Grim Hill: Forest of Secrets

by Linda DeMeulemeester

  “I’m staying here,” Amanda announced to our surprise. “My parents are driving north to meet me, so that I can see my grandmother. I called her last night and told her what happened.” Amanda came up and held my arm lightly. “My granny said you are special, Cat. You are a spirit walker, one who can travel in both the human world and the spirit world at the same time.”

  For some weird reason my eyes misted up. It wasn’t every day that an adult or even one of my friends recognized that much more was going on in my life than most people would ever know. And maybe when I got back home, things would change. Maybe this time more of us would remember what we’d just survived. I felt the load I was always carrying around lighten. I nodded and told Amanda to thank her grandmother. The lore she’d taught Amanda had come in handy, and now Amanda and I were on better terms too.

  “One more thing,” Amanda called out as we climbed into the waiting van. “Granny says not to lose faith. You must fight the fates.”

  I shivered, remembering a fortune-teller had once told me something similar. That was peculiar. I didn’t need to fight anything. I was perfectly happy with how everything turned out. I shrugged my shoulders, smiled, and waved goodbye.

  *

  Mom was at the airport and I swear her arms were opened wide long before the plane even landed. After she had squeezed all the air from my lungs, she finally let me go and I noticed for the first time that the waiting area was packed. I did a double take and rubbed my eyes. Mr. Morrows and Ms. Dreeble had come to greet us. I sure didn’t see that coming.

  Mr. and Mrs. Singh were there and so were Jasper’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Chung. Even Mia’s mom was there

  – she had canceled her hospital shift. Mitch’s father looked worse than we did, and only Mitch could have survived his crushing hug. Clive and Skeeter looked around for their grandmother.

  “Your grandmother wanted to be here,” my mom said to them, “but her back was acting up. I told her I’d be happy to drop you two off.” Clive nodded stoically as he put his arm around Skeeter. My heart tugged when I saw how alone he looked.

  “Where’s Sookie, Mom?” But Mom wasn’t paying any attention – she was helping Skeeter hoist up his pants, since he kept tripping over the oversized pair the rescue team had given him. I wondered if Alice Greystone was keeping an eye on Sookie. I knew her sister, Lucinda, had become too frail to travel. When I thought of her failing health, a dart of sorrow stung me and I remembered how unfair it was that the fairies had robbed her of most of her life. Lucinda had been trapped in a fairy circle at my age and released as a little old lady years later, even though to her it only felt like days had passed. I couldn’t imagine anything worse.

  I could see how Sookie would be too tuckered out to travel into the city. My friends and I could hardly keep our heads up and eyes open. Despite a full night’s sleep, we were physically exhausted. Mr. Morrows shook all of our hands and blathered on about how proud he was that we remembered there was no “I” in team. Whatever that meant. Ms. Dreeble gave us all hugs and then had to wipe her glasses because they kept steaming up.

  Clive, Skeeter, and I stumbled to the car, and Mom had to help Skeeter snap his seatbelt shut because he was already out cold by the time he sat down. Clive and I dozed most of the way home.

  As we crossed the bridge into town, I felt that moth-like feeling flutter inside my stomach again. I shivered even though it was a sunny day in June.

  That chill morphed to cold dread when we drove into town.

  CHAPTER 30 - A Dreadful Homecoming

  SOMETHING WASN’T RIGHT. For one thing, when we drove down the main street, many of the shops had their shades pulled down even though it was midday. Even Mr. Keating had his apple barrels tucked inside the store instead of out on his porch, and the window shutters of the Emporium were closed, though I saw people walking in and out.

  When we drove down the side streets, I saw that all the houses had their curtains drawn and their porch lights on even though it was daytime. So odd – I was reminded of someplace else, but my brain was still fogged from exhaustion and I couldn’t put my finger on where it was. I scratched the white scar on my arm – the scar left by a fairy thorn. Ever since we drove into town it had been itching like crazy.

  We pulled up in front of Clive and Skeeter’s house. The lawn was neatly trimmed and the porch swept clean, although it needed to be painted and a broken window upstairs had cardboard taped to it.

  Skeeter could barely be woken, so Mom carried him to the porch. Clive’s grandmother opened the door before Mom could knock. She thanked my mother repeatedly and hugged Skeeter, even though he was asleep and barely stood upright when Mom set him down. Clive undid his seatbelt, but instead of joining his grandmother and brother, he slid next to me into the driver’s seat Mom had just vacated.

  “I just wanted to say,” Clive began awkwardly, “that … well, you’re better than anyone I know at almost everything.” Then he added with only a ghost of a smirk, “Except maybe at social studies.” Clive grabbed my hand and held it.

  Had the world ended? Clive hadn’t even backhanded his compliment by saying “ … better for a girl.” I had to bite back my usual flippant answer. This was unexpected.

  I was surprised to find that Clive’s hand wasn’t sweaty but cool, smooth, and firm. And my hand felt comfortable enclosed in his. How could I have even considered sitting beside Zach at the cafeteria lunch table or hanging out with him at the lockers? Sure he was popular and nice, but it was Clive who had my back. Clive was the boy who drove me crazy, the boy who challenged everyone – especially me. But he always stood up for what he thought was right. And I could always count on him in a disaster.

  As if he read my mind, he said, “I just wanted to say thanks for keeping your head and not panicking, and thanks for,” Clive stumbled through the next part, “thanks for, um, well … being reliable in a crisis.”

  A shadow crossed Clive’s face. It was a look I recognized – Jasper sometimes still had it when he gazed at Mia. “I only wish I could rely on your heart.” He released my hand. I let it hang there, not knowing what to do. But inside my head, I was shouting to myself, “Clive thinks you don’t care for him. Do something!”

  “Clive, I know you’ve been through a trying time, but have you forgotten your manners?” Clive’s grandmother called out to us. “Come and help Mrs. Peters with Skeeter. He needs to be carried to bed.”

  Clive jumped out of the car and before I could say anything, he was gone.

  I had only just figured out which boy I cared for most and lost my chance to do something about it a second later. But Clive was right – my heart wasn’t reliable. First I liked Zach, then I got all confused about Zach, then I got all confused about Clive. Now it was clear that Clive was special to me. But was it wrong that I’d needed time to decide who I wanted to be with?

  As we drove the last blocks to our house, Mom leaned over and patted my shoulder. “You’re done in, aren’t you, sweetie? You’ve hardly said a word.”

  “I just want to get home and crawl into my own bed.”

  When we turned down our street, I saw Jasper and his family. I rolled down my window and waved. Jasper waved back, but only halfheartedly. His face seemed troubled. That’s when I noticed curious music drifting from the river. Trepidation rode up and down my arms and neck as if I were lying on a bed of pins. It was a calliope and I swear it was pumping out the creepy music that I had heard in my dream.

  “Do you hear that?” I asked nervously.

  “Do you mean the carnival music?” Mom pulled into our driveway.

  “Carnival?” Fever chills spread over my skin.

  “The carnival pulled into town last night. You can go this afternoon if you’d like.” Mom smiled.

  “I’m too tired.” I shook my head. But something told me I had to go, to see if it looked like the carnival in my nightmare. “Maybe my friends would like to go tonight.”

  “Not at night!” Mom snapped as she turned o
ff the car. “No children are allowed out at night. It isn’t safe!”

  I stared at my mother. What was she talking about? Then I remembered the image Sookie had shown me in the fairy mirror, of Mom at her wit’s end. “Okay,” I said quietly. “I’ll wait.” I desperately hoped she’d move on from this overprotective streak soon.

  I got out of the car and my jaw dropped as several trucks passed by and swung onto the narrow road leading to the top of Grim Hill. “What’s going on?” I asked. The road had been overgrown since Halloween, but I noticed now that the trees had been trimmed since I had been gone. No one ever went up the hill since we’d closed down Grimoire School. Since then Grim Hill was considered haunted and had become as deserted as a place could be. No wonder Jasper looked freaked.

  “Mom,” I said in a shaky voice. “What’s going on at Grim Hill?”

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you my big news,” Mom said, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “They’re building a posh new private school on top of that hill and guess who they’ve hired as the new school secretary? I can ditch the night school courses with the wonderful salary they’ll pay.”

  This couldn’t be happening. I shook myself. I was still stuck in Headless Valley, delirious without food and water. This was some kind of hallucination. Just a coincidence, Cat, I told myself. Just because you know there’s magic doesn’t mean everything is magical. It could be a regular school.

  Still, it didn’t help when Mom said, “Maybe there will be tuition cuts for children of staff. And you could attend.”

  My heart slammed against my chest. She’d uttered similar words back at Halloween, when she’d been under a diabolical spell. Coincidence, Cat. I breathed and shook it off. “Let’s go inside. I can’t wait to give Sookie a great big hug.”

  “Wait,” Mom said sharply. Her eyes crinkled as she frowned. “Cat, you know how I’ve always told you to be fair-minded and kind to everyone.”

  I nodded.

  “And it’s true we have a certain obligation. After all, Sookie alerted the authorities about where you were.”

  Where was Mom going with this? I nodded again.

  “So I want you to try hard and understand because I’m going to make this extremely clear.”

  Mom drew in a short breath and exhaled slowly. “Under no circumstances are you to have any contact with Sookie. I’m sorry, but I don’t want you mixing with her kind.”

  CHAPTER 31 - An Unsettling Mystery

  BLOOD RACED THROUGH my veins so fast it pounded in my ears. I’d been through a lot – of course, that was it. Maybe I was in shock and I’d misheard my own mother telling me not to go near Sookie.

  “Mom, why are you telling me I can’t see my own sister?” I expected her to laugh, and say, “Good heavens, Cat, what on earth do you think I said?”

  Except she didn’t – instead, she placed her hand on my forehead and stared into my eyes. “I don’t like that bruise on your chin. Maybe you also hit your head. I’m going to get our family doctor to check on you.”

  “No, Mom, I’m fine. I just don’t understand what you’re telling me.”

  “I’m telling you,” her voice dropped to a whisper and she checked over her shoulder as if she was afraid of being overheard. “You must stay away from Sookie. You know perfectly well that there are some things in this town that we just don’t speak about.”

  Trucks filled with building material lumbered past us. The carnival’s calliope music caterwauled eerie tunes in the background. The scent of fresh lavender and jasmine drifted from our yard – shrubs that Sookie had planted. Why, then, did nothing seem real?

  I ran to our door and waited impatiently for Mom to unlock it. Then I flew up the stairs and into my sister’s room. It had disappeared! Not the room – that was still there. Only now it had been converted into a sewing room. Bolts of blue and purple silk lay by Mom’s sewing machine. She’d dragged that creepy seamstress mannequin from the attic and it now looked like a giant voodoo doll, pinned with a blouse she’d been making me for high school.

  There was no big Sookie mess, no tossed bed covers, no art pencils, no glitter pens, no pet hamster! Horror filled me – I’d been through this before, last fall, when Lucinda had taken my sister to Fairy. Sookie had been erased from everyone’s minds as if she’d never existed.

  What did you think, Cat? Your sister stepped through a fairy door to the Otherworld. Of course something happened. Something strange and terrible. Fairy bargains always come with a price.

  Of course. You could practically taste the magic in the air. That’s why your scar was acting up. Sure enough – when I checked the feather fastened to my waist, it didn’t even pretend to be white. It glowed green and blue, then orange and red.

  But something was different this time. I rubbed my aching arm and tried to figure it out. It wasn’t as if Sookie didn’t exist. Mom said she did, just that I wasn’t allowed to see her. I went inside my room and ripped open my backpack. Grabbing the fairy mirror, I practically shouted into the looking glass. “Sookie! What happened?”

  For a long time, the mist didn’t clear. “Sookie,” I demanded. “Where are you? You know I won’t give up until we speak.”

  The mirror still didn’t clear up, but Sookie finally responded. “It’s okay, Cat.”

  “Not likely,” I shot back.

  “I mean, I’m okay.”

  “Where are you?” Was she in Fairy? If she was, how would my mom know that? Things weren’t adding up.

  “Cat, it’s better if we don’t meet up yet. I need you to stay away.” Then the mirror blackened – the mystical light behind it had winked out.

  Right. Well, that simplified things. I changed into my jeans, clean sneakers, and a hoodie, and flew back down the stairs.

  “Where are you going?” Mom asked suspiciously. “I thought you were exhausted.”

  “Second wind,” I smiled sweetly. “I’m going to call on Jasper and check out the carnival.”

  Mom frowned. “I don’t think you’re up to …”

  “I’ll be back nice and early,” I promised. “Long before sunset, that way I’ll turn in early and get a proper night’s sleep.”

  “But you haven’t eaten yet, Cat,” Mom said. “I was fixing you a lunch. I don’t want you filling up on carnival food.”

  “I ate a ton of pancakes for breakfast,” I said, backing out the door. “I’m good until dinner. No junk food, I promise.”

  Before she could protest, I was leaping over our fence and racing through Jasper’s yard.

  He had the door open even before I hit the final step. “Something’s not right, Cat,” he said. Then fear stole across his face as he watched another truck drive past his house and turn up Grim Hill.

  “I know where we have to go,” I said.

  CHAPTER 32 - Carnival of Horrors

  I TOLD JASPER about my mom’s bizarre behavior. Jasper nodded and said, “When I was telling my parents about what had happened, and how Sookie rescued us, my mom acted as if she was having a heart attack.”

  “Let me guess,” I jumped in. “Your parents told you not to go near Sookie.”

  Jasper pushed his old pair of glasses on top of his head. “It wasn’t just that. It was their expressions.” He stared at me. “Cat, they were terrified.”

  “We have to check out the carnival,” I’d already leaped down the steps. “I had this dream – a nightmare – when we were in Headless Valley. It was of a carnival. I’ve a hunch we might find Sookie there.”

  Jasper grabbed a sweater and we were both off and running. We made it to the creek in half our usual time. When we arrived at the carnival, we slammed to a stop. My eyes could barely take in the scene in front of me. The riverbank was lined with booths painted garishly in purple and orange or red and lime green. The eerie carousel from my dream stood in the center. Odd-looking people that I didn’t recognize wandered the carnival grounds. Jasper and I ducked behind a tent, staring in horror as two girls walked by – tall, slim, and shining wit
h a haunting beauty that was marred by their cruel eyes and wicked smiles. They wore black and orange pinstripe Grimoire uniforms.

  “Do you think they are fairies?” I gasped.

  “Yes” was Jasper’s strangled reply.

  Old-fashioned tents flying strange banners festooned the midway. Some booths flew flags displaying mysterious runes. We wound our way through the maze of tents and booths, where peculiar looking vendors with odd colored eyes and thin pointed faces sold their wares, which weren’t your ordinary fair prizes like stuffed alligators and plastic aliens. On the booth shelves sat creepy little dolls, the kind seen in horror shows, with china heads and nasty glass eyes that followed our every move. One booth contained puppets that danced on top of booth counters without any strings. Rattling wind chimes tapped out haunting tunes, and a heavy scent wafted from a tent selling diabolical plants. I recognized them from Sookie’s magical garden – wolfsbane and Spanish moss, mandrake root and yew.

  This wasn’t any ordinary carnival. We didn’t need our feathers to tell us that our town had fallen under a sinister enchantment. Magic was thick in the air.

  We summoned our courage and checked every tent and booth for Sookie. But we needn’t have worried. None of the fairy folk were interested in us. It was as if they thought they had nothing to fear from a couple of fairy fighters. “My sister’s not here,” I said in disappointment. “We may as well go.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Jasper. “I don’t want to stay any longer than I have to.”

  As we left the carnival ground, a thick fog rolled in from the creek. It followed us as we walked down the neighborhood streets. That’s when it hit me. The fog, the closed curtains, and pulled shades on Main Street – the fearful look in the townspeople’s eyes. I’d witnessed all that before when we’d visited the town of Blakulla in Sweden.