The Key (25 page)

‘But Vanessa, Linnéa and Anna-Karin—’

‘They have no role left to play,’ Walter interrupts.

‘You’re lying.’

But somewhere deep inside Minoo, a certainty that Walter is telling the truth starts to grow. This
is
what the book has told him.

‘I realise that this turnaround is very difficult for you,’ he says. ‘But you must try to look on the bright side. The guardians have decided that, with you joining our circle, we will have a very real chance of stopping the demons once and for all.’

‘Why me?’

‘Because you are completely unique.’

He makes it sound like a compliment but Minoo has never before wanted so much to be totally ordinary.

‘Our technicians were baffled when they analysed a sample of your hair. You don’t have any trace of an element,’ Walter continues.

‘I know.’

‘But I’m not sure you realise just how exceptional this is. In all of history, there is no record of any other case. All human beings belong to an element. All, except you.’

‘What I don’t understand is why not having an element is supposed to be such a good thing,’ Minoo says.

‘You know, of course, how it came about that the demons entered our world. How the magic they brought with them started off a reaction with the elemental magic that was already present.’

Minoo nods.

‘If natural witches are blessed by the demons or by the guardians, their powers can become very strong. But also become unstable.’

Minoo thinks about Olivia and the way she was broken down by the demon magic. And then she thinks about Max in the hospital.

‘There is no instability with you, because you have nothing of our world’s magic in you,’ Walter says. ‘You can control the guardians’ magic in its purest form. Add to that your special bond to the portal here in Engelsfors and that makes you the most powerful witch who has ever existed.’

Minoo gapes at him. Almost bursts out laughing.

‘With you in our circle, we need none of the other Chosen Ones. With you we can win this battle.’

If what Walter is saying is true, if the Chosen Ones are replaceable, this explains how the guardians foresaw futures in which the portal is closed … as well as futures in which it is opened.

‘But, then, all this should apply to the demons as well,’ Minoo says. ‘They still have a chance, because their Blessed One can open the portal by having me killed and killing six other natural witches, one for each element. No need to target the Chosen Ones especially. Isn’t that so?’

Walter rubs his chin.

‘You are very sharp, Minoo. Yes. You’re right.’

Minoo doesn’t know what to say. Or think. She can find no footholds anywhere.

‘I realise that this is a lot to take in,’ Walter says. ‘Talk to the book to confirm what I have told you. And, Minoo, do remember that this must be
your
decision. Only you have the whole picture. The others may not see the situation as clearly.’

‘I won’t act one way or the other until I’ve discussed it with them,’ Minoo says.

‘Goes without saying. In fact, I
want
you to talk with them. But, before you do, think over what we have talked about carefully. Make up
your
mind. That’s more important than anything else. I will respect whatever decision you make, but see to it that you make it for solid reasons. You cannot turn your back on the world because you feel you can’t disappoint your friends.’

He leans towards her again and she catches a whiff of his aftershave. It smells expensive.

‘Eventually, one reaches a point where one must stop messing around and decide what to believe in,’ he says. ‘Sometimes things really are as simple as they seem. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?’

Minoo isn’t entirely sure that she does, but nods all the same.

‘I must return to Stockholm now,’ Walter says. ‘But I will come back once our circle is complete. And, Minoo …’

He places his hand on her shoulder.

‘I am perfectly aware that you and your friends will find it hard to trust me. I have done nothing to earn your trust. Please, offer my apologies to the others. They don’t have to forgive me. But we don’t have much time. If we are to save this world, old conflicts must be left in the past. You agree with that, don’t you?’

‘I will tell the others you said so,’ Minoo replies.

Walter nods and gets up. When he gets to the door, he turns and smiles one last time. Then he leaves, closing it quietly behind him.

As soon as she comes home, Minoo takes out the
Book of Patterns
. And for the first time since May Day Eve, the contact is instant.

She knows what the book will say, even before it confirms every single thing Walter has told her.

She puts it away and listens to the noises from Anna-Karin’s room. She is shuffling about doing something. Minoo could go and talk to her. And then to Linnéa. And Vanessa.

But she can already guess how they will react: Linnéa protesting. Vanessa being conciliatory. Anna-Karin worrying about what would be best for Minoo. And Minoo herself, swinging like a weathervane in a gale.

Eventually, one reaches a point where one must stop messing around and decide what to believe in
. Walter is right. This must be her decision. She alone must work it out. And find out who she is and what she believes.

You are the most powerful witch who has ever existed
.

A shiver runs through her body when she recalls what Walter told her. She is not sure whether it is pleasure or fear that she feels. Perhaps both.

The sun dazzles Anna-Karin as she gently pushes Grandpa’s wheelchair out onto the terrace of the Sunny Side care home. The view is dull, just a few pine trees scattered among a group of brick buildings, but the day is warm and little fluffy clouds are floating in a blue sky.

It is National Day and Anna-Karin and Grandpa have had Sweden cakes with their morning coffee. They were so sugary it hurt her teeth, but she ate Grandpa’s cake all the same, after he had said he didn’t want it.

She places the wheelchair under a shading parasol and pulls up one of the white plastic chairs, worrying all the time that it will break in her hands. She hasn’t visited for a week. She hasn’t dared to.

Yesterday, when she tried to tie her shoelaces, she tore them off instead. When she had a drink of water in the evening, she crushed the glass in her hand. When they hauled the last of the removal boxes out of the flat she had to pretend that they were heavy. This morning, a light squeeze on the shampoo bottle sprayed the contents over the tiled walls. It made her scared to turn the shower off herself in case she pulled the tap to pieces and landed the household with enormous repair bills. She almost told Minoo at that point, just so she could ask her for help.

‘Isn’t the weather lovely?’ Anna-Karin says as she sits down cautiously.

‘Yes, yes,’ Grandpa says. ‘Bit chilly, though.’

‘Would you rather sit in the sun?’

‘Don’t worry. This is just right.’

His eyes scan the terrace anxiously. It gives Anna-Karin a queasy feeling to watch him. Grandpa always used to enjoy being in the open air, but ever since he moved into Sunny Side, he rarely goes out. It seems to make him nervous. He mutters about the sunshine being too hot, and the wind too cold. Her grandpa, who never complained about anything.

It’s this place, Anna-Karin thinks. This place is making him like this.

‘Shouldn’t you be in school today?’ Grandpa asks for the second time.

‘No, it’s
National
Day today,’ Anna-Karin replies, trying to sound as if she hasn’t already told him. She doesn’t want him to feel as if he’s going senile.

‘Yes, yes,’ Grandpa says. ‘Soon it will be end-of-term assembly and all that.’

‘Yes, tomorrow.’

Grandpa mutters something in Finnish.

‘You lose count of time here,’ he says then.

For a while, they are both silent. The scent of lilac is floating past on the light breeze. Anna-Karin wonders if Grandpa senses it. He has told her that his sense of smell is not what it used to be.

‘How is it going with the flat?’ Grandpa asks.

‘We have cleared everything out,’ Anna-Karin says.

She looks at his face with its sunken cheeks and eyes set deep in their sockets. His body no longer fills his checked shirt. The material is flapping around his arms and chest.

Suddenly she has to say it out loud, the idea she has thought about so often even if unrealistic.

‘But I don’t know if I want to get rid of that flat. If you and I …’

‘Anna-Karin …’ Grandpa says and shakes his head.

But now that she has started to talk about it, she can’t stop.

‘There is plenty of room. It’s easy to adapt for a handicapped person, the doors are already wide enough for a wheelchair. I could ask the school to let me have a sabbatical year. Or maybe I don’t even need to do that. You have a right to personal assistance, don’t you? Or to home carers?’

The more she talks, the more certain she feels that it would be wrong to give notice to the landlord and leave Grandpa in this place.

‘No,’ Grandpa says decisively.

‘But, listen—’

‘Come, come, my girl. It wouldn’t do,’ he interrupts. ‘Now I’d like to go back inside. I had better rest for a while.’

She nods quietly, gets up and releases the brakes on the wheelchair. She pushes Grandpa through the French windows and along the corridor.

The lights in the ceiling are flickering and the alarms are piping monotonously.

The door to the unit next to Grandpa’s is open. Anna-Karin glimpses the outline of a bent figure. His thin, wild hair makes his head look like the crown of a dandelion.

She stops outside Grandpa’s door, unlocks it gently and opens it wide. Then she swings the wheelchair round, gripping the handles as lightly as she can and pushes Grandpa inside. He flips the wheelchair table back and holds out his hands towards her.

She has helped her Grandpa into bed many times before, but now she hesitates.

‘Maybe I should ring for the staff instead,’ she says.

‘Sweetheart, what’s the matter?’

Anna-Karin doesn’t want to worry him. But the worry is already there in his eyes.

‘You know that I can do … some special things,’ she says. ‘Now, it seems I can do … even more.’

She tells him about her new strength and that it comes and goes. Grandpa listens with interest.

‘I’m scared that I’ll hurt you by accident.’

‘I understand that you are scared,’ Grandpa says. ‘But I’m not.’

‘Grandpa …’ Anna-Karin begins.

‘Now you listen to me,’ he says. ‘That’s a wonderful gift you’ve been given. Right now, you can’t quite control it. That’s why it scares you. But you mustn’t be scared of what is inside you, Anna-Karin.’

He once more holds his hands out. Anna-Karin has a lump in her throat.

‘I can’t,’ she says.

‘Yes, you can. I trust you.’

Anna-Karin takes a deep breath and comes to stand in front of him. She puts her hands under his arms. Her pulse is drumming in her ears when he places his hands on her shoulders and pulls himself up from the wheelchair, moaning a little with the effort.

Grandpa’s body feels so frail when she holds it upright. It would be so easy to crush his ribs by mistake.

It will not happen, Anna-Karin thinks. I can control myself.

But she doesn’t feel too sure.

She moves a few steps so that Grandpa can follow while supporting himself on her.

‘This is going just fine,’ Grandpa says.

What if she handles this wrongly? What if the joints in his arms tear as easily as her shoelaces?

But, finally, Grandpa sits down on the bed. She helps him swing his legs up and then tucks him in.

‘There, you see,’ he says and smiles. ‘I’m not made of china.’

Anna-Karin smiles back at him. Relieved.

‘I am an adult,’ Grandpa continues, more seriously now. ‘I need help with a lot, but you are not responsible for me. I enjoy your company when you come to see me but I will never accept becoming a burden on you. You are young, Anna-Karin. Lead
your
life. That’s the best thing you can do for me.’

Anna-Karin presses her lips tightly together. Must not cry. Doesn’t he understand he is a part of her life? Perhaps the most important part of all?

‘Now, tell me something,’ he says. ‘How is your little fox getting on?’

‘Just fine, but we haven’t been out in the forest together so much recently. But he has been there. So in a way I’ve been there too …’

Grandpa nods a little absently.

‘I’ll tell you, Anna-Karin, that when I lived on the farm, I could sit and stare at the forest for hours on end. But now, I’m glad I can’t see it.’

He glances at the window as if to make sure that the forest isn’t there.

‘Gerda never liked it,’ he adds.

It is rare for Grandpa to mention Grandma, who died from cancer. Anna-Karin has only faint memories of a woman who talked and talked but didn’t seem to be there with you.

‘You see, she had this friend who vanished.’

‘Grandma’s friend?’ Anna-Karin asks. ‘Who was that?’

‘She was called Ragnhild. Mother of Leffe, that’s him who runs Leffe’s kiosk. Ragnhild went skiing a lot in the winter. One day, when she was out on one of her tours, she dropped in at the farm and stayed for a cuppa. She was much more silent than usual. Didn’t seem to listen properly; allowed the coffee to go cold. Just sat there and looked out at the forest. Suddenly, she got up and left. Gerda and I watched as she skied away out of sight between the firs. And that was the last time anyone saw her.’

Goose pimples are spreading over Anna-Karin’s arms. Grandpa has never told her this story before. She thinks about all the people who have disappeared in the forest around Engelsfors. They are part of the local folklore. But she has never really thought about the lost ones as people, more as ghost stories or newspaper items.

‘All my life, I believed that the forest was my friend,’ Grandpa continues, almost as if talking to himself. ‘I used to think that people who said that you should always keep to the paths didn’t know what they were talking about. I thought I knew better. I carried on walking freely in the forest, even after Ragnhild’s disappearance. And allowed you to do the same. I had sat for so many hours listening to the wind in the trees that I thought we understood each other, the forest and I. But lately, it has dawned on me …’