Fire (18 page)

Anna-Karin tries to grasp what Vanessa is saying. Tries
to get into her head that she is not alone, exactly as Minoo said. She tightens her grip on Minoo’s hand, despite worrying that her own is sweaty.

Alexander looks contemptuous as he turns to Vanessa.

‘Who is this?’ he asks Viktor.

‘She is Vanessa Dahl,’ Viktor replies promptly.

‘“She” can speak for herself, just so you know,’ Vanessa snaps.

‘We are here to help you,’ Alexander says. ‘You are hugely important to us. Indeed, to the whole world.’

Anna-Karin realises that he doesn’t mean a word of all that. On the contrary. He doesn’t even try to control the undertone of scorn in what he says.

‘However, this trial is necessary,’ Alexander continues. ‘It is a consequence of the severe breaches that have been committed against the laws of magic.’

‘What crimes is Anna-Karin actually charged with?’ Minoo asks.

Alexander turns to stare at her.

‘Minoo Falk Karimi,’ Viktor prompts.

‘Is that so?’ Alexander says with a hint of interest in his dark brown eyes. ‘Anna-Karin was told by Adriana Lopez to cease using magic for personal gain. She did not desist as ordered. You know the laws of the Council.’

Alexander turns to look at Anna-Karin and, once more, terror grabs her by the throat.

‘Three laws, all straightforward,’ he instructs. ‘You are not allowed to practise magic without the permission of the Council. You are not allowed to use your magic powers to break non-magic laws. Finally, you are not allowed to reveal to the non-magic population that you are witches. In the case of Anna-Karin, we are certain that she is in breach of at least two of these laws. Probably all three.’

Anna-Karin is gasping for air. Just to escape that ice-cold, merciless gaze she would confess to practically anything.

‘But, as a matter of fact, we were all given our powers before we even knew that the Council existed,’ Minoo says. ‘I am saying that Anna-Karin hasn’t committed any crime whatsoever, surely you can’t be accused of breaking the laws of magic when you don’t even know that such laws exist?’

Anna-Karin sneaks a glance at Minoo and sees that her cheeks are blushing bright red. Obviously, she is nearly as scared of Alexander as Anna-Karin. And yet she dares to contradict him.

‘Naturally not,’ Alexander replies coolly.

‘Good,’ Minoo says. ‘I wanted that clarified.’

‘I can assure you that the trial will be thorough and just, from beginning to end,’ Alexander says. ‘Afterwards, Adriana will continue to train you.’

Miss Lopez’s face is immobile. She just stands there, like a wax doll.

‘One more thing,’ Alexander says. ‘Until the Council has arrived at a sentence, you are all strictly forbidden to use magic. Viktor will keep you under surveillance at school and we have our methods for continuing to supervise you also during your leisure time. We will get in touch as and when you are required for interrogation.’

He walks towards the steps. But someone moves to block his way. Linnéa. Of course.

Anna-Karin’s heart does a somersault inside her chest. She feels like screaming at Linnéa to keep out of this. Alexander is dangerous, can’t she see that?

‘Linnéa Wallin, I presume,’ Alexander says. ‘And what’s on your mind?’

‘Just a minor problem. The apocalypse.’

‘We have plenty of time, enough to deal with the present case, as well as training you for future battles.’

‘Why should we listen to you at all? You need us more than we need you.’

A faint smile flickers on Alexander’s lips.

‘Really? Well, if you believe that you must act accordingly. And be prepared to cope with the consequences.’

His eyes suddenly fix on Linnéa. She whimpers and puts her hands to her head as if a blow has been struck. Her sunglasses crash to the floor.

‘So, I wouldn’t try that kind of move again if I were you,’ Alexander says.

These are his final words.

He walks to the car, closely followed by Viktor and Adriana.

Linnéa’s aching head stays painful for the time it takes her to walk along the gravelled track and cross the main road. She ought not to have let herself be provoked by Alexander. He had of course worked out that she would try to find out what he was thinking and was ready for her. He flung back at her the power she had directed against him. Inside Linnéa’s head, the feedback howl is tailing off but still reverberating.

They had scattered once the meeting was over. They had a lot to talk about, but didn’t dare to do it openly. From now on, they have to stay alert not only for spies from the demons, but also from the Council.

Linnéa’s mobile pings. A message from Minoo to say that they should meet up in Nicolaus’s flat tomorrow night to decide on exactly what to say in the interrogations. Linnéa replies that she’ll be there. Most of all, though, she would like to be shot of the whole scene.

‘Linnéa!’

She turns when she hears the familiar voice.

Vanessa is jogging towards her.

Linnéa knows that hope can be a trap, but she can’t help it. Vanessa wants to talk to her.

‘All right if we walk together for a bit?’ Vanessa asks.

‘Sure,’ Linnéa says, as coolly as she can.

For quite a long while, they walk along the main road in
silence. Linnéa doesn’t dare to say anything, for fear that she might ruin this moment, manage to do something wrong now that Vanessa seems prepared once more to be close to her.

She is so, so lovely, Linnéa thinks.

Behind her sunglasses, she looks at Vanessa’s brown legs and arms. Skin that she will never touch. Her neck, the contours of her body under the tight vest that has slipped a little and exposes part of the curve of the small of her back. Her freshly highlighted hair that glows against the dark trees along the road.

Of course, Vanessa knows that she looks great. To her, that is just a fact. But Linnéa believes that Vanessa hasn’t understood what a beautiful
human being
she is.

At first, it was so easy to underestimate Vanessa. A chick with her hair dyed blonde, impossibly short skirts and thick layers of lipgloss. Wille’s new squeeze. But Linnéa, who should know all there is to know about being judged without a hearing, was soon forced to accept that she, too, had been prejudiced.

Vanessa is brave. Smart. Honest. Instinctively, she’s a good person. A true heroine. Wille is her one and only weakness, her kryptonite.

Wille is such a fucking creep. He never deserved her. Linnéa doesn’t even want to think about Wille and Vanessa having sex, but because she has been with him, it is hard to prevent her brain projecting detailed images.

There is an ache inside Linnéa as she tries to imagine what putting her arm around Vanessa would feel like. Or kissing her lips, which look so soft. Jonte’s party comes back to her, or rather, the moment when Vanessa came out of the bathroom and touched Linnéa’s arm. Or when Vanessa came round to her place and they sat on the sofa. Their legs brushed against
each other and everything felt, for once, as if the whole world was in harmony.

Linnéa should have kissed her, there and then.

But she has never picked up a single thought in Vanessa’s mind that suggests that she feels the same way. And Vanessa’s thoughts are so incredibly
clear
. There have been a few times when she thought that Linnéa looked good, but that means nothing. Linnéa has thought that lots of people look good without being in love with them.

In love.

The phrase seems too feeble.

‘You know, there are times I wish
I
knew what
you
were thinking,’ Vanessa says.

Linnéa is pulled back to reality. Vanessa smiles at her.

‘Why do you say that?’ Linnéa asks.

‘You look so mysterious.’

‘No mystery. Just a headache.’

Vanessa stops. Linnéa, too.

‘I want to ask you to forgive me,’ Vanessa says. ‘That time at the cemetery. I overreacted. Later on, I realised you had seen that my ring wasn’t there any more, and—’

‘And I shouldn’t have said what I did,’ Linnéa says and steels herself. ‘I’m sorry.’

Vanessa kicks a discarded beer can. It bounces across the tarmac, rattling as it goes.

‘Is it all right with you if we don’t have, like, a big heart-to-heart?’ Vanessa asks. ‘And instead just … have made up already?’

Linnéa is so relieved she feels about to lift off.

‘Absolutely fine,’ she says.

‘I’ve missed you,’ Vanessa tells her.

And I’ve missed you, Linnéa would like to say. And add, you have no idea how much.

But it is so terribly hard to say these very words,
and I’ve missed you
, without sounding false and artificial.

She is silent for a second too long and Vanessa seems to feel awkward, looks away. Linnéa’s mobile pings again. She pokes about, finds it. A text from Olivia.

Call me back OK?

Linnéa pretends to study this intently as they walk towards the centre of town.

‘Check that,’ Vanessa says after a while and points at the sky. It is covered by massive thunderclouds, so dark blue they are almost black.

‘At last,’ Linnéa says.

‘Absolutely. Everyone had almost stopped believing it would happen,’ Vanessa says, still looking upwards.

So that’s how it goes. They’re talking about the
weather
.

Linnéa would like to suggest that they might go to her flat. Turn the lights off and sit by the windows up there and watch the flashes of lightning. But maybe all that would only scare Vanessa away?

She has no idea about what you’re meant to do if you’re actually in love with somebody. This is completely new to her. Usually, she hardly even
likes
the people she goes with. They simply surface in her life and she allows them to hang out with her to pass the time, to distract her restless mind for the time being. Fill the emptiness a little.

They reach the centre of Engelsfors and Linnéa’s eyes automatically scan the boozer seats as they pass by. She concentrates so hard on this that she almost misses him standing on the pavement a little further away.

Björn Wallin is wearing a bright yellow T-shirt with P E! printed on the chest. A laughing sun makes the dot of the exclamation mark. His hair is nicely combed. The look in his eye is alert and sober. And his front teeth are new, white and
even, where before there were obvious gaps which caused the lower half of his face to sag.

A memory stirs in Linnéa.

Summer holiday. She and Elias had been in the forest. They had been playing – she couldn’t remember what, apart from feeling it was a game they had really grown too old for. But they were happy. Still lots of days before school began. It had been great.

She had come back home and the flat was dark. It smelled badly, so badly that she always worried that the smell would stick to her when she went outside. That it would follow her wherever she went and give her away for what she was. The smell of a drunk’s kid.

She had called to her dad. Heard him mutter something in the bathroom.

And Linnéa remembers exactly how hard her heart had been beating when she opened the door. She remembers exactly how her father looked where he lay on the floor, his mouth sticky with vomit, every breath a snort. And the absence of life behind his eyes.

‘Help me,’ he whimpered.

For the first time, Linnéa had shut the door on him. She had seen this too often before.

And now he is standing right here, with a bundle of colourful flyers in his hand. He has spotted her already.

She can’t get away.

‘Linnéa?’ he says and comes closer.

His voice sounds worn, the voice of a man who has had a hard life, but it is not slurred.

He hugs Linnéa and she picks up the smell of aftershave. But no alcohol, no ingrained cigarette smoke. No filthy clothes, lived in for too long. She stands quite still in his arms, her own arms hanging limply down her sides.

‘Dearest child,’ he mumbles in Linnéa’s ear and now she backs away.

‘Would you like me to …?’ Vanessa asks, making a vague gesture that means
stay or go
?

‘I’ll be in touch soon,’ Linnéa says.

Vanessa nods and walks off. There was understanding in her eyes, and pity, too. As always, that fucking pity. Linnéa swallows hard and turns to her father.

‘You look well,’ she says stiffly.

But would like to add, how long will it last this time? How long, before you’re back ringing my doorbell because you want to borrow money?

‘Linnéa,’ he says and tries to hold her hands.

She pulls away.

‘It’s not just that I am feeling well,’ he tells her. ‘I have become a completely new person. Sure, I know I’ve said that many times before. But this time I have changed fundamentally.’

He hands her one of the flyers and she notices that his nails are clean.

‘Look. Helena Malmgren and Positive Engelsfors have saved my life.’

She studies the sheet of paper. Two middle-aged couples are sitting in a summer meadow, their faces glowing golden in the light of the setting sun. One of the women rests her head against her man’s chest. Her eyes are dreamily shut and her smile radiates total peace.

The caption wishes everyone welcome to Positive Engelsfors. And then:

‘MAN OR WOMAN, YOUNG OR OLD. POSITIVE ENGELSFORS – FOR A POSITIVE FUTURE!’

‘They’ve offered me a job,’ her father says. ‘We open today.’

He nods over his shoulder and now Linnéa realises that the street ahead is packed with people. Children are running around waving bright yellow helium balloons.

A heavy drop falls on the flyer, spreads across the shiny print. Linnéa looks up at the sky. The thunderclouds hang above them like a lid.

‘I’ve been offered a flat as well,’ he continues. ‘You must come and see me.’

‘Must? I don’t think so.’

Her father nods.

‘I understand why you feel that way. But give me a chance to prove that you can trust me now.’

‘I won’t give you any more chances.’

A part of her regrets this immediately. What if he really
is
serious this time? What if her refusal to believe in him drives him to start drinking again?