Fire (47 page)

‘Ida, what about her? Where is Ida?’ Vanessa says. ‘Perhaps she can—’

‘Her mobile’s off,’ Minoo interrupts. ‘We’ve tried to get hold of her, but—’

‘Try her again!’

‘No point,’ Minoo says but makes the call anyway. She puts her mobile down almost at once. ‘I just get her voicemail.’

Vanessa shuts her eyes. Changes her mind’s setting until she can sense the energies of the others. It works well. She registers Anna-Karin and Minoo clearly, but she can’t find any trace of Linnéa in the night that surrounds them.

Among them all, Linnéa was the one she found most easily during their training sessions.

If she can’t register her, then Linnéa is nowhere near.

Or else, only her body remains.

Vanessa opens her eyes. She attempts to force the fantasies out of her mind, images of Linnéa’s pale face, her skin tinged with blue, her black hair waving in currents deep below the surface.

She must be strong. For Linnéa’s sake. As long as there is a chance left she must not allow herself to break down.

If Linnéa has managed to haul herself out of the canal, she will be soaked and frozen. They have to find her. Find her
now
.

Vanessa looks towards the bridge. Nicke is not in sight. But close by the police car, a dark-haired, uniformed woman is standing guard. Paula.

‘What do they know?’ Vanessa asks. ‘Have you talked to them?’

‘No, we can’t really tell them that we know because a fox saw it,’ Minoo says. ‘Anna-Karin made an anonymous call. Just named Linnéa and told them that she was forced to jump in. And that it was Erik and Robin who … who made her.’

Vanessa almost vomits at the sound of their names.

‘I want to kill them,’ she says bleakly. ‘I
will
kill them.’

Minoo doesn’t reply. She seems to hesitate, just for a moment. Then she puts her arms around Vanessa.

Vanessa reacts instantly. She sobs. The desire to let it all pour out is almost irresistible and she twists herself free.

‘I mustn’t,’ she says. ‘I mustn’t … you see, it feels as if Linnéa really is dead … if I let go.’

She falls silent.

‘I understand,’ Minoo says.

Vanessa checks the police car again.

‘Wait here,’ she says and runs off before the others have time to say anything.

Paula catches sight of her, but doesn’t seem to know who she is.

‘Have you found her?’ Vanessa asks.

‘Was it you who raised the alarm?’

‘No. I was just told … a girl had ended up in the canal. Is there any chance that she …?’

Vanessa can’t formulate the rest of her question.

‘We’re waiting for the divers. The fire brigade is sending a team, but it will be some time before it gets here,’ Paula says. ‘And we’re looking for her on land as well. Hopefully she’s managed to get up on the bank somewhere. We haven’t given up hope.’

But Paula’s tone of voice belies her words. And Vanessa looks down at the canal. On the black, cold water far down there.

She wants to scream. Scream until this nightmare has been ripped apart and she is back in reality, a reality which encompasses a living Linnéa, safe and sound.

Because that’s what it is, right? It has to be a nightmare. Linnéa is fine, she must be. She
must
.

After all they have been through together, it simply can’t be
Erik Forslund
and
Robin Zetterqvist
who …

Vanessa walks away. Concentrates on counting her steps, one at a time, so she won’t collapse.

‘What did they say?’ Minoo asks when she is back with them.

Vanessa can’t reply. That scream is growing stronger inside her, tries to force its way up through her throat.

Her mobile rings inside her jacket pocket. She pulls it out.

Unknown number
.

‘Hello?’ Vanessa says.

Time stretches into an eternal instant.

‘It’s me,’ Linnéa says.

Vanessa can’t utter a word.

‘Hello? Vanessa?’

‘Where are you?’ she manages to make herself say at last.

‘I’ve just come back home.’

Vanessa can’t hold her tears back now.

‘I thought you …’ she sobs. ‘I thought you …’

Minoo tugs at her jacket.

‘Is it her?’ she whispers and Vanessa nods.

‘How do you …’ Linnéa begins to say.

‘Anna-Karin’s fox saw what happened,’ Vanessa says. ‘Everyone is mobilised now, they’re looking for you. I’m so unbelievably hugely glad you’re alive. I …’ She bursts into tears again, crying so hard she has to crouch. ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’

‘Yes, I am,’ Linnéa says and her voice sounds shaky. ‘I’m
fine. Vanessa … Forgive me. I didn’t know that you knew, that anyone knew. I should’ve phoned straight away, but …’

Vanessa can’t talk any more, she is crying too much. She hands the phone to Minoo, who carries on speaking with Linnéa.

Linnéa is alive. She is alive.

Linnéa hands Viktor his mobile and walks ahead of him into her flat.

First, the hall, where broken glass crunches under her feet, then the living room. She looks around.

The torn-down images rustle in the draught from the broken windows. The cross that Elias gave her is broken in two and the black china panther has ended up on the floor with its head cracked. She walks into the bedroom. The mattress has been tipped on to the floor, her clothes have been torn out of the wardrobe and scattered everywhere. Someone must have stamped on the laptop that was a gift from Ulf and Tina. The sewing machine has been opened up and systematically dismantled. And the contents of her memory boxes are spread all over the floor. Pictures, letters, mementos. Her entire past has been turned inside out. Rummaged in. Torn. Ruined.

But she is alive.

As she was sinking through the black water, something happened.

At first, with spasms in arms and legs, she was swept along by the currents below the surface. Her body struggled to survive and the breathing reflex grew so strong that it would soon open her mouth and pull water into her lungs.

But instead something new awoke inside her.

Linnéa had tried to influence water before, to make it
freeze or evaporate. It never worked. But down there in the canal, the energy started to stream out from her body and form a protective, warming shell around her. Like a kind of magic wetsuit. Suddenly, she was able to kick out with her legs. Her arms made breaststrokes, she seemed to be sucked upwards, as if she was buoyant like a cork, made not to sink.

When she broke through the surface and inhaled the cold night air, endorphins poured into her circulation. Then the cold settled over her face like a mask of ice.

Somehow, she got up on the bank. Coughed until she threw up. Every breath felt like icy needles piercing her lungs.

She crawled up the steep slope, her water-filled, heavy boots slipping on the wet mud and her stiff, cold fingers clawing to find purchase. And then, finally, she collapsed in a heap on the tarmac footpath.

It was Viktor’s thought that returned her to consciousness.

Linnéa? What has happened?

Linnéa opened her eyes and couldn’t make sense of the world as she saw it. She was lying on her side and her field of vision included only tarmac and a pair of legs in dark trousers, seen from a completely wrong angle.

Viktor bent over her, wrapped her in his coat and took her ice-cold hands in his. She could feel his magic streaming into her. It turned the water in her clothes and hair into vapour that rose around them. She was drying so fast she could watch it happen.

Come along.

He helped her up and half dragged, half carried her to his car which was parked in front of the manor house. She sank into the passenger seat, he shut the doors and turned the heater setting into the widest red band on the scale.

Linnéa pulled his coat closer around her. Slowly, her body relaxed and with relaxation came a deeply soothing tiredness.

What happened?
Viktor asked inside her head.

They forced me to jump in
, she replied, amazed at how easy it was to communicate like this.

Forced you? Who were they?

‘Erik Forslund. Robin Zetterqvist.’

She almost slurred. Watched as Viktor pulled out his mobile. Then she sat up and made herself come awake.

‘Don’t call the police,’ she said.

‘Of course we must.’

‘I can promise you, here and now, these guys will have alibis. I heard their thoughts. Erik would never have risked doing it if he hadn’t made sure that he wouldn’t get caught. In the end, it will be my word against theirs.’

Viktor looked thoughtfully at her.

‘You must know who the police tend to believe,’ Linnéa went on. ‘Hardly ever people like me, not in this town anyway.’

He put his mobile away.

‘Why did they do it?’

‘They’ve hated me for ever,’ Linnéa said. ‘They hate everyone who’s different. Only, now they have a whole organisation supporting them. I’m quite certain they did what they did because someone had told them to. But the plan probably wasn’t meant to go this far.’

‘Whose idea do you think it was?’

‘I don’t want to discuss that.’

Viktor was drumming with his fingers against the steering wheel.

‘I shall have to ask Alexander if I really can omit calling the police,’ he said. ‘Still, I have a feeling he won’t object. The Council’s official position is, whenever possible, to avoid confrontations with the non-magic community.’

‘So you usually don’t intervene when someone tries to
murder a witch?’ Linnéa asked and managed to stop herself from going on to ask if perhaps it was just the Chosen Ones who didn’t matter one way or the other.

Viktor glanced at her.

‘Wait here while I get you some dry things to wear. Then I’ll drive you back.’

Now, Linnéa stands here, in rolled-up tracksuit bottoms, a much-too-large woolly sweater and a pair of too-tight trainers that belongs to someone she doesn’t know.

Linnéa shuts her eyes. Doesn’t want to see any more of the chaos that surrounds her.

The police are due any minute and Diana will hear all about it tomorrow morning. And Linnéa will be evicted and lose her independence. Has Helena intended this all along? Because it must be her who is behind this.

But Linnéa has no intention of giving in that easily. She opens her eyes again and begins to pick up the empty beer cans that have been thrown about in the room. Her thigh hurts where Erik hit her with the baseball bat. When she changed in the car, she saw the large purplish area spreading.

Erik. Robin.

In the car, she was curiously calm and collected. Now she feels the terror crawling all over her again, tightening her throat with its strong, slippery fingers.

She slowly sinks to the floor. The panic attack is advancing on her, booming in her head, making the room revolve, making her relive the fall. Erik wanted to break her and he succeeded.

‘Linnéa?’ Viktor says.

She wants to get away from herself, turn herself inside out and crawl out of her skin.

Breathe in … Breathe out … Breathe in …

‘Linnéa?’

Viktor is crouching next to her, his hands are gripping her shoulders. She concentrates on him and the panic slowly ebbs from her body. She doesn’t want to lose it while he’s watching.

They mustn’t break me, they mustn’t break me …

She observes Viktor, who looks troubled. Then she realises that her thought must have been projected straight into his head.

‘How are you feeling now?’ he asks.

‘Just, you know … a fit of post-traumatic stress, that’s all.’

Viktor straightens up, takes her hand and helps her up.

‘Is there anything I can do for you now?’

‘No, I’ll fix all this.’

He looks searchingly at her.

‘I trust you’re not planning any kind of vendetta,’ he says.

It hasn’t even occurred to her. Her efforts not to crack up have consumed all her energy. That, and trying to work out how to keep her flat. Now, Linnéa realises that she wants Erik and Robin to pay for what they’ve done, but how to go about it defeats her.

‘That is something the Council cannot sanction,’ Viktor continues. ‘The precise opposite, in fact. Alexander asked me to stress that.’

Linnéa remembers what Minoo told them about the chemistry lesson in the autumn. What Viktor did to Kevin. He took revenge for a trifling annoyance.

‘Of course, you always live as you preach, Viktor. Or do you?’

Viktor avoids her eyes. Prods a broken pottery bowl with the tip of his shoe.

‘Alexander said that the Council will examine the events carefully. And we will not accuse you of using magic, despite the prohibition. After all, you weren’t aware of what you were doing, just driven by the need to survive.’

Linnéa can only look at him.

Viktor bends and picks up the broken bowl. It had fallen on top of a sheet of paper and now Linnéa sees what it is. One of her many drawings of Vanessa. Viktor looks at it for a long while.

‘You have really managed to capture something about her,’ he says.

‘You’d better go now,’ Linnéa says as she takes the drawing from him and puts it in her pocket.

She follows him into the hall, unlocks and opens the door. The lift is slowly coming up.

‘Take care,’ Viktor says.

‘Thanks for all your help.’

Viktor nods and starts walking downstairs.

Linnéa senses Vanessa’s energy vibrating in the air. It is coming closer and closer as the lift creaks upwards. More faintly, in the background, she registers Anna-Karin and Minoo.

The lift door opens.

Vanessa runs to Linnéa, throws her arms around her and hugs her suffocatingly tight. Not that it matters, Linnéa doesn’t ever want to be set free. The coconut scent of Vanessa’s hair is so familiar it makes her heart ache.

If she had drowned, she would never have experienced this moment. If her element hadn’t been activated down there in the water. If Viktor hadn’t found her. All her thoughts beginning with ‘If’ seem totally incomprehensible.

She ought not to be here. From now on, everything that happens is a bonus.