Contents
About the Book
About the Authors
Title Page
Dedication
Part I
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Part II
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Part III
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Part IV
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Part V
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Acknowledgements
Copyright
About the Book
THE INTERNATIONAL SWEDISH BESTSELLER
One night, when a strange red moon fills the sky, six schoolgirls find themselves in an abandoned theme park, drawn there by a mysterious force. A student has just been found dead. Everyone suspects suicide. Everyone – except them.
In that derelict fairground an ancient prophecy is revealed. They are The Chosen Ones, a group of witches, bound together by a power, one which could destroy them all. But they soon learn that despite their differences they need each other in order to master the forces that have been awakened within them.
High school is now a matter of life and death.
Because the killing has only just begun.
About the Authors
Sara B. Elfgren and Mats Strandberg first met in 2008. They quickly realized that they shared a passion for stories with young adults in the lead roles, and soon the idea to write a book together was born. The story took shape and when the idea came up to make the main characters young girls who are also witches, everything fell into place. The Circle, the first part in The Engelsfors Trilogy, was released in April 2011. Part two and three, Fire and The Key, will be published in 2013 and 2014.
Sara B. Elfgren started her career in the film industry as a screenwriter. As a script doctor, she has been involved in several Swedish film and TV productions. She has a Master’s Degree in Film Studies.
Mats Strandberg is an author and a journalist. He is a regular columnist for Sweden’s biggest evening newspaper Aftonbladet, and in 2004 the organization Sveriges Tidskrifter (Sweden’s Newspapers and Magazines) awarded him the title Columnist of the Year. Mats has previously released three books, of which the third one, Half Lifes was awarded Book of the Year 2009 by QX.
This book is dedicated to our teenage selves.
I
1
SHE’S WAITING FOR an answer but Elias doesn’t know what to say. No answer would satisfy her. Instead he stares at his hands. They are so pale that he can see every vein in the harsh fluorescent lighting.
‘Elias?’
How can she stand working in this pathetic little room with her binders, potted plants and that view over the school car park? How can she stand herself?
‘Can you explain to me what’s going on in your head?’ she repeats.
Elias raises his head and looks at the principal. Of course she can stand herself. People like her have no problem fitting into this world. They always behave in a normal, predictable way. Above all, they’re convinced that they have the solution to all problems. Solution number one: fit in and follow the rules. As principal, Adriana Lopez is queen of a world founded on that philosophy.
‘I’m very concerned about this situation,’ she says, but Elias notices that she’s actually angry. That he can’t just get a grip on himself. ‘We’re barely three weeks into the term, and you’ve already missed fifty per cent of your classes. I’m bringing this up with you now because I don’t want you to lose your footing completely.’
Elias thinks about Linnéa. It usually helps, but now all he remembers is how they shouted at each other last night. It hurts him to think of her tears. He couldn’t comfort her, since he had caused them. Maybe she hates him now.
Linnéa is the one who keeps the darkness away. The one who stops him choosing other escape routes, the razor that gives him brief control of his anguish, the smoking that helps him forget it. But yesterday he couldn’t cope, and Linnéa noticed, of course. And now maybe she hates him.
‘Things are different in year ten,’ the queen continues. ‘You have more freedom, but with that freedom comes responsibility. No one is going to hold your hand. It’s up to you what you do with the rest of your life. This is where it’s all decided. Your entire future. Do you really want to throw it away?’
Elias almost bursts out laughing. Does she really believe that crap? He’s not a person to her, just another student who’s ‘gone a little astray’. It’s impossible that he could have problems that can’t be explained away by ‘puberty’ or ‘hormones’ and resolved with ‘firm rules’ and ‘clear boundaries’.
‘There’s the University Aptitude Test, isn’t there?’ It just slipped out.
The principal’s mouth becomes a thin line. ‘Even the University Aptitude Test requires good study habits.’
Elias sighs. This meeting had already gone on too long. ‘I know,’ he says without meeting her gaze. ‘I really don’t want to mess this up. I had intended year eleven to be a new start for me, but it was more difficult than I thought … and I’m already so far behind the others. But I’ll get through it.’
The principal looks surprised. Then a smile spreads across her face, the first natural smile of the whole meeting. Elias has said exactly what she wanted to hear.
‘Good,’ she says. ‘You’ll see that, once you decide to apply yourself, things will go smoothly.’
She leans forward, plucks a strand of hair from Elias’s black shirt and twiddles it between her fingers. It glints in the sun, which is shining through the windows, a little lighter at the root, where his natural hair colour has grown out by a centimetre. Adriana Lopez stares at it in fascination and Elias gets the crazy feeling that she’s going to put it into her mouth and chew it.
She notices how he’s looking at her and drops the hair into the wastepaper basket. ‘Excuse me, I’m a bit pernickety,’ she says.
Elias smiles noncommittally – he’s not really sure how to respond.
‘Well, I think we’ve finished for today,’ the principal says.
Elias stands up and leaves. The door doesn’t quite shut behind him. He turns to close it and glimpses the principal in her office.
She’s bent over the wastepaper basket, fishing something out with her long, thin fingers. She drops it into a little enve
lope and seals it.
Elias remains standing there, uncertain of what he just saw. After the last few days he can no longer trust his senses. If it hadn’t seemed so odd, he might have thought it was the strand of hair she’d just removed from his shirt.
The principal looks up. Her expression hardens. Before she manages a forced smile.
‘Was there something else?’ she asks.
‘No,’ Elias mumbles and shoves the door shut.
When it clicks securely behind him, he feels a disproportionate level of relief, as if he had just escaped with his life.
The school is empty and desolate. Only half an hour ago, when he went to the principal’s office, it was bustling with students. It feels unnatural.
Elias dials Linnéa’s number as his boots pound down the spiral staircase. She answers as he reaches the foot of the stairs and throws open the door to the ground-floor corridor.
‘Linnéa.’
‘It’s me,’ he says. He’s aching with anxiety.
‘Yes, it is,’ she answers at last, as she always does.
Elias relaxes slightly. ‘I feel so fucking bad about yesterday,’ he says quickly. ‘I’m sorry.’
He’d wanted to say it this morning as soon as he saw her, but he’d never had a chance. Linnéa had kept out of sight all day. And she had disappeared before the last lesson.
‘I see,’ is her only response.
Her voice doesn’t sound angry. Not even sad. It’s empty and resigned – as if she’d given up – and that frightens Elias more than anything else. ‘It’s not … I haven’t gone back to it. I’m not going to start again. It was just one joint.’
‘You said that yesterday.’
‘You didn’t seem to believe me.’
Elias walks along the rows of lockers, past the deserted group of hard wooden benches screwed to the floor, past the bulletin board, and still Linnéa hasn’t said anything. Suddenly he becomes aware of another sound. Footsteps that aren’t his.
He turns around. There’s nobody there.
‘You promised you’d quit,’ Linnéa’s voice says.
‘I know. I’m sorry. I let you down—’
‘No,’ Linnéa interrupts. ‘You’re fucking letting yourself down! You can’t be doing this for my sake. Then you’d never—’
‘I know, I know,’ he says. ‘I know all that.’ Elias reaches his locker and opens it, stuffs a few books into his black cloth bag and slams the thin metal door. He hears the other footsteps again before they go silent. He turns. Nothing there. Nobody at all. And yet he feels watched.
‘Why did you do it?’
She’d asked the same question yesterday, repeated it several times. But he hadn’t told her the truth. It was too scary. Too crazy. Even for a head case like him.
‘I told you. I was freaking out,’ he says, trying to keep his voice free of irritation, so as not to set things off again.
‘I know there’s something else.’
Elias hesitates. ‘Okay,’ he says softly. ‘I’ll tell you. Can I see you tonight?’
‘Okay.’
‘I’ll sneak out as soon as my mum and dad have gone to sleep. Linnéa?’
‘Yes?’
‘Do you hate me?’
‘I hate the fact that you’re asking such a stupid question,’ she hisses.
Finally. That’s the Linnéa he knows. Elias hangs up. He smiles as he stands there in the corridor. There’s hope. As long as she doesn’t hate him there’s hope. He has to tell Linnéa. She’s his sister in all but blood. He doesn’t have to go through this alone.
And at that moment the lights go out. Elias stiffens. A dim light filters its way through the windows at one end of the corridor. Somewhere close by a door shuts. Then silence settles in.
There’s nothing to be afraid of, he tries to assure himself.
He starts walking towards the exit. Forces himself to keep to a slow, steady pace. Not to give way to the panic rising inside him. He rounds the row of lockers on the corner.
Someone is standing there.
The caretaker. Elias has only seen him a few times, but he’s impossible to forget. It’s those big ice-blue eyes. Eyes that stare at Elias as if they could see all his secrets.
Elias peers at the floor as he walks past. And still he can feel those eyes burning into the back of his neck. He quickens his pace, nausea rising in his throat. It’s as if his heart is throbbing so hard that it’s triggering his gag reflex.
Everything’s been getting better over the last six months. He’s felt that things are happening inside him, that he’s changing. The new psychologist at the CAP centre isn’t an idiot like the last one, and it seems she actually understands him a little. Above all, he has Linnéa. She makes him feel alive, makes him want to leave the suffocating yet familiar darkness.
That’s why it’s so hard to understand why this is happening now – now when he can finally sleep at night, now that he can even feel happy.
Three days ago he had seen his face change in the mirror. He had seen it stretch and contort beyond recognition. And he had realised he was going mad. Hearing voices and seeing hallucinations. It had scared the shit out of him.
For three days he had held out against the razor blades and Jonte’s merchandise. He had avoided mirrors. But yesterday he had caught sight of himself in a shop window, had seen his face quiver and pour away as if it were made of water.
That was when he called Jonte.
You’re losing it.
A strange whisper in his head. Elias looks around and discovers he’s climbed the spiral staircase again and is back in the corridor outside the principal’s office. He doesn’t know why. The lights flicker and go out.
The door to the stairwell slowly swings shut behind him. Just before it closes he hears it. The sound of a soft shoe sole on the stairs.
Hide.
Elias runs along the dark corridor. After each row of lockers he expects someone or something to suddenly appear. Just as he’s rounded a corner he hears the door to the stairwell open far behind him. The footsteps draw closer, slowly but surely.
He reaches the big stone steps that form the school’s backbone.
Run up the stairs.
Elias’s legs obey, clearing two at a time. Once he’s reached the top floor, he continues running towards the little corridor where a locked door leads to the school’s attic. It’s a dead end, one of the school’s forgotten places. There are a few toilets here that no one else uses. He and Linnéa usually meet here.
The footsteps draw closer.
Hide.
Elias opens the door to the toilets and slips inside. He closes the door carefully behind him and tries to breathe as quietly as possible. Listens. The only sound he can hear is a motorcycle accelerating in the distance.
Elias puts his ear to the door.
He can’t hear anything. But he knows. Someone’s standing there. On the other side.
Elias.
The whispering is louder now, but Elias is sure that it’s only in his head.
It’s finally happened: I’ve lost my mind, he thinks, and at once the voice responds: Yes. You have.
He looks out of the window towards the pale blue sky. The white tiles glisten. It’s cold in here. He’s filled with an immense loneliness.
Turn around.
Elias doesn’t want to, but he turns just the same. It’s as if he’s no longer in control of his body. The voice is controlling it, as if he were a puppet of flesh and blood.
He’s standing in front of the row of three sinks with mirrors mounted above them. When he catches sight of his pale face he wants to shut his eyes, but he can’t.
Smash the mirror.
Elias’s body obeys. His grip tightens around the strap of his book bag and he swings it through the air.
The sound echoes off the tiled walls when the mirror shatters. Big shards break off and crash into the sink where they splinter into smaller pieces with a tinkling noise.
Someone mus
t have heard, Elias thinks. Please, let someone have heard.
But no one comes. He’s alone with the voice.
Elias’s body goes up to the sink and picks up the largest shard. He understands what’s going to happen. He feels dizzy with fear.
You’re broken. Impossible to fix.
Slowly he backs into one of the open cubicles.
It’ll soon be over. Soon you’ll never have to be afraid again.
The voice sounds almost comforting now.
Elias locks the door and sinks on to the toilet seat. He struggles to open his mouth, tries desperately to cry out. His grip on the glass shard tightens and the sharp edges cut into his palm.
No pain.
And he feels no pain. He sees the blood trickle from his hand and drip on to the grey-tiled floor but feels nothing. His body has gone numb. Only his thoughts remain. And the voice.
Life won’t get better. Might as well end it now. Spare yourself the pain. Spare yourself the betrayals. It never gets any better anyway, Elias. Life is just a humiliating struggle. The dead are the lucky ones.
Elias doesn’t try to resist as the glass shard cuts through the long sleeve of his shirt exposing the scarred skin beneath.
Mum, Dad, he thinks. They’ll get through this. They have their faith. They believe we’ll see each other again in Heaven.
I love you, he thinks, as the sharp edge starts to slice through his skin.
He hopes that Linnéa will understand that he didn’t choose this. Everyone else is going to think he killed himself, and that doesn’t matter. As long as she doesn’t.
He cuts into his flesh differently from how he ever has before. Deeply and purposefully.
It’ll soon be over, Elias. Just a little more. Then it’ll be over. It’ll be better like this. You’ve suffered so much.
The blood pumps from his arm. He sees it happening but feels nothing and now black spots dance before his eyes. They dance and grow until the whole world is pitch black. The last sound he hears is the footsteps out in the corridor. Whoever’s out there isn’t bothering to move quietly any more. There’s no reason to now.
The Circle (Hammer) Page 1