Fire, page 22
She almost wishes that she could believe that Helena was right. That it was possible to focus only on the positive sides of life. To forget and carry on.
After Elias’s death, Jakob went on about how she should enter into her grief and make it part of her. Let emotions out, instead of fleeing from them.
At first, she hadn’t listened to him. Instead, she had rushed straight to Jonte and tried all the easy escape routes he had on offer. But she had finally understood that none of all that worked. The harder she tried to lock the monsters out, the bigger and stronger they grew.
This is how she came to know that to remind yourself of what is bright in life is a good thing to do. But it is totally different from pretending that the darkness does not exist.
She sits down on the toilet seat inside one of the cubicles. Then she takes the Book of Patterns and the Pattern Finder from her bag.
She tries to work out how to ask the question in the best way. Then she opens the book, leafs through it and concentrates.
Is Helena our enemy?
She twists the Pattern Finder until it is focused. What she sees is like nothing else she has ever found in the book.
The signs are moving restlessly on the page, whirling and twisting in and out of each other. Linnéa turns the pages but wherever she looks, the signs are behaving the same way. They are rushing across the page as if about to overflow the edges.
She tries to concentrate on the question, but all it does is to create new waves of activity in the book.
In the end, she shuts it briskly, puts it back in her bag together with the Pattern Finder and opens the cubicle door.
Viktor Ehrenskiöld stands in front of the cubicle where Elias died. Linnéa had not even noticed him coming in. He looks paler than ever in the cold light from the window.
‘It was here it happened, wasn’t it?’ he asks.
Linnéa doesn’t reply. She wonders if he understands by some magic that she has tried to read the book.
‘It is so tragic that Elias never found out why he died,’ Viktor says thoughtfully. ‘Or who he was.’
‘He knew who he was.’
‘You know what I’m talking about. Elias was one of the Chosen—’
‘Don’t speak his name,’ she interrupts him. ‘You have no right to.’
‘Perhaps you had better examine your attitude,’ he says calmly.
‘Perhaps you should join that yellow-shirt brigade.’
‘Hardly my kind of crowd. My world view is rather more realistic than that. And I believe that is something we have in common, you and I.’
‘I can’t accept that the words “you”, “I” and “have in common” could possibly exist in the same sentence,’ Linnéa says.
Viktor stares straight at her with his dark blue eyes.
‘I was adopted,’ he says. ‘My mother was a heroin addict. She died of an overdose when I was seven. No one knows who my biological father is. I had been through five foster homes before Alexander found me.’
Linnéa watches Viktor. She feels certain that he is lying, trying to manipulate her.
She sends out a probe, but he gets there first.
Linnéa. You know it counts as practising magic, don’t you?
A small smile curls one corner of Viktor’s mouth.
‘I promise not to tell,’ he says. ‘This time, that is.’
32
The little brass bell rings when Vanessa steps into the Crystal Cave and shuts the door behind her. The shop is full of customers and Mona Moonbeam stares irritably at Kerstin Stålnacke who stands at the till rummaging in her purse.
‘You’re late,’ Mona says to Vanessa when she catches sight of her. ‘We’re closing soon.’
‘All you said was that I should turn up today. You didn’t give me a time.’
Mona shuts her eyes tightly and sighs.
‘Excuse me just one moment,’ she says to Kerstin who nods and carries on putting coins down on the counter, one by one.
Mona picks up a cardboard box from the floor and comes over to Vanessa.
‘And I told you to wear something classy,’ she hisses.
Vanessa checks out Mona’s baby-pink jeans skirt and glittery green top embroidered with a unicorn motif in gold thread. But she doesn’t comment. They need Mona’s help.
‘Take this,’ she says and places the box in Vanessa’s arms.
It is surprisingly heavy and Vanessa’s shoulder-bag slips down to her elbow and makes her drop almost everything.
‘What am I supposed to do with this?’
‘Unpack it, of course. Put them on the shelf next to the angels.’
Mona returns to the till. The spurs on her cowboy boots rattle as she walks.
Vanessa clenches her teeth. She carries the box to a corner, puts it down on the floor and starts trying to peel the brown tape off.
The box is full of mirrors set in garish, octagonal brass frames. The centre of the round mirror glass is either bulging outwards or inwards.
Vanessa starts placing the mirrors on the shelf and glances at the china angels. The chubby one playing the harp is still there. A year has passed since she and Linnéa were laughing at it.
So ugly it’s wonderful.
Vanessa smiles at the memory.
When the last customer has left, Mona locks the door and sighs heavily.
‘I don’t know, all these bloody people,’ she says and lights a cigarette. ‘If I can’t have a proper holiday soon I don’t know what I’ll do.’
‘But you have just had time off for, like, a century or something,’ Vanessa says and lines up three mirrors.
‘Time off?’ Mona snorts as she returns to the till. ‘That would be the day. Ever since I heard that the Council was coming to town I’ve been working like a slave to boost the protective magic around this place. And, honestly, what with this heatwave, it was no fun smuggling my entire stock of special items off into safe keeping.’
Mona blows out a big cloud of smoke and mutters something about fucking nursemaids.
‘How did you come to hear that the Council was on its way?’ Vanessa asks.
‘Step on it, will you,’ Mona says curtly. ‘I want to get out of this hole sometime soon.’
‘Can’t you at least tell me what this crap I’m unpacking is all about?’
‘Feng shui mirrors. One type amplifies positive energy, and the other transforms negative energy into positive. I can’t remember which is supposed to be which. It hardly matters anyway as long as people believe that it works.’
At this point, Vanessa becomes aware for the first time that the word ‘positive’ can be found everywhere in the shop, on the backs of books, on coffee mugs and fridge magnets. And, in pride of place in a corner, an assortment of bright yellow scented candles, crystals and bath beads.
Say what you like about Mona, but she’s a survivor, Vanessa thinks.
‘Seems you’ve found a new lot of target customers for your merchandise,’ she says.
‘And they have plenty of money,’ Mona says contentedly.
‘What do you think about Positive Engelsfors?’
‘That one can’t have too many clients,’ Mona says and shoots her a warning glance.
She has made it very clear to Vanessa that she never gossips about her customers. And that she doesn’t give a damn who they are, as long as they pay up.
‘But what do you make of what they’re saying?’ Vanessa asks all the same.
‘Seems they’re trying to find a short cut to an easier life. Most of us are, one way or another.’
Vanessa places the last of the mirrors on the shelf and takes the empty box to the counter.
‘Fine. I’ve helped you,’ she says. ‘Now it’s your turn.’
‘I say, is that how an employee is meant to address the boss?’
‘Excuse me?’
Mona chuckles and blows a cloud of smoke into Vanessa’s face.
‘You see, sweetie, hardly any of my suppliers dare to sell any ecto for as long as the Council is around. My stock is almost finished. You won’t be able to afford my stuff in a month of Sundays. But if you work for me, maybe we can agree on a deal that suits us both.’
‘Are you saying you want me to work here for free?’
‘Not at all. You will get paid in kind. In magic materials.’
Vanessa puts her bag over her shoulder. She has been thinking about getting a part-time job. Mum hasn’t said it in so many words, but since Nicke moved out, she’s obviously been finding it hard to make ends meet.
‘You need me as much as I need you,’ Vanessa says and leans across the counter. ‘You can’t employ just anybody. And for another thing, I’m taking a risk by being linked to you while the Council is in town.’
Mona glares at her.
‘What’s your point?’
‘If I’m to work here I want to get paid as well. And you are to give me all the information I need. I’m fed up with not getting any answers anywhere.’
Mona stares disbelievingly at her. Then she bursts out into one of her hoarse chuckles. She sounds exactly as Vanessa imagines witches should sound before she realises that she is one herself.
‘Right you are,’ Mona says. ‘It’s a deal. Just don’t expect too much. I’m not made of money.’
Mona’s bracelets tinkle when they shake hands.
‘Fine,’ Vanessa says. ‘Now, tell me how you go about getting in touch with a ghost.’
‘Excuse me, but is this for real?’ Ida says while trying to find a way to be comfortable on the wooden chair in Nicolaus’s living room. ‘Are you telling us we’re to do fairy-tale stuff, like, the spirit in the bottle?’
‘Sort of,’ Vanessa replies and twists the jar of ectoplasm in her hands. ‘But this is the real deal.’
Ida changes position again. Her legs are quite numb. Today she took Troja out in the forest and stayed for longer than usual. It had felt practically impossible for her to tear herself away from Troja, and from the stables, especially knowing she was due here later on.
‘Sounds totally sicko,’ Ida says. ‘But whatever, I’ll go for it as long as I’m not the one who has to do all the hard work again.’
In fact, she is more than willing to go for it. She is so relieved she can’t express it in words.
‘You must help lay out the circles,’ Vanessa says.
Ida shrugs. Anything, if only she gets away from the being-invaded-by-spirits shtick.
‘You and Minoo,’ Vanessa says.
Aha. So effing predictable. Nothing is ever just safe and simple.
Ida can’t remember much of what happened in the dining area when Minoo defeated Max. But she heard about the black smoke and what Minoo did to him. Ever since, she has been dead scared when they practise magic, in case Minoo accidentally sucks out Ida’s soul.
‘I’m not sure that I feel totally safe with that,’ Ida says.
All eyes turn to her now.
‘What I mean is, we have no idea what kind of powers Minoo actually has. We could never be sure what she might let loose.’
Ida doesn’t even look back at them. She knows what comes next. This is the point where they all jump up and down on her, because she dares to say what everyone is thinking.
But Minoo surprises her.
‘Ida’s right. Why do I have to do it?’ she says, sounding nervous. Which is just common sense.
‘Mona said she really doesn’t know what you’re supposed to be useful for,’ Vanessa says. ‘But she had this feeling that you ought to do it. Together with Ida.’
‘This feeling … is that how we operate now?’ Ida says. ‘Am I the only one who realises how dangerous it is?’
‘Do we have a choice?’ Linnéa says. ‘What do you think? The book hasn’t given me any answers. And not you, either … right?’
Ida doesn’t reply. Tries to remember that the book has at least promised to liberate her from the freaks in the Circle when it is all over.
Vanessa places the ectoplasm jar on the table and starts reading aloud from a piece of paper headed with the ornate logo of the Crystal Cave.
‘The ritual can be carried out only on a Saturday night between midnight and one o’clock in the morning,’ she says. ‘We need a large mirror. On it, we are to draw the letters of the alphabet with a black permanent marker.’
‘Why must it be a mirror?’ Anna-Karin asks.
‘Apparently, spirits can’t resist mirrors,’ Vanessa explains. ‘I guess they’re vain, or something.’
Ida feels horror crawling like cold fingers over her face. She must start covering the bedroom mirror at night.
‘Next, we need the ingredients for the circles. The ectoplasm, of course. We must all bury a nail clipping each near Matilda’s grave. In Kärrgruvan, that is. The clippings are to be there for one night and then dug up again.’
‘Does it matter whether it’s a fingernail or a toenail?’ Anna-Karin asks.
‘Eww!’ Ida says.
‘I guess it doesn’t matter,’ Vanessa replies.
‘Hey, it matters to me,’ Ida says. ‘I’m supposed to mess around with all this stuff.’
‘We are to use some soil from Kärrgruvan as well,’ Vanessa continues. ‘And salt, and iron filings. All this to be added to the ectoplasm and mixed with it. Together with …’ she pauses to look at Linnéa, who is sitting on the floor, and then at Minoo, ‘the ashes of something created by Elias and Rebecka.’
‘Created?’ Minoo asks. What do you mean by created?’
‘Some kind of physical object,’ Vanessa explains.
‘Something they have made with their hands.’
‘Can it be something Rebecka has written?’ Minoo asks.
‘I think so.’
‘And it is to be burned?’ Linnéa asks.
Vanessa nods.
Linnéa is thinking about the box of letters from Elias. Every single one is precious to her. She wonders how she can possibly select one to sacrifice.
If only she could talk to him one final time. Say goodbye properly.
And if one can talk with the dead …
Linnéa has another box back home. It contains a washed-out T-shirt with Kurt Cobain on it. And a cassette tape with love songs, the label of which says ‘TO BJÖRN FROM EMELIE’. A letter from Mum written to Dad when he was in rehab and Linnéa stayed with foster parents who made her sleep on a mattress on the floor of their unheated cellar. Mum writes about how much she misses Dad, how utterly lost she feels without him. There is a collection of poems by Karin Boye, with an inscription in ink on the title page: ‘BELONGS TO EMELIE LUNDÉN’. A pair of green baby socks that Mum knitted. A photo of Mum, seated on a bench in Storvall Park with her hands clasped over her gigantic belly. She was twenty years old when she became pregnant, but she looks almost younger than Linnéa. Her thick, black hair obscures her face so that her eyes are barely visible. But she is smiling. No idea of the bus accident that is waiting for her only a year ahead.
‘Is it possible to contact anyone who has died?’ Linnéa asks.
She avoids Minoo’s eyes. She probably understands who Linnéa is thinking about. And perhaps Vanessa understands, too, because she looks gravely at Linnéa.
‘Mona was very exact about how the ritual must only be used to contact spirits who are stuck in our world. You mustn’t try to contact souls who have passed over to the other side. It can be dangerous both for us and for them …’
Everyone jumps when the sound of the doorbell slices through the air in the flat. The bell rings again. And again. They stare at each other when someone tries the door handle. Then, scraping noises in the lock.
Linnéa looks at the silver crucifix on the wall. Because of its presence, Nicolaus claimed that the flat would be a protected space. But if you take into account that Viktor and Alexander could march straight into Kärrgruvan, she can’t help wondering how effective this protection is if this is someone from the Council. She’d prefer it to be an ordinary burglar.
Suddenly, the lock clicks and the door is opened. Vanessa jumps at the jar of ectoplasm and tries to get it back into her bag. Linnéa grabs Mona’s list and pushes it into the top of her ankle boot.
‘Now we’ve had it,’ Ida mumbles.
Anna-Karin makes a small squeaky noise.
They hear Adriana’s voice in the hall.
‘What are we doing here?’
‘We must follow up all loose ends,’ a man’s voice answers. Then Alexander stands in the doorway, with his sister close behind him.
Linnéa curses everything. This was their last hiding place and now it is taken from them.
Out of the corner of her eyes, she sees Ida get up from the wooden chair.
‘We haven’t done anything that’s forbidden,’ she says in a falsetto voice. ‘Nothing magic at all!’
Alexander looks around.
‘How can anyone live in a place like this?’ he says contemptuously and wanders off to the bedroom.
Adriana stands still, looking after him.
Linnéa doesn’t get it.
They can’t see us!
Vanessa’s thought is as clear as a bell inside Linnéa’s head. She is right, of course, Linnéa realises. It must be the protective magic of the crucifix that makes them invisible to the enemy.
Alexander comes back from the bedroom and goes to the kitchen. Linnéa hears cupboards and drawers being opened.
‘He’s been away for three weeks now,’ Adriana says. She looks incredibly tired. ‘I don’t understand what you’re looking for.’
Alexander returns to the living room and looks coldly at her.
‘Nothing you need to know about,’ he says.
Linnéa watches as Adriana wilts a little more and feels sorry for her. She remembers the man she caught a glimpse of in Adriana’s memories, the man she had loved. As part of their punishment for trying to leave the Council together, Adriana had been forced to watch while he slowly choked to death.
Alexander walks along to the empty bookshelf. Linnéa has to move out of his way quickly or he’d step on her. He pulls the shelf a few centimetres away from the wall and has a look behind it. Then he pushes it back.
