an exceptionally strong natural witch. You are unique. More powerful than anyone else. I understand that it might frighten you, but we must put an end to that now.’

She feels that Walter is seeing straight through her. Minoo’s ears go hot again.

‘I am not afraid,’ she tells him. ‘At least, I was in the beginning, but … I just feel that I can’t always control it.’

‘I think it sounds as if you’re afraid.’

He takes a step closer to her. She has to bend her head back to look into his eyes.

‘Minoo, you’re special. But that is good. Don’t let anyone make you believe anything different. And you must not hold anything back when you’re here. There is no time for that kind of thing. Far too much is at stake.’

‘I know,’ she says.

‘Of course you do. You’re a smart girl. I tell you what, we’ll make a slow start today. Begin by observing the others in the circle. Practise seeing their magic.’

Minoo nods, relieved that Walter hasn’t asked her to boost her self-confidence by sucking out somebody’s life-force.

‘All right,’ she agrees.

‘Great. But don’t tell the others what you’re up to. It would only make them nervous. As a matter of fact, it might arouse envy. It gets that way so often among the Council’s young witches. They become very competitive. There’s no need to remind them about all the things you can do that they can’t.’

Minoo wishes that Walter hadn’t spread it on so thickly when he praised her earlier. She wonders if they hate her now. And then she realises that this is just the kind of self-doubt that Walter has told her there is no time for now.

‘I do hope you will all become friends,’ Walter says. ‘It’s all to the good, for us and for what we’re trying to do. But think carefully about what you let them know. For instance, they know about Max and Olivia, but they don’t know all the details. I haven’t discussed the trial of Anna-Karin with them, but I’m sure they’ve heard about it. There are so many from the Council here and they all gossip. Anyway, we don’t speak about it because of Adriana. I have been careful about providing them with correct information. I don’t want old conflicts to ruin the chances of this circle. I want a fresh start. Please don’t undermine my work.’

‘I promise,’ she tells him.

And she hopes that she will be able to keep that promise. She is good at secrecy. All the same, she is terrified of saying the wrong thing in this world of grey areas and layer upon layer of forbidden topics.

Walter opens the double doors and steps out into the garden ahead of her.

Minoo stops at the top of the steps for a moment and watches as he says something to Sigrid, who laughs. Within a fraction of a second, she has vanished and transferred herself to the high hedge in the middle of the garden.

Minoo walks across the lawn. It is damp and slippery under the soles of her shoes.

Nejla stands near one of the apple trees and watches a ball of fire that floats in front of her at eye level. Minoo wonders what she is practising. If it is to keep the ball burning for as long as possible, or as still as possible, or both.

Minoo releases the black smoke.

The world grows more obscure and, at the same time, more translucent. But she still can’t see Nejla’s magic. And she can’t very well walk up to her and put her hand on Nejla’s forehead.

Minoo slides just a little deeper into the world of the black smoke.

She loses track of time, doesn’t know how long she has stood there, but finally she sees that Nejla is surrounded by a shimmering aura, a red sheen that glows strongly around her. It is her magic. Minoo sees it only for a brief moment, but now she knows that she can do this.

She slides more deeply still into concentration.

60

Vanessa doesn’t duck in time. The dense cloud of hairspray lands on her arm and forms a gluey second skin. She lowers her eyeliner and glances irritably at Michelle via the mirror in the girls’ loo.

‘Hey! Can’t you aim somewhere else? Like, at
your hair
?’

‘Sorry, sweetheart.’ Michelle puts the can back on the edge of the basin.

She checks her hair in the mirror and starts meticulously patching up her powder. Evelina emerges from one of the toilet cubicles and washes her hands.

‘This soap smells fucking disgusting,’ she grimaces.

‘Just be thankful there’s soap at all,’ Vanessa says.

Tindra from Linnéa’s class comes in. Her purple and black dreads dangle over her bare shoulders. She has painted eyebrows on today – two slim black lines on her face caked in pale powder.

‘Hiya,’ she says to Vanessa as she goes into one of the cubicles.

‘Hi,’ Vanessa replies.

Vanessa doesn’t think that Linnéa is in school today. She has searched for her energy field but can’t find it anywhere. She has been on the verge of calling to make up after yesterday’s row so many times, but each time she stops herself.

She just wants everything to be okay again. But why should she always be the one to take the first step whenever they have an argument? Why is it always her who is locked out and has to hammer on the door to be let back in? Just thinking about it makes her feel tired. And it is going to happen again and again.

‘Are you coming?’ Evelina asks.

They leave the loos, go to the dining room and queue up for lunch. The small, semi-secluded room in the dining area has filled up with new faces. The popular elite among the first years has already figured out that it’s the place to sit. Maybe older siblings have briefed them.

Linnéa had been tied up in there by Max. What if that wasn’t by chance? Maybe Max picked it because that is where the portal will open?

Suddenly the apocalypse feels inevitable, as if their attempts to stop it are ridiculous.

‘What’s the matter?’ Evelina asks. ‘You look really down.’

Michelle is looking at her, too.

‘Is it because …’ she begins with a sidelong glance at Evelina.

‘No,’ Vanessa says. ‘It has nothing to do with Wille and his girlfriend expecting a baby.’ Her voice is harsh, but they hurt her so much by not telling her about it. She wants to hurt them in return.

‘We’re sorry, we should’ve said.’ Michelle piles hash browns on her plate. ‘We were worried about how you’d react.’

Vanessa goes over to the salad buffet. Pale, damp, grated carrots. Chick peas in a dressing that looks like vomit. Limp lettuce leaves going brown at the edges.

Evelina and Michelle follow her.

‘We didn’t know how to tell you,’ Evelina says. ‘And we haven’t met up, so …’

Her voice fades. Vanessa looks at them and it feels as if they are strangers.

‘He’s such a total loser,’ Michelle goes on. ‘I simply don’t get why she trusts him when she knows that he was unfaithful to you. With her. It must be horrible for you.’

It says a lot about how far apart they’ve grown if Michelle really thinks she’s broken-hearted because Wille has moved on with his life …

‘I felt nothing,’ Vanessa says. ‘I met the two of them in town and it was like … nothing. That’s the truth.’

Evelina stares at her. ‘But what’s the matter with you then?’ she asks. ‘It’s definitely something. Are you going to tell us, or what?’

Vanessa is shocked. Evelina uses that tone when she picks fights with people. People who aren’t Vanessa.

‘Maybe she and Linnéa have had a row.’ Michelle looks troubled. ‘Vanessa, is that it?’

Vanessa wonders whether to tell her, but she can’t. Hers and Linnéa’s problems are so mixed up with the Chosen Ones and all their shared secrets. But even if they weren’t, telling them still wouldn’t feel right. Linnéa isn’t just her girlfriend, she’s a friend. And Linnéa hardly ever opens up to anyone. To talk about her would be to betray her.

‘No … I’m just tired,’ she says.

And the moment she says that, she knows that the rift between them might never heal.

Michelle doesn’t say anything. Vanessa can’t even look at Evelina.

61

Anna-Karin pulls her rucksack off, shoves some dried fir cones out of the way and sits down on a large stone. She opens her lunch box. The fox comes padding along, the needles crackling faintly under his black paws. He sniffs the air when Anna-Karin unwraps the foil from some slices of ham.

‘All yours,’ she says.

She places the ham parcel on the ground. The fox goes for it at once, putting one paw on the wrapper and tugging eagerly at the ham with his teeth. Anna-Karin empathises. Her own hunger is like a gaping hole inside her.

She starts on the sandwich she prepared in Minoo’s kitchen; bites into the wholegrain bread, tastes the salty butter and ham. It is unbelievably tasty. She drinks thirstily from the large PET bottle she filled with mixed elderberry cordial and water.

She watches the heavy clouds gathering over the town. Out here in the forest, the sun is shining. She turns her face towards it, lets it warm her face while she eats. Afterwards, she packs everything back into the rucksack and stands and brushes down the back of her jeans.

Suddenly, the fox lifts one paw; his ears twitch and align themselves in different directions.

Anna-Karin shivers as she is sucked into the mind of the fox. He has discovered something. It isn’t a sound or a scent or a movement, but something different, irresistible and instinctively important.

He runs now, fleet-footed.

‘Wait!’ she calls out. She starts running after him.

The fox has already left the path and she has no choice but to follow him.

Her rucksack bumps against her back. The fox is so excited, he tries to pull her into his consciousness; she has to make an effort to stay self-aware. She can’t run when she sees the world through the fox’s eyes; it’s hard enough already to avoid stumbling over stones and tree-roots.

The fox races between the tree trunks and up a steep slope. Anna-Karin follows as best she can, breathing heavily by now. She hauls herself up by grabbing large roots; she feels them under her fingers at the same time she is aware of the ground under the fox’s paws.

She clambers on up the slope, her T-shirt clinging to her sweaty back. The forest grows denser and she has to crawl under the low, intertwined branches of a cluster of fir trees. The soft needles scrape against her scalp. Finally, she reaches a ledge.

The ledge is surrounded by steep rock faces. The fox has stopped at an opening into the rock. It is clear what he wants to do.

Go inside.

‘Wait,’ Anna-Karin gasps. ‘Wait.’

The fox stands still. His small body is quivering with tension. His black nose is moving restlessly from side to side. Anna-Karin finds the torch she always carries when she walks in the forest, just in case she ever finds herself here after dark. She crouches down and directs its light into the gap in the rock.

A passage leads into the mountain, sloping down towards an inscrutable darkness.

She switches the torch off and slips back into the fox’s consciousness. She uses his senses to pick up the faint sounds of snapping and dripping, the whispers of the wind from inside the mountain and the smells of stone, moss, damp and something metallic. But no trace of any animals. None.

I could come back later, Anna-Karin thinks. But she fears that it might be too late.

She takes out her mobile and tries to send messages to the others, but there is no signal.

Anna-Karin places her bright-red rucksack outside the opening. It should be visible from the air if the emergency rescue people decide to look for her by helicopter, as they have done in so many other cases of people disappearing in the forest. She doesn’t want to think of the ones they never found.

She looks at the hole and takes a deep breath.

‘Let’s go,’ she says and the fox shoots off into the darkness. Anna-Karin switches the torch on, kneels and crawls in after him.

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