Fire, page 14
‘Anyway, we’re sure about one thing – that we can’t trust the Council,’ Linnéa says. ‘So not one word to the principal about any of this or about what Nicolaus told us.’
‘But Adriana is on our side,’ Vanessa says. ‘Well, sort of.’
‘If there’s one thing that Nicolaus’s story confirms, it’s that we can’t trust any member of the Council.’
Minoo glances at her mobile.
‘We’ve got to go,’ she says.
‘True,’ Vanessa says. ‘We mustn’t miss the autumn term’s first lesson in magic.’
Minoo walks beside Linnéa on the way to Kärrgruvan. The others follow, each on her own.
Since they left Nicolaus’s flat, Linnéa hasn’t said a word. Every so often, Minoo sneaks a look at her profile, with the black fringe, the shoulder-length black hair pulled up in two bunches. Her heavily made-up eyes are hidden behind large sunglasses.
Minoo is often troubled by Linnéa’s harshness and aggression, but she admires her, too. She is the kind of person Minoo would like to count as a friend. Only, their lives are so desperately different. Their talk never flows easily; there is always a watchful undertone.
‘Do you think it can be done?’ Linnéa asks suddenly. ‘Contacting the dead?’
‘I hope so. What I mean is, Matilda is obviously trying to contact us.’
‘What about someone dead who isn’t trying?’
She says this quickly, as if to conceal her feelings.
Minoo understands that she is thinking of Elias. Perhaps of her mother, too? Minoo wonders if Linnéa can even remember what her mother looked like. How old was Linnéa when her mother died?
‘Don’t know,’ Minoo replies cautiously. ‘Maybe you could ask the book?’
Linnéa doesn’t answer.
They have almost reached Kärrgruvan. Minoo hasn’t been to the fairground since the end of last term. Everything looks the same. The broken fence. The ticket booth, with two planks nailed across the opening. The overgrown hedges. The dance pavilion under its pointy roof, which they can glimpse between the trees.
As they walk through the gate, the sense of an unchanging past grows even stronger. It is almost too unchanged. It is as if the abandoned fairground has been preserved in its state of decay. As if the whole place is holding its breath.
The principal waits, standing on the dance floor.
Adriana Lopez is wearing a tight skirt that ends above the knee and a creamy-white silk blouse, as ever buttoned up all the way. There is a patch of sweat on her chest. Minoo can’t think why Adriana doesn’t undo a few buttons. No need for her to hide anything now. They have already seen her scarred skin.
The raven, Adriana’s familiar, caws loudly from its perch up on the roof.
Adriana looks up and waves to them. Her body language is stiffer than usual and her back even straighter.
Minoo and Linnéa step up on to the dance floor and the others join them, one by one.
He buried her somewhere here, Minoo thinks. Her eyes search the grounds. She wishes that they had asked Nicolaus exactly where Matilda’s body has its resting place so that they could mark it out in some way only they would understand. In her honour.
‘Girls, welcome back,’ the principal says when they are all gathered around her.
Her smile is forced.
Minoo and Linnéa exchange glances. Both have observed it. Adriana is nervous.
‘There is something I must tell you,’ she continues, but falls silent when the sound of a car engine comes closer. Heavy tyres crunch over the gravel on the roadway.
A dark green car pulls up just outside the gates.
The engine noise is cut and the driver, a tall man in a suit, climbs out. Then the passenger door opens. Viktor climbs out and slams the car door shut.
Kärrgruvan has been wiped from the collective consciousness in Engelsfors. People can’t find their way here any longer. No one even remembers that it exists.
But now this stranger walks straight in, with Viktor in his wake.
Minoo observes the principal. Her face is blank, like a mask. She is transformed into the Adriana Lopez whom Minoo met a year ago. Back then, Minoo had found it impossible to imagine that Adriana had any emotional life whatsoever.
Adriana watches Viktor and the unknown man as they reach the pavilion.
The stranger is at least forty, Minoo guesses. Could he be Viktor’s father? Only if some kind of genetic miracle had taken place. The man’s skin has an olive tone, his hair is dark and his eyes are brown. Definitely different from pale, ash-blonde, blue-eyed Viktor.
And still they belong together. It shows, somehow.
Minoo tries to catch Viktor’s eye, but he ignores her.
‘Girls,’ Adriana speaks loudly. ‘Let me introduce Alexander and Viktor Ehrenskiöld. They are sent here to represent the Council.’
She steps aside. Minoo notes that Anna-Karin’s face has turned green. She looks as if she is about to faint any minute, or throw up. Or both.
The Council. The authority whose rules Anna-Karin disobeyed throughout last year’s autumn term, despite warnings.
The authority that ordered the sign of Fire to be burned into the principal’s skin to punish her defiance. That allowed the earlier Chosen One to be burned at the stake.
Minoo takes Anna-Karin’s hand. She shudders at the touch at first, then returns it and squeezes Minoo’s hand hard.
Alexander’s gaze slides across their faces. Halts when it reaches Anna-Karin.
‘Anna-Karin Nieminen?’ Alexander Ehrenskiöld asks.
Anna-Karin is past speaking. It is as if she has forgotten how to. Mute, she nods instead.
‘You will be tried in court for your crimes. As of now, and until further notice, you are not allowed to leave Engelsfors and must be available for interrogation. We would have preferred to keep you in custody, but Adriana has persuaded us that you will cooperate.’
His gaze leaves Anna-Karin and she at least dares to breathe again.
‘Until the trial ends, your lessons in magic will be cancelled. The rest of you must also be ready to be interrogated. I will prosecute. Viktor is my assistant—’
‘Excuse me,’ Vanessa interrupts, without a trace of apology in her voice. ‘But this is so out of order. When somebody was trying to murder us, you lot didn’t do anything at all. And now you’re coming up here to take Anna-Karin to court?’
Anna-Karin tries to grasp what Vanessa is saying. Tries to get into her head that she is not alone, exactly as Minoo said. She tightens her grip on Minoo’s hand, despite worrying that her own is sweaty.
Alexander looks contemptuous as he turns to Vanessa.
‘Who is this?’ he asks Viktor.
‘She is Vanessa Dahl,’ Viktor replies promptly.
‘“She” can speak for herself, just so you know,’ Vanessa snaps.
‘We are here to help you,’ Alexander says. ‘You are hugely important to us. Indeed, to the whole world.’
Anna-Karin realises that he doesn’t mean a word of all that. On the contrary. He doesn’t even try to control the undertone of scorn in what he says.
‘However, this trial is necessary,’ Alexander continues. ‘It is a consequence of the severe breaches that have been committed against the laws of magic.’
‘What crimes is Anna-Karin actually charged with?’ Minoo asks.
Alexander turns to stare at her.
‘Minoo Falk Karimi,’ Viktor prompts.
‘Is that so?’ Alexander says with a hint of interest in his dark brown eyes. ‘Anna-Karin was told by Adriana Lopez to cease using magic for personal gain. She did not desist as ordered. You know the laws of the Council.’
Alexander turns to look at Anna-Karin and, once more, terror grabs her by the throat.
‘Three laws, all straightforward,’ he instructs. ‘You are not allowed to practise magic without the permission of the Council. You are not allowed to use your magic powers to break non-magic laws. Finally, you are not allowed to reveal to the non-magic population that you are witches. In the case of Anna-Karin, we are certain that she is in breach of at least two of these laws. Probably all three.’
Anna-Karin is gasping for air. Just to escape that ice-cold, merciless gaze she would confess to practically anything.
‘But, as a matter of fact, we were all given our powers before we even knew that the Council existed,’ Minoo says. ‘I am saying that Anna-Karin hasn’t committed any crime whatsoever, surely you can’t be accused of breaking the laws of magic when you don’t even know that such laws exist?’
Anna-Karin sneaks a glance at Minoo and sees that her cheeks are blushing bright red. Obviously, she is nearly as scared of Alexander as Anna-Karin. And yet she dares to contradict him.
‘Naturally not,’ Alexander replies coolly.
‘Good,’ Minoo says. ‘I wanted that clarified.’
‘I can assure you that the trial will be thorough and just, from beginning to end,’ Alexander says. ‘Afterwards, Adriana will continue to train you.’
Miss Lopez’s face is immobile. She just stands there, like a wax doll.
‘One more thing,’ Alexander says. ‘Until the Council has arrived at a sentence, you are all strictly forbidden to use magic. Viktor will keep you under surveillance at school and we have our methods for continuing to supervise you also during your leisure time. We will get in touch as and when you are required for interrogation.’
He walks towards the steps. But someone moves to block his way. Linnéa. Of course.
Anna-Karin’s heart does a somersault inside her chest. She feels like screaming at Linnéa to keep out of this. Alexander is dangerous, can’t she see that?
‘Linnéa Wallin, I presume,’ Alexander says. ‘And what’s on your mind?’
‘Just a minor problem. The apocalypse.’
‘We have plenty of time, enough to deal with the present case, as well as training you for future battles.’
‘Why should we listen to you at all? You need us more than we need you.’
A faint smile flickers on Alexander’s lips.
‘Really? Well, if you believe that you must act accordingly. And be prepared to cope with the consequences.’
His eyes suddenly fix on Linnéa. She whimpers and puts her hands to her head as if a blow has been struck. Her sunglasses crash to the floor.
‘So, I wouldn’t try that kind of move again if I were you,’ Alexander says.
These are his final words.
He walks to the car, closely followed by Viktor and Adriana.
21
Linnéa’s aching head stays painful for the time it takes her to walk along the gravelled track and cross the main road. She ought not to have let herself be provoked by Alexander. He had of course worked out that she would try to find out what he was thinking and was ready for her. He flung back at her the power she had directed against him. Inside Linnéa’s head, the feedback howl is tailing off but still reverberating.
They had scattered once the meeting was over. They had a lot to talk about, but didn’t dare to do it openly. From now on, they have to stay alert not only for spies from the demons, but also from the Council.
Linnéa’s mobile pings. A message from Minoo to say that they should meet up in Nicolaus’s flat tomorrow night to decide on exactly what to say in the interrogations. Linnéa replies that she’ll be there. Most of all, though, she would like to be shot of the whole scene.
‘Linnéa!’
She turns when she hears the familiar voice.
Vanessa is jogging towards her.
Linnéa knows that hope can be a trap, but she can’t help it. Vanessa wants to talk to her.
‘All right if we walk together for a bit?’ Vanessa asks.
‘Sure,’ Linnéa says, as coolly as she can.
For quite a long while, they walk along the main road in silence. Linnéa doesn’t dare to say anything, for fear that she might ruin this moment, manage to do something wrong now that Vanessa seems prepared once more to be close to her.
She is so, so lovely, Linnéa thinks.
Behind her sunglasses, she looks at Vanessa’s brown legs and arms. Skin that she will never touch. Her neck, the contours of her body under the tight vest that has slipped a little and exposes part of the curve of the small of her back. Her freshly highlighted hair that glows against the dark trees along the road.
Of course, Vanessa knows that she looks great. To her, that is just a fact. But Linnéa believes that Vanessa hasn’t understood what a beautiful human being she is.
At first, it was so easy to underestimate Vanessa. A chick with her hair dyed blonde, impossibly short skirts and thick layers of lipgloss. Wille’s new squeeze. But Linnéa, who should know all there is to know about being judged without a hearing, was soon forced to accept that she, too, had been prejudiced.
Vanessa is brave. Smart. Honest. Instinctively, she’s a good person. A true heroine. Wille is her one and only weakness, her kryptonite.
Wille is such a fucking creep. He never deserved her. Linnéa doesn’t even want to think about Wille and Vanessa having sex, but because she has been with him, it is hard to prevent her brain projecting detailed images.
There is an ache inside Linnéa as she tries to imagine what putting her arm around Vanessa would feel like. Or kissing her lips, which look so soft. Jonte’s party comes back to her, or rather, the moment when Vanessa came out of the bathroom and touched Linnéa’s arm. Or when Vanessa came round to her place and they sat on the sofa. Their legs brushed against each other and everything felt, for once, as if the whole world was in harmony.
Linnéa should have kissed her, there and then.
But she has never picked up a single thought in Vanessa’s mind that suggests that she feels the same way. And Vanessa’s thoughts are so incredibly clear. There have been a few times when she thought that Linnéa looked good, but that means nothing. Linnéa has thought that lots of people look good without being in love with them.
In love.
The phrase seems too feeble.
‘You know, there are times I wish I knew what you were thinking,’ Vanessa says.
Linnéa is pulled back to reality. Vanessa smiles at her.
‘Why do you say that?’ Linnéa asks.
‘You look so mysterious.’
‘No mystery. Just a headache.’
Vanessa stops. Linnéa, too.
‘I want to ask you to forgive me,’ Vanessa says. ‘That time at the cemetery. I overreacted. Later on, I realised you had seen that my ring wasn’t there any more, and—’
‘And I shouldn’t have said what I did,’ Linnéa says and steels herself. ‘I’m sorry.’
Vanessa kicks a discarded beer can. It bounces across the tarmac, rattling as it goes.
‘Is it all right with you if we don’t have, like, a big heart-to-heart?’ Vanessa asks. ‘And instead just … have made up already?’
Linnéa is so relieved she feels about to lift off.
‘Absolutely fine,’ she says.
‘I’ve missed you,’ Vanessa tells her.
And I’ve missed you, Linnéa would like to say. And add, you have no idea how much.
But it is so terribly hard to say these very words, and I’ve missed you, without sounding false and artificial.
She is silent for a second too long and Vanessa seems to feel awkward, looks away. Linnéa’s mobile pings again. She pokes about, finds it. A text from Olivia.
Call me back OK?
Linnéa pretends to study this intently as they walk towards the centre of town.
‘Check that,’ Vanessa says after a while and points at the sky. It is covered by massive thunderclouds, so dark blue they are almost black.
‘At last,’ Linnéa says.
‘Absolutely. Everyone had almost stopped believing it would happen,’ Vanessa says, still looking upwards.
So that’s how it goes. They’re talking about the weather.
Linnéa would like to suggest that they might go to her flat. Turn the lights off and sit by the windows up there and watch the flashes of lightning. But maybe all that would only scare Vanessa away?
She has no idea about what you’re meant to do if you’re actually in love with somebody. This is completely new to her. Usually, she hardly even likes the people she goes with. They simply surface in her life and she allows them to hang out with her to pass the time, to distract her restless mind for the time being. Fill the emptiness a little.
They reach the centre of Engelsfors and Linnéa’s eyes automatically scan the boozer seats as they pass by. She concentrates so hard on this that she almost misses him standing on the pavement a little further away.
Björn Wallin is wearing a bright yellow T-shirt with P E! printed on the chest. A laughing sun makes the dot of the exclamation mark. His hair is nicely combed. The look in his eye is alert and sober. And his front teeth are new, white and even, where before there were obvious gaps which caused the lower half of his face to sag.
A memory stirs in Linnéa.
Summer holiday. She and Elias had been in the forest. They had been playing – she couldn’t remember what, apart from feeling it was a game they had really grown too old for. But they were happy. Still lots of days before school began. It had been great.
She had come back home and the flat was dark. It smelled badly, so badly that she always worried that the smell would stick to her when she went outside. That it would follow her wherever she went and give her away for what she was. The smell of a drunk’s kid.
She had called to her dad. Heard him mutter something in the bathroom.
And Linnéa remembers exactly how hard her heart had been beating when she opened the door. She remembers exactly how her father looked where he lay on the floor, his mouth sticky with vomit, every breath a snort. And the absence of life behind his eyes.
‘Help me,’ he whimpered.
For the first time, Linnéa had shut the door on him. She had seen this too often before.
And now he is standing right here, with a bundle of colourful flyers in his hand. He has spotted her already.
She can’t get away.
‘Linnéa?’ he says and comes closer.
His voice sounds worn, the voice of a man who has had a hard life, but it is not slurred.
