Grim Hill: The Family Secret

by Linda DeMeulemeester

  “Look at the lights on the water,” said Clive. “I’d like to grab a camera or a paint brush and capture it forever.” He pointed at the water’s edge. The carnival lights danced on the sea’s currents, blurring the colors together. I didn’t know Clive had an artistic side.

  “This place is so great, and I’m having the best time,” I said, a little more awkwardly than I’d intended.

  “It’s always more fun when all you have to care about is yourself.”

  Again, it was as if Clive knew exactly what I was feeling. Then he pointed at his watch and his smile dimmed. “We’ve got to meet back with the teachers soon.

  I can’t wait until I’m old enough to stay out as late as I want,” he complained.

  “That goes without saying,” I agreed, not wanting this evening to ever end.

  After we left the Ferris wheel, Zach got the idea to ride the carousel, even though it looked like a little kid’s ride. But we all agreed and climbed onto horses that lurched forward with the squeal of ancient machinery after the sound of a bell. Suddenly, Zach reached over and swept me onto his horse. Then everyone started goofing around and laughing. But Clive, sitting on the horse beside ours, kept sending me mutinous looks. Then Amanda, who had taken the horse ahead of us, looked behind her shoulder and glared daggers at me.

  After the carousel the girls and guys argued over staying at the rides or spending the remaining time at the arcades.

  “Let’s flip a coin,” said Mitch. “Heads or tails?”

  We lost. But I wasn’t really interested in watching them all show off at the arcade. Who cares how many plastic ducks a person shoots? Instead, Amarjeet and I broke away and wandered the fairground. The sawdust and diesel smells hung in the air, and soon we stumbled upon a small tent displaying a line in Swedish and English: Fortunes told. We could hear the beat of a drum coming from inside.

  “Ooh, do you want to go in?” asked Amarjeet.

  “Not really,” I said. For some reason my heart took a little jump.

  “Hey, there you are,” said Jasper joining us. “We’re supposed to head back soon.”

  “Five more minutes,” said Amarjeet, digging in her pack for money.

  “No time,” I said, pulling her away from the tent. Then the drumming stopped.

  A woman burst from the tent and cut a deliberate path toward us. My heart flipped again. She was dressed in strange old-fashioned clothing and there was something about her sweater and hat that made me think of the north pole. Her dark hair and complexion glowed under the park lights as sweat dripped from her forehead.

  The three of us froze as she came toward us. Then she reached over and grabbed my arm in an iron grip.

  “Your life is growing harder,” she began. Her accent wasn’t lilting and light. She spat her words out as if they were leaving a dreadful taste in her mouth. “You must prepare yourself for a great change. Dark obstacles loom in your future as the otherworld’s forces gather. I must warn you …”

  With all my might I tried yanking my arm from her grasp, my heart pounding in my throat.

  “Child, the fates have turned against you,” she said in a hollow voice. “When a rainbow of light spans the heavens, the next day you will drown.”

  Amarjeet gasped, and Jasper tried pulling me away. But I couldn’t move or utter a sound as her words rattled in my ears.

  “You must gain magic to battle the fates.” She thrust a knotted rope into my jacket pocket. “Use this rope when the time comes. It can unlock nature’s darkest power.”

  She shook her head vigorously, her dark hair flinging about. “But each time you succeed, worse will wait.” Then her eyes rolled back into her head, leaving only slits of white.

  CHAPTER 12 - The Journey Darkens

  THE CREEPY FORTUNE-TELLER kept me in her grip, and I was paralyzed. My eyes blurred as dark shadows crept in and settled over the amusement park. The squeal of the rides and clamor of the crowd first hushed then thrummed in an eerie whine. The calliope from the carousel piped out a nursery tune that now sounded more like a funeral march.

  The fortune-teller’s eyes snapped back into focus, and I tugged my arm free, falling back against Jasper.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he said. “Fast.”

  A crowd had gathered around us, and for a moment the fortune-teller seemed confused. Spotting me, she fastened her gaze with ferocious intent.

  “Do not let the fates decide,” her otherworldly voice pronounced. Then with a swish of her felt skirts, she turned and drifted back to the tent.

  “What was that about?” Amarjeet said in alarm.

  But before I could answer, I felt a light tap on my shoulder. In front of me stood a young man, maybe a senior in school.

  He said in English, “That woman is a Sámi shaman from Lapland. I know she just gave you a fright, but be careful. Shamans have uncanny powers, including second sight.”

  Shaken, I nodded and then followed my friends to the arcade zone. The sun had completely sunk in the horizon, and twilight devoured the ground behind me. The chill night air gnawed through my jacket making me shiver uncontrollably. We spotted our group and began rushing back to the gates to meet up with our teachers. All the while Clive and Amanda complained bitterly how we’d made them late and we’d all get into trouble, but I wasn’t paying attention.

  What did the shaman mean when she said I must battle the fates? I kept thinking about her strange revelation over and over again, desperately searching for some way to make it a misunderstanding. But I couldn’t think of any logical explanation for what had happened, and my spirits sank deeper.

  As if reading my mind, Jasper pulled me back, and we trailed behind the others. “Cat, about what she said. Remember, no one can tell the future.”

  Every part of me wanted to believe him. “Why here?” I whispered harshly. “I mean, she was talking about otherworldly stuff, right? But we’re thousands of miles away from Grim Hill.”

  “Exactly.” Jasper was trying to sound reassuring, but his eyes looked troubled. Then his face brightened a little. “Are you wearing your feather?”

  “Always.”

  “Me too. The feathers are fairy objects, and if she really does have powers, maybe she was sensing your past fairy encounters from the feathers.”

  That made sense. My insides unwound, and I took a deep breath. But I touched the shaman’s knotted rope in my pocket. Then I laughed a little to myself. Me? Gain magical powers? She sure had the wrong sister.

  With a calmer heart we rushed through the gates to where Mr. Morrows, Ms. Dreeble, and Ms. Grimmaar were waiting with Sookie. Mr. Morrows was tapping his foot impatiently, but we weren’t the last group to report back, and our teachers saved their annoyance until the final stragglers came through the gates.

  “If people can’t report back in a timely manner, there will be no other excursions on your own,” Mr. Morrows blasted the stragglers. It was as if our group’s lateness had been forgotten.

  “Did you see Pippi Longstocking?” I asked Sookie.

  “Uh huh,” she grunted as if the whole idea was boring to her. Then with more enthusiasm she said, “We went to fantasy land too, and they have a snow queen and a witch. And Cat, did you know …”

  “Yeah,” I said, cutting her off. I had just wanted to hear if she had a good time, not get the entire play-byplay. “Hey, where are your glasses?”

  Sookie’s lip curled slightly in annoyance, but then she got a mischievous look in her eye and pulled the glasses out of her pocket. “Fine,” she said as she put them on.

  “We have to hurry or we’ll miss the ferry back to Gamla Stan,” Mr. Morrows ordered. And even though our group wasn’t on his bad side, we scrambled with everyone else.

  On the trip back, the harbor was jammed with other vessels, and our boat bounced on the waves. The wind cut through my jacket and I huddled between Jasper and Amarjeet. Clive and Amanda were still giving me mean looks. Zach, Mia, and Mitch hung over the ship’s rail with us as we w
atched the city lights reflecting against the water. We disembarked, and I asked my sister, “Where are your glasses now?” If I had to keep making sure she wore them, it would undo me on this trip.

  “They’re gone,” she said.

  “Gone where?”

  “They slipped off my face,” Sookie said with a wicked smile, “and fell into the water.”

  I was about to yell at her, but then I realized there was nothing I could do about it. But still I felt angry because Mom had paid a lot of money for those glasses. And there was no way glasses just slipped off a person’s face and fell over the edge of a boat, particularly when that person was much shorter than the railing.

  “Oh, little one, are you giving your sister a hard time?” Ms. Grimmaar joined us. “Did you tell her how the glasses flew off in the wind?”

  “I tried,” Sookie said petulantly. “But I don’t think Cat believes me.”

  “You didn’t mention the wind,” I said suspiciously.

  “This child’s had a very long day,” Ms. Grimmaar explained. “All of you have. Even your teachers look exhausted.”

  It was true. Mr. Morrows hovered around us keeping watch, but he was losing steam. Ms. Dreeble was unusually quiet and she slumped against the wall. We walked slowly back to our hotel, and I was grateful Sookie preferred to stick with the teachers so I didn’t have to see her smug expression. Just my luck that the new headmistress had taken a liking to her – now I really would be at my little sister’s beck and call.

  Worse, when we got back to our room, Sookie wasn’t one bit tired. Instead, she sat up in our bed going on about her day and about Ms. Grimmaar and how lucky we were to have such great teachers and did we know …

  “Can your sister pipe down? I need some sleep,” complained Mia.

  Amarjeet agreed. “Who’d have thought out of the four of us she’d be the party animal.”

  It was true – Sookie was wound up and showed no signs of slowing down. “Why don’t you write your day down in a travel journal?” I suggested. “That way you won’t forget your fun time.” And you’ll finally keep quiet, I thought.

  “That’s a good idea!” Sookie jumped out of bed and went to the desk. She pulled out some stationery from her suitcase and grabbed a hotel pen. Using her left-handed hook for writing, she put the pen to paper but didn’t start in her usual hastily scribbled printing. She stuck her tongue out as she concentrated and labored on her letters. “Ms. Grimmaar asked if I knew how to write, not print. This way I can practice.”

  Even though the light was still on there was blissful silence, and the rest of us were able to fall asleep.

  There’s a splash and I’m sinking deeper and deeper into a watery, icy grave. When I try to swim back up to the surface, something has got me in its grasp and no matter how hard I kick and struggle, it won’t let go. When I look beneath me, the shaman is holding my foot, her skirts and hair billowing up in the water like seaweed, and her eyes only white slits. She’s pulling me down, but when I try to scream, water gushes into my mouth.

  “Cat!”

  I gasped and sucked in a deep breath.

  “What is it with you two?” Mia said groggily. “First your sister keeps us awake chattering like a noisy squirrel, and now you don’t shut up in your sleep.”

  “Sorry,” I sputtered and turned toward her. Sookie had tangled herself up in all the covers again. “What was I saying?”

  “‘It’s got me,’ over and over. Trust me, if I don’t get some sleep, I’ll get you myself.” Mia turned away.

  Still shivering, I huddled under the covers. But it was a long time before they warmed me up.

  CHAPTER 13 - A Chilly Greeting

  AS WE LEFT Stockholm, our train was shrouded in silence. The chilling fog that had settled outside dampened our enthusiasm. When we stared out the windows we could only see a blur of white, and the clanging of the rails was the only sound as our train left the city behind.

  I sighed wearily and rubbed my eyes. Usually my dreams had evaporated by the light of day, but not this time. The fright of it lingered and I couldn’t get rid of a hollowness in my stomach. It reminded me of a feeling I’d had before – like I was hungry, but nothing seemed appetizing.

  Slowly the fog lifted and we sped west from Stockholm toward our destination, the town of Blakulla. Ms. Grimmaar stood at the front of the train’s car and explained what we were seeing out the windows. Sookie sat right beside her, which was fine by me. Maybe there were benefits of her being the headmistress’s pet.

  “We are traveling west along the Göta Canal,” Ms. Grimmaar said in her sing-song accent. “This canal links the Baltic Sea to the Northern Sea, and here you will see some of the most beautiful scenery in Sweden. It will change dramatically as we leave the pastoral farmlands and travel north to wilder troll country.”

  Some people said “cool,” and Sookie squealed in delight. Just as our spirits were beginning to rise, Mr. Morrows jumped up from his seat to seize what he called a “teaching opportunity.”

  “The canal was built in the early nineteenth century. Why do you suppose Sweden wanted a huge canal?” Mr. Morrows quizzed us.

  Everyone shuffled uncomfortably in their seats and stayed silent. Mitch pulled his baseball cap over his face as if it would make him disappear. Mia twisted a strand of her red hair and furrowed her brow, pretending to be deep in thought so the teachers would leave her to it. Jasper probably knew the answer but he wasn’t a show off, unlike …

  “Yes, Clive?” Mr. Morrows seemed relieved. It occurred to me that maybe our teacher was trying to impress the exchange school’s headmistress. I looked at Clive.

  “That would have been after the Industrial Revolution,” Clive began. He was all about the Industrial Revolution.

  “Right,” Mr. Morrows said encouragingly – or was it desperately?

  “So there would have been lots of mining going on and no trucks or even trains. Water would be the best way for transporting resources.”

  “Also the cheapest way,” Mr. Morrows beamed.

  “Did the trolls do the mining?” Sookie chirped.

  Everyone burst out laughing, but not in a kind way. My face burned. But then Ms. Grimmaar came to the rescue.

  “No, little one, that would be dwarves. They love to mine. But you are onto some of our Swedish legends,” she said, winking at my sister. “Trolls are much lazier and steal all the silver and gold they can get their hands on.” Then Ms. Grimmaar said in a serious tone, although she had a slight smirk on her face, “Trolls are stupid, nasty, ugly creatures and they are also dangerous – especially the water trolls. You must watch out for them.” Her mouth twitched back a smile.

  There was a round of chuckles as Sookie’s eyes grew wide as saucers. Clive turned to me with a strange look of enjoyment as he watched my embarrassment. What was going on with him? Sometimes he seemed so friendly, but other times he acted like such a jerk.

  Once Ms. Grimmaar had wrestled the teaching moment away from Mr. Morrows, we all began to relax and enjoy the fantastic scenery. The snow had mostly melted, and I gazed out at the tributaries and rivers and rolling hills.

  By the time we approached Lake Vättern, it felt like we’d journeyed from Stockholm to another country in another time. Old Viking fortresses and castles scattered the forested landscape. Gradually, the trees gave way when the train pulled into Vadstena. The town had a gigantic castle on the lake’s edge with strange rounded domes and weathered gray stone. It looked like the kind of place that would be filled with torture chambers.

  “This is where we switch trains and head north,” announced Ms. Grimmaar. A few of us groaned as we’d been on the train for almost two hours. But she said, “I’m sure the amazing lunch we have planned for the end of your journey will cheer you up.”

  Once we had switched trains and were chugging our way north, the pastures and farmland gave way to even more brooding dark forests. Craggy, jagged mountains shot up in spikes, and some of them had odd little cable ca
rs that Ms. Grimmaar called “funiculars.” The countryside seemed strange and unsettling, and the hollowness in my stomach returned.

  *

  When we finally arrived in Blakulla, the first thing I noticed was its namesake. The mountain rose forebodingly over the town, a spiked blue shadow, crooked like a cruel beckoning finger. There was no way I was going near the place. We left the train station and walked through the narrow medieval streets where flags hung from the windows above us. A local hotel on the lake’s edge had set up a traditional Swedish smorgasbord for our lunch. My stomach was feeling a lot better and my mouth watered at the idea.

  “Let your sister sit with the teachers,” advised Mia. “Let’s grab a table for the rest of us.” I agreed but felt a little guilty when Sookie wandered my way and saw I hadn’t left her a seat. She stared at me for a second, shrugged her shoulders, and went to join the teachers.

  We sat near a window that looked over a misty lake. It was filled with tiny islands and went on so far you couldn’t see the shore on the other side. As my eye swept past the town, the landscape grew eerie. I hugged myself and tried not to shiver.

  “It is drafty here,” complained Amarjeet. She wound her thick scarf around her neck. “But I don’t want to give up the view.” Soon Mitch and Jasper joined us by pulling up their table, and so did Clive. When Amanda and Zach pulled their table next to ours, Clive’s face puckered into a frown. I got the feeling he wasn’t crazy about Zach, but why? Unlike Clive, Zach was nice to everyone.

  We were about to dig into salads, ham, deviled eggs, shrimp … the dishes went on forever! Mia and I had even helped ourselves to delicious smelling coffee. “I’m so glad there are no parents here to tell us we’re too young for coffee,” Mia said.

  Just as I sat down, Ms. Dreeble came over.

  “Your aunt has arrived,” she said.

  I pulled back my chair and followed Ms. Dreeble and a subdued Sookie through the tapestried halls into the ancient and stuffy-smelling hotel lobby.