What Clive had said about our teachers acting strangely was niggling at me. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen adults fall under a spell. We plowed against the flow of students rushing to leave school, and it was as if I was a forward trying to make a break with the ball. Just like in soccer, I had to keep my elbows out to discourage jostling. Clive and Jasper followed behind.
Inside the school the halls were eerily quiet. Our feet tramped along and we jumped at our own echoing footsteps. Just as I suspected, Ms. Dreeble had left her daybook on her desk like she always did at Darkmont. It’s just not polite to go through other people’s things, but this was an emergency. As I opened the book and flipped through the pages, air escaped my lips in a hiss.
“This is so not good.” I shoved the book across the desk for Jasper and Clive to see.
In the pages of Ms. Dreeble’s daybook were her lesson plans for the whole school exchange. There was nothing written down on the persecution of witches. Instead, she’d planned lessons on important Swedish scientists and scientific discoveries. For the first day of class she’d planned a field trip to the house of a Nobel Prize–winning chemist. That field trip – and a dozen others – had never happened.
“We need to check if Mr. Morrows or Ms. Grimmaar left their daybooks behind.” I shook my head. “Something’s not right with them. I think they’re under a glamour spell.”
Jasper gulped and pulled out his feather from his belt. He waved it over the daybook and the white feather slowly turned green. “You’re right. There is some kind of magic going on, so Ms. Dreeble is not seeing her original lesson plans.”
Clive’s eyes widened. “Can I take a look at that feather? What’s it doing? How come you two seem to always know what’s going on?”
There wasn’t time to get into that now. I also didn’t want Clive touching the feathers in case he remembered the last few fairy incidents. He didn’t need to be reminded of Sookie’s history with magic and of causing disaster, not when Clive’s little brother was her best friend. I still wasn’t sure how much I could trust him. To sidetrack him I said, “We better check the other classrooms before someone comes back.”
The doors to the other rooms and the headmistress’s office were locked. Jasper pointed down the hall. “Sometimes the keys are in a wall box in the head office.”
“What are you kids doing here?”
We jumped and turned. A custodian came up and glared angrily at us. “The school’s closed,” he rasped. “Get out.”
He didn’t have to tell us twice. We fled.
“Now what?” I asked, rubbing my forehead. No library, no internet, no clues … this wasn’t going well. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something horrible was going on.
“Let’s go back to my original plan,” said Clive. “We’ll go into the town and start asking people about the fog and why everyone seems so on edge.”
Just ask people? That’s not how it worked on television, which probably meant it was a good plan.
“Clive’s right,” I said, though those words didn’t come easy. “Whatever it takes, we need to find out what this town is hiding.”
CHAPTER 20 - Walpurgis Night
LIKE A GHOST town, Blakulla’s sidewalks were deserted and many shops had closed by midday. Jasper, Clive, and I walked the few short blocks to the hotel where the Darkmont students were staying. There we split up, agreeing to meet back in the hotel lobby after an hour. We’d find out what we could about the weird fog and what seemed like a veil of secrecy around here. But we didn’t have much time. My aunt would be at the school soon to pick up Sookie and me.
I struck out for the local shops as Clive lingered at the hotel talking to staff and Jasper checked the town library. Jasper said if he couldn’t read in Swedish, he could at least talk to a librarian. Old habits die hard.
Many of the shop windows had new cards taped onto the glass, all with the same curious design. It was like a cross, but with what looked like the letter “H” drawn on each end. A coffee shop was still open, so I opened the door and stepped inside. The smell of dark roast coffee tantalized me – I knew Mom wouldn’t approve of that. The door slammed shut and a bell jangled. The shopkeeper jumped in fright. Sorry I’d startled her, I began a conversation with the smattering of Swedish I’d learned.
“Hej,” I said. “Jag skulle vilja ask a question, snälla. I’ve noticed a lot of shop windows have put a card in the door like yours. What is it for?” Might as well get to the point, I thought.
The tall, blond-haired woman drew a sign in the air and she didn’t need to tell me it was for warding off evil. I’d seen enough late night black-and-white movies (the only horror shows Mom allowed me to watch) to know that’s what people did before witches, werewolves, and vampires stormed the village.
She must have seen the worried look on my face because she laughed and said, “Don’t worry, the signs are just an old tradition we follow for Valborgsmassoafton.”
The shopkeeper stared at my puzzled face for a moment and then said, “We call it ‘Walpurgis Night’ in English. Tomorrow night is a big holiday for students. They make their way down to the lakeshore, build a big bonfire on the beach, and sing songs of spring. Do you do that at home?”
I shook my head, but it sounded fun.
“Sometimes children get sweets from neighbors. I think you do have a similar holiday.” The woman stopped a second to think. “Yes, in October. I believe you call it ‘Halloween.’”
Right. Just my luck to be in Sweden during the one week of the year that is like Halloween.
“Thank you, I mean, tack,” and I flew from the store. I stood outside in the cold shadows of the lane until I caught my breath. Halloween was a time when the veil between our world and the fairy world lifted, allowing horrible things to happen. Why did I think that Grim Hill was the only place where that kind of trouble lurked?
I hurried back to the hotel where the three of us were joining up. Even though the shopkeeper seemed cheerful, I didn’t believe she was telling me everything. She’d been startled when I first walked into her shop. And ancient tradition or not, when I’d asked about that sign, a shadow had crossed her face.
Before I stepped inside the hotel lobby, Clive whisked me from the door and hauled me out onto the promenade by the lake. A cold bitter wind cut through my jacket, even though the sun was shining again. He said, “Everyone is waiting for Walpurgis Night, and this year especially is unlike others in the past.”
My eyes skimmed across the lake, and I could see another sickly fog boiling off the water and drifting to shore, patches of it shredding and hanging off the trees like cobwebs. I shuddered. Somehow I didn’t think that fog was usually in the equation.
“The woman I talked to said the holiday was fun for kids.” As the words left my mouth, it hit me: Halloween was supposed to be fun too. It was all about dressing up and getting candy. I found out the hard way it also meant that diabolical forces could break through from the fairy world to ours at that time of the year.
Then Jasper rushed down the street and hurried onto the promenade. For a few moments, he gasped for breath. “Walpurgis,” he sputtered. “It’s a Celtic holiday.”
“But this is Sweden!” I squeaked in fright. The Celts knew which times of year to prepare for otherworldly trouble. Clive looked from Jasper to me in confusion. For the moment we ignored him.
“The Celts migrated to many parts of Europe – even Scandinavia,” Jasper said matter-of-factly. “Their traditions are widespread. But that’s not all. This Celtic holiday is known for witches gathering and initiating new witches.”
“That’s what an old man told me in the hotel,” Clive jumped in. “He told me his family always said when the fogs are out on Walpurgis Night, people should stay in because the witches come out.” Then Clive added, “But a lot of young people around him laughed and said that was old superstition.”
“I remember you telling me that witches and fairies are linked,” I reminded Jasper.
“What?” My heart sped up.
“Witch trouble has been in this town for a long time, and while people don’t really believe in it anymore, Blakulla – the mountain across the river – was supposed to be a place where witches met on Walpurgis. Those witches practiced maleficium.”
“Mal-what?” I asked.
“Maleficium is a powerful kind of magic used for evil.” Jasper swallowed and adjusted the invisible glasses on his head, which he only did when he was in deep concentration. “The librarian translated different letters and journals dating back years. People in this town were horrible to witches, and for a long time they feared a terrible revenge. Some people believe that if the fogs ever occurred near Walpurgis Night, it was a sign that the witches were meeting to plot an evil revenge.”
“That’s not all,” Clive said nervously. “After some people laughed at the old man who told me about Walpurgis, a few other people came up to him and asked if he’d seen the other signs. He nodded, and after they left I asked him what they had meant.”
“Did he tell you?” I no longer needed the wind from the lake to chill my bones. A dread seeped into me as the fog crept closer to the shore like a hulking prehistoric beast closing in on the kill.
“No,” said Clive. “That’s when I saw you, but he’s still inside waiting for me.”
Clive, Jasper, and I rushed through the lobby. The old man was sitting alone at a table in the hotel café, sipping coffee and staring outside at the lake. The man set down his cup onto a dark walnut table and did that thing Jasper used to do. First he pushed his black glasses up on his nose, then he slipped them over his white, neatly combed hair and scrunched his eyes in concentration.
“May we join you, snälla?” I asked.
The old man smiled and gestured for us to sit down.
“Sir, you were going to tell me something about the strange signs happening in Blakulla?” Clive asked.
For a moment the man paused, as if he was weighing a decision. Then he said, “There are those that would think it best for me to keep my mouth shut. Mostly because they don’t believe what I’m about to tell you. And I don’t want to alarm children, but …”
The man fastened us with a serious stare. “There have been signs the witches are returning to this town. And that won’t be good news for any young person.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. But the man began gazing out the window again. The fog was almost here, and I shuddered to think it might bring those frogs and toads with it.
“Witches have always had it in for the children in this town,” said the man.
“Specifically what kind of signs have you noticed?” asked Jasper.
“Four farmers have cows that are mysteriously sick. Not to mention, when they’ve been fetching their milk pails at the end of the day, all the milk has curdled.”
I thought about the spooky reindeer herder on my aunt’s farm at the mention of the milk pail, then I forced myself to focus on what the man was telling us.
“Also,” said the man, “three boats have overturned in sudden winds on the lake and men have almost drowned.”
“Those all have logical explanations,” Clive ventured.
“Maybe,” said the man. “But you don’t live here. You haven’t grown up with the stories – or even seen it happen before. Once, many years back when I was a boy, cows began falling ill and men did drown on the lake. Strange lights danced above old Blakulla, and as much as people wanted to believe it was the northern lights, I remember it differently.”
“How?” I asked nervously.
The man stared at me. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a melted stub of black candle. “Because I was one of the children who didn’t disappear.”
CHAPTER 21 - The Disappeared
A PALL OF subtle terror slipped over me in the hotel café. The way the old man clutched that piece of candle was the way I hung onto my feather when I needed to remember.
“Please,” I said in a hushed voice, “tell us more.”
The man winced as if something hurt badly, but then he shook it off. “When I was a boy I had a best friend. Lars and I were thick as thieves, running around this town, and I’ll admit that sometimes we’d be up to no good,” he smiled ruefully. “We had been looking forward to Walpurgis Night – had been planning mischief in fact. While people were attending the bonfires and not watching the rental shop, we were going to steal a boat for the evening and row across the channel to the mountain. But … but Lars never made it home that night. He never made it home again. And what I saw …”
The man trailed off, and no amount of polite prodding could get him to budge. Something tragic and terrifying had happened; I could tell by his haunted face. We sat quietly while he finished his coffee. Again he gave us a searching look. “I haven’t seen this particular fog since that night when I learned the hard way how to look out for witches. By the kind of questions you are asking me,” he favored us with a serious stare, “perhaps it’s best you learn those signs as well.”
Jasper and Clive scraped their chairs closer to hear every word. I leaned over so far I almost fell off my chair.
“Witches are usually left-handed,” the man said in almost a whisper. “They talk to themselves and, more importantly, they sing eerie songs to themselves.” He went on. “They have light-colored eyes and a familiar.”
“What’s a familiar?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sidetrack him.
“A familiar is an animal that always hangs around the witch,” he explained. “Witches use herbs and potions, and they have the ability to harm others.”
I hung my head and it began to pound. I thought about that stupid black cat on the farm, and how it hung around my sister and always hissed at me. Sookie was left-handed and fair eyed; she also used herbs and potions. And since she learned how to talk, my sister had been muttering and singing to herself. I could feel the heat of someone staring at me and I looked up.
Jasper had gone pale and he’d fastened me with a worried gaze. I gave him a slight nod.
But Clive and the man hadn’t noticed. Instead, the man kept talking. “Witches can change shapes,” he added. “Turn themselves into animals, or make themselves look less evil.”
Sookie could do a lot of things, but she always looked like Sookie. Was she a witch or not? “Are people born witches?” I asked in confusion. “Jasper says that Walpurgis Night is a time to initiate witches.”
The man nodded. “Your friend is correct. To become a full-fledged witch, you must go through a ritual on Walpurgis Night. Once you do – there’s no going back.”
Then a group of people entered the café and moved toward our table. The man was being joined by friends. We got up to give them our seats but as we started walking away, he quickly said, “One final sign is that witches use trolls to do their dirty work.”
I guess Clive had gone as far with this as he could because he snorted and sputtered, “There’s no such thing as trolls.”
Another man who took a seat at our table and had no idea of our previous conversation laughed and said, “No one from these parts would agree with that. Everyone in Scandinavia believes in trolls.” His eyes twinkled with amusement, but an uneasiness began gnawing at me as we walked back to the school.
Sookie wasn’t the only one I knew who was left-handed or fair eyed or who talked to herself.
I stood in the parking lot shivering in the chill damp air as the fog settled in a thick ghostly blanket over Blakulla. Clive and Jasper braved the fog with me, as it seemed every other townsperson had hidden themselves inside their homes. Not even our friends left the hotel.
Clive rubbed his head vigorously. “My head is aching,” he complained. “If nothing else, this mist isn’t healthy.”
But the way Clive said it convinced me he knew there was something else …
Ms. Dreeble, Ms. Grimmaar, and Sookie returned to the school just as my aunt’s truck turned into the parking lot.
“I’m staying home from school tomorrow,” I told Jasper and Clive while the others were still out of earshot.
“Why?” Clive looked at me suspiciously.
“What is it, Cat?” Jasper’s face brimmed with concern.
After talking to the man in the café, I couldn’t hold back my suspicions any longer. Not with the troll connection and how glamour can make someone look different.
“Because,” I said flatly, “I think my aunt might be a witch.”
CHAPTER 22 - The Family Secret
THAT NIGHT I tossed and turned, and for the first time in a while, I had that dream again.
I’m running in the woods and it’s as if the trees will lurch out and sweep me into their blackness where I’ll be lost forever. Water rushes beneath my feet, and above me clouds fly across the sky faster and faster. I get dizzy looking at them, and I feel like my head’s spinning. But it’s me that’s spinning and I’m tumbling to my death!
I woke up in a sweat and kicked off my quilt only to shiver in the freezing air.
“My stomach hurts,” I said at breakfast, pushing my food away.
My aunt gazed at me for a moment and then said, “Well, best you go back to bed and rest.” Then she pulled on her huge boots, wrapped a heavy scarf around her neck, and pulled a wool hat on her head. “It’s time to feed the animals,” she said briskly.
Sookie backed her chair away from the table, scraping it across the floor, and got her own things on. Pulling on her hat, she headed toward the door, eager to feed the chickens.
Before she left she turned to me. “Cat, do you know what I saw yesterday when I was with the teachers?” Her eyes blinked rapidly, and she looked upset.
“What?”
Sookie’s eyes teared up. “We walked past a store and it had a sign saying reindeer meat was on sale. Oh, Cat,” she sniffed, “do people eat reindeer?”
Grim Hill: The Family Secret Page 10