Authors: Sara B. Elfgren & Mats Strandberg
Contents
SOMETHING IS COMING
THE CHOSEN ONES are about to start their second year in senior high school. All summer they have been waiting for the demons’ next move. But the threat comes from another direction, somewhere they could never have foreseen.
It becomes more and more obvious that something is very wrong in Engelsfors. The past is woven together with the present. The living meet the dead. THE CHOSEN ONES are tied even closer together and are once again reminded that magic cannot make you happy or mend broken hearts...
Sara B. Elfgren and Mats Strandberg first met in 2008. They quickly realised that they shared a passion for stories with young adults in the lead roles, and soon the idea to write a book together was born. The story took shape and when the idea came up to make the main characters young girls who also are witches, everything fell into place.
The Circle
, the first part in The Engelsfors Trilogy, was released in the UK in April 2011. Part three,
The Key
, will be published in 2014.
Abba musician Benny Andersson has launched a new production company with his son to adapt
The Circle
into a film.
Sara B. Elfgren
started her career in the film industry as a screenwriter. As a script doctor, she has been involved in several Swedish film and TV-productions such as Arn, Selma and Lasse-Maja’s Detective Bureau. She has a Degree in Film Studies.
Mats Strandberg
is an author and a journalist. He is a regular columnist for Sweden’s biggest evening newspaper
Aftonbladet
and in 2004 the organization Sveriges Tidskrifter (Sweden’s Newspapers and Magazines) awarded him the title Columnist of the Year. Mats has previously released three books, of which the third one,
Half Life
s, was awarded Book of the Year 2009 by QX.
Sunlight floods in through the tall windows and picks out every dirty old stain on the white textured wallpaper. A fan on the floor is slowly turning from side to side. The room is still unbearably hot.
‘How did your summer go?’
Jakob, the shrink, is wearing shorts, and sitting back in the brown leather armchair.
Linnéa can’t resist a little probe into his thoughts. She registers his discomfort at the leather of the chair seat sticking to the backs of his thighs and then his genuine pleasure at seeing her again. She backs off instantly. Feels a bit ashamed.
‘Fine, thank you,’ she replies. It’s been horrible, she thinks.
She focuses on the framed poster behind Jakob. All pastelly geometric shapes. She can’t imagine anything blander and wonders what point Jakob wanted to make by hanging it just there.
‘Has anything special happened that you would like to talk about?’ he asks.
Define ‘special’, Linnéa thinks and glares at the blue triangle that hovers above his shaved skull.
‘Not really.’
Jakob nods and doesn’t say anything more. Ever since she realised that she is a mind-reader, Linnéa has now and then asked herself if he might not have a milder variant of her
power, if he isn’t somehow able to sense what is going on in her head. He always seems to know when to be silent in a way that makes her want to talk. Mostly, she resists, but this time the words bubble up.
‘I’ve had a fight with one of my friends. Several of them, actually.’
Linnéa lets one of her flip-flops dangle. She hates sandals. But when it’s this bloody hot you have no choice.
‘So, what happened?’ Jakob’s tone is neutral.
‘I was keeping something secret. Something the others should have known, but I kept it to myself. And then, when I finally told them they got furious with me because I hadn’t let them in on it earlier. And now they don’t trust me.’
‘Can you tell me the secret?’
‘No.’
Jakob just nods. She wonders what would happen to his professional composure if she told him the truth. He wouldn’t believe her at first, obviously. But she could go on to describe how, before she learned to control her ability better, she sometimes, against her will, picked up what he was thinking. Which is how she knows that he was unfaithful to his wife last autumn. He was sleeping with a colleague. His darkest secret.
Jakob would become anxious. Always ill at ease whenever she was around. Just like the Chosen Ones.
A few days after the end-of-term assembly, they finally revealed their secrets to each other. Minoo told them the whole truth about what happened that night in the school dining area, about the black smoke that no one else could see and that came pouring out of her and Max, who had been blessed by the demons. Anna-Karin described how she had cast a spell over her mother that lasted all of the autumn term, and admitted how far she had gone with Jari. Heavy secrets, but nothing in comparison with what Linnéa had to
confess. That she could read their minds. And that she had been doing it for almost a year. Without saying anything.
Since then, nothing has been the same. They have been meeting regularly all summer to practise their magic skills and, each time, Linnéa has been aware of the others avoiding her eyes. Throughout the summer holidays, Vanessa has hardly said a word to her. When Linnéa thinks about that, she feels as if a super-sharp electric whisk has been thrust through her chest, churning her heart to mush.
‘How did you react when they turned on you?’ Jakob asks.
‘I tried to defend myself. But I understood why they did, of course. I mean … like, if I had been one of them, I would’ve been so fucking angry.’
‘Why didn’t you tell them the truth before?’
‘I knew they’d freak out.’
Once more, that psychologist-style silence. Linnéa stares hard at her feet. The varnish on her toenails is black.
‘Anyway, it felt kind of good, too,’ she went on.
‘What felt good?’
‘It felt like having the upper hand.’
‘It can be tough to let other people come close, truly close to you. There are times when being alone gives one a sense of security.’
Linnéa can’t stop the laughter. It erupts with a snort.
‘What’s so funny?’ Jakob asks.
She looks up and sees his gentle smile. What does he know about being alone? Not alone, as in everyone else is busy tonight, or alone, as in your wife is away at a conference. But utterly, painfully alone, so lonely it’s as if the atoms in your body are pulling away from each other and you’re about to dissolve into one great Nothing. So lonely you have to scream just to hear that you still exist. Alone, as in nobody would care if you disappeared.
Inside Linnéa’s head, the list pops up. It has been there for as long as she can remember. It’s the list headed
Who Would Care if I Died
? Since Elias’s murder, there have been no obvious names left.
Jakob clearly realises that she isn’t going to reply, because he changes the subject.
‘Before the summer holidays, you told me that you had met someone you felt fond of.’
That murderously sharp, fast whisk starts up again.
‘I’m over it,’ she lies. ‘It got too complicated.’
Flipping, flopping, her sandal keeps dangling. She avoids looking at Jakob.
He asks more questions and she answers mechanically, feeding him a small truth here, a large lie there.
There’s so much she can’t tell him. Like: ‘The world is not the way you think it is. It’s full of magic. Engelsfors will be the centre of a battle that’s going to cross the boundaries between the dimensions. Good pitted against evil. I and a handful of other high-school girls are up against the demons. And another thing: I’m a witch. You see, I am chosen to vanquish evil and prevent the apocalypse. Any more questions?’
Besides, there are just as many not-magical secrets that Jakob will never hear about: ‘After Elias’s death, I started sleeping with Jonte. Sure, the same old Jonte, my ex-dealing mate. And, yes, we smoked together, but I’ve stopped now. I won’t ever do it again, promise. I’m responsible enough to have a flat of my own. You and Diana believe me, don’t you?’
Any of that stuff would be a one-way ticket to another institution. Or to new foster parents. Foster parents who wouldn’t be like Ulf and Tina. Those two never tried moulding her into somebody she was not, never tried to play at being a perfect family. They understood that she hadn’t been a child for many, many years – perhaps never. If they hadn’t
got it into their heads to go to Botswana and start a school, she would’ve liked to stay on with them.
‘How do you feel about starting school again?’ Jakob says and Linnéa realises that she has been silent for a long while.
‘No problem.’
‘Do you think a lot about Elias?’
It surprises her sometimes how much it still hurts to hear his name mentioned.
‘Of course I do,’ she snaps, even though she knows that Jakob didn’t intend to get at her. ‘I think of him every day. Especially today.’
‘Why just today?’
Inside Linnéa, the sense of loss beats like a pulse and she has to concentrate on not bursting into tears.
‘It’s his birthday today.’
Jakob nods and looks compassionately at her. Linnéa hates him. She doesn’t want to be one of the saddos who everyone feels sorry for. She’s damaged goods, she knows that, but detests seeing it reflected in other people’s eyes, resents the way they can’t wait to try fitting the broken bits together, get out the superglue and start mending until they think she looks whole.
She probes again and notices that Jakob feels hopeful, believes that he has connected with her and that she is about to open up, tell him more about Elias.
She takes revenge by keeping her mouth shut for the last ten minutes of their session.
I miss you so. It doesn’t pass. The pain feels less bad sometimes, that’s all.
I hate remembering the last time we met, the fight we had. The real reason was simply that I was worried about what was happening to you. Now, I understand what you
were going through. I think so, anyway. You had begun to discover new, inexplicable changes in yourself, just like I had.