Fire (40 page)

The words peter out. It strikes Vanessa for the first time now that Sirpa looks sad.

Wille, Vanessa thinks. Please, don’t let anything have happened to Wille.

It is a surprisingly strong feeling.

‘How are you?’ she asks.

‘I’m fine!’ Sirpa replies, with a feeble attempt at cheerfulness. ‘Mustn’t grumble!’

Tears well up in her eyes and she wipes them away with her hand, still in a woollen glove.

‘Has something happened?’

‘No, not at all,’ Sirpa says and forces herself to laugh a little. ‘If anything, that’s the problem.
Nothing
has happened. I’m still in pain.’

At least, this hasn’t to do with Wille.

Relief floods into Vanessa’s mind, but is instantly changed to guilty conscience when she meets Sirpa’s eyes.

‘Is it your neck?’

‘Yes, you might remember it got worse last summer. When I joined PE, I really believed it could help me. Or, I should say, it would teach me something about how to help myself. To be my true self.’

‘And your true self doesn’t have a painful neck. Right?’

‘No, exactly,’ Sirpa says. Somehow it is hugely sad that she hasn’t even understood the irony in what Vanessa said. ‘Helena says that I don’t really suffer pain. The thing is, I burden myself with negative thoughts and that makes me feel
as if
I hurt. If only I could change my way of thinking … but maybe I’m a hopeless case. Still, that’s just the way one mustn’t think. You see, I can’t stop myself from doing myself down, and then I criticise myself for that as well.’

Sirpa forces another small burst of laughter and rolls her eyes.

Vanessa’s heart goes out to her.

‘So, the fact that you’ve been sitting at a supermarket till for something like thirty years has nothing to do with your neck hurting? Are you supposed to be kind of imagining it?’

‘But Vanessa …’ Sirpa laughs, then looks over her shoulder as if afraid that someone is listening to them. ‘That’s not what she means.’

‘What does she mean?’

‘Well, I would say that she means we should be able to control our own lives … that we’ve the power to shape them …’

‘But we can’t control
everything
, surely?’ Vanessa says. ‘Don’t you agree?’

Sirpa looks anxious.

‘Now, we mustn’t talk about this any more,’ she says. ‘I came here to find some books that might help me. I’ve left the group for people with so-called physical problems. Only for a while, of course. They told me I wasn’t advancing sufficiently. And it’s true, I was dragging the others down. So instead I decided to carry on with the healing work on my own. Hopefully, I’ll impress them, come time. I will think again and think the right way!’

Vanessa doesn’t know what she wants most, to comfort Sirpa or to yell at her to wake up. One thing she knows for sure. She doesn’t want to sell that sort of book to Sirpa.

‘I don’t think we have any books that would suit you.’

‘Perhaps your boss has some ideas?’

‘She is busy right now,’ Vanessa says and points at the sign saying ‘
FUTURE FORETOLD NOW
’.

‘Oh, I see,’ Sirpa says. She seems to hesitate. ‘Nice to see you, Vanessa.’

‘It’s good to see you, too.’

She has so many questions that she would like to ask Sirpa. About Positive Engelsfors. About Helena. And about Wille.

‘Take care,’ she says instead. Sirpa nods and leaves.

Vanessa stares at the shop door. Fury is hissing and bubbling inside her. How can Sirpa allow Helena to brainwash her?

Vanessa almost hopes that magic directs the behaviour of the PE membership. It would be easier to understand. Easier to accept.

She has tried to ask Mona if Helena and Krister belong to her group of ‘special clients’ but Mona won’t tell. She has not even shown Vanessa where her secret stashes are kept. And it isn’t easy to be on the trail of a target with second sight. Mona has even managed to distract Anna-Karin’s fox.

A rattling sound behind Vanessa tells her that the curtain is being pulled back. Svensson emerges with Mona immediately behind. He smiles happily and shakes her hand before holding out a wad of 100-kronor notes.

‘I am very grateful,’ he says. ‘I feel much better now.’

Mona peers at him over the rim of her glasses and offers him her most radiant smile. There are traces of lipstick on her teeth.

‘Take care out there,’ she says.

When Svensson has left, Mona stuffs the notes into a pocket of her snow-washed carpenter’s trousers, then takes her glasses off and puts them into another pocket.

‘He’s going to die quite soon,’ she says and lights a fag.

‘Do you mean it the way you meant it when you said I would die?’ Vanessa asks indifferently.

‘No, I mean it literally,’ Mona says and retrieves the red marble ashtray from under the counter. ‘Poor sod.’

This takes another moment to sink in.

‘But he … he looked so happy. What did you tell him?’

Mona snorts.

‘Nothing. What do you take me for?’

‘But you’ve got to warn him!’

Mona shakes her head and sits down on the tall stool behind the counter.

Vanessa looks out through the window, but Svensson is not in sight.

‘If I run, maybe I can catch up with him,’ she says.

‘Catch up to tell him what? “Excuse me, but Mona forget to say you’re dying”?’

‘But he must be allowed to know!’

‘I can see when clients are fairly close to death, but not the cause,’ Mona says and meets Vanessa’s eyes seriously. ‘Death is hovering above him, but can take the shape of a malignant tumour or an axe murderer or whatever. I don’t know when. Mostly within the first six months. It seems the max level for how long death needs when it’s got somebody in the crosshairs.’

The smoke from her cigarette rises like a pillar to the ceiling.

‘Once, when I was young and silly, I made the mistake of telling a client that he was going to die soon. What good did it do him? The anguish ruined what was left of his life. And then he slipped in the shower and died anyway.’

‘But the future isn’t predetermined!’ Vanessa exclaims. ‘It can be changed.’

‘Oh yes, if you know what to change,’ Mona snaps. ‘Believe me, sweetheart, I don’t like all this either.’

‘What do you tell them?’

‘Three things. First, enjoy your life. Second, look after yourself and watch out in traffic. Then I can at least hope they will have that health check, or spot that car with enough seconds to spare.’

She stubs out her cigarette.

‘And what’s the third thing?’ Vanessa asks.

‘That they are to come back after half a year. And I promise the session will be free.’

The recorded wind-chimes tinkle gently.

‘Do they? Come back?’

Mona’s silence is a sufficient answer.

‘They could’ve moved away, of course,’ Vanessa says. ‘Or forgotten.’

‘Let’s say that,’ Mona says and lights another cigarette. ‘Have you finished the dusting? I have to close earlier today.’

‘Suits me.’

Mona vanishes behind the curtain again and Vanessa walks to the door and turns the sign round from ‘
OPEN
’ to ‘
CLOSED
’.

She thinks about her own future and the future of the Chosen Ones and of the whole world.

How much is already written.

And, perhaps, how little that can be changed.

Alexander sits still for a long time and just looks at Anna-Karin.

She feels a solitary drop of sweat trickle down her back, all the way to the elastic of her knickers. She leans back in the soft leather armchair.

Behind her, Viktor is scribbling energetically in his notebook and Anna-Karin wonders what she is giving away by just sitting here.

It’s true what Linnéa said in the dining area. He does do
something
. She can sense the magic flowing from him and fears she might not have the strength to keep her defences up for as long as it takes. That’s probably why the interrogations go on for hours.

She doesn’t trust herself at all. She is aware of a strong temptation to allow herself to capitulate, admit everything, say anything to get out of here as soon as possible.

When she thinks she can’t bear sitting there for one second longer, Alexander leans forward in his armchair and pours himself a glass of water from a beautiful carafe. He drinks and puts the glass down.

‘For the record, I will begin by asking if you are Anna-Karin Nieminen?’

‘Yes.’

‘This is an interrogation. But it also tests your loyalty to the Council. Is that understood?’

‘Yes.’

‘It is important that you speak the truth,’ Alexander says. ‘Do you intend to do that?’

‘Yes.’

The biggest lie of the lot.

‘When did you discover your magic powers?’

‘Just before the night of the blood-red moon,’ Anna-Karin answers.

‘What happened?’

‘I accidentally made my mother lose her voice. I didn’t intend to at all.’

‘How did you bring this about?’

‘I wished that she would stop talking. It was only a thought, sort of, but really, really strong … I wanted her to shut up. And then … she did.’

‘I understand,’ Alexander says. Viktor’s pencil scratches away. ‘And when was the first time you used your powers deliberately?’

‘We had just held a silent minute for Elias in school. I became angry with a certain person … so I made him do something.’

‘What did you make him do?’

She hesitates. But this had happened before Adriana told them about the laws of the Council. She doesn’t need to lie about what she did, but dislikes talking about it.

‘I made Erik Forslund pee himself in front of everyone. It actually wasn’t … I didn’t know that he would really do it. Or maybe I did know, in a way. It was all so new.’

Alexander’s face is expressionless, but she hears Viktor trying to hold back a laugh.

‘I understand,’ Alexander says and sends Viktor a warning glance.

‘No, I don’t think you do,’ Anna-Karin says before she can
stop herself. ‘You don’t understand what it was like, how it felt.’

Alexander raises his hand to silence her. It works. She shuts her mouth and swallows nervously.

‘You are right,’ he says. ‘I don’t understand everything. That is precisely why we conduct these interrogations. I ask questions and you answer them. I don’t want any interruptions. And we will stick to the facts throughout. Is that clear?’

She nods.

Alexander continues his questioning. He wants the names of everyone she’s used magic on at school, though that is almost impossible. Not only are there so many of them, but she is also unsure about where the borderline goes. She didn’t consciously set about enticing everyone. Many were drawn to her when they realised how popular she had become.

Every answer she gives leads on to new questions. It seems to her that everything she says sounds wrong, piles on the guilt.

She feels tiredness creeping into her mind. At one point, a sudden flash in front of her eyes is followed by a view from the outside of the manor house and she understands that the fox is out there somewhere and offering to help her think of something else for a while. But she doesn’t dare to go with it.

‘Did you continue to practise magic at school after Adriana Lopez had drawn the Laws of the Council to your attention?’ Alexander asks.

She cowers inside. It is such an enormous lie.

‘No.’

Alexander exchanges a glance with Viktor, then looks coldly at her.

‘You did not carry on breaking the rules laid down by the Council?’

She shakes her head.

‘Yes or no?’

‘No.’

‘As I have understood it, other members of the group of Chosen Ones tried to make you stop,’ Alexander says.

Anna-Karin looks up.

‘But that was before we were told about the rules.’

Alexander smiles for the first time. As if Anna-Karin has just given herself away. Not only of being guilty as charged, but also ridiculously naive.

She has no illusions about Ida. She will have said anything to save herself during the questioning. But surely none of the others would have grassed on her? Would they?

‘Let us proceed,’ Alexander says. ‘Your family’s farm building went on fire. What happened that night?’

Anna-Karin sticks her hands into the sleeves of her sweater. The magic in the air seems to become stronger all the time.

‘I don’t know,’ she says. ‘I woke in the middle of the night because it was so light outside my window. And I saw the barn was on fire …’

She tries to force out all thoughts about the real events. The voice in her head which said it was easier to die. She had listened to it, believed it.

‘You didn’t notice any magical activity?’

‘No.’

‘None at all?’

‘No.’

‘Interesting,’ he says. ‘Our analyses of the site showed unmistakable remains of magic around the barn. In other words, it was a magic fire.’

How much does Alexander know, really? She desperately tries to hide how upset this makes her.

‘Really? I didn’t know.’

‘Carry on. What happened after you had seen the fire?’

She remembers the chaos. The heat and the roar of the fire. The cows panicking.

‘I ran to the barn. My grandfather had already got there trying to rescue the cows.’

‘Yes, your grandfather. He was close to becoming a fatality, isn’t that so?’

She nods.

‘And you have no notion of who started the fire?’ Alexander asks.

‘No. If it was a magic fire, then … there was someone who tried to kill us all last year …’

‘But why should this individual set fire to the barn and not the house where you were sleeping?’

‘I have no idea,’ she says.

She feels as if she’s treading water in a sea of lies. She is almost drowning.

Alexander has taken note. He is quite clearly enjoying himself.

‘Who killed Elias and Rebecka?’ he asks.

The question bowls her over.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Do you think it could have been the same individual who was responsible for the fire?’

‘Perhaps. I don’t know.’

‘Aren’t you keen to know? Don’t you care that your grandfather was badly injured?’