by Cari Thomas
‘Let her out, Effie, you’ve had your fun,’ said Anna.
‘But I really haven’t. Let’s give her a moment until she calms down.’
‘WE’RE TRAPPED! THEY’RE TRYING TO KILL ME! HEEEEEELP!’ Miranda ran over to the windows and started banging on them, but they were three floors up.
‘Come on, Effie, this is ridiculous.’ Rowan had obviously never tried to sound angry before – it didn’t suit her.
‘All I’m asking is that you hear me out,’ said Effie, sounding entirely reasonable even though she’d just locked them in a room with an unconscious teacher.
‘Miranda, Miranda.’ Rowan went over to her. ‘Stop freaking out. Let’s just listen, then we can all go home.’
Miranda slumped against the wall and started to cry. ‘Not if she kills us first.’
‘No one is going to die,’ said Anna, joining them. ‘Let’s not blow this out of proportion.’
‘But she’s doing it, she’s locked us all in here with her satanic arts. She’s going to force us to sell our souls to her!’
‘I don’t want your souls.’ Effie stood up. ‘I just want your attention.’
‘I could think of a hundred more civilized ways you could have achieved that,’ Rowan muttered.
‘Isn’t this fun though? Our first adventure as a coven.’
‘We’re not in a coven! I’m not a witch!’ Miranda cried.
‘Look.’ Effie attempted to speak softly. ‘Based on my observations I believe each of you is a witch. I could be wrong but it’s unlikely. However, it’s not the only reason I’ve brought us together. You aren’t just witches – you’re outcasts. The friendless. The forgotten. The ones who don’t fit.’
‘Why thanks, Effie, I’ll make that my online bio,’ said Rowan.
‘Rowan, you’re bullied for your weight and your …’ Effie made an inarticulate gesture. ‘… general oddness.’ She turned to Miranda. ‘You’re the Bible freak of the school, plus no one likes you.’ She looked at Anna. ‘You’re just nobody at all.’
Anna knew it was true, that she’d purposefully made it so, but still, it wasn’t easy to hear coming out of Effie’s mouth. The others all had a reason for being the odd ones out, strong personalities that didn’t fit into the school’s popularity hierarchy, but hers was an absence. A space in the air.
‘And I’m’ – Effie put a hand to her chest – ‘the one everyone’s afraid of.’
‘I’m not afraid of you!’ Miranda shouted.
‘Oh really?’ Effie clicked her fingers and the lights went out.
Miranda screamed and started praying. Effie laughed.
‘Effie, you’re really not helping your case here,’ said Rowan through the darkness.
The lights clicked back on. ‘So as I explained: we don’t fit. Maybe because we’re witches or maybe because we’re all just a bit messed up. Either way we’ve got nowhere else to go. But together – we could be part of something. We could help each other.’ Effie was on a roll, as impassioned as Aunt speaking about the Binders. They both had a way of commanding attention while hardly moving at all, simply increasing the intensity in their voice, the depth of emotion in their eyes.
She moved towards them. ‘Miranda, I know you’re scared. You’re scared of the things you’ve done, the times things have happened around you that you can’t explain, but I can help you. I’m not asking you to turn away from your religion, I’m just asking you to take a moment to look at the other parts of who you are. If you decide you don’t like it, you can just leave. I know we’re all frightened but we’re curious too and there’s nothing like the curiosity of a witch …’
‘I’m not a witch,’ said Miranda quietly.
‘I know that you like how it feels when magic courses through your body.’
‘I’m not a witch.’ Miranda pulled her head up. Her face was contorted with anger, her hair coming loose from its ponytail.
‘Prove it and you’re free to go.’
‘I don’t have to prove anything to you!’
Effie sighed. ‘Then it’s going to be a long night.’
‘How do we prove it?’ said Anna.
‘Iron.’ Effie pulled at one of the many necklaces around her neck, selecting one with a star pendant on the end. ‘It’s iron. Attis made it for me.’
‘Iron is the seeing eye.
It sizzles when the witches cry.
Red as blood, black as hell.
What secrets shall the iron tell …’
Rowan recited the verse, then said, ‘It’s one of the old songs.’
‘Indeed.’ Effie nodded. ‘Iron was used as a method of detecting witches back when they were hunted. Any bodily fluid will work – blood, saliva, tears, urine. If you’re a witch it will make the iron spit and sizzle—’
‘I told you she’d kill us! We’re going to burn!’
‘Get a grip, girl.’ Rowan put a hand on Miranda’s shoulder. She flinched away. ‘You just have to spit on the iron. If you’re a normal human nothing is going to happen.’
Miranda looked at the necklace as if it had been mined and forged in the depths of hell itself. Anna remembered her visit to the doctor’s all those years ago, when Dr Webber had dropped her blood onto that metal disk – was it iron? It had sizzled.
‘If you’re not a witch, you’re free to go,’ Effie confirmed.
‘I’ll go first,’ Rowan volunteered. Effie nodded and placed the pendant on the desk. ‘I’d love to make this all dramatic and draw a knife down my palm, but …’ Rowan leant forwards and spat on it. The moment her spit touched the iron it began to sizzle, rising up as steam. ‘Yes.’ She fist-pumped. ‘Still got it.’
‘Anna.’ Effie nodded at the necklace.
Anna stood frozen. She couldn’t just go over there and spit on the necklace. It was against the rules. It was dangerous. It was terrifying, but for the wrong reason …
What if she spat on it and nothing happened? There’s no magic left in me any more, remember?
‘Anna …’
It was impossible to think straight under Effie’s unrelenting stare. Anna walked over to the desk, trying to reason sensibly with herself – if nothing happened that was a good thing, wasn’t it? Effie would leave her alone and magic could forever be kept at a safe distance – an Aunt-approved distance.
‘Come on,’ Effie prompted. ‘What have you got to lose?’
Everything, Anna thought as she leant over the necklace and spat.
It sizzled. Loud and clear and definitive. Magic. It was buried somewhere inside of her, still. Relief washed over her before she felt the shame, the stupidity, of her actions – revealing herself to a group of witches she didn’t know and certainly couldn’t trust. Aunt would kill her.
‘Good, good.’ Effie smiled a smile that Anna was not sure was for her benefit. She turned to Miranda.
‘Just get it over and done with.’ Rowan gave Miranda a gentle nudge on the back.
‘You’re all going to be sorry.’ Miranda went over to the desk, tearing up again. Anna felt bad for her. ‘You’ll all see.’ She bent her head over the pendant, went to spit but stopped herself, shook her head, then bent over again and released a small sliver of saliva onto it. The pendant sizzled. Miranda jumped back, more shocked than anyone else. ‘A trick!’ she cried. ‘It probably does that no matter whose spit touches it!’
Effie picked up the necklace and walked over to the sleeping teacher who was snoring peacefully. She stuck her finger in her mouth and wiped it on the necklace. Nothing happened. Miranda’s mouth gaped.
‘Also I saw you do a spell two days ago,’ said Effie. ‘Corinne made fun of you for doing an extra homework assignment. You wrote her name on a piece of paper and stabbed your pencil through it and she got a terrible migraine during class and had to go and see the nurse.’
‘I did not!’ Miranda yelled and then looked ashamed. ‘I just wrote her stupid name on a piece of paper. Anyway, I can’t be a witch, no one in my family is magical.’
‘Yes,’ Miranda snapped. ‘My dad’s family are from a small town in Shropshire and find anything beyond the realms of a magazine horoscope a bit too out there; my mum’s from Richmond and basically runs the local Evangelical church. Her parents came here from Nigeria, but they brought over Bibles and crosses, not broomsticks and voodoo dolls! There’s never even been the faintest suggestion—’
‘Magical abilities are not necessarily inherited,’ Effie interrupted. ‘It does run in families, but not always. Sometimes it just finds you. Aren’t you lucky?’
Anna wasn’t sure if Miranda was going to start crying again. Rowan flung an arm around her. ‘Come on, Manda.’
She sniffed. ‘It’s Miranda.’
‘We’re not so bad. My whole family practises magic and they’re honestly a nice bunch of people, except my grandma on my dad’s side, she’s meaner than a bramble in winter but she can barely string a spell together any more.’
‘I’m not going to force anyone to join this coven, but I invite you to consider it,’ said Effie.
‘Why would you even want to hang out with us?’ Miranda scowled. ‘As you said, we’re the outcasts of the school.’
Effie shrugged. ‘Witches are always outcasts, still better than being a cowan.’
‘What’s a cowan?’ asked Miranda.
‘An ordinary person,’ Rowan explained as if it was obvious.
‘Plus, four witches are better than one.’ Effie smiled. ‘Together we can discover new languages, hone our skills. It’ll be like a support group for the magically inclined. Weekly therapy. Holistic life-coaching with the odd ritual thrown in.’
Rowan laughed and Anna smiled. It felt good after the intensity of the past forty minutes.
‘Friday’s detention can be our first proper coven-meet. We won’t cast any spells, just get to know one another. Who’s in?’
‘What the Mother Holle,’ said Rowan. ‘It’s not like my social calendar is brimming.’
Effie looked at Anna. All she had to do was say no. Just say no. Why can’t I say no?
‘I’ll see how Friday goes,’ she said, realizing she’d been holding her breath. She was in detention anyway and had already lied to Aunt – what does one more lie matter? She could indulge Effie for now and then, once the week was up, find a way to stay away from her forever.
Effie smiled briefly and then looked to Miranda.
‘Of course not! You really think after all this and THAT’ – Miranda gestured towards the unconscious teacher – ‘AND THAT’ – the locked door – ‘that I’m going to join you freaks? I’m not a witch.’
‘OK, Miss In-Denial, you’re free to go.’ Miranda rushed towards the door. ‘But one last thing – I’ve recorded this little meeting of ours.’ Effie pointed at a phone which was balanced against the apple on her desk. ‘Out of genuine concern, I might have to send the video to your parents. My, my, they’re going to be quite shocked. Did someone say exorcism?’
Miranda’s hand quivered over the handle. She turned around, eyes aflame with hatred, chin dimple wobbling. ‘You wouldn’t …’
‘Come to our next meeting and you’ll never have to find out.’
A bang on the door made Miranda jump. A face appeared in the glass: Attis.
‘Let me out,’ she cried hysterically. ‘Help! Oh help!’
Attis opened the door, assessing the screaming girl with interest. He held it open for her. Miranda stayed where she was.
‘So how was the first coven-meet?’ He smiled.
Miranda’s eyes widened as she realized he was in on it too. ‘You’re the Devil come to lead us into hell!’
‘I just brought snacks.’ He held up a tub of chocolate rolls. Rowan started to giggle. The rest of them joined in. Anna thought she saw the hint of a smile appear at the side of Miranda’s mouth, but if it had been there it quickly disappeared.
‘Feed me.’ Effie slouched back into her seat. ‘This has not been easy.’
He strode over and began to massage her shoulders.
‘I suggest you sit down,’ Effie advised. ‘The teacher is going to be waking up any minute.’
Miranda scurried back to her desk. Attis took a seat next to Effie, cramming several chocolate rolls into his mouth at once. ‘Want one?’ he asked through a full mouth, thrusting the tub in Anna’s direction. She shook her head although she was starving.
Miss Pinson made a murmuring noise, then jolted upright, a thin line of drool running down her chin. ‘Whaoaap,’ she said incoherently. Everyone was working quietly. ‘Must have nodded off for a moment …’ She registered the time on the clock with surprise. Her eyes fell on Attis. ‘What are you doing in here?’
‘I’m giving Effie a ride home.’
‘Well, wait outside.’
He stood up, offering her some chocolate. ‘Um, no thanks.’ Miss Pinson wiped the drool off her chin self-consciously. ‘Right. It’s six, you can all go.’
Effie jumped up. ‘See you all tomorrow.’ She smiled and waved her phone at Miranda before leaving with Attis. Miranda dashed off to meet her mum, and Rowan and Anna made their way back down the corridor together.
‘Well, that was interesting,’ said Rowan. The school was eerily quiet after hours, the classrooms dark beyond their doors. ‘A coven could be fun though and if he pops in and out every week in his training kit – well, I’m all in.’
Anna laughed, barely able to wrap her head around the fact they were openly discussing magic.
‘I had sort of begun to suspect about you,’ said Rowan.
‘Really?’ Anna replied, taken aback.
‘I just kind of had a feeling. Did you not have an inkling about me?’
‘Maybe. I don’t know. My witch skills are not very honed,’ Anna admitted.
‘Well, now you have a full-on support group to help you.’
‘I’m not so sure it’s going to be the quiet support group Effie has sold us.’ Anna gave Rowan a sceptical look.
Rowan nodded. ‘I do suspect we have sold our souls.’
SEWING MACHINE
The power of Hira must not be given room to expand. It should be turned inwards, bound with twine and pierced with thorn; used only for duty and even then intolerable to bear.
Binders’ Magic, The Book of the Binders
On Friday morning the dreambinder above Anna’s bed was unusually full of knots. She took it down and began untying them. It had been such a fixture of her life for so many years that she rarely wondered what secrets her dreams might hide – if they were as riddled with fears as her waking thoughts. She hadn’t agreed to join the coven but even admitting she was a witch, the iron test, agreeing to tonight – it’s all so wrong. Even if she did join the coven that brought with it a fresh crop of worries. Will school change? Will I be able to remain anonymous? The iron might have sizzled but will my magic even work? Exposing herself as a witch was one thing, but exposing herself as an impotent witch was another. Better to be bound than a magical failure …
She spent the day in a jittery state of agitation, her nose bleeding all over her notes in Biology. When detention finally came around, she stood outside the door thinking of all the ways she might be able to get out of it—
‘Anna.’ Effie appeared behind her, full lips, shadowy red, threatening a smile. Anna had noticed that Effie did not smile often, not truly. These half-smiles she wore were instruments she used to unsettle and cajole.
Anna held the door open and followed her in. Miranda was already there, working diligently, but the shadows beneath her eyes told Anna she wasn’t sleeping either.
‘Sit down, girls. Let’s get this over and done with.’ Miss Pinson looked as if she’d rather be anywhere else on a Friday night than here.
Rowan swung the door open with a bang. ‘Sorry I’m late! I had to run across from the science building and it’s dark out now. I ran into a tree. Got any weekend plans, Miss Pinson?’
‘Take a seat, Rowan.
’
They began to work and the minutes that passed were the slowest of Anna’s life. She kept glancing up, expecting the teacher’s head to drop at any moment. The teacher caught her looking again and frowned. Anna went back to writing nonsense on her notepad – and then the thud came. She looked up to find Miss Pinson’s head on the desk as before.
Miranda screamed on cue.
‘Please, no loud noises, I’m not in the mood,’ said Effie, standing up. ‘Are we ready then?’
Anna didn’t know what they were meant to be ready for.
‘What’s taking you guys so long?’ Attis appeared in the doorway, making them jump. Miranda sidled from her seat and made her way over to the door, looking as if she were en route to her own funeral.
‘Where are we going?’ Anna asked.
‘Somewhere more private.’ Effie gave her a devilish smile.
They wound their way back through the dark, empty corridors and then down several sets of stairs until they reached the lowest floor of the school – below ground. Few classes were held down there any more; it was cold and damp, the mildewed corridors even more claustrophobic than the rest of the school. Anna knew where Effie was leading them: to the old sewing rooms, where it was said the corpses had been stored back when the school was a Victorian workhouse.
‘Miranda’s not with us by the way.’ Rowan nodded her head back down the corridor. Miranda had stopped in her tracks. Effie made eyes at Attis, who turned back. The rest of them carried on walking. Anna couldn’t hear what he was saying to Miranda, only the soft, coaxing tone of his voice, a slight giggle from Miranda, and then the sound of their footsteps walking together after them. Unbelievable! Is no one immune to him?
Effie stopped at room 13B. Attis arrived and took out a strange key from the inside pocket of his blazer. It was small and white – frail as ivory. He inserted it into the lock. The door creaked open.
‘And the award for the most terrifying classroom of all time goes too …’ said Rowan as Effie flicked the lights on. A dull gloom filled the room, most of the lights had blown and the ones that hadn’t lit up funnels of dust swirling over rows of wooden desks. The walls were bare and windowless. An old-fashioned blackboard stared blankly back at them.