When the final school bell rang, Callum sprang from his chair and headed to his locker to collect his books. With all that had happened the previous evening, he’d had a terrible night’s sleep and an even more distracted day. He was glad to be heading home, even if it would involve a diversion to the churchyard for his next lesson with Jacob and Doom.
The eerie, bitter cold that gripped the country didn’t seem to be letting up, and the corridors of Marlock High School were packed with kids muffled in scarves, chattering about the weather. Incredible, Callum thought, how quickly the student population moved on from one issue to the next. A few weeks ago the Fetch had killed Ed Bolton, one of the school’s worst bullies, in broad daylight on a public street outside the school – but now everyone seemed caught up in something as mundane as the unnaturally cold weather.
Callum could see Melissa was waiting for him at the gates to the car park. He was pleased she’d waited – they hadn’t had a chance to talk properly since everything that happened the night before. Callum was well liked at school, but he had always tried to keep himself apart from other kids – except when he was doing the sports he loved. He hadn’t liked the idea of mixing normal people up in his supernatural troubles. But when he’d started talking to Melissa, Callum had realised how much he was missing hanging out with people his own age.
‘Hey, Callum.’
As he got closer, Callum almost laughed, but managed to stifle it just in time. Melissa was wearing a scarf made of black wool and glossy green-black feathers, bundled up around her neck so that she looked a bit like a fluffy fledgling blackbird. Melissa might be trustworthy, brave and clever, but she had the most bizarre dress sense of anyone in Marlock High School.
‘How mad was last night?’ Melissa said, shaking her head. ‘And now today seems so normal that it feels like a dream. You know what I mean?’
Callum didn’t answer. The events of last night had definitely been stressful, but not really that much weirder than the daily parade of ghosts and premonitions he’d lived with all his life. ‘Yeah, it’s been a lot to wrap your head around . . .’ Callum paused, then blurted, ‘Melissa, why did you start going on about wanting Gran to teach you magic?’ He knew it was a little abrupt, but he’d been dying to speak to her about it.
‘Jacob said only those with power can take on the Netherworld,’ Melissa pointed out. ‘Lovely Assistant isn’t the same thing, is it? I really do want to fight. So I need power. Besides, we need all the help we can get – you’re not exactly primed for taking on heaps of Netherworld demons, are you?’
Callum sighed, walking with his head down as usual, trying not to look at the spectres that always haunted the streets of Marlock village. He supposed she had a point.
‘What makes you think my gran’s the source of all knowledge, anyway?’ Callum said. ‘You saw how she was – she’s always on the defensive. All she’ll teach you are avoidance tactics. I don’t think she knows anything really big, it’s all just wards, charms, and little spells and stuff.’ He glanced up to look at Melissa. ‘But anyway, at least you’ll get a chance to crack open the chime child books tonight. Maybe there’s something useful in them, something that might even give you a head start, magic-wise.’
‘Oh, yeah, definitely!’ Melissa’s voice was suddenly injected with enthusiasm and excitement. ‘I’m really looking forward to going through the books properly. I don’t think I’ve ever actually touched anything so old, you know? And it’s really important, I’m not just going to be reading them because I’m curious. Plus,’ she said with a grin, ‘I get to be your teacher, imparting vital chime child knowledge. During our study sessions, you’ll be calling me Miss Roper, right?’
Callum laughed. ‘Dream on!’
They had reached the housing estate at the edge of town. Melissa waved at a couple of little kids messing about on the cable pyramid in the play park.
‘Everything seems so ordinary, you know?’ she said, looking around, her tone serious now.
‘Yeah,’ Callum agreed. ‘And they’re all so –’
‘– innocent.’
‘It scares me,’ Callum confessed. ‘The way no one knows what’s going on. You’d think there ought to be a big media panic: LOCK YOUR DOORS AND STAY AT HOME. THE SHADOWING IS UPON US. But life just seems to be going on like nothing’s changed.’
‘Well, nothing much has yet,’ Melissa said. ‘It’s like before the Blitz started, isn’t it? All the kids had gas masks and got evacuated but nothing happened.’
‘At least they were ready. These guys don’t have a clue,’ Callum muttered. ‘And I’m the one who’s meant to protect them all . . .’ He shook his head.
He didn’t have a choice; if he had to work twice as hard, if he had to study twice as much and train for it as well, he’d do it.
‘Maybe you should stay for dinner after your lesson with Gran?’ Callum said. ‘I think we should have our first session as soon as possible.’ He needed to prioritise, organise his brain, focus on one skill at a time. That was the kind of thing his rugby coach always encouraged the team to do.
‘Yeah,’ Melissa replied. ‘I’ll ring my mum and ask if it’s OK.’
Callum nodded, but he was distracted by a strange figure walking along the road some distance ahead of them, near the start of the woods. The man seemed confused and agitated, shuffling back and forth. Something about him seemed odd . . . threatening. Callum’s fingertips started to tingle ominously, and a chill swept him as the man slowly turned around. Callum stifled a gasp.
The figure only had half a face.
A gaping, bloody slash was opened across his head from his right temple diagonally down to the left side of his lower jaw – he had no right eye, no nose, no upper lip. Whatever had cleaved the guy’s face had mangled half his features. The mutilated man stood staring directly at him. Callum froze. He didn’t know what to do – something told him this wasn’t a situation he wanted to draw attention to . . .
‘Callum,’ Melissa’s urgent whisper made him jump. ‘D’you see that guy up ahead?’
Callum’s heart began to beat loudly. ‘Uh . . .’
‘Just where the footpath goes narrow as it enters the wood,’ Melissa said. ‘He’s got . . . oh, what, what’s wrong with . . .’ She trailed off, open-mouthed.
‘You . . . you can see him?’
The nightmarish figure raised one arm shakily, still staring at Callum with its only eye.
‘What do you mean, can I see him? How could I miss him?’ Melissa’s voice was low and trembling. She took a step backwards. But they both stopped short as the figure opened his mouth.
‘Yoooou . . .’ His voice was horribly choked.
‘Oh, no,’ Callum whispered. ‘Melissa . . .’
‘I-is he talking to you?’ she said, her eyes wide.
‘Melissa . . .’ Callum said again.
‘I – Callum, I think he must have escaped from hospital or something . . . I think we should . . .’
‘MELISSA!’ Callum shouted.
The terrifying figure took a shuffling step towards them.
‘Wh-what’s he doing?’ Melissa’s words came out as a strangled murmur.
‘Melissa,’ Callum croaked. ‘That’s a ghost.’