by Ruby Brown
Chapter 14
Mal finished drawing the symbol on the cold stone floor of her dad’s shed with chalk, wincing at the rasping sound it made as she drew it away and consulted the design she held clutched in her hand. According to a questionable website she found on the internet, the symbol would hold the ghost in place and prevent it from coming any nearer. Then Mal could question it, find out what it wanted. She triple-checked that she had another piece of paper in her back pocket, inscribed with the words from a banishing spell Mal could use. Of course, she had no idea whether or not these spells would work. A part of her wished she could just wait until the ghost appeared that night, but by that time her parents would be home and she didn’t want to risk it.
Mal lit the candles scattered around the symbol with shaking hands and dropped some herbs into a bowl of water, muttering the words of the spell. She was so absorbed in what she was doing that she didn’t notice the ghost had appeared until she glanced upwards and saw it standing in the centre of the room. Taken by surprise she screamed and jumped back, spilling the water all over her school uniform. Her eyes stayed fixed on the ghost, waiting with baited breath to see if the symbol would work. The ghost wasn’t moving, but Mal couldn’t tell if that was voluntary or because it was bound by the chalk markings on the floor.
“Bit too eager, aren’t you? You didn’t even let me finish the spell,” Mal said, trying to inject some confidence into her voice. She reminded herself that as long as the ghost stayed where it was, it couldn’t get any closer. She was safe. But her memories haunted her and made it impossible for her to stop her palms from sweating. “Who are you? What do you want?” she enquired.
The ghost didn’t move. Its eyes followed Mal around the room as she walked outside of the symbol, getting as close as she dared, simply observing, and raised her head to meet the gaze of the ghost as a challenge, trying to seem braver then she was. But she had to look away when she realised that the head of the ghost could twist around completely, staring at her even when she was behind it. When she found the nerve to glance up again the ghost was wearing something that resembled a smirk, as if it was aware it had intimidated her.
Mal repeated her questions, and this time the ghosts’ mouth moved. Too quietly for Mal to hear, but she could see its lips forming words in the air. Cautiously, she stepped a little closer, shuffling her feet on the dusty floor. “What did you say?”
The ghost spoke again, but still Mal could hear nothing. She crept a little closer, and this time she could hear a low muttering, a torrent of words indistinguishable from each other. She could feel an unwavering chill coming from the ghost, but when she shivered it had little to do with the cold. She was determined to understand the creature in front of her, so although every inch of her being was telling her to stay far away, she nudged herself a fraction of an inch closer. As she did so, the toe of her shoe moved over the lines she’d drawn so carefully, just dipping over the edge of symbol. It was enough. With one swift movement the ghost plunged towards Mal, and before she could do anything she was knocked backwards onto the floor. She managed to catch a final glimpse of the ghost before it possessed her completely.
Then her mind exploded. Mal writhed around on the floor in pain, clutching at her head, screaming. The room in front of her wavered and spun, until it was replaced by darkness, and in the centre of it all was a boy with brown eyes and hair, wearing clothes from another century and a somber expression. The pain disappeared, and Mal waited for the boy and the blackness that surrounded him to disappear as well, but nothing happened. Cautiously, Mal stood up. Her head was pounding and her mouth was dry, so her voice rasped when she wondered out loud where she was.
“In your mind,” the boy said simply, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
“What?”
The boy looked confused. “This is your mind.”
Mal was puzzled, but chose to accept it for the moment. Sometimes it’s easier to just accept things rather than question them too much, and her dad believed that this was the difference separating leaders from followers. “And what are you doing here?”
“I possessed you.”
“So you’re the ghost?”
“I am the body that the ghost was imprisoned in before I died and it was set free.”
“What do you want from me?” Mal asked.
“Your soul,” the boy said simply, as if he was asking for a glass of water.
“Um...well I’m kind of using that at the moment, so maybe not.”
The boy looked annoyed. “I have been given instructions to retrieve your soul.”
“Instructions from whom?”
“The one who controls the flames.”
Mal thought for a moment, and then her eyes widened. “You mean the spirit of the first mage to ever use fire magic?”
“I think so, yes.”
“Why? What do you want with my soul?” Mal demanded.
“Your soul is simply proof that you have died. By wrongly naming yourself a fire mage and dirtying his artefact with your dirty blood, you have offended him and proved yourself to be a liar.”
Great, someone else who wants me dead, Mal thought to herself. What am I doing that pisses everyone off so badly?
“Why didn’t you kill me back in the corridor, when there was more of you?”
“We tried to,” the boy said, anger creeping into his voice. “There was enough of us to overpower your mind and crush your heart in an instant. It’s more difficult with just one, but I will not endanger my brethren by calling them to this place with your symbol on the floor. They could become trapped.” He sounded accusatory now, but then a smile flickered across his face. “No matter. While we have been talking, I’ve successfully managed to overtake most of your body. All I have to do now is kill you, and the rest will be mine.”
“But I was only trying to protect myself!” Mal cried.
“Irrelevant,” the boy said, his voice now strangely mechanical as he started to walk towards Mal.
“Stop moving!” Mal shouted, holding out her hand.
“You will die now,” the boy said pleasantly, and begun his attack.
Mal fought back viciously, taking out all the anger and frustration she’d felt for the past few months. But the recent onslaught of pain had weakened her, and the boy was unbelievably fast and strong. He darted around Mal’s frail body and sent her flying with a powerful kick. As Mal landed on her back and coughed up blood, she remembered that she had a banishing spell. She looked up just in time to roll away from another attack, and grabbed the precious scrap of paper from her back pocket. The boy roared in anger when she started to read out loud, realising what she was trying to do. He doubled his attempts, but Mal was fuelled with a new hope that kept her going through the supernovas of pain that his attacks inflicted. She glanced down at the piece of paper in her hand and read out the final sentence, then looked up and screamed as she saw the boy was inches from her, his fists raised to deliver the final blow. She dropped the paper and flung her arms up to protect herself, but nothing happened. Cautiously, Mal peered out from her arms to see that the boy was completely frozen in place. Suddenly, he collapsed. There was no other word for it. He just seemed to break apart all at once and then fall into a small pile on the floor, the only proof that he had ever existed.
The next thing she knew, Mal was back to lying on the floor of the shed, gasping for air. Briefly, she wondered if the whole thing had just been an incredibly vivid hallucination, and maybe she was insane like her parents suspected, but then she looked down and realised that she was covered in blood. Mal groaned. Thank god she knew how to get blood out of her clothes from...um...other experiences. Otherwise, it would be incredibly difficult to explain to her parents. Mal forced herself to stand up and grabbed her camera, which she had set on top of one of the shelves and angled it so that it would capture every moment of her ritual. She wanted proof.
Mal cleaned up the shed as best she could and then stumbled back to
her room, peeled off her bloody clothes and carefully washed the blood from her face and hands. Then she put on her pyjamas and anxiously reviewed the footage from the camera while sitting cross-legged on her bed. She winced when the ghost possessed her and she fell to the floor, remembering the agony that had consumed her in that moment. During the possession, her body kept switching between her and the boy, jerking from side to side as the two people inside Mal’s head spoke and their voices came out of its mouth. Then the body began to kick and punch at thin air, which Mal could only assume was her fighting the boy, and every now and then a bruise or some blood would appear as if the body was being attacked by an invisible force. Mal reasoned that this was the result of the boy fighting back.
Once the fight was over, Mal turned off the camera and placed her head in her hands. She was shaking badly, overcome with a mixture of shock, fear and relief. She forced herself to maintain her composure when her parents arrived home, but couldn’t stop her anxiety from mounting as 6 o’clock drew nearer. Her parents started looking at her strangely as well, preparing themselves for Mal’s latest freak-out, as they had learnt to expect them at this time. But the clock struck six, and no ghost appeared. It was over. Mal smiled genuinely at her parents, reassuring them, and they weakly smiled back, their faces showing a mixture of confusion and relief. They relaxed further as the night went on and they realised that Mal was okay, and the whole family reached a silent decision to put the whole event behind them and pretend as if it never happened.
Chapter 15
“See?” Mal said triumphantly, pointing at the video playing on her laptop. “I wasn’t just imagining! The ghost was really there!”
Rose and Dallas sat in stunned silence, staring at the screen. Mal was pleased to see that even Rose wore a surprised expression. Despite their protests, Mal had made them sit down and watch the footage from her possession, as proof that she wasn’t completely insane. When the video stopped, Mal leaned against the table and crossed her arms with a smug smile on her face. “I’d like an apology, thank you very much.”
Dallas apologised almost immediately, but Rose turned almost as red as the flower she was named after and refused to meet Mal’s eyes. Mal stared at her for a few seconds before deciding to drop it. She’d never really expected Rose to apologise anyway. “Has this happened before?” Mal asked.
“Not that I know of,” Rose mumbled. Dallas just shook his head. “If it did, it would be in the records somewhere. Let’s go ask Cass and Blaise,” Rose continued, grabbing the laptop and hauling Dallas to his feet. Mal followed them to the office, and thankfully it was Cass that answered the door this time. She smiled in a tired sort of way when she saw them and let them in.
Blaise was sprawled on the couch and he groaned when he saw the three of them. “You lot, again. What do you want?”
They ignored him and watched as Cass cleared stacks of paper from around her desk so they could sit down. “You look like you’ve been busy,” Rose said, scanning the messy room.
Cass sighed. “Yes. As you’re both well aware, times are difficult right now. But we’re doing our best, I promise you.”
Mal cast a glance in Blaise’s direction. He didn’t look like he was trying at all. She turned back around when she heard Rose place her laptop on Cass’s desk and ask Mal to explain everything that had happened. After Mal had finished her speech, she played the video and then asked them the same thing she’d asked Rose and Dallas, has this happened before?
Cass chewed anxiously on her nails. “I checked the records thoroughly before Mal’s initiation. Even though I found plenty of information on people who had been initiated into the wrong house for various reasons, there was nothing about any kind of ghost.” Mal believed her wholeheartedly.
“Blaise? Did you check the records?” Mal asked.
Blaise drew himself up a little taller. “I’ve got more important things to do,” he said dismissively.
“Why did it appear at six o’clock every night? What’s so special about that time?” Rose asked.
Cass thought for a moment, and then said “I remember seeing the clock in the hall as Mal put her blood onto the artefact. As I remember it, it was six o’clock.” Cass buried her face in her hands, and she looked so exhausted that Mal insisted they leave. Rose tried to protest, but Mal grabbed her and pushed her out the door with Dallas scurrying behind them. That was the end of it for the next few days, until Rose came running up to Mal while she was training in the gym with fury in her eyes. “Blaise knew,” she said angrily, and turned around to hit one of the punching bags hanging next to her.
“What do you mean?” Mal panted, grateful that Rose had shown up and given her an excuse to take a break. She glared enviously at Trixie who was leaning against the wall and sipping from her water bottle, watching with casual interest. Mal had asked her to help her train.
“I went to his office to ask him to sign something, but he wasn’t there and it was really important so I started going through his stuff looking for a pen. I opened one of the draws and he was hiding a records file in there. Not just any file, but one that contained information about the ghost that was haunting you. It turns out that this kind of thing has happened before, and everyone else that came up against the ghost died. Blaise got really angry when he came back into the office and found me there. He hit me,” Rose fumed, pointing at the bruise on her left cheekbone.
Trixie leapt up and examined Rose’s face. First-aid was her speciality. “It doesn’t look too bad. Use an ice pack,” she said. “You still look really pretty,” she reassured the older girl, patting her arm.
Rose laughed. “Thanks.” Trixie smiled, convinced her job was done.
“Why would Blaise hide that file from Cass?” Mal asked.
Rose rolled her eyes. “Sometimes, Mal, you’re really thick. No offense.”
“How is that not offensive?”
“Anyway, Blaise was hiding that file because he knew that if Cass saw it she’d never let you be initiated in the wrong house. She cares about you too much. For some reason, Blaise wants you dead.”
“Hold on,” Mal said. Her head was spinning. “Isn’t that a bit too overdramatic? We don’t know that for sure yet.”
“Again. Thick,” Rose said, and jabbed Mal’s forehead with the tip of her finger. “Why else would he let you go to the wrong house when he knew what would happen? He purposely put your life at risk.”
Mal was about to ask why, but stopped herself. She didn’t want to be called stupid again. Thankfully, Trixie asked for her. “Why would anyone want to kill Mal? She’s nice.”
“Mal, you have powers beyond the comprehension of anyone here. Running through your veins is the power to destroy entire worlds. I wouldn’t be surprised if Blaise was jealous.” Rose thought for a moment, and then said “I think we need to train you up a bit more. Like seriously, put some effort in and focus on your magic more than anything else. There’s no doubt Blaise will try again, and you need to be able to protect yourself.”
Mal found herself more annoyed then she probably had a right to be. She knew she was hardly an expert, but she’d been trying her hardest to improve her skills. Nothing she ever did seemed good enough for Rose. She was starting to understand how Thomas felt. What stopped her from saying this to Rose was the fear that without extra training she’d be completely unprepared for the next attack. Last time she’d almost lost her sanity as well as her life. Besides, now that they were fighting against Blaise, Rose and Dallas would be powerful allies. They both held positions of influence in Tenebar, and they knew Blaise better than she did. So she just nodded and watched as Rose’s eyes lit up and a determined expression set across her face the way it did when she was thinking intensely about something.
“After you’ve finished your training session, meet me at the library,” Rose said with finality in her voice, and then she turned around and started to walk away.
“Wait!” Mal gasped out desperately. “Why don’t we go now? I’m s
ure I’ve done enough exercise for today.”
Trixie looked down at the sheet in front of her that displayed Mal’s workout. “You’re not even halfway through.”
Mal leant forward and rested her hands on her knees. “Are you kidding me?” she muttered.
Rose smirked. “Nice try Mal,” she said, and then walked away, the guns on her hips glinting in the fluorescent light.
Half an hour later, red-faced and covered in sweat, Mal met Rose and Dallas. They took in her dishevelled appearance with mild disgust, but didn’t say anything. Rose led them into the library and they sat down at one of the tables, talking for hours and occasionally pulling heavy, dusty books from the shelves to support their points. Their main objective was to somehow get Mal to spend more time at Tenebar so she could train, but without arousing the suspicion of anyone who knew her. Mal was troubled by some of their earlier suggestions, such as erasing the memory of her parents or faking her own death, but by the end of the discussion they’d reached some kind of compromise.
The next day, Mal walked home from school, clutching a piece of paper in her sweating palm. The piece of paper was a letter Mal had written to say that she had been picked to attend an educational camp lasting for two weeks. She’d spent hours carefully crafting the note to make it look as legitimate and official as possible, but she still didn’t know if it was enough. She opened the door to her house and nervously handed it to her dad, gabbling some speech that she hoped sounded believable as he inspected it. He didn’t say anything, just carefully scanned the words with intense eyes. Mal could feel her mouth drying up, so she grabbed a glass of water. To her surprise, when she lowered the glass she saw Peter signing the note. He folded it up carefully and handed it to Mal with a weary smile on his face. “Sounds like a great opportunity. Have fun,” he said. Still unable to believe that the first part of the plan had gone so well, Mal practically seized the note from his hand in case he changed his mind, and went to her room.