The train juddered, the quad bike behind her squeaking on its suspension.
Steph hadn’t seen Karina since, instead spending the last few months locked away, leverage to make sure her mother followed orders.
Would Karina be looking for her?
Would she have noticed that the day Steph disappeared was the same day that Reeves caused a massacre?
How relieved would she be if Steph turned up on her doorstep? With her mother’s notes and a breakthrough to share?
With a shiver of goosebumps, Steph turned to her stolen pages. Even at a glance, she could see the banishing would be taxing on even the most powerful Abra. How had Mum planned to draw the necessary power?
Lump rising in her throat, she turned the page. Oh. Right.
‘How is he?’ she heard Amanda say, her voice spiking through Steph’s thoughts with a twist of hate.
‘Fine,’ Caleb rumbled.
‘He even awake?’ asked Skeebs.
‘No. Still out.’
‘But you saying he was awake,’ said Skeebs, ‘right?’
‘No,’ said Amanda. ‘He was no different. Doesn’t seem to be trying it any more. Effort wore him out and the chains pulled him back in.’
‘He must be pretending. No way he can do that and still be asleep.’
Steph snorted. She knew the truth but wasn’t going to volunteer it. The demon had never been asleep. It lurked and watched while the meat it inhabited slept and healed. It had built enough strength to push through her mother’s flawed wardings to try and escape but Amanda had held it off. It was listening now, gathering its strength for another attempt.
‘Forget it,’ said Caleb. ‘He’s out. Think I can’t tell the difference?’
‘All I’m saying is, if he’s like this when he’s asleep, how bad’s he going to be when he’s awake?’
Worse, thought Steph with a shudder.
‘You’re the only one who knows the answer to that,’ said Amanda.
‘And when were you going to tell me about the whole possession thing?’
‘Probably never. Doesn’t change anything.’
‘Then why didn’t you tell me? Where’s the sense in that? If I’d known then I wouldn’t have tried to do him just now. Or in the van.’
‘Well you know now. You try to kill him, could be you he’s wearing by the time we get to the circle.’
‘That’s a headfuck, man. Can’t we keep him down? Like with tranqs or something?’
‘We tried that. He just shrugged them off. It’s the chains, they’re helping keep him under. There’s no telling how strong he’d be without them. Bridget said when he started to get around the chains, we were to give him a beating. That’d buy us time. We just didn’t think we’d have so little.’
‘Then how about we keep beating on him?’
‘Can’t risk going too far,’ said Caleb. ‘He dies it’s our lives on the line.’
‘Alright then, explain this. He got hold of you, how come he had you beating on Caleb? Why not just get you to beat his own brains out? Then he jumps into you or me or whatever and he’s not in chains no more.’
Steph snorted again. There was a lull in the conversation. This time she knew that they had heard her and she regretted making the sounds at all.
‘Because a jump takes a lot out of him,’ said Amanda. ‘Takes a lot of power. He’d done that then he’d have lost his hold on me. Then whoever was left would have had time to check to see who he jumped into, looking for those tattoos, and get him back in chains. By the time he got his strength back to try again we’d have made it to the circle. I reckon his play was to get me to kill the rest of you, make it so I was the only one he could hop into. Then he’d have had me kill him last. He’d jump into me and be free and clear. No one around to stop him. But we’re onto him now. We stay on our toes, train keeps moving, the plan keeps working. In the end, that’s it.’
‘What about her? What you getting her to do?’
Steph heard the sigh. ‘Heat up some water. I could do with a brew.’
Hearing Amanda approach, Steph leapt to her feet, her bravery deserting her. She fumbled to shove the notes back up her top.
Amanda pushed through the curtain and stood over her. Her eyes widened and Steph realised the pen was still hanging out of her mouth.
Whipping it away, the girl dredged up a scowl which broke the moment that Amanda’s eyes travelled down to her midriff. The shape of the papers beneath her top were embarrassingly obvious.
Amanda glared at them. She didn’t need to ask what they were.
Steph didn’t know what to say. Too afraid that even the slightest noise or movement might break the fragile, breathless interlude before all hell broke loose.
To her surprise, Amanda was the first to look away, scratching at an eyebrow.
‘Sit down,’ said Amanda.
She did as she was told, perching herself on the front of the quad. She pulled the notes out from under her top, holding them in her lap.
Amanda glanced at them before looking away again with a frustrated snort.
The woman crouched down before her, wincing and keeping her back straight. It took some of the menace out of her.
She gave Steph another look, at the chewed-up pen in her hand. It was the longest she’d ever acknowledged her existence. Steph wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.
‘You hear any of that?’ Amanda asked.
Steph nodded, then, realising more was needed, she explained about the demon trapped in the unconscious body. ‘He’ll be worse when he wakes. He’ll find ways past the runes faster and faster and the holes will get bigger and bigger until it’s like they’re not there any more.’
Amanda nodded. Looked like the words were hard to swallow. ‘What can we do?’
‘Nothing.’ A lie. There was probably something hidden in the books but she didn’t want to tell her that, didn’t want to show her ignorance and then risk wasting hours searching.
‘And how will it get worse?’
She shrugged. ‘No one’s lived long enough to study them. They get summoned, they break free and they start killing. They just spread pain and misery until they get tired and leave again. A banishing’s just never happened.’
Amanda’s face clouded over. ‘You’re here because you’re supposed to be the expert. We don’t have time for your information-hoarding Abra bullshit.’
‘But you won’t let me have my mum’s bag. I’ve not even had a chance to read these yet.’ She let the notes rise and fall in her lap.
‘If I thought I could trust you—’
‘I was trying to help. I’ve never done anything untrustworthy. Why do you hate us so much?’ It came out much whinier than Steph had intended. ‘Mum told me you hated Abras. But you’ve never even met me. Mum said it was something to do with your dad and that you…’ the words withered at the look that crossed Amanda’s face. ‘But magic is a good thing,’ she insisted. ‘It could make so many people’s lives easier. All the lives we could save and all the resources we wouldn’t have to use.’
‘All the power in the wrong hands. No way for ordinary people to see it or use it.’
‘Anyone can use magic. They just have to study it.’
‘Exactly. Have to. But what if they choose not to? Don’t want the headaches, the nosebleeds, the fatigue and the sterility? That’s just tough shit for them? They’re at the mercy of them that learned it and if they’re exploited that’s their fault? Exploited by corrupt bastards drunk on what they got at their own fingertips? Thinking they’re above people because they can manipulate them when they’re the last people who should be in charge. And for what? So ordinary people won’t have to buy light bulbs.’
‘What about saving people’s lives? To be able to live in London and work in New York?’
‘More incidents like this. Experiments gone wrong. Hundreds dead. So unregulated the police would have to increase their powers to keep people under control. We got technology, that’s good enough for me.’
‘So you prefer power when it’s something you buy?’
‘I’m saying it’s better.’
‘You get that you’re a criminal, right? And you’re talking about regulation and control.’
‘I’m talking about power. I ain’t putting myself above people. I’m just making a living.’
‘By hurting people. And taking what isn’t yours.’
‘I never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. And I never robbed anyone who couldn’t afford to lose what I took.’
‘Know that for a fact do you? You’ve never hurt a single innocent person?’
Caleb cleared his throat and a look of guilt splashed across Amanda’s face.
‘There you go then,’ said Steph. ‘I know plenty of Abras who haven’t hurt anyone. They just want to help people. That’s a lot more than you can say. You just want to help yourselves.’
‘Then you watch them and see what happens with anything they discover. World doesn’t work hard to make good things happen. Magic’s just another way for people to be shitty to one another. It’s like banking or law. Your lot are dressing it up in all this noble bullshit, pretending it’s not something that’s going to put you ahead. But I guarantee that’s what will happen every time. Fuck magic.’
‘And so your solution is to be really shitty to me? Like this is all my fault and that I want to be here? Like I’m not all alone and my mum is… my mum is dead…’ The final words cut off to a whisper.
She watched a dozen responses cross Amanda’s features. The woman raised a hand and for a moment, Steph didn’t know if she was going to slap her or pat her on the shoulder. She’d got so caught in the argument, her headache carrying her too far into anger that for a moment she’d forgotten who she was talking to.
Instead, Amanda got up and walked away.
Steph’s lip curled, tears came. She hadn’t said the truth aloud until now and the word ‘dead’ had made it more real. Again, her mum’s death had ambushed her. She wondered if it would always be like this.
She leapt for the curtain pulled it closed again but by the time she had, the grief was gone, flushed out again and leaving her hollow.
God, she was all alone and trapped and she didn’t know what she was going to do. Even the kindness here was tainted, the gloves the big one had given her had had a bloodstain in the lining and she’d been too frightened to mention it. She wanted her mum here, or Karina, she’d even settle for someone from school, any familiar face would do. Anything so she wouldn’t be alone and in her head and in—
A hand tapped at the curtain, snapping her from her thoughts.
Amanda was back, the scowl receded to a frown as she pointed to the table. ‘Should be everything,’ she said.
There was her mother’s bag, knife and all.
Steph looked at her, waited for more.
‘Check it,’ she said, a dismissive flick of the hand. ‘I’m trusting you. Try not to fuck it up or hurt yourself.’
Her mum’s bag. She’d wanted this for so long and now it was here and it was taking everything she had not to tear through it, starving.
There was the knife. She set it aside. A bowl. There were the textbooks. It felt strange to hold them. There was a strange thrill, knowing she could read them as long as she wanted, pour over them. These were hers. It was a feeling she’d yearned for for so long that it came almost immediately. Like she could eat as much ice cream as she wanted and know that she’d never feel sick from it.
She sat down – headache forgotten.
The textbooks were large paperbacks, the designs on the covers basic, in primary colours. These were for knowledge, not fun. They were illegal printings, done on the cheap and on the sly. Produced by people with day jobs and no skill in book making. There were misspellings and smudged words, words on one page would shine through onto the opposite side.
She flicked through them, her stomach flipping at the sight of all those symbols. Here and there, Mum had made little annotations in her neat handwriting.
There was even more in her notebook, pages of crammed, copperplate writing. Hand-drawn sigils. Thoughts and musings and theories. Her mother’s voice on every page.
She checked the chalk, spray paint, pens, pencils, ink, sterile needles, cloth wipes, medical gloves, Band-Aids, antiseptic wipes, mascara pencil. It was all there as far as she could see.
‘He killed my family.’ She hadn’t even noticed Amanda taking the seat opposite. She’d brought two cups of tea with her, pushed one across the table. Rolling back the sleeve of her coat, Amanda gave air to the angry burn on her wrist. ‘You know that?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s something we’ve got in common. We’re both here to get revenge.’
‘Was it bad? When my mum died. Did she… did it hurt?’
‘Don’t know how long she fought him for. But when he won, it was pretty quick.’
‘And did you bury her?’
‘She’s being sent home. Should be waiting for you when you get back. Have you got everything you need?’
‘I think so. The knife will need another blessing. I can feel it’s been enchanted already but we’ll need to do it again to make sure it’s powerful enough. If we did the ritual now, I’d be worried that he’d be able to come back.’
She looked to Amanda for confirmation. The woman was taking a sip of her tea, hiding her expression, Steph’s words as bitter to her as the brew. ‘Whatever you need,’ she said.
‘I’ll also need a tattoo. I can mix up the ink but I’ll need someone else to apply it for me. It’ll need to be precise, otherwise the ritual could kill me. The tattoo will protect me from the counter-effects and make sure the power doesn’t burn me from the inside out or anything. I’m not strong enough that I’ll be able to hold myself together.’
‘Skeebs will help you,’ said Amanda.
The boy was back by his sleeping bag, holding his hand up in front of his face and blinking. He shot the pair of them a dirty look at the mention of his name.
‘There isn’t someone else?’ asked Steph, lowering her voice.
‘He’s the best artist among us, when his hands are steady. You’ll just have to trust him. He wants this over even more than you do. When can you get started?’
Steph didn’t think this fragile truce between them was sturdy enough to stand her admitting that she didn’t know how to do anything that she’d just said.
‘I should read these,’ she said, pulling the books toward her. ‘Just double-check I got it all.’
‘Sure you’re up to it?’
Like she would even dare say ‘no’. ‘I know what I’m doing.’
‘The man who sent you. He’s got my daughter. She’s trapped with a man who would hurt her just because he’s bored. I need you to make it work. Understand?’
Steph nodded.
‘Then get started.’
‘There’s one more thing.’
Amanda sighed. ‘Go on.’
‘The ritual, even just looking at my mum’s notes, it takes a lot of power.’
‘Right.’ The word came sharp as an icicle.
‘A lot of power,’ Steph said. ‘Blood magic power.’
Amanda flinched, grabbing the crook of her elbow. For a moment her expression was a raw, open wound – all round eyes and down-turned lips. Then the mask was back on again.
‘We’re not doing that. That bastard’s been the cause of enough blood already.’
‘What’s blood magic?’ asked Skeebs.
No one replied, Amanda facing away at the wall so that no one would see her expression. Steph was unsure if she should speak. The only person looking vaguely sympathetic to her plight was Caleb. ‘Go on,’ he said.
‘You can use human blood to fuel spells,’ Steph explained. ‘You can use your own but someone else’s is a massive boost to your powers. It could be enough to beat him.’
‘Well there you fucking go,’ said Skeebs. ‘You can use mine.’ He held out an arm. ‘What’s the fucking problem?’
‘Problem is,’ said Amanda, ‘is that it’s fucking evil.’
‘It’s not evil—’ said Steph.
‘It’s evil,’ Amanda cut her off. ‘It’s…’
‘What her dad used to do,’ said Caleb into the silence.
‘It’s incredibly addictive,’ said Steph. ‘So unless you have a ready supply of blood to hand…’
Amanda made a noise, scratching at her arm.
‘…blood mages don’t last long. They end up going to extreme lengths to get more blood until they get themselves killed. I’ve heard some of them even eat themselves. I think my mum was hoping…’ Steph’s brow furrowed, the idea too deep to take in all at once. ‘I think she was hoping your boss would help her afterwards, keep her fed.’
She would never have been able to join a mages’ circle again, Steph realised. Her mother had been desperate, desperate to live, desperate to salvage her pride, desperate to further magic.
‘There you go then,’ said Skeebs. ‘AK’s good for it. He’ll keep you swimming in it the rest of your life.’
Caleb grunted. ‘Under his thumb more like.’
‘There’ll be another way,’ said Amanda.
‘Another way,’ said Skeebs. ‘Thought you said you’d do anything to get your girl back.’
‘No one saying we won’t if we have to,’ said Caleb.
‘Yes, they are,’ said Amanda. ‘I’m saying that. Otherwise I’m no better than my father, I let this happen.’
‘But you ain’t the one taking the blood, she is,’ Skeebs pointed to Steph.
‘Does she want to?’ asked Caleb.
‘Not really,’ said Steph, apologetically.
‘Settled then,’ said Amanda. ‘We find another way.’
Steph swallowed, the agreement washing her stomach with a wave of nausea – the weight of a very adult responsibility. She could feel their eyes on her, their silence expectant.
She had a lot of learning to do and fast. She hoped she knew what she was doing.
But a few hours later, the whispering began.