The Midnight Carnival (15 page)

‘Hello,' Delilah said, her brazenness evident again, ‘I've come to play a game.'

Delilah was the decoy, Adie was the striker. She would hold her position, hidden in the shadows, as Delilah played a game of catch that would lead the non-faery closer and closer to the mark. When the moment was right, Adie would snatch a hair and then run like her life depended on it. Which it probably would.

The creature showed no sign of understanding, until Delilah rose into the air and veered back and forth, smiling all the while. It mirrored her at first, hovering above the bank, then grinned widely when Delilah zipped away as it got too close. It began to follow her, clenching its fingers in excitement when Delilah slowed down, letting it nearly catch her. She zipped away again, and the thing somersaulted and clapped in glee. Now it was in the game for real. It could move like nothing Adie had ever seen before and, she suspected, was well able to catch Delilah any time it wanted. But it was
enjoying the game, so it followed, grasped at the small girl's heels as she sped away, twirled and chased after her again.

Adie rose into the air in the shade of a large oak, staying hidden behind the trunk. Twice, Delilah had led the creature in that direction, and Adie had even reached out once, but missed by inches. Across the river, Delilah was going for a third attempt. She skimmed over the water, heading straight for the big oak tree, glancing back to ensure the creature remained in the game. She looped around the trunk, a little higher than Adie, and the creature was finally within reach.

Holding onto a branch Adie lurched forward… and missed. She didn't know how, the creature had been right there. But it had vanished, spun away like a feather in a hurricane. Feeling suddenly uneasy, Adie turned and nearly dropped out of the air in fright.

She and the creature were nose to nose. Its huge, round eyes were watery in the starlight, and its skin was too smooth – no pores, no freckles, no blemishes, just smooth grey skin, like paint poured over glass. It bared its teeth and held her gaze, as if trying to determine what role she played in the game. This was it, there wouldn't be another chance.

Bracing herself for the blow that would follow, Adie reached up and plucked a twig-like hair from its head. It came out slowly, then suddenly, like a weed pulled from soil. Flinching, the creature snatched her by the front of her jumper and soared into the air. The speed was unbearable.
Adie's teeth clenched and pain groaned in her chest. She couldn't see; the wind was like a million needles jabbing at her eyes. When they finally slowed, she realised they were higher than she'd ever been before. She couldn't make out the town below, there were just specs of light and dark bits and darker bits and, worst of all, she couldn't breathe. There was no air, at least not enough to fill her lungs. She gasped and gasped while the creature held fast to her jumper and stared with its saucer-like eyes.

Then they were plummeting. Adie wanted to be sick but she wasn't able. It was as if the entire atmosphere was pressing on her from all sides, squashing her into a bullet shape that made their descent even faster. She blacked out for a second but a sudden jerk on her top brought her round and told her she was about to be thrown. They were near the ground when she came to, over the football pitch. She knew she wouldn't survive the fall.

There is nothing like the fear of death to focus your mind and, in that fraction of a second, time slowed to a crawl. Evening dew had settled on the pitch and, in her heightened state of terror, Adie could feel every drop. She raised them all at once, every single bit of water. Her mind reached out and grabbed puddles, rainwater from windows, from leaves nearby, from the roof of the gym. Then the creature let go and Adie fell through the air like an arrow.

She pierced the first circle of water and already she could
feel the drag on her speed. The second circle was smaller, but she had more than enough room to get through. She sailed through the third, fourth and fifth; she was slowing, but the ground was still moving towards her at a horrible pace. The sixth circle she just about fit through, and the seventh was more like being hit with a bucket of water. She clasped her head in her hands, her fist still clenched around that twig-like hair, and curled up as tightly as possible.

The impact was dreadful. It started at her side and reverberated through every bone in her body. She was slammed into a star-shape, her head no longer protected, rolling awkwardly and painfully across the field. Her joints stung as they were twisted into unnatural positions and her skin smarted with deep grazes and bruises that erupted almost immediately.

When it finally stopped she lay still, thankful for the coolness of the grass that did little to ease the pain but made her feel finally safe on solid ground. It was some time before Delilah found her, and Adie remained still until her friend's voice forced her to move.

As far as they could tell, there was nothing broken, but Delilah began applying generous blobs of Choki balm from both their stashes. When Adie shakily got to her feet they searched the sodden grass, and found the little twig hair that had caused all that pain.

The new plan was simple. Grace would mind-hop aboard the carnival's alligator, and try to listen in on Drake and the doctor in the hope they would reveal what they had done with the straw doll.

Grace fought to keep her nerves under control. Mind-hopping was still brand new to her, and staring intently at the alligator gave her the willies. The reptile slid comfortably over her feet and she shuddered. But the tension seemed to help the spell. When she finally released her shoulders she hopped aboard the alligator's mind with only a hint of the piercing pain she had felt with the caterpillar.

I'm getting better
, she thought.

‘Ooh hoo hoo,' Una chuckled, waving her hand close to the alligator's face.

He snapped at her fingers.

‘Oh God,' she said, jumping back. ‘I forgot you're just piggybacking. The alligator's still the alligator.'

She said the last bit very loud, as if making sure Grace could hear her through the thick skin. She needn't have bothered. Grace could hear everything.

She had seen the animal slither over the ground with some speed before, but right now it was moving slowly as if taking a stroll. It circled the group and Grace had the uneasy experience of seeing herself, expressionless and standing stock still, like a mannequin.

‘Don't worry,' Rachel said, patting Grace's body on the
back as the alligator ambled off. ‘We'll take good care of you.'

They weren't entirely true to their word. When Grace returned to her body after an unsuccessful piggyback ride around the carnival, she was sporting an eye-patch and a moustache, both drawn in black marker.

‘Una!'

‘Ah, I couldn't help it. You were standing there all lifeless, waiting to be drawn on. Besides, you were gone for so long we were bound to get bored.'

‘Did you overhear anything between the doctor and Drake?' Rachel asked.

‘No,' Grace snapped, licking a tissue and scrubbing her face. ‘The alligator didn't go anywhere near them. It was the stalls mostly, and the main tent. We'll have to try again.'

Grace mind-hopped a few more times that night, but it wasn't until the following evening that the alligator finally moseyed its way to the doctor's trailer. The reptile scuttled after Drake when he passed in front of it, and Grace had the impression it liked the green-skinned boy. The alligator followed him for some time, around the dining tent, to Agata's trailer, to Drake's performance tent where he set up for the following day's show. After a while Grace was beginning to lose her grip on the alligator's mind, but she clung on for dear life as she watched Drake make his way furtively to the trailer that sat at the very back of the park, away from all the others. When he went inside, the alligator slipped beneath
the trailer's wheels as if to wait for him.

At first Grace could hear only indistinct mumbling through the trailer floor, but when the alligator adjusted his position, resting his head against the wheel frame, the mumbling became hollow but much clearer.

‘… that little brat, Justine.'

‘I'll take care of Justine.'

‘You haven't got it in you, lizard boy. You talk tough, but you're as soft and green as your cracked skin.'

‘But not you,' Drake snarled.

‘One man's heaven is another man's hell, lizard boy, and this life is my hell.' There was a sound like the doctor sucking in air through his teeth. ‘If only to break this tedious existence, this endless charade, I'd gladly go out in a fiery blaze, you can count on that. I will be ruthless because I have nothing left to lose.'

‘I can be ruthless, just–'

‘I tire of this whimpering. The whole plan hinges on the doll, and it is–'

SNAP!

Grace couldn't believe it. She had been straining so hard to hear every word that she hadn't noticed her grasp on the alligator's mind failing. At the crucial moment the connection broke, like an overstretched elastic band, and her mind was flung back through the park, past the stalls and tents and trailers, and into her body with such terrific force that she
toppled over.

‘Woah,' Una said, rushing to her rescue. ‘Are you alright? That was an epic return.'

Out of breath, Grace sat cross-legged on the grass for a few moments.

‘Did you get near them this time?' said Rachel.

Grace nodded.

‘Great!' said Una. ‘So, what's the story? Where's the doll?'

‘I got snapped back before I could hear where they'd hidden it,' Grace said, still getting her breath back. ‘But they were talking about…'

‘About what?' Rachel asked.

Grace shook her head.

‘Nothing good.' She climbed to her feet. ‘Come on, we should get home. It's late.'

She was crestfallen. Some part of her had held on to the notion that Drake was an innocent, that he was unaware of or had misunderstood whatever devious plan the doctor had made.

I'll take care of Justine. I can be ruthless.

Grace thought of the gentle ballerina, and the casually brutal way Drake had spoken. There was nothing innocent in those words.

14

Black Worm

Delilah upended her rucksack and emptied the contents onto Adie’s bed. She seemed excited.

‘Will this work?’ asked Adie.

Delilah shrugged.

‘We don’t know until we try.’

Adie was hoping for something more concrete. Delilah believed she had found a way to single out the clear line from the creature’s coloured strands they had seen through the magnesia stone.

‘It’s something they all have in common, all these entities,’ said Delilah as she laid out the ingredients and tools in order on Adie’s bed. ‘It binds them together. So, it could be a spell or a body or an object. But if we can grab that clear line, it might be like grabbing all of them. Then we might be able
to banish it back where it came from.’

‘But if we grab it,’ Adie said, ‘might we break it? If it’s holding them together like string around a bunch of flowers, what if we snap it? Wouldn’t all those entities be loose on their own?’

Delilah’s gaze drifted to the ceiling for a moment.

‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘I don’t think so. We’re not physically grabbing hold of it, remember. It’s more like a spiritual movement. We’re just displacing its essence for a minute.’

It all sounded a bit vague, and Adie had the impression that Delilah was enjoying their branching out on their own, researching and casting spells, and just wanted to try something new. But Adie wouldn’t complain. She was desperate to try anything, and Delilah seemed sure enough for the both of them.

‘Want any snacks, girls?’ Adie’s mum popped her head around the door. ‘I’ve got some mini-brownies and some chilli peanuts. Very moreish.’

‘Mum!’ Adie said as Delilah flung the rucksack over the ingredients on the bed. ‘You’re supposed to knock.’

‘Oh, deary me,’ her mum said with that over-the-top jolliness that drove Adie mad.

Mrs McMahon shut the door, knocked rhythmically from the outside, then popped her head around once more, grinning widely.

‘Just me again! Will you have some snacks? Go on, something 
sweet. Delilah, can I tempt you?’

‘No thanks, Mrs McMahon.’

‘Call me Anne, love.’

‘Anne. No thanks, I’m not hungry.’

‘Adie,’ her mother went on, ‘are you rumbly in your tumbly?’

‘No! Mum, go away, we’re working on something for school.’

‘Ooh, secret project. Not going to blow up the house with any chemistry stuff, I hope?’

‘Mum!’ Adie said, exasperated.

‘I’m going, I’m going.’ Mrs McMahon playfully rolled her eyes. ‘Snacks are in the kitchen if you get hungry.’

‘Okay!’

Her mother finally left and Adie turned the key in the lock to avoid any more interruptions.

‘Sorry,’ she said.

‘That’s okay,’ Delilah said. ‘Your mum’s lovely.’

‘When she isn’t driving me mental. Have we got everything?’

‘Pretty much. All we need is a candle. Something thick that won’t fall over easily.’

Adie crossed to the cupboard above her desk and opened the double doors. The shelves inside were packed with candles of all shapes and sizes, all unused. Some were rainbow-coloured and sparkly, some were scented and short. Adie
never burned any of them, but she always asked for new ones every birthday and Christmas. The vanilla ones were her favourite.

‘Pick one,’ she said.

‘Which one don’t you mind lighting?’ Delilah asked.

Adie smiled and picked a plain white church candle, unscented.

With the lamps switched off, the only light in the room was the flickering flame of the candle. Three bowls surrounded it on the carpet. Some brown, herby mush that Delilah had warmed in one bowl smelled slightly rotten. The dish nearest Adie was filled to the brim with grey powder – crushed obsidian, Delilah had said – and the final bowl had just a few crumbs of stale bread and the creature’s twig-like hair. The bread was meant to be some special kind of flatbread from the Middle East, but Delilah thought a bit of pitta would work fine.

‘I thought you said the spell was in Arabic,’ Adie said, glancing at the English verse scribbled on the page on the floor.

‘I translated it online and rewrote it a bit. It’ll still work,’ Delilah replied.

When the bowls were pushed into a perfect equilateral triangle, Adie felt a ripple over the bare skin of her arms. It could have been a cool gust of air, but the window was
closed. Delilah held both hands over the candle and recited the verse.

‘One that binds these broken pieces,

Keeps a hold that ne’er decreases,

Silent, secret, shy and hidden,

Never more, your form is bidden.’

They waited; Adie sitting cross-legged on the floor, and Delilah with her arms held out. They looked at each other as the minutes dragged on and on.

‘My arms are getting sore,’ said Delilah.

‘Then put them down. It didn’t work.’

Delilah sat back on her heels and huffed.

‘I don’t know why. I spent ages picking the leaves off that tiny Little Pyramid plant. Do you know you have to add them individually? And they’re minuscule. And we had the obsidian ground really fine and everything.’

‘Maybe we shouldn’t have used pitta bread.’

Delilah looked despondent and didn’t reply.

They cleared up the remains of their spell, emptying the brown gunk and the grey powder into the wastepaper basket in the bathroom. Adie covered it with tissue and hoped no-one would notice the smell.

‘I’ll keep looking,’ Delilah said at the front door. ‘There’s got be another spell, something similar. I haven’t looked through Vera’s South American textbooks yet. We’ll find something.’

Adie nodded, but couldn’t bring herself to say anything in return. She watched Delilah jog across the street in the dark.

‘Your friend’s not staying for dinner?’

Adie jumped. Her mother was right behind her.

‘No, she had to get home.’

‘Never mind, my sweet.’

My sweet?
Adie turned to give her mum a sarcastic look, but her mother looked down at her with a smile, not a grin, fixed and perfect. The smile didn’t reach her eyes, which were wide and round. And, as Adie watched, something black wriggled across her mother’s eyeballs, and disappeared.

‘Time for dinner, my sweet.’

Adie chewed on the piece of beef in her mouth. She couldn’t swallow it. It just got drier and more stringy as she chomped and chomped and tried desperately not to stare at her mother. She drank a big gulp of water, hoping that would help. The meat stuck in her throat momentarily, and she nearly leapt from her seat in panic.

‘And the thing is,’ her father was telling another boring work story, ‘you mix a third colour in there and you’re bound to get brown. I tried to explain it to her, I said, “you add another colour in there, you’ll always end up with brown. That’s the thing with mixing paints.” I mean, I’d given her the colour swatches. I said to her, “what more can I do?”’

‘Mmm hmm,’ his wife replied.

Adie could feel her mother’s gaze on her. That fixed smile; that polite response to her dad’s endless chatter.

‘Of course, she could’ve just mixed a sample. But, oh no, she had to go dump the whole lot in a great big basin. I said to her, I said, “we can’t unmix them now.” Do you know what I mean? That’s just gone to waste.’

‘Mmm hmm.’

Adie’s brothers were oblivious. They fought over a set of trump cards – some superhero or other – snapping them off each other, and lying about which cards had come from which packet. Niall had started at St John’s that year. Adie had hoped he would suddenly mature now he was in secondary school, but no such luck.

‘Can I go to my room?’ Adie said. ‘I’m finished.’

‘You’ve barely eaten a thing, my sweet.’

Adie had to glance up at those blank eyes, that quick slither of black.

‘I’m not hungry. I don’t feel well.’

‘You don’t want some of my lovely apple crumble?’ her dad said. ‘Podge made the topping, you know.’

‘I made the topping,’ said Padraic, grinning.

‘No, thanks. I’ll try some later.’

‘Never mind, my sweet.’

It was her dad that said it, and when she looked him in the face, he wasn’t her dad. For just a moment, his eyes went
wide, there was a flash of black, and then he was back to normal.

‘We could take some to school, sister,’ said Niall.

She couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped her lips. Niall’s innocent, freckled face seemed too old, too wicked.

‘
Sister
,’ Padraic sneered. ‘You’re so lame, Niall.’

Then it was Padraic, then Niall again, then her dad. Like a maggot wriggling through rotten fruit, it moved around the dinner table, through her family, always fixing its gaze on her.

‘Adie, are you alright pet?’ her mum asked.

Before Adie could reply, the thing slunk back to her mother once more; the whites of her eyes marred by that tell-tale flick of a black tail.

‘Perhaps you should go to bed early, my sweet. Sleep well.’

Adie stumbled off her chair, her hand to her mouth.

She didn’t think she’d ever sleep again.

‘Una, come on. Jenny will get ticked off if we’re late.’

Una took her earphones out and caught up with Grace on the road up to the school.

‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘I was listening to some Heart. Trying to pump myself up for the crime we’re about to commit.’

‘We’re not committing any crime, Una.’

‘Are Ms Lemon and Mrs Quinlan aware that you’re planning to teach Jenny everything that we learn in magic class?’

‘No.’

‘And Ms Lemon has expressly forbidded…ed it?’

‘Forbidden. Yes, sort of.’

‘It’s not like you to break the rules, Grace.’

‘Yeah, well, when the adults aren’t playing fair I think we’ve a responsibility to break a few rules.’

‘Ooh,’ Una squealed, patting her on the back, ‘get a load of Ms Rebellion.’

Grace tried to scowl, but it came out more like a smile.

They turned left before the school and took the lane that led past the gym to the football pitch. Jenny stood at the halfway point with her arms folded.

‘Let’s get this show on the road,’ she yelled at them.