Threadneedle

by Cari Thomas

  ‘Maybe.’ Would I rather face Darcey’s persecuting gaze or the four pairs of eyes looking at me now? Darcey. I’d take Darcey every time.

  ‘My turn,’ said Attis. He threw a berry into his mouth before any of them had time to look. He chewed, a satisfied look settling on his face. ‘I’m not a witch.’

  Silence followed.

  ‘Do you want to tell us what you are then?’ said Rowan eventually.

  ‘A gentleman never tells.’

  ‘I thought we were airing all our secrets?’

  ‘Where would be the fun in airing all of them?’

  His words hung in the middle of the circle, like the trails of sparklers in the darkness; a brief moment of illumination that had now passed. What is he? He certainly had magical powers and he looked to all intents and purposes like a normal human, albeit a beautiful one. Anna glanced at him and he smiled at her playfully. This is all just a game to him.

  ‘You’re not some kind of demon, are you?’ asked Manda, looking at him darkly.

  Attis pondered the question. ‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘I’m eighty five per cent sure I’m not a demon.’

  Manda looked a little afraid of him. ‘I’ll say nightly prayers for your soul anyway.’

  ‘If you want to think about me in bed that’s fine by me.’

  Manda made an embarrassed spluttering sound.

  Effie cackled. ‘Isn’t this fun? Now Attis has thoroughly freaked everyone out, my turn.’

  She waited until all eyes were on her, then produced the berry between her fingers and placed it into her mouth, the juice collecting on her full lips.

  ‘I’m not capable of love,’ she said abruptly. Her expression of triumph faltered and then she laughed. ‘Well, that’s silly, it’s not even a secret.’ Anna could see in her eyes that Effie felt just as exposed as she had done. Rowan and Manda laughed nervously. Attis looked at Effie with an expression of indulgent amusement.

  ‘So what? It’s true.’ Effie shrugged. ‘I don’t do love. What a disappointing secret. I wish we had more berries, I’d take another three. Dish some real dirt.’

  ‘I could only swipe five or my mum would notice,’ Rowan apologized. ‘She knows everything in her garden down to the very last weed.’

  It began to drizzle, the rain breaking the darkness into pieces. ‘All I can say’, said Effie, ‘is that as a group we really need to get some better secrets. Let’s make a vow now – to the Dark Moon and darker secrets.’

  ‘To the Dark Moon and darker secrets,’ they repeated.

  ‘In fact, that could be our coven name.’ Effie grew excited again. ‘Coven of the Dark Moon.’

  ‘It’s got a nice ring to it,’ said Rowan.

  ‘Coven of the Dark Moon it is. We deal in that which cannot be known by the light of day and exact our punishments by dark.’

  Effie stood up and opened her mouth to the rain. Attis caught her from behind and wrapped his arms around her, as if it was the most natural thing to do in the world.

  They clambered their way back into the school. It was jarring, going from the freedom of the rooftops to the inbuilt claustrophobia of the corridors. They gathered their belongings from the sewing room, making small talk, trying to ignore the awkwardness in the air. The dark-mooned secrets that were meant to have brought them closer seemed only to have built a silence between them instead.

  Before Anna left, Effie pulled her to the side and whispered, ‘We need to talk about the magic. Soon.’

  Anna nodded, unable to meet her eye. She walked to the station and began her journey home, left with little but her thoughts. It would all be over soon, she knew that much. She’d been kidding herself. How can I be a member of a magical coven if I can’t do magic?

  She was already on the second leg of her journey when a shadow appeared, too close. She spun round and found Attis leaning down at her.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

  ‘Did anyone ever tell you you have terrible train etiquette?’

  ‘Did anyone ever tell you not to creep up on girls in quiet carriages?’

  ‘Ah, that’s where I’ve been going wrong.’ He clicked his fingers.

  ‘I repeat. What are you doing here? Have you been following me?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about what you said.’ He sat down. ‘Conquer new heights. Visit Peru.’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  ‘Oh no, I was just reading the advert.’ He pointed to a row of adverts above them.

  Anna couldn’t help smiling. She sat down beside him.

  ‘I was thinking about how you think you can’t do magic.’

  ‘I don’t think it – I can’t. The thing that happened with Rowan …’

  ‘You’re holding yourself accountable for that, are you?’

  ‘I am accountable. Why are you asking me about this anyway? I could just as easily ask you about your little secret. What are you if you’re not a witch?’

  ‘I’m not important; we’re talking about you.’

  ‘How convenient,’ Anna retorted. She took a deep breath. ‘Look, I don’t think you can help me.’

  The train shrieked to a halt and she made her way off. He followed. ‘Can you remember when you could do magic?’

  Anna sighed. ‘I don’t know. I think just after I turned seven but then it stopped.’

  ‘Is that when the nosebleeds started?’

  Anna was surprised he’d noticed them. ‘I think so.’

  ‘Any other symptoms around that time?’

  ‘This was a long time ago. My hair maybe, it used to be golden red, but now it’s – this.’ She held up a chunk of it. It looked even more wan under the harsh station lighting. She stepped out into the fresh air.

  ‘You told me you’re always starving, is that true? Any other issues?’

  ‘Yes, I’m always hungry. I guess I don’t sleep well either. I used to get terrible headaches too, back when I was being homeschooled, but they seem to have gone away.’

  Attis stopped her and held her by the shoulders. He studied her face until she grew uncomfortable. She knew what she looked like: translucent skin, dull eyes, underwhelming in every way. His own honey skin was vivid in comparison, a smattering of pinpoint freckles across the bridge of his straight nose. Without warning he put two fingers on her neck, they were hot, as if he were burning a brand into her skin. Anna pulled away.

  ‘Your pulse is weak.’ His eyebrows knotted.

  ‘Thanks. Any more symptoms you want to uncover? My hair is falling out? I smell? I have partial leprosy?’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘No! What is this about, Attis? Do you ask everyone you’re becoming friends with for their medical history?’

  ‘So we’re becoming friends?’

  Anna did not appreciate his teasing tone. ‘I’m not sure.’ She shrugged nonchalantly. ‘I have criteria of my own.’

  He laughed.

  ‘Right. We’re at the end of my street. You’d better not come any closer. My aunt will have your head.’

  ‘I thought we had got along swimmingly.’

  ‘You left our house alive, so that was something.’ That evening, when she’d first met Effie and Attis, felt a long time ago.

  ‘I really ought to walk you to your door. Moonless night and all that.’

  ‘You’re probably the most dangerous thing around for miles,’ Anna pointed out.

  He went to defend himself and then he formed a wide smile. ‘You’re probably right. I’ll watch you to the door, how about that?’

  ‘Still creepy.’

  ‘My forte. Goodnight, Anna.’

  Anna walked towards the house. She turned around and waved but he was no more than a silhouette in the lamplight, already disappearing into the darkness.

  Who are you, Attis Lockerby?

  BINDWEED

  May our Hira be twine and thorn.

  Tenet Four, The Book of the Binders

  Anna hurried towards the library. She’d spent the last few
days avoiding Effie and the inevitable conversation. She had to leave the coven. I ought to be thankful it’s all going to be over. No more lies. No more fear … No more friends.

  ‘Hey.’ Manda startled her. ‘You going to the library?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Can I join? I’ve got so much to do.’

  ‘Sure.’

  Manda smiled and Anna appreciated just how sweet her face was when she wasn’t hiding behind all of its defences.

  ‘How are you feeling about last Friday? Your secret …’

  ‘Not great.’ Anna shrugged. ‘I think my time in the coven is limited.’

  ‘Effie wouldn’t …’

  ‘Have you met her?’

  ‘She certainly isn’t like anyone else, is she? Maybe it won’t come to that. Although leaving would be a relief in some ways, right? You said your aunt is strict.’

  ‘Strict is one word. Your parents the same?’

  Manda blew out through her cheeks. ‘Oh yeah. They’re strict, but it’s not even that. It’s like they just expect me to have the exact same outlook as them and if they ever found out I didn’t, they wouldn’t know what to do with me. I certainly wouldn’t be a member of the family any more. My perfect older siblings would be even more perfect in comparison.’ Manda’s voice was bitter. ‘If they knew I was in a coven they’d probably kill me.’

  Anna was quiet for a moment. She tried to find the words. ‘Do they … hurt you sometimes?’

  ‘Lord in heaven, no! I don’t mean literally.’

  ‘Right.’ Anna looked away, feeling the shame of her life with Aunt wash over her.

  ‘Oh.’ Manda bit a nail – they were all bitten down to the quick. ‘Why are we putting ourselves through this? We’re straight A students, we have career plans, we have good, loving families …’

  ‘I think it’s what sixteen-year-olds do.’

  ‘Screw it all up?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  Manda pushed the door of the library open with a sigh. They settled themselves at a table, Manda hissing ‘Shhhh’ at a group of girls nearby. They rolled their eyes at her.

  ‘That girl is rumoured to be dating Karim Hussain. Do you know him? He’s really smart,’ Manda whispered. Anna shook her head. ‘She only comes in here to catch a glimpse of him. He comes here a lot. Not that I notice. They probably make out behind the shelves. Disgusting. Libraries are for reading not for sin and fornication.’ Anna stifled a laugh as Manda looked back at the girl with a scowl.

  Anna enjoyed working with Manda. She talked to herself as she worked and stressed out so much about all her homework and revision that it made Anna feel calmer by comparison. Anna learnt that Manda’s favourite subjects were English and Languages and she intended to become a lawyer, although hadn’t quite made her mind up on the speciality yet. ‘If I don’t have a mental breakdown by the time I’m twenty, which, at this rate, is likely.’

  Anna left her to panic over her upcoming French exam. She stopped off at her locker and was surprised to see an apple in it. Her heart sank. She’d hoped Effie would dismiss her privately but it seemed they would all be there to witness her humiliation.

  When she entered the sewing room later, Anna sensed from the shifty looks that they had been talking about her.

  ‘Ah good, you’re here,’ said Effie. ‘We need to discuss your magic.’

  Straight to the point then. Anna kept her head held high. She would leave in the same way she’d joined the coven, quietly and with a heavy heart.

  Attis stepped forward. ‘Anna, I think you’re being poisoned.’

  Anna felt her mouth fall open. The others looked back and forth between her and Attis. ‘I’m not being poisoned,’ she said eventually. ‘That’s crazy.’

  ‘Did I mention I’m never wrong?’ Attis replied. ‘Your magic is being poisoned. I think specifically by bindweed.’

  Rowan sucked air between her teeth.

  ‘What’s bindweed? How have you deduced this?’ Anna asked, backing away from him.

  Attis stepped closer. ‘Bindweed is a plant that’s used to repress a witch’s magic. It binds it from the inside; it’s very potent and extremely effective. However, it does produce side effects – a ravening appetite but weakness, insomnia, nosebleeds, headaches – although, as you’ve presumably been poisoned over such a long period of time, your body must have learnt to cope with them. It would explain your pale skin—’

  ‘I’m a redhead.’

  ‘I’m not talking about the colour but the quality of it. Your eyes too: they’re dull. Your hair.’ He lifted a strand of it, studying it. ‘Well, that could be the bindweed directly or a side effect of your magic being bound. It’s hard to tell. Rowan was right, witches don’t develop abilities and then lose them, especially not at such a young age. If you’re correct and you were once able to cast magic and then it faded away, the deduction is, when coupled with your range of symptoms: you’re being poisoned.’

  Anna pulled her hair back and turned her face away. She’d intended to leave the coven with her dignity intact. Now apparently she was poisoned, her skin lifeless, her hair drab? He thinks I’m ugly … Perhaps she just wasn’t genetically blessed; perhaps she’d never been able to cast in the first place.

  ‘Describe to me your typical daily intake. Anything you have every day would be useful.’

  He had backed her into the corner of the room. Anna shook her head, still not able to look at him. ‘I don’t know. Orange juice with breakfast. Porridge, or eggs and kippers, or fruit and yoghurt. Lunch – I have here. Dinner varies – I cook it normally. Then in the evenings Aunt brings me a glass of milk—’ Anna stopped. It was the only thing in her life that she consumed consistently, without fail. Good for the bones.

  ‘The milk. Every day?’

  ‘Since I can remember …’

  ‘I’m going to need a sample of it, to test it for bindweed.’

  Bindweed. Anna tasted the word in her mouth. Surely not. Aunt was protective and strict and cruel but even she wouldn’t do this – take away her magic from her, put her through years of side effects, force her to do spells she knew she wouldn’t be capable of. The Binders didn’t even approve of botanical magic, although the Book of the Binders did allow some room for manoeuvre, Anna recalled the words: ‘Botanical magic is banned excepting a small number of botanical plants that have been approved for Binders’ use.’ The plants were not named.

  ‘Anna.’ Attis locked eyes with her. His should be a duller colour than mine, Anna thought, grey as they are, but they’re not, they’re the pattern of rain, the wind just before a storm. ‘Did you ever see anything in your house? It’s probably in tincture form. A green-tinged liquid. It would smell alcoholic.’

  ‘I’ve never seen anything like that.’ Anna thought of the room on the third floor but Aunt didn’t go there every evening before bed. It must be somewhere more accessible, in the kitchen perhaps. It doesn’t exist, that’s why you haven’t ever seen it!

  ‘Get a sample tonight,’ Effie urged. ‘This can’t wait.’

  ‘OK, but if this is all a big nothing, then I’m out and you all have to leave me alone.’

  ‘You’ll be long gone,’ said Effie. ‘Now for some candle magic. Anna, you might want to sit this out.’

  The session was frustrating. Even if Anna had had any drops of magic in her she wouldn’t have been able to focus; thoughts of bindweed were coiling around her brain. She had no idea how it would be possible to get a sample. It would certainly be dangerous. Aunt brought the milk to her room and combed her hair while she drank it. She didn’t leave the entire time.

  Aunt wasn’t home when Anna got in, so she began to prepare dinner, spilling tomato sauce down her white shirt. She scrubbed it and left it in the laundry basket upstairs. Aunt arrived back and they ate in near silence. Anna found it hard to swallow. She was hungry but that only made it worse – am I hungry because I’m being poisoned? She had so many questions she could barely look at Aunt lest they fall fr
om her eyes as she blinked.

  When Aunt knocked on her door before bed Anna took a deep breath. She had to do this to prove them all wrong, even if it meant she’d lose them all.

  Aunt began to brush Anna’s hair, speaking about her day at the hospital, how you just can’t find good British nurses these days. It was the usual vitriol but she brushed Anna’s hair gently enough. Their little ritual. If we don’t have trust, we don’t have anything. Anna took a sip of milk. It tasted like milk.

  ‘Oh, Aunt.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I spilt tomato sauce on my blouse earlier. I scrubbed it with baking soda, but I’m not sure the stain is entirely gone. I put it in the laundry—’

  ‘Anna.’ Aunt pulled the brush sharply through her hair. ‘Baking soda alone won’t work, you need salt as well. Wait there. I need to see the damage.’

  Anna had counted on it. Aunt swung the door open and left. Anna would only have moments. She opened her drawer and took out the bottle she’d placed there earlier. Hands shaking, she poured a little of the milk into it, spilling a few drops in the process. She screwed the lid back on and threw it into the drawer as Aunt stormed back into the room. Anna put her arm over the spilt milk and let it absorb into her sleeve.

  Aunt held up the blouse. ‘This is not what removing a stain looks like. How could you be so careless? After I finish with your hair you can go and soak this properly.’

  ‘Yes, Aunt. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,’ said Anna, and she meant it.

  Anna woke and counted five knots on the dreambinder above her bed. She hadn’t slept well; the sheet beneath her was twisted and veined, forming a map of her nighttime restlessness. She walked over to her dressing table, opened up the drawer and surveyed the small bottle of milk with cynicism. She made her way quickly to school, trying to take her mind off it. Aunt would not poison her: she’d lock her in a cupboard, she’d pierce her fingers, she’d turn her tears to flames; but those were tests and teachings; poison had no lessons to give.

  Attis was waiting at the top of the main steps, smiling at her cordially. She tried to smooth her wind-blown hair behind her ears, annoyed he was ready for her before she was ready for him. ‘Morning, Anna,’ he said. ‘Got the goods?’