by Cari Thomas
Anna smiled at her and left. She wanted nothing more than to stay with them, but she wasn’t sure if she was meant to. There were no rules when it came to Effie and Attis either and she didn’t know how to navigate them.
She waited up for a while, but Effie did not come to bed. She imagined the candles on the roof burning low, the stars gradually disappearing. Attis chasing Effie’s tattoo. She fell asleep and dreamt more vividly than she had ever done before, no dreambinder above to catch a single one.
BLADES
The body is not a vessel for magic but an instrument for control. Pain must not be sought for pain’s sake but to attain freedom from that which pulls at our vanity, threatens our weaknesses and puts the self before the Goddess of Silence and Secrets.
Binders’ Training, The Book of the Binders
Anna woke early, unable to shake off Aunt’s schedule. She showered. Dressed. Made the bed. Effie’s door was shut so she went downstairs – no one was in the kitchen and there appeared to be nothing edible in the fridge. She could hear hammering coming from the basement. She dithered at the top of the stairs and then walked down, into the heady aromas of burning and smoke. The door to the forge was ajar. She pushed it slightly and promptly stepped back into the hallway.
The hammering stopped.
‘Anna?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why are you hiding?’
‘I’m not.’
‘Why are you standing outside the door hidden from view then?’
Anna reappeared in the doorway. ‘I just wasn’t sure if it was a good time.’ Attis was topless, his body dappled in flame, a distracting, dark grey symbol of a horseshoe in the centre of his chest. ‘Aren’t you going to get yourself burnt?’
‘I don’t burn easy.’
‘Forged in the fires of hell and all that?’
‘Something like that.’ He grinned and put down the hammer. He dropped his hands into a bucket of water.
Anna moved past him, occupying herself with his shelves. Her eyes landed on the white key, the key she’d seen many times before. The right side of her body suddenly felt warm – Attis had appeared beside her, still emitting the heat of the fire.
Anna picked up the key. ‘You used this to open those doors at school?’
‘Yes, my skeleton key. Opens any door.’ The greys of his eyes were as changeable as the smoke in the room as he watched her.
‘A skeleton key …’ Anna held it closer. It weighed almost nothing and yet – does it hold the weight of the third-floor room within it? Could it open the door at last? She studied the smooth, white material with fascination and then added with shock, ‘Is it made out of bone?’
‘Yes.’ Attis smiled. He took it from her and put it into a jar of keys on the shelf.
‘Your tattoo is interesting,’ said Anna, keeping her eyes on his face.
He looked down and Anna took the opportunity to glance at it. Up close, it didn’t appear to be an ordinary tattoo. It gleamed in the light as if threads of wire were woven into his flesh.
‘Is it magic?’ She resisted the urge to reach out and see what it felt like.
‘Yes. An iron tattoo. For protection.’ He turned away and reached for a T-shirt on the back of the door. He threw it on, the white of it stark against his tanned and sooted skin.
‘Is it some sort of rite of passage to get a magical tattoo or something?’
‘Only the coolest witches have them. There’s a club and everything.’
Anna rolled her eyes at him.
‘I’ll do you one if you want? An iron horseshoe on your arm. Here.’ He reached out and his fingertips brushed the top of her arm just below her shoulder. ‘For protection.’
Anna pulled away. ‘Why would I need to be protected? If my magic is cursed then it’s everyone else who needs protecting from me.’
‘Your magic won’t hurt anyone unless you want it to,’ he said, his eyes growing serious and dark. Anna preferred it when he was grinning.
‘What were you working on then?’
‘Want to see?’ He was suddenly animated, leaping back towards his anvil.
Anna couldn’t help smiling. ‘Yes.’ She watched the fire stretch and strive, flexing its limbs – never still, like him. He drew a piece of metal from its depths to show her. It looked long and thin and sharp.
‘What’s it going to be?’
‘A blade.’
‘Oh.’
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wooden handle. ‘For my knife of many blades.’ The wooden handle was covered in intricate markings – symbols.
‘What are they?’
‘I work with the Warders, a grove who specialize in protective magical symbology. The symbols give my blades their power.’
Attis held up the knife and flicked it down quickly; a small but sharp-looking blade appeared from the end of it. ‘That’s my go-to knife, covers all bases.’ He curved the handle through the air and the blade coming out of it transformed. It was now startlingly long with a curved belly. ‘A machete.’ He crossed the handle through the air and, although Anna still couldn’t pinpoint the moment when it happened, the blade changed again, shorter now with a fierce curved tip at the end. ‘A hex-cutter.’
‘The blade changes depending on how you move it through the air?’
‘Exactly. The movement corresponds with one of the carved symbols and switches the blade.’
Anna raised her eyebrows. ‘And how many blades does this knife have?’
‘Twenty currently. It’s got blades for every use from combat to cutting wood to carving meat. Then there are some magical blades …’
‘What are the magical ones?’ asked Anna eagerly.
‘There’s one that can cut through anything. A throwing knife which always hits its target. A fire blade, of course. An invisible blade – very useful. Plenty more.’
‘What’s the one you’re working on now?’
‘It’s for sacrifices. Pierces true and quick. It can slice through bone and always finds the heart.’
‘And what do you intend to sacrifice?’ Anna asked, perturbed.
‘Nothing specific.’ Attis turned away, putting the blade down. ‘But it’s good to be prepared.’
‘Are you secretly a dwarf? Aren’t they always blacksmiths?’
‘Bit tall for that, aren’t I?’
‘Goblin?’
‘Too beautiful for that.’
‘Maybe a goblin then …’ Anna mused. Her stomach rumbled.
‘You’re hungry. What do you want for breakfast?’
‘I’ll grab some cereal.’
‘Cereal’s bad for you. What do you want? I’ll make you something.’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You don’t know what you want? Is this a chronic problem?’
‘I want an omelette with red peppers,’ said Anna without thinking.
He nodded seriously. ‘An omelette with red peppers.’
Anna shook her head. ‘You don’t actually have to make me an omelette, honestly. I’ll have a piece of toast.’
‘You’re having an omelette.’
‘Are you going to have some?’
‘Sure.’
‘OK.’
Anna stood awkwardly in his forge and then backed out of the door. ‘To the kitchen,’ she said, unsure why she needed to point out where they were going.
He laughed. ‘To the kitchen, sergeant.’
Attis popped to the corner shop to pick up ingredients and returned with several bags full of food. ‘I’ve got eggs. I’ve got peppers. Goats’ cheese. Orange juice. Bread. Muffins. We’re having a feast.’
The smells of his cooking must have woken Selene. She wandered into the kitchen in search of coffee. ‘I’ve already brewed it,’ said Attis, pouring her a cup.
Selene took it and sat down. ‘Come, elixir, awaken me.’
‘Where’s Effie?’ Anna asked.
‘You won’t see her until midday. She hates sleeping until she’s as
leep and then she loves it,’ Attis explained, sprinkling herbs on the omelette in front of her, red peppers shining like ribbons, goats’ cheese oozing.
‘Thank you,’ she said, tucking in.
‘My brain is defogging. Work to be done,’ Selene announced. ‘I have a client in half an hour.’
‘What’s the spell?’ asked Anna, wishing she could join in.
‘She’s been in love with a man who she works with for some time. He’s single but uninterested – we need to turn his head.’
‘A love spell?’
‘Not love, seduction.’ Selene smiled. ‘With a little help from magic, of course. He won’t stand a chance.’
‘Is that fair on him?’ Anna asked.
‘Doesn’t really matter if it’s fair on him, does it, Selene?’ said Attis through a mouthful of omelette.
Selene ignored him. ‘Seduction is seduction, Anna. All women do it. A little dab of perfume here, a little cleavage there, a sway of the hips, a bite of the lip. Magic is just another helping hand in our repertoire.’
‘You forgot ass-shaking. A personal favourite,’ said Attis.
‘You mock, Attis, but you’re as clueless as the rest.’ Selene picked up her mug and walked over to the sink.
‘Some Cupid kill with arrows; some with traps,’ he said, stabbing his fork through a pepper.
Anna soon made her excuses and left. She was relieved to be away from them. She’d never been alone with Attis and Selene before and it was uncomfortable. Selene was often dismissive towards men but when it came to Attis it no longer felt like a generalization: it felt charged, hostile – specific. Perhaps it was simply an extension of her feelings towards the male species, or was their relationship more complicated than she knew?
The next month passed quickly, hectic with studying and exams and magic. The coven began meeting every Friday, finding their flow, sharpening their languages, savouring the taste of new ones. Anna had been worried at first but with no further signs of the curse mark she let herself relax into it. She could feel her magic stretching and strengthening. Her Hira was not twine and thorn, it was unwinding – not twine but threads, strong and fine; not thorn, but a needle, wielded by her mind. Stitch in, stitch back, stitch in, stitch back … the dreamy state her head fell into when she was sewing. Only now she was sewing the thread of things.
Anna tried to ignore the fact that the thread might soon be snapped. There had been no more threats about bringing her Knotting forwards, but even so it was getting closer and Aunt still seemed on edge. Aunt had no idea about her secrets and she still didn’t know Aunt’s either. She listened to her at night, visiting the third-floor room, while she stared at the photograph of her parents. The more she thought about their death the less she understood. Why would her father kill her mother if he loved her? Who was this Carmenta he was with? If he wasn’t a witch how had he even managed to overpower her mother? Perhaps he’d caught her unawares while she slept – but why hadn’t she fought back? Why didn’t you fight back?
Anna normally ended up nothing more than frustrated. At her mother. At Aunt and Selene for giving her so little. At the fact she had no one else to turn to. Her grandparents on Aunt’s and her mother’s side were dead and she’d searched but couldn’t locate her father’s parents – they’d probably changed their name after all that had happened. She doubted they would want to know her and what help would they be anyway? The curse was magical, which meant it had likely come from her mother’s side. She needed a new line of enquiry or she’d have no choice but to try to break into the room on the third floor. Time was running out and Anna was acutely aware that the Binders could snap at any moment.
‘Look at this!’ she exclaimed, nudging Rowan and Manda. They’d been in the common room revising for several hours. Effie hadn’t shown up.
Rowan looked up, eyes somewhere between manic and blurry. ‘Erghh, what? Sorry, I don’t think I’ve thought about anything other than the functions of mitochondria for the last hour.’
Anna thrust the phone in front of their faces.
‘Anna, you were meant to be borrowing Rowan’s phone for revision,’ Manda chided.
‘I was. I just, kind of, came across this –’ The news story was only short:
Animal entrails found in luxury flat construction site
Animal entrails in the shape of seven circles were found within the Whitechapel construction site of much contested luxury flats. The entrails, which included intestines, feathers and a heart at their centre, were discovered by builders and are reminiscent of the mark discovered on the back of the Faceless Women’s necks. The items have been linked to occult practices and may have been used as part of a ritual to ‘curse’ building work and disrupt the project.
‘What about it?’ said Rowan.
‘Well, it’s about magic. Curse magic!’ Anna whispered, disturbed by the graphic image of a curse mark it conjured. ‘It’s on a news site.’
Rowan laughed. ‘Not a reputable one! Look, the next story is about a man who cured his cancer with cosmic rays. Probably just some entrails dragged in by a fox and now people are imagining shapes and rituals in them!’
‘Do foxes drag in whole hearts?’ Anna cried. ‘Besides, whether it’s real magic or not, or linked to the Faceless Women or not, the fact is it’s been noticed. Don’t you think there’s more coverage of magical activities in the papers since the summer?’
Rowan frowned. ‘I don’t know. I haven’t been looking. I’m guessing your aunt has though?’
‘Maybe …’
‘Look, Anna, I love a good study procrastination, but I really don’t think chasing crazy rumours is worth your time. How about we consider the fine qualities of Bryn Sawbridge instead?’ Rowan nodded towards the other side of the room.
‘How about we study!’ said Manda.
‘I am studying! I’m considering how his mitochondria work …’
Manda elbowed her and Rowan slumped back over her books. ‘You don’t even have to study, Manda. Look at your notes! Those are the notes of someone who is going to pass these mock exams with their eyes closed. How many highlighters do you own?’
‘Fifteen,’ said Manda proudly. ‘And I can’t risk failing anything, even mocks. Do you know how competitive law schools are?’
‘Not competitive enough for the likes of you, Manda.’ Anna smiled. ‘You’ll have your pick. If I don’t get into medical school, however, Aunt will keep me at home forever.’
‘At least you all know what you want to do,’ Rowan groaned. ‘I’m taking Psychology, Biology, Geography and Economics – why did I do Economics again? What can I even do with these subjects, except, possibly, fail them. Maybe I’ll take the Effie stance of zero revision …’
Rowan continued but Anna had become distracted by Bryn and the group of people he was with. They were looking over and laughing in their direction. She’d grown fairly used to the laughter but they weren’t looking at her, they were looking at Rowan. One of them raised a phone towards them. Anna went to say something but Manda made eyes at her and shook her head quietly.
‘Hell’s feathers! I have to go, I’m late!’ said Rowan, bundling her stuff together. ‘Wish me luck!’
Anna watched her leave the room, the group laughing as she passed. Fortunately, Rowan, in her haste, hadn’t noticed.
Anna turned to Manda. ‘What’s going on?’
Manda’s mouth hardened into a flat line. She took out her phone and showed Anna a picture of Rowan caught red-faced, mid-pose playing tennis. The caption read: Beast spotted on courts. Girl or animal? Share your thoughts. ‘I saw some people laughing over it yesterday. Apparently, it’s a game going round in certain circles. Without Rowan noticing you have to try and take the most unflattering picture of her possible, share it and rate it. I don’t think Rowan knows yet but it’s only a matter of time.’
Anna wanted to smash the phone to pieces. Darcey had been sharpening her blade and now she’d finally made the incision. It was too cruel, too
horrible … and all my fault.
‘Come on.’ Manda sighed, packing up. ‘We’ll have to deal with it once exams are over next week. For now, we just have to stop Rowan discovering it.’
But the next week Anna spotted Rowan running from the common room in tears. Anna followed her to the nearby bathrooms. Sobbing was coming from a locked cubicle; only barely though – more a sound of shaking than a sound at all. ‘Rowan?’
The sobbing shuddered to a stop. Eventually the door opened and Rowan exited, red-eyed. Anna handed her a tissue.
‘I’m fine, I’m fine.’ Rowan gave a wobbly smile.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I’m not stupid, Anna. I know what’s going on. I know what they’re doing. I’ve seen it—’ She choked back a sob.
Anna’s head fell forwards; Rowan knew. The guilt rolled heavy through her. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s not your fault. It’s Darcey and her lackeys. This is what she does. She finds the weakness in people. That’s why Effie’s so brilliant, she doesn’t give Darcey anything, but I can hardly hide my weakness, can I?’ She looked down at herself. ‘I know that I shouldn’t let it get to me and that, you know, I pretend everything’s fine and given half a second I’d be dating a hundred different men’ – she laughed faintly – ‘but I don’t love the way I look and when people are talking about you and taking photos and the guy you fancy in the year above just whispered Beast as you passed … well – it makes it kind of hard …’
‘Rowan, it’s not everyone.’
‘I know, but it’s enough.’
‘It’s not true either. You’re gorgeous.’
‘Let’s be realistic: I’m hardly a bikini model.’ She looked at herself in the mirror. ‘And besides, once a rumour takes hold, it’s more powerful than reality. I’m the Beast now and forevermore.’ She was still staring at herself.
‘I’m going to put a stop to this.’ Anna gripped her Knotted Cord. ‘I promise you.’
Anna hadn’t spoken to Peter since the party. Goddess knew what he thought of her now – what lies Darcey had been feeding him – but she had to put her feelings aside. She needed to talk to him.
She waited until the end of their English class and just as he was leaving she took a deep breath. ‘Peter …’