by Cari Thomas
‘Good to meet you, Oliver,’ she shouted. ‘I’m Anna. Are you in this Wild Hunt too?’
‘I am, sweet Dorothy. We pursue life’s pleasures and drink of their marrows deep. I ask you now, in great seriousness, will you come and play games with me?’
‘What does this game involve?’ Anna raised an eyebrow as she’d seen Effie do, her head still light from the drink and Oliver’s attention making her feel bolder than she normally would. It was strangely thrilling.
‘Well, you choose—’ He produced a die between his fingers. ‘Roll it and see.’
Anna took the die from him with a wry look and assessed the options: Drink. Play. Dance. Feast. Fly. Leave. She rolled it on the table next to them.
The dice stopped on Kiss.
‘Wait, that was not one of the options—’
‘Fate has spoken; we cannot deny it.’ He put a hand on his heart.
Anna laughed. ‘Not fair. It’s a trick die!’
‘Trickery is exceptionally fair.’
Anna rolled it again. It read: Slap.
She looked up and he bent forwards, puckering his lips. She slapped him playfully.
‘Red-haired and feisty, my favourite.’
‘Ollie.’ Attis appeared from nowhere. ‘You getting yourself slapped by girls again?’
‘Not any girl, the most beautiful Dorothy I have ever met. She slaps so well.’
‘I have yet to receive the pleasure,’ said Attis. ‘Although it has been threatened, often.’
‘You two know each other?’ said Oliver. ‘I should have known. Where there’s a beautiful woman, Attis is never far away. He’s both my nemesis and my hero.’
‘Well, I thought you were doing just fine on your own,’ said Anna.
Oliver held out a hand. ‘Shall we dance?’
‘I think we shall.’ Anna took it, glancing back at Attis with a playful look of her own.
She danced with Oliver, surrounded by the Wild Hunt, who were bedecked in ostentatious, bejewelled outfits and a ridiculous selection of hats and horns. Oliver spun around her, jigging and laughing and pulling her into swift, dizzying embraces until she barely knew which way was up or down. Effie disappeared to one of the alcoves with Ivor. Rowan danced her way between them all looking like a child in a sweet shop. ‘Manda’s gone a-maying,’ she laughed in Anna’s ear. ‘Or at least she’s kissing some guy over there. This bunch are great, aren’t they? So bloody dapper. I like the one in the antlered top hat, but, Anna, I’ve had too much to drink and I’m not even sure if what I’m doing can be classified as dancing any more …’
Anna laughed. ‘I’ll get us some water.’ She wasn’t sure where exactly to find water – she hadn’t seen a bar anywhere.
She wove back through the crowd and asked one of the people serving cocktails. They ran off and returned with two bottles of water which didn’t taste like water, but faintly like the inside of a plant stem: crisp and clean. Whatever it was, it cleared her head. She looked back to the dance floor but couldn’t locate Rowan. She walked up a curling stairway to a balcony overlooking the room and searched the crowd.
‘Look who’s returned from her soirée with the Wild Hunt.’ Attis stepped forward from the balcony, swaying gently, a hazy look in his normally arrow-sharp eyes, a lazy smile on his face. ‘You should beware, Oliver is quite the seducer.’
‘It takes one to know one,’ said Anna.
‘Touché,’ said Attis, trying to shoot his fingers at her but failing.
‘Are you drunk?’ Anna smirked.
‘I don’t know. I’ve forgotten.’
‘This’ll be fun to watch.’ Anna folded her arms, assessing him.
‘I know what you’re thinking.’ He sighed. ‘What if he’s so drunk he can’t dance any more? I can see the anxiety in your eyes. Fear not, the more drunk I get, the better I dance.’ He did a little tap step with his feet, one of which suddenly found itself tangled in the other. He fell against the wall beside her.
Anna giggled. ‘Smooth.’
‘Hey, you mean girl.’ He twisted towards her with an exaggerated sad face. Anna laughed again before realizing how close they were, their faces almost touching, so close she could make out the freckles on the bridge of his nose. She thought of the warmth of his lips on the playing field. She turned away, trying to find Rowan in the crowd again.
‘You have a lovely neck,’ he said and she could feel his breath on it tickling the strands of hair there. Her own breath caught in her throat. She turned back to find his eyes tracing her. ‘The way it curves,’ he said distractedly. He moved a hand out as if to touch it but stopped himself.
‘You’re drunk,’ she said, moving her hand over her neck self-consciously.
‘And you’re impossible to work out, Anna Everdell.’
‘I wasn’t aware you were trying to work me out.’
‘So self-contained, closed up.’ He made an inarticulate gesture with his hands, lost in thought. ‘Like a flower in winter. This was all meant to be simple, but it’s not any more.’
‘What was meant to be simple?’
He turned his eyes on her, two mirrors, revealing something behind them. ‘You.’
Anna was perturbed by what she saw, or what she didn’t see. ‘Hey, I’m not the one who can’t stand up straight. If anyone is simple here—’
He took her by the shoulders suddenly. ‘You should go. Escape. Leave your aunt and go. Don’t come back.’
‘Attis,’ cried Anna, flinging his arms off her. ‘What are you on about?’
His jaw tensed. ‘Nothing.’ He leant towards her but she turned to look out over the balcony, her heart beating with several emotions she couldn’t pinpoint.
‘Can you spot the others?’ She would not look back at him. She would not.
‘There.’ Attis pointed. ‘There’s Rowan and there’s Effie and – Ivor.’
‘Doesn’t that bother you?’
‘Not really. Nobody owns Effie and I wouldn’t want to, but we belong to each other anyway.’
‘I’ll never understand you two,’ she said, more scathingly than intended.
‘It’s best not to try.’
‘I won’t, don’t worry.’ She wanted to shake him, wondering why, when pushed on anything he cared about, he always shrugged and pretended as though everything was fine. ‘I need to go rehydrate Rowan. See you later.’
He didn’t say goodbye, but she felt his eyes on her as she left and could still feel the grip of his hands, telling her to go, to leave. Escape. She wasn’t sure she’d ever understand him.
Rowan downed the bottle of water in one go and then dragged Anna off to find Manda, who appeared to have lost the man she’d been kissing. ‘WHERE IS HE?’ she shouted into the crowd. ‘HENRY? Wait, was his name Henry or Harry? I don’t know but I think he might be the love of my life. I need to find him …’ She stumbled and fell against Anna.
‘I think we need to get you home. Come on.’
They found Effie and disentangled her from Ivor. ‘The Wild Hunt have invited us back to their after-party. Want to go a-maying?’
‘I need to go home, my mum is going to kill me,’ said Rowan. ‘And Manda is – well …’
Manda was stopping random people and asking them if they knew a Hugo. Attis appeared just in time. ‘Come on, Manda, let’s get you some fresh air. Meet outside in five?’
Effie rolled her eyes. ‘FINE.’
‘Goodbye, sweet Dorothy,’ said a voice in Anna’s ear. Oliver took her hand and kissed it. ‘May we meet again.’
‘You get that die fixed, OK?’ She laughed and waved goodbye; his crown glinted under the lights.
They stumbled back out of the Elder Door and into the dark, abandoned alleyway. They looked a mess – faces sweaty, make-up running, hair everywhere. It had been the best night of Anna’s life.
Attis went with Rowan to make sure she got home safely. ‘Better make sure, she’s a bit drunk,’ he slurred. Anna bundled into a taxi with the others, recounting ev
ery detail of the night until Manda fell asleep. Back at Selene’s they put her to bed and then danced around the kitchen, still soaring on the night’s energy.
‘So,’ said Effie. ‘You like Ollie? He seemed to like you.’
‘He was – charming. I don’t know …’
‘No Peter, hey?’
Anna laughed. ‘What about you and Ivor?’
‘Ah yes, my Viking. I always go back to him.’
‘Maybe you guys are meant to be.’
Effie burst out laughing. ‘Meant to be! You’re always so … romantic Anna. I’m not meant to be with anyone. Except Attis, of course.’
Anna wasn’t sure if Effie was joking or serious or just drunk. ‘I don’t get you two,’ she said carefully, ‘you say you’re just friends, or like brother and sister …’
‘I think we all know that’s not true. If there is such a thing as a meant to be – he’s it. He’s mine. But we’re young, we want to be free. We have our own arrangement. All the girls fall in love with him but he belongs to me.’
Their eyes met and Anna wasn’t sure what to say. It was true. He was Effie’s. She’d known it all along but it still felt strange to hear it said out loud.
‘Is he – human?’ she asked. ‘He said he wasn’t a witch when he took the berries …’
Effie laughed dismissively. ‘He was just messing with us. I mean, did you actually see him eat one of the berries? He won’t have, he’s not the opening-up type, but I’ve seen Attis and believe me he’s all man.’
Anna thought of the noises she’d heard in the house at night, the giggling, the moans. She imagined Attis and Effie’s bodies fitting together as if they’d always been two parts of the same whole. It was hard to remove the images from her mind.
‘Come on. Let’s dance,’ said Effie, grabbing Anna’s hands and pulling her up.
When Attis arrived home – damp and considerably less drunk – he found them singing at the top of their lungs and forcing a piece of pizza into the toaster.
‘What’s happening here?’
‘We wanted to see if you can toast pizza. ’S gone cold …’ Effie prodded at it.
He smiled, walking over and removing the knife from her hands. ‘I’ll warm it.’
They talked and ate and laughed and didn’t leave the kitchen until the sun started to rise; only then did it seem right to go upstairs to bed – Effie led them to her room. It was in its usual state – black, postered walls, the floor covered with mountains of clothes and make-up and jewellery, a large magical painting hung up behind the bed, its chaos of colours moving in slow, hypnotic waves.
‘SUMMER’S HERE,’ Effie declared, pulling up the blinds. A soft pink light was rising from behind the houses, seeping daylight into the night above. ‘I love sun and snow and nothing in between. Let’s do magic.’ She turned and gave them that look, that implacable look.
Attis gave her his own indulgent look in return. ‘What do you have in mind?’
Effie bit her lip. ‘Blood magic.’
‘No, Effie. It’s late—’
‘The night is not yet over. Can’t you feel it? The world is waiting for us to do magic!’
‘I really don’t think blood magic is a good idea.’
Effie ignored him. ‘Anna, you’re in, right? Blood is a powerful language. It contains the keys to a witch’s magic.’
Anna felt herself grow excited at the energy building in Effie’s eyes. She looked at Attis, who was willing her to say no, but she found she wasn’t willing to give him what he wanted. Not tonight. ‘Let’s do it.’
Effie hooted. ‘Anna and I are going to do it anyway, Attis, so you can either join or leave us be.’
He exhaled gruffly. ‘Fine. Seeing as you’re both equally mad.’
‘Wait there.’ Effie disappeared from the room.
Anna and Attis surveyed one another.
‘I thought you were the sensible one, Dr Everdell,’ he said.
‘Sorry to have misled you.’
He laughed. ‘I never really believed it anyway.’
‘So am I about to be bled in some sort of May Day sacrifice?’ Anna asked.
‘I don’t think so but I can’t be one hundred per cent sure. Effie is drunk.’
At that moment, Effie appeared back through the door with a knife.
‘Effie, you know you have to ask before you can touch my knife,’ said Attis.
‘I never normally have to.’ She raised a provocative eyebrow and ushered them into a circle on the floor. ‘We need the needle blade.’ She handed it to Attis.
‘I’d advise the painless blade.’
‘No. The needle blade. What’s the point in a blood pact without pain?’
Attis moved the knife through the air, spelling out a specific symbol, and a thin, fine blade appeared from the base. Its tip was glistening sharp.
‘Perfect,’ said Effie. ‘Right, let’s sit.’ She cleared a space on the floor for them, kicking away the debris that covered it. ‘Now, palms into the centre. Attis, I want you to carve the symbol for power into our palms.’
‘I’d rather not hurt you.’
‘Attis. Do we look like we can’t handle ourselves?’
Anna tried to look as sure and strong as Effie, although the words blood pact and carve were going round her head.
‘It’ll be worse if I try and do it,’ Effie threatened.
Attis shook his head and reached out, taking Effie’s palm in his own. The blade was fine, but even so, as he began to draw the symbol across her palm the mark he left was finer still, fine as a needle, a whisper along the surface of her hand, but deep enough for the blood to well up in its path – the symbol bold and fluid and beautiful. Effie looked at it with ravenous delight.
Attis moved and put his hand beneath Anna’s lightly. He drew the blade across her palm so gently that she only felt a slight sting, nothing compared to Aunt’s punishments.
‘I’ll do yours,’ said Effie, taking the blade and copying the symbol across Attis’s palm. His blood rose up, the same deep raspberry red of his lips. Anna winced at the sight.
‘Feel the power of your blood,’ Effie commanded.
Anna didn’t need to look at her hand to feel it – the warmth and vitality of her blood, the pain of the cut, the thrill of the moment, its unsettling intimacy. Magic was in the air and in her body, absolute and unquestionable, as steady and powerful as the beats of her heart.
‘Now we join our hands—’
‘Wait,’ said Anna, her heart stuttering. ‘I’m not sure we should blend our blood. I mean, not mine. I might … infect you guys – you know something might be wrong with my magic.’
Effie laughed. ‘Stop stressing. It’s hardly a lot and, anyway, we’re in this together. That’s the whole point.’
‘But we don’t yet understand—’
Effie grabbed her hand before Anna could protest any further. ‘Together.’ She pulled Attis’s hand to wrap around theirs, their blood trickling to mingle with each other’s.
Anna looked up into Attis’s eyes and could see conflict there too, but he said the words with rough intensity: ‘Together.’
‘Together,’ Anna replied, her heart welling over as the blood had done. They belonged to each other, but somehow – inexplicably – she was part of them too.
They released their hands, the symbol on their palms smeared, but the blood that had trickled onto the floor had begun to form its own pattern – spiralling into circles … the curse mark. Anna looked up, wild-eyed.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Effie. ‘That was likely to happen. We know your magic is connected to the symbol.’ Anna went to speak but Effie stopped her. ‘Do not even mention the word infected or I’ll get bored and I don’t do boredom in the early hours of the morning. Can’t you feel the power of the magic?’
Anna tore her eyes away from the pattern of blood on the floor and tried to block out the fear. She wouldn’t ruin the whole evening; it had all been too perfect. Instead she let he
rself relax back into the feeling of magic from only moments ago – the feeling that had been on the edge of all things, where everything had felt possible, where they had felt invincible. Together. The sun rose like a blood spot over the rooftops, drenching the room in light. They danced wildly until they had nothing left to give, falling onto the bed, finally tired, nothing but the sound of their breaths and thudding hearts.
‘I’m gonna go,’ said Attis, lifting himself up.
‘No, stay with us,’ Effie commanded. She patted the bed seductively next to her and Anna. Anna realized how much of herself was revealed in her dress. ‘We could have some more fun …’
He looked at them for a moment, fiercely, and then laughed. ‘The most tempting offer I’ve ever received but no. Get some sleep.’ He closed the door.
Anna remembered his breath on her neck in Equinox.
‘No fun,’ Effie called after him. She turned towards Anna so they were face to face, eye to eye. ‘Well, I’m not tired,’ she said, her eyelids drooping.
Anna smiled and they found each other’s hands and knotted their fingers together, the blood still on their palms.
‘We’re officially a coven now. We’re going to do great things together. I just know it.’
‘We will.’ Anna wanted it to be true. She wanted to belong to the magical world forever. To Effie’s world.
‘You know, I feel like I’ve always known you.’ Effie smiled sleepily, eyes half-closed, lined with a woodland of dark lashes.
‘Me too.’
‘I’m glad we found each other.’
‘Yes,’ said Anna, holding her hand and holding back tears. ‘I love you, Effie.’
But Effie was already asleep.
DESIRE
Fourteen Years Old
Anna was hungry. She’d been hungry all day.
Aunt placed the chocolate box in front of her, each chocolate, bronzed and shiny, moulded into its own tempting design and slotted into a neat compartment, ready to be plucked. Anna’s fingers itched to reach for one, but she knew these tests were about pain, not pleasure.