by Adam Slater
‘Have you . . . have you come up against anything yet? I mean, anything strange? Have you discovered anything new yet? I mean in terms of you being . . .’
Callum huffed – he wouldn’t even know where to begin. ‘You mean in terms of me being a chime child? Look, Gran, I’m not trying to be awkward, but I think it’s better if we don’t talk about that. Don’t worry, OK? I’ll be fine.’
‘Have you been going over the books?’
Callum shrugged. ‘Melissa was meant to help me with it again this evening, but I guess you both lost track of time.’
Just then, he saw Melissa emerge behind his grandmother in the small sitting room with an apologetic look on her face. ‘Callum, I’m so sorry – I’m meant to be babysitting tonight otherwise I’d stay. Maybe at school tomorrow we can go over some stuff?’
Gran turned around to give Melissa a warning stare, but Melissa held up her hands in protest.
‘Well, obviously I won’t have the books with me or anything, Mrs Scott! I’ll be careful. Nobody will know . . .’ She tailed off as she glanced over and Callum gave her a glare of his own. All he needed was another reason for Gran to fret over their every move.
‘I’ll see you on Saturday, Melissa,’ was Gran’s only reply, though her look still bore a warning.
‘Hang on,’ Callum called as Melissa made her way to the door, then he turned to his grandmother. ‘Uh, Gran, I don’t suppose you could finish off the soup? The bread’s in the oven.’ He hadn’t had a chance to speak to Melissa alone about what Jacob had told him the previous day. Gran nodded mutely and pursed her lips. Callum pulled on a jacket and followed Melissa outside.
‘I’ll just be a sec,’ he called over his shoulder before shutting the front door. He hunched his shoulders against the cold and turned to Melissa who was standing expectantly on the porch. Her feathered scarf threw abstract shadows on the floor behind her under the light of the bulb above them.
‘So what did our Born Dead friend have to say about what happened in Leicester?’ she asked. Callum pressed a finger to his lips – he didn’t want Gran overhearing anything.
‘It’s bad,’ he said quietly. ‘Not only do we have a demon on the loose who is going around eating kids, but Jacob thinks that my vision might mean these humans – a coven, he called them – that they might be planning to sacrifice Black Annis as a way of widening one of the gaps in the Boundary.’
‘Seriously?’
Callum nodded. ‘They might be hoping to bring more dangerous . . . stuff . . . over from the Netherworld sooner than we thought.’
Melissa’s eyes widened with shock. ‘Oh.’
‘There’s another problem,’ Callum said with a frown. ‘He said that my fight with Black Annis may have driven her into hiding. She’ll be much harder to find, which means stopping these coven people might be even more difficult.’
Melissa sighed heavily. ‘Fabulous,’ she said dejectedly. She looked up. ‘But you did what you had to, Callum. She could have killed me! And at least it might buy us some time while she’s not out there hurting kids.’
Callum nodded, but remained silent.
‘I don’t suppose you’ve had any more visions yet?’ Melissa said. ‘If something as big as widening a gap in the Boundary was about to happen, and with these new premonitions, I would have thought you’d get a warning?’
‘Nothing more, not yet anyway.’
‘Well, that’s good, right?’ Melissa said, though her face still looked worried.
‘Yeah, I just wish I felt better prepared,’ Callum said, pressing his hands into his armpits. ‘You seem to be getting on well though.’ He couldn’t keep the hint of jealousy out of his voice, but once again Melissa seemed oblivious.
‘Callum, I bet you’re doing better than you think. I mean, I can’t believe how much Gran’s already taught me. She told me I’m a natural, and that’s high praise coming from her. And look, tomorrow I’ll go over more chime child stuff with you. It’ll be cool, we’ll catch up. Sorry, I know I’ve been neglecting it a bit, but it’s just so exciting learning some real magic, it’s, like –’
‘Melissa!’ Callum interrupted before steam began to come out of her ears. He’d never met anyone better at rambling. ‘Uh, it’s kind of cold out here, in case you hadn’t noticed,’ he said with a grin. ‘We’ll talk at school though.’
‘Oh, of course. Sorry! See you tomorrow, Callum.’
She waved and made her way down the steps. Callum shook his head. If only he had as much faith as Melissa did that this would all work out fine. Gratefully, he returned to the warmth of the cottage – and Gran’s worried gaze.
‘Callum,’ she said.
‘Yeah?’
‘What I meant to say to you earlier was – just be careful, OK?’
Callum was about to retort, but he stopped himself. He knew Gran was just concerned, and he didn’t want to totally shut out the person who he knew deep down cared most about him. Especially when he was trying to prepare for an apocalypse.
He took a deep breath and tried for a smile. ‘I’ll do my best.’
On all fronts, he thought to himself grimly.
Chapter Sixteen
A few days passed, and nothing out of the ordinary happened. No more clues about Black Annis or the coven. Callum thought it was a bit ironic that he was so desperate to hear what would essentially be bad news, but all the waiting and not knowing was really starting to get to him.
School seemed even more mundane than usual, given what he was facing, other than teachers warning the students to be careful given the spate of young people going missing from Leicester. But as Callum was stuffing his maths book into his bag after class, he noticed the two boys near him had their heads bent together while they gathered up pencils and paper.
‘Yeah, it was dead weird,’ one said. ‘We were just coming along the Stockport Road, you know by the industrial estate, at the big roundabout? Well, Dad slowed up to wait for the traffic, and these two little girls in long grey dresses ran right across the road in front of us. They didn’t look, just ran right across the road. Dad slammed on the brakes and honked his horn but they still didn’t look. It was like they couldn’t see or hear us at all. Like they didn’t even know there were any cars around them.’
‘Travellers, maybe?’
‘Traveller kids don’t dress like nuns! And the other weird thing was that when I looked up the drive they’d just vanished. There isn’t really anywhere to hide there. It was like they’d completely disappeared.’
‘Ghosts!’
Both boys laughed nervously.
If only they knew, Callum thought. So Melissa really wasn’t the only ordinary person who was starting to see apparitions. The Shadowing was starting to affect everybody. Even without the threat of the coven and Black Annis, things were stirring in the Netherworld, and Callum would need to fight them – not just in Marlock and Leicester but everywhere. Probably all over the world. Callum swallowed, trying not to let his thoughts overwhelm him. Pushing his seat back as the second bell went, he quickly made his way to his English class.
He was late anyway, and as he sat down next to Melissa, she mouthed, ‘You OK?’
Callum nodded, but was interrupted by Mrs Higgins at the front of the class.
‘Nice of you to join us, Mr Scott,’ she said, raising an eyebrow. ‘Now, if you’d all like to open your textbooks to page fifteen. In fact, Mark, Richard, why don’t you two come up here and act it out for us?’
The two boys made their way to the front of the classroom and began to struggle through the Shakespearean text. After a few minutes, Callum saw Melissa reach over and pass him a note.
You look knackered. Like that leathery demon thing from the chime child books yesterday!
She’d written with a smiley face, underneath five lines of notes on Much Ado About Nothing. Callum chuckled, but then tried to cover as the teacher looked over, pretending to be amused by the scene his classmates were enacting. He hoped it was meant
to be from a comedy.
Callum scribbled an answer below Melissa’s message.
Stress! Still no visions. Heard Tom & Ben laughing about seeing ghosts just now too. Feel like something’s coming, but don’t know what to do about it.
Melissa answered back almost immediately.
It’s good they didn’t really believe it. Did Jacob have any ideas?
Callum glanced over at what she’d written and shook his head.
Melissa shrugged as she carried on writing.
We still have time though, C. You’ve got the hang of healing and shield, right?
Callum read quickly and then scribbled back:
Kind of. Just hate all this waiting around.
Callum didn’t use written communication much – he had no computer at home and no mobile phone, and no one to send letters to anyway. It surprised him how much writing his worries down helped.
If only there was some way to draw Annis out . . .
Are we too old to act as bait for her?!! Melissa wrote.
Callum raised his eyebrows and shook his head disapprovingly, flipping the sheet over to continue on the back. He’d completely lost focus on anything to do with school, English, or Shakespeare . . .
Don’t even joke. You saw what she did to that girl. Seriously, this is not good. Need a breakthrough, and soon.
He slid the page back across to Melissa’s desk, and she nodded at him with a more sombre look on her face. She bent over the paper to write.
I know. Well, it’s Sat tomorrow. Am due round at yours again for magic lesson, and we can do a good sesh on chime child books too.
Callum read Melissa’s note, then glanced over at her and shrugged. It was all they could do really. Melissa beckoned, as if she wanted the page back so she could add something to it, and Callum picked it up to hand it to her.
‘CALLUM SCOTT!’
A copy of Much Ado About Nothing came slamming down on Callum’s desk, pinning down the sheet of paper. Callum jumped and looked up to see his English teacher standing in front of him, seething.
Mrs Higgins wasn’t one of Callum’s favourite teachers. She was a tall, thin woman, and a real stickler for rules.
‘Taking notes on the play, are you, Callum?’ Mrs Higgins asked with icy sarcasm.
Callum stared up at the teacher mutely, too startled to lie.
‘They’re my notes, Mrs Higgins,’ Melissa injected quickly.
Mrs Higgins glanced at her. Melissa might be the class oddball at times, but she was one of the top English students in their year, and rarely gave the teachers any grief.
‘Is that so?’ Mrs Higgins said suspiciously.
‘Yes. Callum asked to see them. We’re only reading through the play at the moment, right? It’s not a test or anything. I thought it would be OK to show him. I mean, there isn’t much there, I guess maybe it’s not worth his while going over it yet –’
‘I’ll take that,’ Mrs Higgins demanded, glaring at Callum and ignoring Melissa’s reasoning. Callum felt panic rising in his stomach. He and Mrs Higgins both reached for the sheet of paper. Callum would have crunched it into a ball and hurled it out the window, if necessary, to avoid his teacher – or anyone else – reading it. They’d been so careless, what were they thinking?
But, to Callum’s surprise, Melissa smoothly pulled the page from his desk a second before either Callum’s or the teacher’s fingers touched it. With the wrong end of her pencil she made a rapid, sweeping gesture over the page, as though she were pretending to rub something out.
Then with quiet confidence, as Mrs Higgins stretched her hand toward her, Melissa handed the teacher the sheet of paper without protest. Callum clenched his teeth and his fists. He sat and waited, looking down at his desk and feeling his cheeks burning furiously as Mrs Higgins scanned the page.
After a moment, Callum heard the sheet of paper being flipped over as the teacher glanced at the other side. Then she tossed the piece of paper down on Callum’s desk and walked back to the front of the class.
‘Go on, Mark. Sorry about the interruption. From: “Everyone can master grief but he that has it.”’
Callum looked at his desk and gasped. He couldn’t believe it. Apart from those five original lines Melissa had written about the opening of the play, the page was entirely blank.
Chapter Seventeen
Flames flicker at the feet of the human magic-users who assemble once more in their meeting place. It has been ten days since they gathered last. The coven members regard one another solemnly, until finally their leader speaks.
‘So far, our preparations have gone to plan,’ Varick begins, his voice echoing around the cold, empty space. ‘Soon our ceremony can take place, and the unknown measures of power that await us all shall finally be revealed. When the Demon Lord treads upon mortal soil, there will be no end to the time of the Shadowing.’
‘Soon may he come,’ the other coven members chant eagerly. Varick holds up his hands.
‘But first, brothers and sisters,’ he says, ‘there is one final element that we require. The most important of all.’
The others nod, but then the grey-haired woman speaks up.
‘Brother Varick, would it not be possible to seize the crone direct from inside her lair? We know the entryway. Surely we could take her by surprise?’
‘Maeve, someone of your years of experience should know that things are never as simple as they seem,’ the red-headed woman, Aradia, interjects, her beautiful emerald eyes glinting in the candlelight.
Maeve frowns at the younger woman but says nothing. She knows that speaking out against Varick’s chosen deputy could mean dismissal from the coven, and she does not wish to risk such a thing when their goal is so close at hand.
‘Aradia is right,’ Varick says. ‘We must not underestimate Black Annis’ power and cunning. She crossed over, just as we had hoped, at the start of the Shadowing, but she has lain low now for quite some time – something has thrown her into a state of caution. Her lair will almost certainly be difficult to penetrate. No, what we need is subtlety. We must lure the hag with . . . bait.’ Varick turns to Aradia.
‘I trust you are up to the task?’
‘Of course,’ Aradia purrs.
*
The boy in the supermarket is around six years old. His chestnut hair forms thick curls, offsetting large, round blue eyes from which fat tears are spilling. His father is doing his best to ignore the child’s loud cries.
‘No means no, Leonard!’ the man says to his son at last, but the boy is relentless, picking up a large, silver-wrapped chocolate bar once more.
‘I want it!’ he shouts, but his father calmly removes the bar from the boy’s hands and replaces it on the shelf.
‘What did I just say? Stop it, now.’ The man turns and begins to browse the shelves further down the aisle, leaving his son to run out of tears. He does not see the tall, beautiful woman with the long red hair watching them from a distance in the store. She makes no pretence of shopping for groceries. She observes the boy carefully, her arms folded.
She has chosen him.
The boy’s sobs continue unabated, but his round eyes soon fall on the red-headed woman. She smiles slowly and presses one long, perfectly manicured finger to her lips.
‘Shhh,’ she says. The boy instantly quietens, though tears still drip down his face. ‘That’s it,’ she says in a low voice. She knows the child can hear her, although she is at least fifteen metres away from him. She pauses for a moment as the boy’s father speaks again – but he does not look round.
‘Finally – thank you! This doesn’t mean I’m not going to tell your mum about how badly you’ve been behaving . . .’
The red-headed woman removes her finger from her lips and holds her hand out in front of her. With a flick of her wrist, something begins to move off the shelf and float towards the boy. Something shiny and silver.
The child gasps with excitement and reaches out to grab the chocolate bar as it moves throu
gh the air away from him. He takes a few steps towards the floating chocolate and then stops. He knows it is wrong. He turns to look at his father, and then back at the treat suspended in the air. He opens his mouth to speak, but the moment he does so, the woman frowns and balls her outstretched hand into a fist.
The boy’s own hand flies up to his face and clamps over his mouth, stopping his words.
‘I said, shhh,’ the woman hisses.
The child’s eyes widen with panic, but he makes no noise. His feet take him slowly, silently, steadily towards the woman – it is as if he is unable to stop himself taking the steps.
It is only when the boy has disappeared from view that his father looks around and sees that his son is gone.
‘Leonard?’ the man calls. His throat is tight. ‘LEONARD?’
It is no use.
Aradia has him now.
Chapter Eighteen
It was a novelty to actually be going to rugby practice, rather than trying to practise his chime child abilities with Jacob. Callum walked out of the changing rooms into the crisp air. The sun had barely made an appearance all day. Still, he felt he could use the exercise and the fresh air – it might inspire him, doing something he actually knew he was good at. And it might fend off the growing worry that if they didn’t get some clues soon, something terrible could take them all by surprise.
‘Come on, Scott,’ one of his team-mates called. ‘First time you’ve been to practice in days and you’re already running late.’
But Callum saw the familiar figure of Melissa striding towards them as he headed to the pitch.
‘I’ll be there in a minute,’ he said. He jogged over to where Melissa was standing, her cheeks rosy from the wind whipping across the open field.
‘What’s up?’ Callum asked.
‘I’ve been thinking about this whole Black Annis situation,’ Melissa said in a low voice, her eyes shining. ‘I have an idea.’
Callum raised an eyebrow suspiciously. Something told him that whatever Melissa’s idea was, it was going to involve something unorthodox at best, and downright dangerous at worst.