Burnt Snow

by Van Badham

  ‘Blue because they’re caused by the amulet?’ asked Brody.

  My eyes widened. I saw the pendant in Brody’s hand the day the windows shattered in class … Against my skin as he kissed me in the middle of Boronia Road and the houses caught fire … Dangling around my neck that first time in the book room on the day Yarrindi High was attacked by crows. Blue because of the amulet. Electric shocks caused by cleaning the amulet, strengthening its power by making it my own.

  ‘Deflects all the dark energy into strange weather events,’ I said again.

  ‘Then it’s doing a fine job tonight,’ said Brody as I stood there, the cold silver of the pendant in my hand, the skin on my neck burning as the realisation dawned.

  When Ashley had had her nosebleed in the class, there’d been no other effects – nothing like the fire or the crows.

  Because I hadn’t been given the pendant yet.

  ‘What? Fine job? Why do you say that?’ I said, staring at Brody, trembling.

  ‘Your pendant. Look,’ he said, walking back into the cave. He picked up a tea light and spilled light on his arm. He pointed to a distinct grey layer of crystalline dirt on his skin. ‘Strange weather events.’ Brody tilted his head towards the black squall that bloomed over the ocean. It was smothering the horizon line and the moonlight. ‘It’s not rain out there,’ he said. ‘It’s black ice. It’s ash.’

  72

  Even though the cave was warm, I was shivering as I walked back into it. Brody sat on top of one of the covered rocks and brushed the grey crystals from his arm. ‘Did we cause this?’ he asked.

  ‘No.’ I didn’t know where to stand or sit. ‘The ash was falling before you even tapped me on the shoulder.’ Most of our contact tonight had been when Brody was trying to choke me, thinking I was a killer bear. Remembering the stinging bolts of electricity around my neck, I knew nothing had been generated that could have provoked the squall outside. This knowledge thrummed through my heart as I kneeled on the ground and fetched my mobile phone, intending to text my father that I’d prefer to wait out the rain before he arrived with the car.

  But there was already an unread message from him.

  Cave WHERE? Not rain! Dust storm! Get safe/inside NOW! Tell me WHERE YOU ARE!

  I started texting back, then realised there was no signal on my phone.

  ‘No signal?’ asked Brody, handing over a phone from his back pocket.

  His had no signal either.

  ‘There’s nothing.’ I passed the phone back to Brody. I realised I was frightened – my voice was rising. ‘Dad says it’s a dust storm. He says to stay inside. We’re fine in here, tell me we’re fine in here.’

  ‘There’s no wind in here. Is there wind? What’s this candle doing?’ said Brody. ‘You’re a witch – don’t you know?’

  I took a calming breath and closed my eyes. Will you save us from the wind? I asked the orange magic, clutching my pendant.

  As long as the candle burns, replied the orange magic.

  Improbably, sweat was beading on my forehead. I opened my eyes. Brody stood in front of me, his fists tensing, untensing, tensing.

  Danger, said my pendant, quivering in my hand. Danger, danger, Sophie Morgan.

  ‘What’s going on?’ asked Brody.

  ‘I asked the magic and it said that we’re okay.’

  ‘You don’t look okay,’ said Brody, taking a step towards me.

  Danger, danger! cried the stone.

  ‘As long as the candle burns – the orange candle – we’re safe here.’ I laughed, trying to drown out the voice of my stone. ‘We’ve got hours, at least.’ I nodded to the churning blackness beyond the cave mouth. ‘Whatever that storm is, if it’s over the ocean it can’t last.’

  ‘Have we got much candle left?’ Brody leaned over the rocks to check the contents of the makeshift candleholder.

  ‘We’re fine – leave it,’ I said. He kneeled, his back to me, I couldn’t see what he was doing. ‘Leave it, Brody, it’s fine.’

  ‘I’m just trying to make sure it’s protected from any draught or—’ I heard the can with the candle in it scrape against the ground.

  ‘Brody.’ I kneeled down. ‘I’m sure it’s—’ I put my hand on his shoulder.

  Brody turned around. My hand was still on his shoulder. He was crouching. I was on the ground.

  He looked at me. I looked at him.

  Danger! begged the stone.

  Gently, Brody lifted my hand from his shoulder. Where his fingers held the bones of my wrist, blue energy crackled like lightning. Pain built, then stung. I gasped.

  Brody instantly let go of my wrist. ‘The thing – sorry – I’m sorry’.

  ‘It’s okay.’

  ‘You hurt?’

  ‘It’s okay,’ I said, suddenly calm.

  Candlelight flickered in Brody’s eyes. Our gaze did not break as I lifted the silver chain and the pendant from my neck. The white tea lights flared brightly as the stone hung for a second over my head, and faded as I laid my precious necklace on the ground. All the candles extinguished, bar the orange candle in the can.

  Our bodies were smooth in the low, orange light. Our faces were golden.

  ‘You can’t really be a bear,’ Brody mumbled into my ear as his arms encircled me. His face touched my face and our bodies pressed so tightly together I couldn’t tell if the heart beating under my skin was his or mine.

  Finally, finally our lips met – a kiss that was soft, warm, gentle, and lasted forever in a second.

  There were no tiny bolts of lightning or crackles of stinging energy. There were no broken windows, or sudden fires, or bird attacks. The cave did not collapse, the storm did not split the rock.

  There was just Brody and me, and the whole world was my mouth, his mouth and the orange candlelight.

  73

  As Brody kissed me, his fingers clutched the back of my black dress in handfuls – I could feel his knuckles on the knots of my spine. My own fingers were feeling for his ribs, his sides, his back. The grey T-shirt I tore over his body like a shed skin; my hands felt his naked stomach, his chest … He smelled wonderful, like oats and soap and fresh earth.

  We kissed. We kept kissing. My hands strayed to the buckle of Brody’s jeans.

  He broke contact with my lips. ‘What are you doing there, 19?’ he said, kissing my face.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said, kissing him back and sliding my fingers into the fold of the belt, releasing the leather from the loop, then the buckle. The wetness of my lips thrilled to his breath, so close to me. ‘I have no idea what I’m doing.’ I released the buckle of his belt, each end of the strap of leather in my hand. I moved my hands towards the button and zip of his jeans, kissing Brody’s mouth.

  His hands withdrew from my back and gently took hold of each of my wrists, guiding them away from the waist of his jeans. He kissed me hard. He didn’t let go of my wrists.

  ‘Am I doing something wrong?’ I asked, breaking the kiss.

  He folded my hands together and brought them to his mouth. ‘No … God, no,’ he said, kissing my fingers and smiling.

  ‘Then why stop?’ I said, thrown.

  He placed my hands on each of my thighs, pinning them under his own warm hands. ‘Soph,’ he said, ‘how many guys have you been with?’

  ‘None,’ I said, ‘I’ve told you.’

  ‘And how many girls have I been with?’

  ‘I don’t know – are you counting Kylie Mundine?’

  ‘Ah, no,’ he said. ‘Which brings the number to one. You.’

  He sighed. He smiled.

  ‘You’re so beautiful,’ he said, his gaze travelling my body. Still holding my hands, he leaned forward and kissed me – and he kissed me again. He rolled his forehead against mine, casting his gaze to the floor.

  ‘I want to make you happy,’ I said, smiling but confused.

  ‘I know,’ he said. ‘But what do you want me to do?’

  I didn’t know how to answer that question. ‘Wh
atever you like,’ I said.

  ‘What does that mean?’ said Brody. ‘Having sex with me? Getting me off? Getting yourself off? Do you know?’

  My cheeks burned. ‘Why are you being like this?’

  ‘Because we’re in a cave, we’re half-naked, there’s a storm out there, no one’s going to walk in and Al gave me some condoms before we left Gretchen’s. They’re in my pocket, I have a very painful erection …’ His gaze slid over my chest and my legs. ‘You wearing that dress is not making this easy.’

  ‘I don’t understand what the problem is,’ I said. ‘You want me, I want you …’

  ‘And if we just stop having this conversation, I’ll rip that dress off you, pull down my jeans and this whole thing will be over in five seconds.’

  ‘But isn’t that,’ I began, scarlet with embarrassment, ‘I mean, isn’t that how it goes?’

  ‘I’m just telling you that if you leave this to me alone, you will be seriously disappointed … And I’ll be so embarrassed I’ll probably never talk to you again.’

  ‘What?’ I choked. ‘After – and all the things I’ve told you, and you’ve seen of me, and this and—?’

  Instinctively, I ripped my hands from his and pulled down the hem of my dress.

  He frowned. ‘This is not easy to talk about,’ he said, and I thought I could hear a tremor in his voice. ‘But I am trying to do the right thing. If I used you, I’d hate you for letting me do it. I don’t want to hate you, 19.’ His voice cracked. ‘And I really, really don’t want you to hate me.’

  ‘Okay.’ My cheeks were scalding. ‘I’m here, you’re here, you’ve got condoms in your pocket – what do you want to do? Just sit and hold hands?’

  ‘No,’ he said, and he leaned forward, touching my jaw with his fingers. I kept my arms folded and glared at him, even as he brought his fingers to my lips. His eyes stayed on mine as he traced his fingertips along my cheek, and then down my neck. ‘I want to do something for you, to your body. Not just—’ Something almost like a blush crossed Brody’s brooding face – now I knew he was as nervous as I was. ‘I … want to do something to you so you know that this isn’t just about me, touch you so you know that I—’ His unfinished words hung in the air, even as his hand caressed the skin of my shoulder.

  ‘You what?’ I said, my breath trembling on my lips. Now, his hand caressed my throat.

  ‘That I can’t believe I’m the one who gets to be here with this amazing girl, the one who gets to touch her body like this for the first time.’

  Brody stroked my collarbone. I thought I would melt under his hand.

  ‘Lean back on the rock,’ he whispered.

  So I leaned back on the rock, and Brody kissed me. He held my face with one hand, he explored the curves of my breasts with the other, the material of my dress rippling under his fingers. My heart started to race, my breath was fast, my legs went slack. Brody kissed my neck. He kissed my collarbone, and then my breasts. His hands caressed my legs as he kissed my stomach, the tops of my thighs. He pulled at my underpants. ‘If I am not doing this right, or you don’t like it, you tell me. You tell me what you want, or you say stop – and I will stop,’ he said. He kissed my hip bones. He kissed my stomach. He kissed my thighs, stroking his fingers and thumbs against the smooth inner skin.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I said. I wanted to swoon and scream at the same time.

  He looked up at me and grinned. ‘Trust me,’ he said, ‘I read heaps of magazines.’ And he gently moved my legs apart, and kissed me again.

  My head rolled back against the rock. In those blissful minutes all I wanted – ever wanted – was to be in this cave, with this boy – Brody, my Brody.

  But from outside the cave a sound distracted me. My eyes blinked open as my ears attuned to it. Then there was another sound, like the wind whipping the sky, or the blades of a helicopter.

  I saw the flame of the orange candle flicker dangerously. Something was coming, churning the outside air.

  ‘Brody, stop,’ I said, sitting up. ‘Stop, stop – get up.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘There’s something outside,’ I said, adjusting my underpants, pulling my dress back down. ‘My pendant – find my pendant!’

  I threw myself on my hands and knees on the floor of the cave, and so did Brody. We scrambled like animals. ‘Where’s my necklace?’ I screamed. But when I turned towards the cave mouth my scream went silent in horror.

  One head, then two, then two more, then another three – seven human bodies rose into a phalanx, impossibly suspended in the air out the front of the cave. They were the source of the dirty, ashen ice – dark clouds churned the air around them. They wore black clothes, a couple were in long black robes.

  I recognised the mad monks from Gretchen’s birthday party.

  Their faces were all pale and their arms, where the flesh was visible, were covered in scars.

  One had curly blond hair that bounced as he let out a malevolent chuckle. ‘What are you doing so far from the library, Sophie Morgan?’ laughed Jeules, hovering at the back of the group, staring into the cave. ‘Are you homework partners?’ His silver ring sparkled on his finger.

  The leader of the phalanx landed herself in the cave mouth. She wiped her feet on the sandy rock as she set down, leaving the churning black air behind her. She was wearing a robe and pulled back her monk’s hood as she stepped lightly into the cave.

  Her hair was dark and short now, but I knew her by sight.

  Marlina.

  ‘Promiscuity’s a disease,’ she hissed, pulling what looked like a white handkerchief from her sleeve. The rest of the phalanx landed in the cave alongside her. Brody and I were trapped. She stared at Brody. ‘We’re here to disinfect you,’ Marlina said, stepping towards him.

  My hand clutched Brody’s arm. I could feel the muscles in his shoulders preparing to leap across the space and fight. I held him back. ‘They have weapons,’ I said to him, seeing the grey glow on a knife carried in one hand, a metal chain in another.

  ‘His slut’s got good eyes!’ said Marlina to her gang, stepping closer to Brody and glaring at me. ‘When we’ve brought down the bear, we might recycle you.’

  ‘You touch her and I’ll tear you to pieces!’ growled Brody, surging forward. I sank my fingers into his arms to hold him back.

  ‘Shut up, goatsucker,’ said Jeules.

  ‘You’ll be dead before dawn, witch,’ said a boy at the back of the group. He said this to Brody, not to me.

  ‘Brody’s not a witch!’ I squealed.

  Brody burst out laughing. ‘Yes, get me on the bonfire – I’ve always loved a barbecue.’

  ‘No, I’m the witch! I’m the one you want!’ I cried, pointing at myself.

  ‘There’s nothing quite as sad as a lovesick teenage girl,’ said Marlina with derision, ‘especially one missing her pantyhose.’ She nodded to the group. ‘Let’s take them.’

  Now, Brody lunged, but it was too late. Darkness snuffed the orange candle. Blinded, I heard a scuffle, gave a cry, but all I felt were arms restraining me, and something fabric, and pungent, shoved across my nose and mouth.

  ‘Stupid little whore,’ spat Marlina as green fog clouded my vision. All was dark.

  74

  For a second, I thought I was at Fran’s house.

  My eyes flickered. My head was foggy. I was in a lamp-lit bedroom, lying on top of a double bed with a clean cream duvet. A glance to my side revealed a bedside table with a glass of water standing under a small lamp that had a burgundy fabric shade. The room had cream walls and picture rails, and heavy curtains covered what must’ve been a large window. Opposite the bed, there was a large wooden wardrobe and a matching chest of drawers that had a pair of cheval mirrors on it. I could see my reflection. I wasn’t wearing my dress.

  I glanced down – I was in my underwear.

  ‘Where’s my dress?’ I said to myself.

  ‘Marlina burned it,’ came a reply. ‘How’s your head?’
>
  I turned towards the familiar voice. The face was momentarily difficult to recognise without makeup.

  Nikki.

  ‘Where am I?’ I said.

  She was sitting in an antique rocking chair on the other side of the bed. She looked exhausted – and appeared to be wearing some kind of dressing-gown. Her eyes looked naked without eyeliner.

  ‘A farmhouse. We’re not far from Yarrindi.’

  I sat up. ‘Whose farmhouse?’

  Nikki shrugged. ‘They’ve rented it. Marlina’s friends. Holiday place.’ She sat forward, lifting a white garment from the arm of the rocking chair. ‘Here,’ she said, throwing me what I presumed was a nightgown.

  I felt for my pendant, but of course it wasn’t there.

  ‘She burned my dress?’

  ‘First thing she did when she brought you guys back here. She thinks it’s slutty.’

  ‘What happened to your catsuit?’

  ‘Same thing,’ said Nikki sadly. ‘And I had to take all my makeup off.’

  I shoved the nightgown over my head. It was white and shapeless, but the cotton was cool on my skin. I was, I realised, barefoot. ‘Where’s Brody?’ I asked.

  ‘I think they took him to the stables. I don’t know what you guys were doing when they found you, but it must have been fun. Marlina was hell pissed off.’

  ‘Can we get out of here?’ I said, frightened, standing up.

  Nikki shook her head. ‘Locked in. Door’s bolted. We have to wait.’

  ‘Wait for what?’

  Nikki shrugged.

  I walked over to the heavy curtains and pulled them apart. A large window looked over nothing but darkness. I searched for a bolt, and found one secured with a lock.

  ‘Don’t even think about punching through the glass,’ Nikki said, ‘it’s all double-glazed.’