I tried calling my mum, but the call went straight to voicemail.
“You’ve reached Milla Ash, freelance journalist. I’m afraid I can’t take your call right now…”
What was the point of having the world’s coolest mobile if Mum’s was turned off? Then I remembered that most hospitals have rules about phones, so maybe she’d had to switch it off. I decided to text her instead, but couldn’t think of anything other than: “How are things going?” It didn’t even come close to voicing all the questions I had: how was my dad doing, had he come round again, could he remember more about what happened, why had he ended up so far from the car, and how had he been bitten by at least one unpleasant leech of a sort that not even Aunt Isa knew about? Plus about a million other things. I heaved a sigh, then I sent my stupid little text message. It was better than nothing, and at least she’d know that I was thinking about her and Dad.
“Now what?” I asked.
“We’re going to Westmark, of course,” Oscar said in a way that implied you had to be seriously dense to even ask. “Two birds with one stone again! We’ll find this leech lady of yours and Shanaia can tell us why she didn’t show up yesterday.”
I suddenly wasn’t sure that I wanted to kill even one bird, let alone two. It seemed quite a cruel thing to do, once you stopped to think about it. A bit like “more than one way to skin a cat”. It reminded me too much of Chimera. And anyway, we hadn’t exactly hit the target with our stones so far.
“Does that mean we have to walk all the way back to Raven Kettle?” I said.
“I wonder if I can find a wildway a little nearer to where we are,” Aunt Isa said, “if you’re sure that’s where we’re going.”
“I guess so,” I said. “Oscar is right; if we don’t, this has all been a complete waste of time.”
The sky over Westmark was low, heavy and dark not only because it was now evening, but far more so because storm clouds the colour of tarmac had gathered over the sea and were blocking out the sun. Four storm petrels were skipping about in the updraught over the cliff, small dark shapes flitting among the herring gulls like foolhardy sparrows taunting a hawk…
Seeing them this close to the shore did not bode well for the weather.
“There’s a storm brewing,” I said. “Do you think there’ll be thunder?”
I’d barely said the words when a distant rumble rolled towards us.
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Aunt Isa said with a small smile. “Come on; let’s get inside where it’s dry.”
It had already started to rain: big, wet drops that turned into coin-sized spots when they hit the fabric of my coat.
Westmark was built on top of an old ruin, and its crumbling castle wall was now only a garden wall, but much thicker. The cast-iron gate squeaked on rusty hinges when Aunt Isa pushed it open and, at the same moment, an even sharper cry rang out above us.
“Kiiiiiiihr!” It was Kitti, Shanaia’s kestrel, swooping down on us like a fighter plane – it felt a bit menacing when she did that, but I think it was her way of saying hello.
The door was opened, but not by Shanaia. Instead, a much chubbier woman appeared on the doorstep. Her hair was partly covered by a flowered scarf and her candy-striped, flouncy skirt flapped in the wind like a signal flag, powder blue, mint and pink, so I was fairly sure she must be Alichia. She certainly wore the same cake frosting colours as her house.
“Come inside, come inside,” she urged us, “before the storm breaks!”
We hurried up. When I got nearer, I could see that the hair sticking out from under her scarf was the colour of honey, and her smiley eyes looked like two raisins in her round and friendly face.
“Isa!” she said and she sounded excited. “I don’t know if you remember me, but I remember you. It’s Alichia – don’t you recognize me?”
“Of course,” my aunt said. “How nice to see you again.”
“And you must be Clara!” Alichia continued in a tone of voice that made it clear how absolutely brilliant it was to finally meet me.
I returned her smile – it was hard not to.
“But who are you? I don’t know you.” The latter was addressed to Oscar.
“This is my friend Oscar,” I said. “He came to my birthday party. Only so many things happened that we haven’t got round to… returning him home yet.” I made it sound as if he were a pair of old PE shoes left behind at school. But there was something about Alichia that made you tell her more than you’d intended, and so I blurted the words out rather clumsily.
“Oh, that’s right, your birthday. Congratulations, darling. A Tridecimal is a big day! Shanaia was so sorry to miss it, but she isn’t feeling all that well, poor little lamb.”
“Er… thank you. What’s wrong with her?” It felt a bit weird to be chatting to a total stranger who called me darling as if we had known each other for ever, but then again… she was really nice. She meant well. She seemed so friendly and warm that I struggled to understand how she put up with miserable old Fredric in her house.
“Well, you see, that’s why I’m here. She was bitten by a leech.”
A leech. Just like Kahla and my dad? What was it with those leeches?
KA-boooooooooooooooooooooommmmmmm m mmmmm…
A crack of thunder broke right above our heads and shivered the window panes and the walls themselves; a flash of lightning followed the very next second. The light was so bright I had to close my eyes for a moment.
“Now do come inside,” Alichia said again. “What are we doing standing out here chatting, when the sky is about to open…”
It was as if the flash of lightning had split the clouds. One minute the rain had been a spattering of big but singular drops. The next it was like standing under a shower turned to maximum.
The three of us hurried through the door and Alichia slammed it hard behind us to shut out the storm. Even so, those few seconds were enough for my hair to be soaked through and cling to my face, and I could feel little streams of rain trickle down my neck and under my collar.
“A leech,” Aunt Isa said sharply. “What kind?”
“Well, that’s the funny thing,” Alichia said. “I thought I knew every leech in the wildworld, but I’ve never seen one of these before.”
Rainwater wasn’t the only thing sending a prickly cold sensation down my spine… Aunt Isa had produced the jam jar and its inhabitant from her rucksack, but she barely had time to ask: “Do you know what this is?”
Alichia studied our fat, striped leech for barely a second.
“Yes,” she said as her eyes widened in wonder. “Wherever did you get that?”
Alichia ushered us into Westmark’s huge, old-fashioned kitchen, while she boiled water for tea and fetched some old towels that were clean and dry, yet somehow managed to smell a bit mouldy.
“You could easily catch a cold or worse,” she said, taking out bread from the bread bin and jam from the larder with familiar ease. “How about some soup as well? You’d like a little soup, wouldn’t you?”
“If it’s not too much trouble…” Aunt Isa said. “But I’d like to just see Shanaia first.”
“She’s asleep, poor little lamb. It’s best not to wake her; she’ll come downstairs when she wakes up. And the soup is ready, I made it for Shanaia, and I think it’s still hot.” She lifted the lid of a giant pot that contained enough soup to feed an army. “So, sit yourselves down and put your feet up… I’m just sorting out some dinner for the bird.” She held up a bowl full of bloody meat scraps – for Kitti probably. Then she disappeared out of the door, and I presumed she was going to Shanaia’s room. I couldn’t imagine Kitti being anywhere else right now, not if Shanaia was ill.
The soup was rich and red and packed with vegetables, and it warmed us up after our soaking. The thunder rumbled on outside, and the lamps in the old house flickered with every thunderclap.
“This is like something out of a horror movie,” Oscar said. “Any minute now a zombie will push against the window, trying to come in and eat our brains…”
“Stop it,” I said. “Zombies aren’t real. Are they, Aunt Isa?”
Aunt Isa tucked a wet lock of hair behind her ear. “It depends on what you mean by zombies,” she said in a calm and factual tone, as if we were just discussing some kind of exotic animal.
Why didn’t she just say no outright? It would have been so much more reassuring. Oscar looked up with an excited, freckly grin, of course he did, and started questioning the expert.
“Half-rotten cadavers crawling out of their graves to eat the living,” he said. “That kind of zombies. Are they real?”
“I’ve never heard of anything like that,” Aunt Isa said. “Zombies tend to be fairly peaceful – poor, confused souls so affected by poison and witchcraft that they no longer know if they’re dead or alive. You have to feel sorry for them. No, it’s the person who creates the zombies you should be afraid of.” She blew on her spoonful of soup to cool it down. “This business about eating the living – that sounds more like a revenant.”
And that’s when I got goosebumps for real because I knew only too well what a revenant was. A hurt and lonely girl called Kimmie had turned into Chimera because of a revenant.
“Someone trying to get back to life,” I whispered. Someone who stole lives in order to become alive enough to “crawl out of the grave”, as Oscar put it. Chimera was dead now and Kimmie’s soul was free – but what had happened to the hungry one who wanted to live again?
KA-BOOOOOOOooooooom. Yet another crash of thunder shook the house and the light disappeared for a few seconds before it came back on, flickering as if it didn’t know whether it was welcome or not.
“I think we’d better light some candles,” Aunt Isa said. “It looks like the power could go any minute.”
Oscar leaned towards me and whispered in a distorted zombie voice.
“Brrrrraaaaiiiiinnnnnsssss. I want brrrrraaaaiiiiinnnnnsssss…”
“Oh, stop it!”
Alichia returned and put the bowl with the meat scraps to soak in the sink – or rather, the empty bowl: Kitti had cleaned her plate.
“What dreadful weather,” she said. “If it doesn’t stop soon, you’d better stay the night. Then you can talk to Shanaia tomorrow morning.”
“Is she still asleep?” I asked.
“Yes, indeed she is. It’s probably my fault. I gave her a little of my universal mixture, and it’s great for getting a good night’s sleep…” She pointed to the jam jar with the leech still on the kitchen table. “Have you fed it?”
“No,” Aunt Isa said dryly. “None of us really felt the urge.”
“It’s just another wildworld creature,” Alichia said, sounding reproachful. “And a useful and interesting creature at that!”
She unscrewed the lid and retrieved the leech with practised ease. She set it down on her forearm without hesitation, where it attached itself immediately and started drawing blood.
“That’s so cool,” Oscar said. “Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Not at all. On the contrary.” Her smile was aimed at both Oscar and the hungry leech, I thought. “It numbs me first. A leech is a tiny, living pharmacy. Not only can it take away pain, it can also make the blood run without coagulating. It has been a medicinal remedy for thousands of years across the world, and it’s still being used today – even by some of those stuck-up doctors who don’t normally give two hoots for nature. There, my little friend. That’s enough. You let go now…” She stroked the leech a couple of times with a delicate forefinger and hummed to it, and the animal released its hold as if it had been trained to do so. Alichia eased it back into the jam jar. There was a little blood on Alichia’s arm, but again she hummed a couple of lengthy notes and stroked her skin, and the flow stopped. It was nothing like the bloodbath I’d caused when I tore that same leech off my dad.
“It’s clearly related to the medicinal leech,” she said.
“But if they’re so… so good for us…” I said, “then why did Shanaia get ill? And aren’t you scared of getting ill too?”
She looked a little surprised, as if the thought had never even crossed her mind.
“Of course a leech bite can get infected, just like any other wound,” she said, “and they can transmit diseases if they’ve sucked blood from people or animals who were sick, but that rarely happens. I’m as fit as a butcher’s dog, darling, and I’m never ill. Don’t you worry about me.”
I thought about my dad, who’d been lying in the grass unconscious, and who was still too out of it to remember what had happened.
“Can it make you pass out?” I asked.
“No, darling. That takes more than a single, little leech bite.”
“But what if you got several? Four or five, say?”
She shook her head. “I still don’t think so. Would you like to try for yourself? It’s fairly sated now, so it’ll only take a few drops.”
She stuck her hand into the jar and fished out the leech again, but I withdrew instinctively. Quite a long way back…
“Eh… no thanks. I don’t really feel like it.”
“No? Are you sure? It’s a useful thing for a wildwitch to know.”
“I’m game!” Oscar said, sticking out his arm. “I’ve never tried this before!”
Neither had I, but I still wasn’t tempted. I’d never been bitten by a spider or a snake either, yet that didn’t make me want to “try” it! Oscar made it sound like a new rollercoaster ride.
Alichia looked at Oscar’s outstretched arm, a little taken aback.
“Very well, my friend. Let’s see if it wants to.”
“No, Oscar, don’t you dare!”
“It’s completely safe,” Alichia said.
“It might well be,” I said. “But how are you going to explain the marks to your mum when you get home?”
Oscar quickly pulled back his arm.
“Oh, I’d forgotten about that…” he said.
An angry flash of lightning turned everything in the kitchen black and white like an old photograph. The thunder crash came rolling almost at once, and this time the lights flickered for longer.
“You drink your tea,” Alichia said. “And I’ll get you some bedding. You won’t be going anywhere tonight.”
Aunt Isa looked as if she were about to say something – perhaps she felt it was a decision we should make ourselves. But before she had time to object, there was another flash of lightning. The thunder followed instantly this time, and when the light went out, it didn’t come back on.
“Looks like we’d better find some candles,” Aunt Isa said.
Alichia had made up a bed for me in one of the turret rooms, that is, if you could call Westmark’s rounded corner protuberances turrets – they weren’t really tall enough. The raindrops pelted the windowpane, the storm raged and the trees creaked. I won’t get a wink of sleep, I thought. I was dog-tired and was desperate for a good night’s rest, but there was something about the thunder… maybe I’d paid too much attention to Oscar’s ridiculous zombie stories. I certainly jumped every time there was a flash of lightning and the shadows in the room turned pitch-black and scary.
There was a click and the door opened – softly and carefully – as if whoever was outside didn’t want to be seen or heard.
“Who is it?” I said, possibly a little louder than strictly necessary.
“Only me, darling,” Alichia said and opened the door fully. She had a steaming mug in one hand. “I didn’t want to wake you, if you were asleep.”
“No, so I can see. Thunder and lightning can be daunting to even the bravest. But I was wondering if maybe a cup of hot chocolate might cheer you up?”
She said it as if it was going to be our little secret.
It was very nice of her, of course, but the soup and the tea were already sloshing around my tummy, and I didn’t fancy anything else. I just couldn’t think of a polite way to say no.
“Er, thanks…” I said. Mostly so as not to hurt her feelings.
She came right inside, put the mug on the bedside table and sat down on the edge of my bed.
“How was your Tridecimal, darling?” she asked and patted my hand. “Was it exciting?”
The question made me feel guilty. All those animals, all those eyes… I’d promised to help, but I was no closer to finding out how, despite everything that had happened.
“It was… fine,” I said. I sipped my cocoa like a good girl, but was really wishing she would leave. Not because she wasn’t being nice, because she was – awfully nice, in fact – but I thought that business with the leeches was gross, and it was hard not to think that the hand now patting me also liked stroking leeches. It was like the few times I’d met someone who wanted to be my friend more than I wanted to be theirs – it made me feel sort of embarrassed and guilty even while I was wishing they would just go away.
Alichia was in no hurry to leave – she seemed to have all the time in the world.
“What animal did you meet?”
“There were… several.”
“Really? Well, that happens sometimes. Were you frightened?”
“Not really.”
She sighed.
“Well, I think we are making our wildwitch children grow up much too soon.” Suddenly she looked so sad that I felt even more guilty about wanting her to leave. Perhaps she was lonely. I mean, there must be a limit to how many thrilling conversations you can have with a leech.
“Do you have children?” I asked.
“One. That’s to say… I had… I had a daughter. She was your age when she… disappeared.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
I remembered the picture in the house on stilts. A girl with blonde hair like Alichia’s and eyes almost the same shade of raisin-brown. That must be her – the missing daughter.
And then something clicked into place. Tridecimal Night. Fair hair and brown eyes. Mum’s voice:
“Her name was Lia. Her mother was also a wildwitch, but Lia wasn’t sure if she wanted to be one herself. She… she was a gentle girl, a little insecure at times, but brave in her own way. We always stuck together and so no one ever really teased us. She had brown eyes like you, but very fair hair.”
Was that her? If so, she hadn’t just disappeared. She’d been killed. Eaten alive. Eaten by the animal she’d tried to help.
Did I remind her of Lia? Was that why she was sitting here, stroking my hand, being nice? I didn’t like to ask. But I drank a little more of my cocoa, and smiled cautiously.
“Thank you,” I said. “Now I don’t feel scared any more.”
“I’m glad,” she said, patting my hand again. “Sleep tight, darling.”
I didn’t think I’d be able to fall asleep as long as there was thunder and lightning across Westmark. But my eyelids grew heavy, in fact my whole body grew heavier and heavier until at last I was asleep.
When I woke up, I couldn’t remember where I was.
I wasn’t properly awake, and my body felt as if I had gained about twenty-five kilos in my sleep. The duvet covering me was like a damp sack of cement pushing me down into the mattress, and it wasn’t until I heard the distant rumble of thunder that I remembered the storm, Westmark, Alichia and the leeches.
I fumbled for the light switch, and I found it, but nothing happened when I pressed it. The ancient wiring in the house seemed to have given up the unequal fight against the storm.
I knew there were candles, candlesticks and matches on the chest of drawers next to my bed, but when I reached out my hand, I almost knocked over the cocoa mug.
Finally I found the matches and managed to light a candle. And that was when I spotted it. Or rather, spotted them.
Up my arm in an almost straight line, there were five round marks. And inside each of them, I could clearly see the little “Y”-shaped bite marks left behind by a leech.