Calgacos

by Aubade Teyal

  Chapter Fourteen – They Always Are

  'He's locked himself in our dorm, and he won't let us in,' Connel explained. 'He’s been like this ever since we got back, from the trials. Henry got so mad he threatened to get Kearns, which only made Mannik worse.'

  Lennox rolled her eyes. Henry had no idea! The thought of Kearns was enough to make anyone lock themselves in a room. He would never coax Mannik out threatening him with Kearns.

  'We waited and waited for you to get back. You’re the only one he might listen to. The only one who might be able to persuade him to unlock bloody door.’

  There was no one outside the locked dorm. Henry had long ago stamped off, frustrated, to wait in the common room. Rick had also, eventually, stopped seeing the funny side of the situation, and was down with Henry as well. The door to the dorm was locked tight, muffled sniffs seeped out from under the door.

  'Mannik?' Lennox called softly.

  The sniffing stopped.

  Lennox listened, waited, and tried again.

  ‘Please let me in,’ she said.

  At first there was nothing, just a silence stretched thin, until it faltered with a few broken words, like shrapnel in a wound.

  ‘….sorry...’

  ‘It’s the only thing he’ll say,’ Connel whispered. ‘Not that it makes any sense. I haven’t a clue what he’s talking about.’

  But Lennox knew.

  ‘Connel, I think I need to talk to him on my own,’ she said.

  Reluctantly he nodded, and left to join the others in the common room.

  'Mannik?' she whispered into the door frame. 'We need to talk.’ No response. ‘I have to tell you something.'

  There were no sniffs, only silence, and the door did not budge. She was going to have to talk to the door.

  'If you weren't here, at Calgacos, I would have left by now. I’d have run away if they hadn’t sent me away.'

  It was true. Kellas had turned her head, but it was Mannik who kept her at Calgacos. The door creaked, then opened a crack.

  'Really?' he asked, one eye visible in the split between the door and the frame.

  'Yes.'

  She put her hand to the door, pushed it open and was appalled. Mannik looked terrible. His blood red eyes were shrunk to the size of raisins, and skin around his eyes was enflamed. He shuffled back to his bed, sank down onto it, his head bent, his hair wet with tears.

  'It was Gram wasn’t it? What happened?'

  Mannik opened his mouth to speak, then bit his lip instead, turning the pink flesh white and shook his head.

  ‘You’ll be angry...’

  '…no I won't, not with you, anyway. Only with him.’

  Mannik swallowed, his blood shot eyes were shining with tears.

  ‘I thought if I hid here, I’d be safe.’ He sneaked a glance at her. He had known she expected them to hide together. He had known she would look for him, and he had deliberately kept silent.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me you what you were going to do?’

  ‘Because of Duncan,’ he confessed. ‘He wanted you out there. He was watching you. There was no way you would have been able to sneak back in here. And I thought inside would be the safest place.’

  ‘And was it?’

  Mannik’s head sank.

  ‘It was Gram, wasn’t it?’ she asked. She knew it had to be. There could be no other reason why Mannik was in such a state.

  ‘He must have been one of the first back.’ Mannik sniffed. ‘He said he was, anyway. And he guessed where I was. He came here, looking for me.’

  ‘But he’s Caniformia. It’s forbidden to enter another’s house.’

  ‘That didn’t stop him. He said rules are for others, not him.’

  ‘And what did he do to you?’

  More tears surfaced in his eyes.

  ‘I told him about your back.'

  'You were supposed to. That's why I showed you. Now what did he do to you?’

  Mannik shook his head.

  ‘Look.’ Lennox tried to stay patient. ‘We can’t let him get away with this. If you told him what he wanted, he has to leave you alone.’ She drew close, peered at his face. ‘Has he done something to your eyes?’

  Mannik nodded slowly.

  ‘Chilli sauce. Drip by drip. Until I told them. And then more…’

  ‘More?’

  ‘He wants to know more. But I didn’t know. I couldn’t tell him. So he kept on dripping the sauce until I couldn’t see, or speak.’

  Lennox felt tears in her own eyes.

  ‘More? I don’t understand! What does he want?’

  ‘He wants to know the shape of your mark. He said tell me the animal. Which animal does it look like?’

  'What?'

  It made no sense. Mannik must have got it wrong.

  'That’s ridiculous. Why would he think the mark on my back is shaped like an animal?'

  'Because they always are, he said.'

  Lennox stared at Mannik, amazed. What did Gram mean? They always are. Kellas had mentioned a mark, but he had said nothing of others. And he had said nothing about an animal.

  For the first time in her life, Lennox wanted to peel off her clothes and find a full length mirror. She'd only seen the edges of her birth mark, she had never really looked at her back, never wanted to see it. She’d always thought of it as hideous, it had never occurred to her there could be a discernible shape within the disfigurement.

  She didn’t have a mirror. But she did have Mannik. She tore her top off, turned her back on Mannik. ‘Have a look?’ she whispered, almost not daring to breathe. ‘Do you see an animal on my back?’

  At first, Mannik said nothing. He simply looked. Then he made a strange strangled sound. Lennox assumed he was crying.

  She pulled her top back on and turned round.

  But he wasn’t crying. He was standing up, eyes bulging, the veins in his neck throbbing, his mouth opening and closing producing nothing but rasping breaths.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  He appeared to be choking, but there had been nothing in his mouth.

  As she watched, he began coughing, hard, barking sounds, that gathered strength, shaking his chest, forcing convulsions to spread like a wave down his body. His pale skin was eclipsed by a ghastly green hue, and he was clearly struggling to breathe.

  Lennox couldn’t watch and do nothing any longer. She ran to the door, and screamed at the top of her voice,

  ‘Help!’

  No one came. The corridor was deserted. Most of Feliformia were in the common room. It was one of the few nights in the year when extra provisions were offered, plates of flapjacks and shortbread, more than enough for everyone.

  She sprinted down the corridor, down the main stairs, and into the common room.

  It was full, hot even in the cold weather, fire blazing, boys talking, laughing, joking, juniors devouring flapjacks, seniors drinking tea, and everyone talking about the Challenge Cup and the outcome of the trials.

  Lennox opened her mouth to shout. In her panic, she could not see anyone she knew, anyone she could ask.

  Then a tall boy close by turned round, and she recognised Henry’s lofty frame and sullen face.

  ‘Help!’ she cried, running towards him. ‘It’s Mannik. He’s ill. Really ill. In your room.’

  ‘I’ll get Gnarl,’ he said and headed straight for the door. Lennox followed him out. He hurried deeper into school, towards the old castle, where the Masters lived, while she raced back up to Mannik.

  He was doubled over on the bed, his wild thorny hair hiding his face. As Lennox reached him, he looked up. He had stopped coughing, and was breathing in short gasps, as if he had sprinted up a mountain.

  ‘Are you alright?’ she asked, not sure whether he would be able to respond. ‘Someone’s coming,’ she added.

  There was a flicker in his eyes, and he looked towards the door.

  No one was there. Yet.

  He opened his mouth, took a breath, it rattled all
the way down his throat. He swallowed, then tried again.

  ‘…Gnarle?’

  Lennox nodded.

  ‘Yes. I found Henry, and he’s gone to get Gnarle.’

  ‘…no…’

  ‘What?’

  Lennox wasn’t sure she had heard properly. His voice was no more than a scratch, and as he tried to speak, his face changed, his skin darkened, like a cloud moving over the sun.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ She had never seen someone like this, visibly ill, their symptoms changing, rapidly, randomly.

  ‘…no…’ he hissed through clenched teeth, just as she heard footsteps at the doorway, and Dr Gnarle himself walked in.

  Gnarle took one look at Mannik, then at Lennox, and ordered her out.

  Seconds later, she was outside; the door shut in her face. She waited, alone, unsure, until Torkil and Kearns appeared, walking fast. They appeared to be talking, for they faced each other, but, unusually, Lennox could not hear a thing. She stared, puzzled, as they drew near.

  ‘Mannik,’ she blurted.

  ‘Henry told us,’ Kearns said, cutting her short.

  But she would not be silenced.

  ‘It was Gram!’ she continued. ‘He did it. He came up here, looking for Mannik and he put…’

  This time it was Torkil who interrupted her.

  ‘Lennox, I hear you are not long back from the trials.’

  ‘Yes, but…’

  ‘It is late, and you are tired, and upset. You need to rest. Mannik is in our care. We will look after him.’

  ‘But Gram…’

  ‘…is my concern. Not yours. Don’t involve yourself.’

  She tried to speak again, but this time it was Kearns who stepped forward.

  ‘You heard Torkil. Rest.’

  He pointed to her door, his face grim, his mouth set. The conversation was over.

  Reluctantly, she did as he said, and buried herself in her room. But she did not sleep, or rest. She sat by her fire, listening to the events next door. She heard more footsteps and voices, Masters’ voices, and once, she thought, Kellas. Then later, the other boys: Henry, Connel, Rick. It was a long time before the corridor was truly quiet, longer still before she could sleep. There was too much to think about. She was worried about Mannik, but also tormented by the thought of her mark.

  Over the years she had become accustomed to its presence. She never forgot about it, but she had learned to live with it, like the sun on a cloudy day, hidden, but still there.

  Now she yearned to look at it and yet she was not aware of a single mirror in the entire castle. There was no way she could satisfy her curiosity, and find out whether her mark was indeed in the shape of an animal, not without Mannik. It was an itch she could not satisfy, a torment.

  So, inevitably, she spent a restless night. She drifted off to sleep and found herself in a forest, surrounded by the rustling and grunting of unseen animals. Every time she turned, the animals disappeared, melted into the undergrowth, yet she knew they were there and, worse, were watching her. On edge, and frightened, she woke several times, only to plunge back into the same dream, the same forest, the same nightmare.

  It was a relief to finally wake up, and hear the familiar sounds of the boys next door readying themselves for breakfast. She got ready quickly, and was out the door as soon as she heard footsteps in the corridor.

  It was Henry and Rick on their way to breakfast. Rick, looking relaxed as usual, as if Calgacos were a hotel; and Henry, despite his help yesterday, pretending she didn’t exist.

  ‘Where’s Mannik?’ she asked.

  Henry shrugged.

  ‘Still sick.’ Rick said. ‘What did you expect?’

  ‘And Connel?’

  Henry headed down the corridor. Rick rolled his eyes.

  ‘He was up hours ago. He’s in a state of heightened tension.’

  Downstairs in the Dining Hall, it soon became clear what Rick meant. Connel had already drunk several cups of coffee, and was surrounded by juniors. He was describing the events of yesterday in minute detail.

  There was no room for anyone else on Connel’s table. Rick and Henry sat on a separate table, close by, and ate in silence, trying not to listen to Connel.

  ‘I knew…’ Connel was saying, very loudly. ‘…I knew that whatever happened, the prefects would have to be brought back to Calgacos. So my plan was simple. I needed a good vantage point close to Calgacos, somewhere that would give me enough time. I flattened myself against one of the old walls, blackened my face and hands, and waited for the first prefect to make their appearance. But the first prefect was Euan, and he was accompanied by Daryl. I knew I had no chance. Even if I jumped off a cliff and onto his back, he still wouldn’t go down. He’s as solid as lump of granite, there’s no way to beat him by force. I had to wait, and wait, and wait. I knew that the next prefect to emerge would have to be the one. I was getting cramp; I couldn’t wait any longer. And the next prefect was Horace. He came with Fontaine who’s fast, we all know that, but strength is not his thing. This was my chance. I stayed hidden by the wall till the last moment, when they were right in front of me. Then I climbed the wall, and jumped onto Fontaine. He didn’t know what had hit him. He was down and he stayed down. I stayed just long enough to tie his feet together. I didn’t do a thorough job. I didn’t need to. I just needed to get Horace back to Calgacos. Five minutes later, I was at the gatehouse, Horace by my side, Duncan shaking my hand. Fastest junior back ever, according to Kearns.’

  ‘When do we hear the end of this?’ Henry muttered.

  ‘He’s only going to get worse when the list goes up,’ Rick sighed. ‘And he’s already impossible.’

  Mannik was absent from lessons all day. None of the teachers asked about him, not one of the juniors seemed to notice either. It was as if he had simply sank without a trace.

  Connel spent the day talking about the team list for the Challenge Cup. Everyone in the house expected it to go up after breakfast. When it didn’t, the expectation instead was it would appear after lunch. When that didn’t happen either, the common room was thronging after dinner, with every member of the house waiting.

  Duncan’s entrance was greeted with resounding cheers, and then, just as suddenly, a dramatic silence. From where she was standing, Lennox could see he was empty handed. There was still no list in sight.

  Duncan stood head and shoulders higher than every other boy in the room. Tall, and strong, and with resolute confidence, he stood, surveying the scene, catching every eye, drawing his audience into his presence.

  ‘I know what you are thinking.’ Duncan smiled. He looked relaxed. ‘Why are we waiting? That’s what you’re thinking.’ There were lots of nods of agreement from the gathered crowd. ‘Well, there are some problems…’

  There were a few groans from the crowd near the fireplace which subsided quickly when Duncan looked their way.

  ‘As well as the results from our trials, Kearns has some other considerations. The list will be up by tomorrow.’

  When Duncan was gone, the crowds slumped into chairs and into speculation, the atmosphere heavy with disappointment. No one was ready to leave. There was nothing new to say, but they had to talk, so they spoke endlessly, about the trials, about Duncan, about Kearns and how they had lost the Challenge Cup last year to Caniformia, and how that must never happen again.

  Lennox disappeared shortly after Duncan had left, and returned to her room. There was only one concern in her mind: Mannik. She wanted to know what had happened: she was considering approaching one of the Masters to ask. The problem was there was not one Master who was approachable. Bambridge looked like an escaped convict, and she had never seem him listen to his students, only bark at them. Nighten found her so insignificant he appeared to be the only Master who had actually forgotten she existed. Torkil was never around, Conley was friendly with Kearns and Kearns hated her so much he could not even bear to look at her.

  She was busy lighting a fire in her little hearth, for
the room was stone cold, and dark as the night, when there was a tap at her door.

  It was Mannik, white faced, and trembling, his eyes huge as sinkholes, his lips colourless.

  'Come in,' she gasped, amazed. He was clearly still unwell, and yet at her door.

  They sat by her tiny hearth, as small as a child's cradle, and she listened as he began to talk.

  'It was horrible,' he told her. 'I knew what was happening but I couldn’t control it, couldn’t stop it.’

  ‘What did Gnarle say?’ she asked, curious.

  He dropped his head to his chest, buried his face in his hands.

  'To expect more,' was his muffled reply.

  Lennox stared at his hands, normally thin as sticks; even they had changed. The colour he had lost from his face seem to have leached, and his fingers were a shade of purple, like a fading bruise.

  ‘But why? What’s wrong?’

  Mannik raised his head slightly.

  ‘It’s some sort of weird… condition. He can’t stop the fits, only manage them. And he wants me to stay with him, in his infirmary.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘I’ll come to lessons, when I can.’

  Lennox hesitated, then stretched forward, placed her icy hand on his.

  ‘I need you,’ she whispered.

  ‘And I you.’