by Cari Thomas
‘What do you mean, right now?’
‘I don’t know.’ Rowan sat beside her. ‘I’ve been trying to deny it too, but maybe there’s something going on. Mum still seems a little spooked and the Wort-Cunnings have been meeting more often. These conspiracy theories in the news aren’t going away either. I checked out that Institute for Research into Organized and Ritual Violence. It looks like it only came into existence a year ago, not long before the hangings, and suddenly it’s got all this sway in the media.’
‘The media likes giving voices to the outspoken.’
‘It just all seems weird. The magical world is such a wonderful place. It’s free, you know?’
Anna remembered its wonderful freedoms all too well. She missed it more than she could put into words. Her future was likely to contain little of it.
‘I don’t know,’ Rowan continued. ‘If I’ve learnt anything from the past few weeks it’s that there’s no smoke without fire …’
‘The fire never dies; beware smoke on the wind,’ said Anna quietly.
Rowan gave her a quizzical look. ‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s just something my aunt says. She’s …’ Anna hesitated. ‘She’s a member of a grove known as the Binders.’
‘What are the Binders?’
‘I thought you might have heard of them?’
Rowan shook her head. ‘No, but I don’t like how they sound.’
‘They don’t exactly tolerate magic. They use knot magic to control and manipulate it. They’ve always feared the return of the Hunters, but, honestly, their claims have stopped feeling like the usual fearmongering and started to feel real. I’m worried about what’s going on too, and—’ Anna stopped herself. She had almost told the whole truth, about what the Binders intended to do with her once the year was up, but she sensed Rowan would not take that calmly.
‘Anna, you have to speak to my mum. These Binders don’t sound like a legitimate grove and if they know something about what’s going on we all ought to hear it.’
Anna shook her head firmly. ‘The Binders don’t work that way, trust me, and please don’t tell your mum, OK? After everything that’s happened, I’m asking you that. I need to deal with them – my beloved aunt – on my own.’
Anna couldn’t trust anyone else. Not any more. She’d already said too much.
Rowan’s heavy eyebrows knitted themselves together. ‘I won’t say anything, but I am here.’
Anna nodded, holding her Knotted Cord to stop herself relenting.
‘So with all this fear in the news, do you reckon you could play the piano and silence the whole of London too?’
Anna smiled. ‘We’re going to need a bigger stage …’
Rowan laughed and then fiddled with a weed sticking out of the wall. ‘You know Effie was impressed by what you did. Angry, but impressed.’
Anna shrugged, trying to seem indifferent.
‘She talks about you a lot. Goddess knows I have so much to tell you …’
And that was that, Rowan didn’t stop talking for the next half an hour. Anna listened and was late for class and didn’t care.
That weekend, Anna escaped to Cressey Square garden. She leant her head against the oak tree and took out a book, listening to the hum of activity around her: birds flitting, bees frantic, breeze rustling and dusting off the leaves. The sun was warm on her face. Summer was in the air, like bubbles in a glass, rising to the surface through the earth below.
Things are getting better – school was going back to normal, Rowan was speaking to her again, Peter was taking her to the ball – and yet nothing is OK – the effects of the rumour spell, what they’d done, would never truly go away. Effie isn’t talking to me. Attis doesn’t care. The year is almost up and I have to decide whether to bind my magic – if the decision is even mine. After everything that happened Anna knew that the sensible thing to do was to proceed with the Knotting; she had more than enough evidence to know that there was something wrong – dangerous – about her magic, but with so many secrets still locked away, she couldn’t help hoping that there was another way.
The truth is within the leaves. The mirror within the mirror. The mirror is the key. Nana’s words were maddening, going round in her head every day like a melody she couldn’t forget. She snatched a leaf from a nearby bush – how can the answer be within you? She held it up to the light – there’s nothing there. The mirror within the mirror. What mirror? What key? The key to the third-floor room? The room was all she had left now. Does it hold the answers to my questions?
‘There’s a ladybug in your hair.’
She knew the voice and yet it was so incongruous to the setting, so inconceivable that he should be here, that it took her a moment to recognize it.
‘What are you doing here?’ Her words didn’t come out as a shout, but slowly and icily.
Attis was standing above her, blocking the sun from the pages of her book. ‘OK, it just flew away, we’re all clear.’ He sat down.
‘Attis, go away.’ She closed her eyes. He can’t be here. ‘It’s a private garden. I have a key. You don’t have a key.’
‘I have a key.’ He held up the skeleton key and then put it back in his pocket.
‘You don’t live here. You’re not allowed in this garden.’
‘Stickler for rules suddenly, are we?’
Anna knew she sounded pathetic but this was the one place she could be alone. Where she could escape. The one place that was hers.
‘You’re still mad at me then.’
She refused to look at him. ‘If you’re going to stay, can you go somewhere else? I need to read.’
‘I like this tree though.’ He patted the oak as if they were old friends.
Anna bit her tongue to stop herself from shouting: IT’S MY TREE.
‘Could I just stay for a while? I won’t speak,’ he said. She made the mistake of looking at him. He smiled – a little hopeful, full of open-hearted willingness, a smile so adept to shaping itself to the requirements of the moment it could win awards. It pinned you to the spot while brushing your legs from underneath you.
‘Fine.’ She began to read. He lay back on the grass next to her and watched the sky.
Anna managed fifteen minutes before she broke. ‘What do you want?’
He sat up. ‘You were amazing.’
‘What?’
‘The piano spell. It was amazing. I …’ She’d never seen him lost for words before. ‘Mr Ramsden was blubbing everywhere. Best thing I’ve seen all year.’
‘Why are you here?’
‘I came to see how you are. I’ve barely seen you at school and when I do, it’s like you’re not there.’
‘Ha! You’re the one avoiding me, not the other way around. How’s the coven going?’ She tried and failed to hide the bitterness in her voice.
‘It’s on and off. Not quite the same really. Effie misses you.’
Anna turned away. ‘She made her choice.’
‘You and Effie didn’t have to do that – draw a line between you.’
‘I didn’t; Effie did. Everyone chose their sides anyway.’
‘There are no sides.’
‘Really?’ She looked back into his eyes.
‘She needs you – you’re a good influence on her.’
‘Oh, but she has you.’
He smirked. ‘I have some influence – I’m not sure if it’s good. You still doing magic?’
Anna nodded. ‘I’ve got to decide though. Soon.’
He lowered his head, understanding. ‘What are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know … become a Binder, live with my aunt and maybe, one day, get my magic back. I’m too much of a coward to run.’
‘You’re not a coward, Anna, you’re afraid. It’s different. No one is exempt from fear.’
Anna shook her head at his words. ‘Even after everything, I just – I don’t know how to leave her. She’s my only family.’
He frowned, his face peculiarly a
geless, somewhere between a young boy unsure what to do and a man tired of life already. She wanted to get up and leave, before he found a way into her head as he always did, but instead she found herself asking: ‘Did you ever know your biological family? You said before your father wasn’t your real father …’
He ran his hands through the grass. She thought he wouldn’t answer but then he said: ‘No. I was adopted by my father and his partner, though one passed away when I was ten and the other – well, I haven’t seen him in a while.’
‘I’m sorry, Attis. The one you haven’t seen, is that the professor? Where’s he now?’
‘We had a falling-out. We’re not – we don’t speak now. I don’t know where he is.’
‘Over what?’ Anna knew she was asking too much of a boy who never spoke about himself, but she was hungry to know more.
He took a while to answer, his eyes passing through several grey clouds of thought. ‘Effie. Love. Fate.’
It was a bigger answer than she’d expected. ‘Oh.’
‘No matter. I’m ploughing ahead anyway. Live fast, die young, maybe get a dog – I don’t know.’
‘Right.’ Anna could see he would give her no more today. She could only learn about him a little at a time. Perhaps it was better that way – all at once would be too much.
They sat in silence for a while, listening to the breeze, and then he said: ‘So I heard someone’s going to the ball with dreamboat Peter.’ He made eyes at her. Anna kicked at him. ‘Heard he got you flowers and everything.’
‘He’s a gentleman.’
‘Roses, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’m terribly sorry to hear that.’
‘Roses are a perfectly lovely flower.’
‘They’re boring. A rose is a rose is a rose …’
‘At least he gets a girl flowers, what do you give them, an STI?’
He fell over on the grass as if she’d shot him down. ‘Well, that was uncalled-for. Besides, I don’t go on dates.’
‘Of course, why bother with all the preamble when you can just go straight for the prize?’
‘At least I’m honest about it. You’re just annoyed he bought you generic flowers.’
‘They’re not generic. They’re classic, timeless, romantic.’
‘But, Anna, you are none of these things.’
‘Thanks.’ She gave him a look that could have withered any flower. ‘What should I receive then – a bunch of weeds?’
‘Good question.’ His eyebrows met in thought. ‘There’s the daisy.’ He picked one from the grass. ‘Pretty, understated, undervalued, but no, too common.’ He went quiet. ‘There’s ivy – strong, loyal, but too poisonous perhaps. Or the poppy – a redhead, mysterious, intoxicating, quite the death stare, matches the one you’re giving me right now – but no, no.’ He fell silent again.
‘See, you’ve got noth—’
He sat up, excited. ‘I’ve got it. Springwort.’
‘Now that does sound like an STI.’
Attis snorted. ‘It’s not an STI. It’s a flower. A flower few have ever seen. A flower that belongs to another world.’ He leant forwards. ‘Its stem is as green as your eyes, its petals like your hair – not red, not gold, but somewhere in the middle, bright as a fallen star. It grows only in wild places, hiding away in the dark and lonely shadows of the woods. Its roots are deep; its vines run free; it is rare. They say one drop of its nectar can kill a man or bring him back to life.’ He moved closer to her, holding her gaze. ‘It produces but a single flower, which blooms only once, but when it does the whole world falls on its knees for the beauty of it.’
Silence ensued and Anna burst into laughter. ‘You expect me to believe that? And what is its intoxicating aroma? Bullshit?’
‘No. It smells like a first kiss, like your skin right here …’ He reached out a hand to the side of her neck and she froze.
‘You try that one on all the girls?’ she replied hastily, ignoring the melting feeling down her spine. ‘Does Effie know you’re here?’
Attis dropped his hand. ‘I am able to do some things without her knowledge, you know.’
‘Not much.’
Attis shrugged. ‘She’s my family.’
Anna nodded. That she could understand. Her heart was beating fast. She looked out beyond the park to the row of stern-faced houses beyond. ‘I just wish – I wish I could escape.’
‘I wish you could too.’ He looked so sad then she wanted to reach out and touch his cheek, but as her hand fluttered, his eyes lit up in that way they did whenever he was charged with an idea.
‘Take my hand.’ He extended it towards her. She looked at him warily and, deciding to throw caution to the breeze, moved closer and took it, her skin bright against his smoke-stained fingers. He closed his eyes and focused. She felt the magic pass between them. It didn’t happen all at once, but slowly, like falling asleep, and then suddenly the whole world was different.
The oak tree was still there, rising above them, and the grass beside them and the flowers, but the park … the railings were gone, the road gone, the houses gone. London was nowhere to be seen. Instead the green lawn of the park billowed out, becoming a meadow which extended in all directions, lit with flowers and dotted with trees, dressed up in blossom. Beyond, it extended outwards to fields and wooded hills, the landscape uneven and undecided, full of light and shadow. Wild.
‘What is this?’ she said, looking up at the sky, and then down at the grass beneath her, which looked and felt entirely real.
‘It’s a chimera.’ Attis let go of her hand, but the illusion didn’t falter. She was still here, in this paradise, in a park in London and yet a very long way from the city.
She breathed in. There were no fumes, no wet tarmac; the air was fresh as new grass, as if the green of a flower stem had been cut and spilt over the earth. She pulled a blade of grass and held it to her eye – beyond it the horizon glimmered in the warm, bright sun.
‘It’s not real, is it?’
‘It is and it isn’t. I’ve created it in my head, so it’s as real as any thought.’
Anna smiled and looked at him. ‘I like this thought of yours.’ His eyes were softer here, one lighter, one darker, his smile somewhere in between. ‘Am I in Wales? Is it your memories?’
‘Some memory perhaps and something new too. Let’s call it an escape.’
Anna sank back onto the grass, the sky blue and without edges above her. ‘I don’t care if it’s real or not,’ she said. ‘Not now, not for a while.’
Anna stayed inside Attis’s thought for as long as she could, watching the sky roll through different shades of blue. Attis didn’t speak and she didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t ruin it all, so she was quiet too, watching butterflies and strands of grass fade in and out of focus.
Eventually she knew she had to leave. She was afraid Aunt would come out looking for her and find her lying on the grass in the park in a daze with him.
‘Attis. I have to go home.’
He turned his head to her as if he wanted to say something, but then nodded. The world shifted around them, the horizon diminishing to the park railings, the sound of traffic returning. The sun above them no longer seemed as bright and that scared Anna for a moment, as if somehow the real world would now always fall short.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
His smile was complete. ‘I’ll speak to Effie, OK? She just needs a push to get over her pride.’
Anna was still angry at her, but she missed her more. ‘Would you?’
‘I have some influence, minimal as it is.’
She smiled. ‘Can you just go and see if my aunt’s car is outside the house? I may need to sneak in.’
‘Sure.’ He jumped to his feet and walked to the fence.
Anna leant over and reached a hand inside the pocket of his coat. She pulled out his set of keys. Fortunately the skeleton key was on its own ring – quick and easy to pull away from the others. She slipped th
e keys back into his pocket just in time.
‘She’s there,’ he said, returning.
She couldn’t quite meet his eye. He’d given her a moment of escape, but she needed more.
He picked up his jacket. ‘Don’t take any shit from her now. Right, I’ll see you Monday then.’
‘Bye, Attis and – thank you.’
He nodded, sadly, and left.
She went back to the house, scents of disinfectant souring the air.
‘Anna, is that you? I need your help.’
‘Coming, Aunt.’
Anna wandered into the living room, remembering the sweet freedom of the sky extending in all directions. The rose bush in the corner began to open, one bloom at a time.
‘NO.’ Anna took a cord out of her pocket. ‘NO.’ She made little Choke Knots in it, fear coursing through her. The buds locked tight again.
‘Anna.’ Aunt rounded the corner as the last one closed. ‘I said I needed your help.’
‘Sorry, Aunt.’ Anna bundled the cord up in her trembling hands.
Anna fretted all night that Attis would come back looking for his key. She just needed a little longer. Aunt would be off to work early and then she could do it. She could break into the third-floor room. She barely slept, talking herself into it and out of it and into it again.
In the morning she watched Aunt drive off from the window. She would wait half an hour, to be sure, and then … She pulled the key out of her pocket.
She paced the hallway until it was time. Stepping out in front of the whole school had been terrifying but this was a different kind of fear. A more absolute kind. It was not humiliation she was risking, but her past and her future. It was the sort of fear that was so great you couldn’t look directly at it, but only glance from the side and hope you could still breathe after facing it. She’d been avoiding it for too long. It was time.
She walked up the stairs. The third floor was dark despite the sunshine outside. She put her ear to the door and could hear nothing from behind it. The room where her parents died. I’m sure it’s going to be full of Aunt’s tax files and then I’ll feel like an idiot.
Without thinking, with a lifetime of curiosity urging her on, she put the key in the lock and turned it. She heard it click open and her heart jumped, but then – the key began to bleed. The lock twisted back shut of its own accord and spat the key out onto the floor, blood seeping from the key onto the cream carpet.