The Midnight Carnival (14 page)

‘I think the rope bruises a bit,’ Grace said, rubbing her foot.

‘Yeah,’ Justine said, smiling, ‘but that wears off when you get used to it. The hoop, though? For some reason it’s always mean to me. I never finish a set on it without fresh bruises.’

She leapt up, threading her feet through the centre, and hung from her knees.

‘Cool,’ said Rachel.

‘There’s loads of great stuff you can do on this. You wanna have a go? Just make sure–’

‘Look at me!’ Una squealed suddenly.

Grace spun around to see Una’s black bob swinging upside down at the top of the
corde lisse
.

‘Una, be careful!’

‘Oh, honey,’ Justine said urgently. ‘Come down a little bit. That’s too high.’

‘I can nearly touch the ceiling!’

Una reached up with one hand and, at that second, her other hand slipped. There was a moment when Grace thought the girl’s legs would tangle in the rope and prevent a fall but, as Una scrabbled with her hands, her feet came loose and she plummeted to the ground.

Grace screamed and slapped her hands over her eyes, waiting for the heart-stopping
SMACK
.

But it never came.

Slowly opening her eyes, she saw Una face down, hovering half a metre off the ground beside the
corde lisse
. The girl was gasping in huge breaths and glanced up at the others with great effort.

‘Oh,’ she said, looking to Justine. ‘Oh, whoopsie.’

Then she dropped face-first into the dirt with a loud ‘Oomph!’

Grace was first at her side.

‘Una! You gave us such a fright,’ she exclaimed, helping Una to her feet.

‘
You
got a fright?’ Una said. ‘I nearly had kittens.’

‘Are you hurt at all?’ Rachel said, dusting off Una’s jumper and jeans.

‘Nah, I’m good, but…’

She looked to Justine, who still stood by the hoop, her bearded jaw hanging open.

‘Oh,’ Una said, still shaky on her feet. ‘Yeah, see, Justine… I, um… I can fly. But it’s just me. And I’m not a witch. So… so, we can just forget that happened and move on. Hey, show me another trick on the hoop.’

Grace winced at Una’s lousy attempt at distraction. There was nothing for it but to come clean.

‘Justine, we practise witchcraft,’ she said firmly. ‘We’re witches. Sorry we didn’t tell you before, but it really is a secret.’

Justine was glassy eyed. She pointed a wavering finger.

‘You were hanging in the air. You should have been killed but, but… that was
amazing
.’

‘Yeah, well.’ Una cracked her knuckles in a blasé manner. ‘I don’t like to brag, but I’m pretty good.’

The ballerina seemed rattled. Grace was afraid Justine might scream or run away, but the girl suddenly cried, ‘Do something else!’

Grace, Rachel and Una stood awkwardly. Grace wasn’t sure of the ethics of showing off spells to a non-witch. Wasn’t there some sort of code, that you should only use your powers for good? That doing tricks to impress other people wasn’t very dignified. It belittled the huge importance of their power, didn’t it?

But her heart swelled. She was dying to show off. So she didn’t stop Una when the girl stepped forward and instantly disappeared.

‘Ah!’ Justine squealed in delight. ‘You’re invisible!’

‘Cloaked,’ Una said, reappearing. ‘But I’m still there. You can still bump into me and see my footprints and stuff.’

It was odd, but even Una seemed a little abashed at revealing their spells.

Rachel went next. Sweeping her hands over her face, she glamoured herself into another Justine.

The ballerina stepped back, but was still grinning.

‘Nooooo. That’s scary! Take it off.’

Rachel shook off the glamour and grinned back as herself.

‘You guys are incredible,’ Justine gushed. ‘I mean, you look like regular schoolgirls, but you’re… And you?’

Grace was happy not to miss out on showing off her own skills. Using the
corde lisse
as a life template – something that is or has been alive – she originated a stunning baby panther. Its sleek black fur shone like marble as it crept around her feet, looking up at her expectantly.

Justine was shaking her head.

‘I feel like crying. I really do.’ She looked at them earnestly.

‘I’m so honoured you’ve shown me this. And so happy, because,’ she wiped her watering eyes, ‘I think you can help us. We need saving, and you can save us. I
know
you can.’

She approached them, taking a hand each of Grace’s and Una’s.

‘Will you? Will you save us?’

13

Don't Go Killing Each Other

Delilah's bedroom door flew open, banging against her desk, on which she had been having a nice little nap. Mrs Quinlan's formidable frame darkened the doorway.

‘Told you she might be doing her homework,' the woman said to Adie, just behind her.

‘Yes, I think she's just finished, Mrs Quinlan, thanks,' Adie replied as Delilah smacked her lips and rubbed her eyes sleepily.

‘Beth said you missed her one of her classes,' the Cat Lady said. ‘Slacking off, are you?'

‘No, Mrs Quinlan. I had to go to my… uncle's… funeral and then I had, em, another funeral. My, em, granduncle was–'

‘I'll stop you there,' said Mrs Quinlan. ‘There's nothing worse than listening to a bad liar. You miss another class of mine, you'd better have a
real
excuse. Is that clear?'

‘Yes, Mrs Quinlan.'

‘And what are
you
up to?' the woman said suddenly to Delilah, approaching the desk. Delilah slammed her hands down on the piles of books in front of her.

‘Homework.'

‘Homework? On foreign entities and mystical combinations?' Mrs Quinlan said, tilting her head to read the spines.

Delilah didn't answer but watched her guardian defiantly. Adie was impressed again. Delilah could stand her ground when she wanted to, and hardly anyone stood their ground against the Old Cat Lady.

‘Well,' the woman said, a smile playing on her lips, ‘you've got five minutes before we head off for the football field, so time to wrap up your
homework
.'

‘Wow,' Adie breathed when the door slammed shut. ‘You just gave her the evil eye. I wouldn't dare.'

Delilah shrugged.

‘Sometimes she likes it when I defy her, I think it impresses her.'

‘Only sometimes?'

‘Other times she threatens to lock me in the basement.'

‘You don't have a basement.'

‘She says she'll find a basement somewhere.'

Adie and Delilah were already with Mrs Quinlan on the school football pitch when Grace arrived. Una and Rachel followed soon afterwards and, as the woman began the lesson, Grace almost shouted out to stop because Jenny wasn't there yet. But, of course, Jenny wasn't coming. She wasn't invited.

Mrs Quinlan began with a long and accusatory lecture on self-control. Grace found her thoughts drifting to a red-and-white striped tent, and a boy with strange, green skin smiling from the doorway…

‘Oi, are you listening?' said Mrs Quinlan. ‘Bookwormy one. What's her name again?'

‘Grace,' said Adie.

‘Grace!' Mrs Quinlan yelled, snapping Grace out of her daydream. ‘Are you paying attention?'

‘Yes, Mrs Quinlan.'

‘Then tell me where you start the build-up for the push spell.'

The pale eyes glared. In her peripheral vision, Grace saw Rachel pointing surreptitiously to her lower back.

‘Eh, in the bum?'

‘Perhaps for you that is the greatest source of all magical power. For the rest of us, we prefer to start this one in the lower spine. Like so.'

The woman pushed up her baggy sleeves, letting her arms fall to her sides where they curved a little with palms
upwards. She flexed her fingers suddenly and Grace stumbled backwards like someone had grasped her shoulders and given them a shove.

‘Ow!'

‘“Ow”, she says,' Mrs Quinlan sneered. ‘I barely touched you.'

Grace blushed. It hadn't really hurt, she'd just exclaimed out of shock.

‘I wasn't expecting it.'

‘Then wake up and life won't be full of so many surprises.' Mrs Quinlan gave Adie a nudge over to Rachel. ‘Pair up, and start pushing each other. Delilah, you can practice with me. Remember, visualise the energy like a weight pulled tight in a slingshot and, when it's ready, let it go. And take it easy, don't go killing each other.'

By the end of the lesson Grace had twice managed to push Una back a step or two. Una's pushes had somehow become pointed, so that it felt more like being jabbed with a snooker cue than being shoved by the shoulders.

‘Ow,
hsssss
,' Grace sucked in a breath and clutched her ribs.

‘Aw, sorry,' said Una. ‘Was that another sharp one?'

‘Yeah. I think they're getting bigger though, that one was less needly.'

Grace overheard Delilah tell Mrs Quinlan that she would stay out a little longer to practise more with Adie. But when Grace asked Adie if she'd like to stay on the pitch and work
on the spell, her friend declined.

‘My dad's coming to pick me up in a few minutes, sorry. I'd better go meet him at the gates.'

‘Okay,' said Grace, disappointed. ‘No problem. We can practise tomorrow.'

As Grace walked down the hill, she glanced back at the school in the dark. She saw two figures, one very petite, one with curly hair, hurrying from the school gates towards the woods. It felt like another snooker cue in the ribs.

She found herself veering off towards Dunbridge Park, even though the carnival would be winding down for the night. Bristling at the thought of Adie and Delilah sharing some secret together, she realised she had her own. With a confidence that followed every successful magic lesson, she decided she would begin the girls' mission to help Justine.

Slipping through the tents, she cloaked. Invisible to everyone else and herself, she made her way to the trailer parked farthest from all the others. Justine had pointed it out as the doctor's. There was a dim light inside. The doctor was home.

The door was creaking on its hinges, swaying open, shut, open, shut. Grace realised she could step right into the trailer and the doctor would be none the wiser. Her heart fluttered in her chest; it was nervousness, but also excitement. The doctor scared her, but knowing she could sneak into his home, right under his nose, made her feel powerful. When the door swung wide again, she smoothly took the three
steps up and over the threshold. She was in.

He sat at the far end, in a tattered grey armchair with a skinny cigar between his lips. His hat and coat lay on a table to one side, but he still wore his fingerless gloves. The top of his head was bald and scarred, with one red mark running all the way from the top down to his left cheek. He wore small round spectacles and the glass was tinted a dark pink that hid his eyes. He held a cloth-covered volume in his lap, and smoked as he read.

The sight of him shook Grace's confidence and she took a deep, silent breath. Moving her feet daintily, she began to have a look around the trailer, keeping clear of the doctor's corner. If he didn't give the doll to Agata, then he must have hidden it somewhere himself.

There were books everywhere, on shelves, on the table, on the bedside locker, but little else in terms of personal items. Two strange mobiles hung either side of the door, dream-catchers of broken yellow glass that turned with the slightest breeze and sent flashes of mottled light around the trailer. Grace knelt down and looked under the bed. There were a couple of boxes under there – the doll could be have been in either of them – but they weren't well taken care of, and she felt nothing precious lay within. The door of a narrow wardrobe stood ajar. She could see some folded clothing inside, but didn't dare open the door further.

‘Polished sanidine may look pretty,' whispered the doctor,
‘but it is no friend to the witch.'

Grace's hand shot to her heart. He hadn't raised his head, he couldn't be talking to her. She held her breath and waited. The silence was broken only by the papery scrape of the doctor turning the pages of his book… until he spoke again.

‘The yellow light burns through a cloak. Look down, witch.'

Grace glanced down and nearly choked on her own breath. Shards of her were visible. Everywhere the yellow light touched, a piece of her was revealed; part of her thumb, the dark weave of her jumper, a triangle of her hair, a chunk of her leg. Tiny pieces that, put together, made a visible human shape.

Horrified, she threw herself through the door of the trailer and stumbled down the steps. She broke into a run across the park and didn't slow down until she was halfway home. Leaning against a tree for support, she tried to calm the panic racing through her.

He's not chasing you
, she told herself,
and he couldn't have made out your face.

Still, the doctor knew more about witches and witchcraft than she would have liked. To find the doll, she and her friends would have to be much more careful.

Old Cat Lady refused to have B-brr around while she was
teaching, so the clever little nymph had remained hidden beneath the folds of Delilah's jumper for the entire lesson, enduring any number of Mrs Quinlan's magical jolts. Now, set free, he perched atop the small girl's head, stretched his tiny limbs, and giggled into the night air. He had caught the creature's scent once more and was guiding the girls with firm tugs on two strands of Delilah's hair that served as reins.

‘This way,' Delilah said, ‘towards the river.'

‘When you said you had a spell…' said Adie.

‘I'm sure it'll work, if I can get all the ingredients. It's a really old book too, so the spell will definitely be strong enough.'

‘So why are we chasing the non-faery again?'

‘We need a hair.'

‘A hair. From its head?'

‘That would work.'

Adie stopped abruptly.

‘Delilah, are you mad? This thing could squash us, and you want to pluck a hair from its head. How are we going to do that?'

Delilah grinned.

‘That's the clever part. We play a game.'

‘Come again?'

‘You said it yourself, this creature thinks we're playing games with it. It enjoys it. So let's play a game.'

‘I don't like this.'

‘We need a hair in order to do the spell, Adie. There's no way around it.'

When they found the creature it was at the water's edge, up to its knees in mud, plucking its feet up one after the other, delighting in the sucking noise as its toes were pulled clear.