by Cari Thomas
‘I’m glad you came,’ said Effie.
‘Well, it’ll probably kill me, but I decided I’ll die of boredom anyway if I don’t.’
‘What? You mean sitting at home sewing embroideries with your aunt isn’t fulfilling you?’
‘All right, I get the picture.’
‘Time to make some new memories.’ Effie cackled hungrily and took the snow globe from Anna, setting it back down. ‘Right! We have spell work to get on with.’ She waved a hand at the half-finished altar that had minutes ago been so important. ‘Attis, stop that.’
He was rearranging the sewing mannequins into a conga line, placing several at a jaunty angle. Effie walked into the middle of the room – the centre of her stage. ‘Today we’re going to work with the elemental language.’
Aunt didn’t trust the elements, she didn’t like the rain or wind and she said that fire was full of lies; she wore garden gloves so as never to get soil under her nails.
‘It’s one of the oldest and most powerful. It will imbue our magic with the Goddess’s earthly gifts and help our future rituals. Traditionally there are actually seven elements – earth, air, fire, water, wood, metal, and the spirit, but we tend to work with the core four: earth, air, fire, and water. Their tools – pentacle, wand, athame, and chalice.’ She picked up each one from the altar.
Rowan began to sing:
‘Needle is the dagger, commanding smoke and fire.
Twig is the wand, stirring wind and air.
Coin is the pentacle, in tune with soil and earth.
Thimble is the chalice, containing water’s breath!’
‘What’s that?’ Anna asked.
‘Oh, just one of the old nursery rhymes. Mum used to sing it to me. Effie, I already know my element, it’s earth.’
‘On your own, perhaps, but we need to know what our individual elements are as a coven. It’s not necessarily the same thing; it depends on our collective energy and what each of us contributes to it. The elements are all about finding balance – and we need to find ours. Did you all bring your apples from earlier? Put them in the centre.’
Anna and Miranda did as directed. ‘I ate mine,’ Rowan admitted.
‘Good job I brought spare.’ Effie rolled several more apples into the centre. ‘Now sit.’
They formed a circle, which Effie surrounded with candles. It was unnerving, not knowing what was coming. Attis placed himself out of the way, on a table in the shadows. He’s going to watch us, Anna reflected uncomfortably.
Effie placed a candle, leaf, a glass of water and bowl of earth into the centre and began to walk around the outside of their circle muttering:
‘As above so below, as within so without.
Weave our circle without doubt.’
Her voice was low and soothing, melting into the darkness of the room, her footsteps as quiet as the sound of a book closing. As she passed the candles became living flames, casting a tangle of shadows into the circle. She repeated it three times and then joined the circle and raised her arms.
‘I call to the watchtowers of the North, the element of earth, symbolized by the pentacle of old. To the moss on the trees and the humus beneath our feet, to the goddess of worm and root and the rot of our flesh, may you bring us stability and strength. I take you into me through the soil of the crossroads. Through the flesh of the apple – reveal who we are.’
Effie took a pinch of soil from the bowl and placed it in her mouth. She passed the bowl to Rowan.
‘Am I meant to—’
‘We must each take the elements into us.’
‘Gross. OK, OK, I take you into me through the soil of the crossroads.’ Rowan took a pinch and put it in her mouth. Miranda took the bowl with obvious disgust and held her nose while she placed the smallest pinch possible into her mouth. Anna followed suit, the soil sour and gritty on her tongue.
Effie continued. ‘I call to the watchtowers of the East, the element of air, symbolized by the wand of old. To the leaves in the sky and feathers of birds, to the goddess of dawn and wind and the scents it carries, may you bring us wisdom and intellect. I take you into me through the breath of this leaf. Through the flesh of the apple – reveal who we are.’
Effie picked up the leaf and breathed in deeply. They each followed in turn.
‘I call to the watchtowers of the South, the element of fire, symbolized by the athame of old. To the smoke of the flame and the bite of the bale, to the goddess of sun and summer light and snow-white ash, may you bring us energy and desire. I take you into me through the burn of this flame. Through the flesh of the apple – reveal who we are.’
Effie held her finger over the candle until she winced and passed it on. Even if Anna had wanted to refuse, she couldn’t now; there was a crackle in the air, a feeling of pressure, a tightening they could not escape from.
‘I call to the watchtowers of the West, the element of water as symbolized by the chalice of old. To the seas of life and the rivers of the dead, to the goddess of the moon and the waves and ocean tides, may you bring us intuition and love. I take you into me through this water. Through the flesh of the apple – reveal who we are.’
Effie drank from the glass. The elements in the centre had begun to respond – the flame growing and flickering; water swirling; earth in the bowl shifting as if something were buried beneath it; leaf twitching.
‘By pentacle, wand, blade and chalice, through the flesh of the apple pure, reveal who we are. Through the flesh of the apple pure, reveal who we are …’
Anna observed the theatrics with growing concern. Suddenly Effie ceased chanting and announced: ‘I’ll go first.’
Without hesitation she reached into the centre and grabbed one of the apples. She bit deep into its flesh with relish. She cried and dropped the apple to the floor. It split in half. The flesh inside was black and charred, smoke uncoiling from its innards. ‘Fire.’ Effie smiled with satisfaction, smoke tangling in her hair. ‘I knew it. Your turn, Rowan. Choose one.’
Rowan dithered over one of the apples but then selected another. She went to bite it but the apple rose out of her hand and floated several inches above it. Rowan tried to grab it again but it rose higher still. ‘Whoa. Air? Me? Air? I don’t bring wisdom or intellect to anything.’
‘Keep focus,’ Effie scolded. ‘Miranda.’
Miranda tentatively selected an apple and held it at arm’s length, as if it might suddenly explode.
‘Bite it!’
Miranda brought the apple to her lips, eyes tightly closed. She nibbled gingerly at it and then immediately began spluttering and spitting. She dropped the apple and it rolled back into the centre, earth spilling from inside. A worm crept from a hole in its flesh – its small, pink head flickering and tasting the air like a tiny tongue.
Miranda tried to scream but couldn’t. She gulped at the air. ‘I – I can’t—’ She scrabbled at her throat.
‘I don’t think she can breathe!’ Anna was panicking. Attis stood up in the distance.
‘Keep focus!’ Effie shouted. ‘Don’t fight it.’
She locked eyes with Miranda, who let out an almighty cough and then inhaled deeply. Miranda uncoiled the hand she’d coughed into, revealing a small pile of earth within it. She shrieked and grabbed at the bottle of water, drinking it in large gulps and wiping frantically at her mouth. ‘What’s wrong with me? Why is the apple rotten? That’s disgusting! So help me God!’
‘It’s not rotten, it’s just earth,’ said Rowan, unable to withhold a giggle as a second worm wriggled out of the apple and onto the floor.
Miranda began to retch.
‘Quiet! Anna!’
Anna reviewed the apples before her. One seemed to attract all her attention. She tried to resist it but the apple was insistent, its waxy skin shining and winking at her in the candlelight. She took it and held it to her lips, but just as she was to take a bite its stalk began to sprout and grow small green leaves. It grew longer, curling around itself, erupting with new shoot
s.
‘What is it?’ Anna smiled, the leaves tickling at her hand.
‘Water.’ Rowan smiled too. ‘Giver of life.’
Anna took a bite and the apple’s juices poured down her chin. Inside it was more water than flesh; a golden lake, sweet as summer. She admired the magic in her palm. She knew it was the result of the group, rather than hers alone, but still – it felt good.
Attis jumped off the table, producing what appeared to be a magnet from his pocket. He held it out along the ground. One of the apples began to roll towards him and it hit the magnet with a metal-on-metal thud. ‘Guess I’m metal,’ he said.
‘You weren’t part of the spell,’ Effie chided.
‘Well, the spell obviously wanted me to be a part of it.’ He walked over to them, surveying the apples and plucking Rowan’s from the air where it still hovered.
‘Why do I get worms?’ Miranda cried. ‘Why am I worm girl?’
‘Hey, you stole my element,’ said Rowan. ‘I thought I had an affinity with earth. Now apparently I’m air – all wind and no substance. I guess that makes sense, actually …’
‘The apples have spoken,’ said Effie. ‘We are what we are. Now, how about finishing with a game? Have you guys ever played light as a feather, stiff as a board?’
‘Only like a thousand times,’ said Rowan.
‘Well, this is a twist on it. We all feeling OK? Magic can take its toll when you’re not used to it.’
Anna was still on a high from the spell – the feeling of magic running through her. A kind of pressure. A buzzing. Something she couldn’t put her finger on. At Effie’s words she realized she was also very tired.
Miranda grimaced. ‘Am I going to have to eat anything disgusting?’
Effie shook her head.
‘I suppose I could do one more spell then.’
Anna nodded along.
‘Attis, you have to sit this one out again,’ Effie told him. ‘Your magic is too powerful; there won’t be any challenge.’
‘I know when I’m not wanted,’ he said, hopping back onto the table.
‘Right, so normally we’d try to levitate someone off the floor by chanting “light as a feather, stiff as a board,” but in this version you have to stand up and then fall backwards. We’ll try to hold you up. A magical trust game – of sorts.’
‘Sounds dangerous,’ said Miranda.
‘It’s easy. Come on.’ Effie raised her hand. Anna found herself rising to her feet and wondered how Effie always got her way. Is it the authority in her voice? The intensity of her eyes? The threat of her smile? She was the Pied Piper, playing a dark tune and luring all the rats to the river. Still, it was the rats who chose to jump. ‘It’s better that I begin the chant. Anna, you go first.’
Anna walked to the centre of the room, unsure of what was coming.
‘Turn around and cross your arms over your chest. Yes, like that. Wait to feel the energy build and I’ll say fall. Trust us, OK?’
‘OK.’ Anna didn’t trust them, or magic.
They began to repeat the words: ‘Light as a feather, stiff as a board. Light as a feather, stiff as a board.’ Anna wasn’t sure if she was meant to feel anything – she couldn’t detect any magic. The idea of simply letting go and dropping to the floor with nothing to stop her felt absurd. Light as a feather, stiff as a board …
‘Fall.’ Anna felt Effie’s words pull at her and fell back, her arms clasped, her body stiff. The air seemed to thicken around her, like custard, slowing her descent, a warm current pushing her back up. They held her still in the air for a few moments and then brought her gently to the ground.
‘That was cool,’ said Anna, more loudly than intended, spinning round. Her heart was racing.
‘Look at you, all flushed with magic,’ said Effie indulgently. ‘Miranda, it’s your turn.’
Miranda was easy to hold up. She barely fell at all. The force of their magic slowed her and held her thin frame in the air. ‘Put me down!’ she protested.
‘Anyone else tempted to see how long we can keep her there?’ said Effie.
Miranda began to whimper and they lowered her to the floor. Anna was still buzzing, but the feeling was a strained one now, as if she’d had been stretched out too far. She felt a crashing wave of exhaustion.
‘My go!’ said Rowan, taking up her position.
Anna shook her head, trying to clear the blurriness from it. She only had a moment before they began chanting again. It was hard to focus and when Effie cried ‘Fall!’ Anna was taken by surprise. There was a loud crack.
‘Fuck,’ said Effie.
Rowan was lying on the floor, not moving. Attis appeared beside her in an instant. A thin trail of blood began to trickle from her head. Anna ran to kneel on the other side of her. Rowan’s eyelids fluttered.
‘I knew I was too fat for this game.’ The corner of her mouth turned up slightly. ‘Ouch, that hurt. Shit, am I bleeding?’ She sat up and Attis inspected her head.
Anna noticed Rowan’s blood on the floor had formed a small but curious pattern – spiralling circles.
Anna saw Attis looking and quickly began to mop up the blood with some tissue she had on her.
‘Don’t worry.’ He turned back to Rowan, reaching into his blazer pocket. ‘Head wounds always appear worse than they are. I’ll fix you up. I have a magically inclined needle that can sew it shut in seconds. Painlessly, I assure you.’
‘Only if you dress up as a nurse.’
‘Damn it, I forgot to bring my outfit to school,’ he chuckled while inspecting the wound.
‘Why didn’t the spell work?’ Effie’s voice was flecked with irritation. ‘You two weren’t focusing hard enough; it was all on me, I could feel that.’
‘Well then, you shouldn’t have said fall, should you?’ Attis barked. Anna hadn’t ever heard him speak back to her.
Anna looked away. She knew it was her fault. She was too weak for the spell. She should’ve said something, told them she was tired, told them the truth.
‘I knew this was going to happen.’ Miranda’s chin dimple quivered. ‘Magic isn’t safe, it isn’t right. It’s always going to end in blood!’
‘Isn’t Attis healing Rowan with magic right now?’ Effie turned on her, her glowing mood entirely dissipated.
Miranda shrank back. ‘Well, yes.’
‘Then magic isn’t all wrong, is it? We just fucked up the spell, it’s not magic’s fault – it’s ours. We need to try harder.’
‘It’s only our first time. We’ll get better,’ said Rowan cheerfully. ‘Besides, we should’ve taken my weight into account.’
‘Hey, stop it with the fat thing,’ said Attis, needle in mouth. ‘You’re curvy and gorgeous, so deal with it.’
‘Did someone just call me gorgeous or did I just fall and hit myself on the head?’
‘You haven’t said much, Anna.’ Effie had turned to her, accusation in her eyes.
‘I’m …’ I should say something. I should tell them. ‘I’m honestly pretty tired. I didn’t realize how tired I was before—’
‘You should have told us if you felt that way,’ Effie snapped, the accusation drilling deeper. ‘We must tell each other everything. We must have no secrets. They will only hold back our magic. At our next session all secrets will be out.’
Anna had an overwhelming urge to step into the shadows, out of sight.
‘Right, start clearing up, unless any of you want to stay down here for All Hallows’ Eve, night of the dead. We have parties to attend.’
Anna had no parties. She walked back home, the autumn mists shaking themselves loose from the cold ground. When she arrived back, the house was dark and quiet – Aunt was still at work. She sat at the kitchen table and reached into her bag, pulling out her elemental apple. She took a bite of it, trying to remember the taste of magic. Inside, its seeds had begun to sprout with little green shoots and flowers. So hopeful, but so useless. My magic failed before it had begun. She thought of Rowan guiltily. Her
fall. The blood. Its pattern on the floor – those circles …
Anna gripped the apple as she remembered the mark on the necks of the Faceless Women. Seven circles.
A deeper memory arose suddenly.
She’d been young, eight or nine. She’d fallen outside and scraped her knee. She’d gone to find Aunt, holding back tears, hoping for some comfort: a plaster, a kiss on the head. Aunt hadn’t been in the kitchen – no, nor in the living room. She’d climbed the stairs, stifling a sob. Aunt’s bedroom door had been ajar. She’d pushed it open: ‘Aunt, I—’
Aunt had been sitting on the bed, her head crumpled into her hands, dressing gown around her waist. The skin on her back had been raw and red with stitch-marks – a pattern sewn into her flesh.
Anna dropped the apple as she remembered: circles. The pattern had been circles. She tried to recall more. Aunt had stood up, thrown her dressing gown back on and started shouting. Anna had never got that plaster or that kiss.
Had there been seven circles on Aunt’s back? It was so hard to remember clearly. She’d seen Aunt’s back since then and there had been no trace of anything. Maybe she was overreacting. It was probably nothing. Just another Binders’ punishment, some sort of sick training. There was no good reason to make any more of it except – Rowan’s blood …
The doorbell rang, making Anna jump. She hid the apple away and went to answer it. A handful of children were gathered outside, a miniature collection of ghouls and devils and witches. They screamed: ‘TRICK OR TREAT?’
SECRETS
Never forget the Ones Who Know Our Secrets for they will never forget our secrets.
The Return, The Book of the Binders
Anna hadn’t been able to concentrate on school all week. She was still thinking about Rowan and her fall. She’d hoped that with the magic of the group her own might somehow begin to grow stronger but the accusatory line of blood that had circled from Rowan’s head had made itself clear. She was out of her depth.
She trudged her way to English, knowing that it would not help her mood. Mr Ramsden boasted the exceptional skill of turning great works of literature into dried-out husks. Like me – a dried-out husk of nothing. At least Peter was in the class and would provide some distraction. The room was empty. She took a seat in the corner and waited, hoping he’d arrive early. The door swung open—