Skinned (5 page)

‘I didn't even let Helen – didn't even ask Callum's own
mother
to share any of this burden with me!' Gran exclaimed. ‘You think that if I wouldn't take that risk with my daughter-in-law, I'd ever take such a risk with someone else's child? You don't know me well, but you know me better than that, young lady!'

‘Aren't you worried about the idea of Callum facing the Shadowing all alone?' Melissa fired back at her. Callum was impressed at Melissa's perseverance – and her stretching of the truth. ‘How can helping me with some magic be more dangerous than that?' Melissa continued. ‘What harm can it do to teach me? At least then
I'll
be protected, if nothing else. Make sure Callum's not having to worry about me not being able to handle myself –?'

‘What
harm
can it do . . .?' Gran repeated almost to herself, shaking her head. Slowly, she began to stack the gardening manuals back in place, out of habit. The cottage consisted of a small sitting room and kitchen downstairs, and two tiny bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. Gran kept everything in strict order, including the books.

‘I'm not trying to treat you like a child, Melissa,' Gran began again quietly. ‘But I just don't believe you understand the risk – how much danger even a small amount of magical knowledge can be, to
yourself
especially.'

She finished stacking the books and climbed down. Callum moved the chair back into its place at the table. In this, at least, he and Gran and even Jacob were united – not one of them thought Melissa should get mixed up in the supernatural any more than was absolutely necessary.

Melissa stood clutching four of the dusty chime child books close to her chest, watching Callum and his grandmother. Her jaw was set determinedly.

‘I'll go online.'

It was a threat.

Callum also knew it was something that neither he nor his grandmother could counter or keep a check on. They didn't have a computer. Callum used the internet at school, of course, and at the library – but he didn't have the money to make constant use of Marlock's only cyber café. He wouldn't be able to keep up with Melissa, or to find out what she was doing.

Gran, who Callum was sure knew pretty much zilch about technology, surprised him with her own objection to Melissa's threat.

‘The internet is inaccurate and unsafe,' Gran said coolly. ‘There's a reason it's called the “web”. It lures you in and ties you up. Even if you're researching a straightforward subject, it's sometimes impossible to untangle the misinformation from the real thing, is it not? Try figuring out the history of the radio, or the date of a Shakespeare play, and you could get ten different answers. If it's a risky source for simple historical facts, imagine what it's like for magic. Don't do it.'

Callum looked from his grandmother to Melissa and back again. They were staring at one another unblinkingly.

‘Mrs Scott, I don't think you can stop me,' Melissa said carefully.

Gran's jaw clenched. Callum found himself holding back a smile at how Gran's disapproval of his own involvement in the Shadowing had been so quickly overtaken by this new problem.

‘Melissa, you can't force this,' he said.

‘I know,' she replied. ‘It's fine. The internet may not be the best resource, but it's all I've got apparently.'

Callum sighed, exasperated. ‘Melissa, you're going to be enough help as it is. Seriously, can't you just –'

‘Bring a notebook,' Gran interjected. Both Callum and Melissa turned to look at her, surprised.

‘Sorry?' Melissa said.

‘Bring a fresh notebook,' Gran repeated. ‘Tomorrow after school. And be prepared to listen to absolutely everything I say, without question.'

Melissa gasped. ‘Thank you a
million
times!' she exclaimed. ‘Look, I know you don't want to do this. I
know you don't trust me to do the right thing, and that makes me even
more
grateful. I won't let you down.'

Gran let out a wry, mirthless laugh and shook her head. ‘I'm not doing this for you. It's for Callum's protection. I can't have him around someone who's been getting information from goodness knows where, trying to use rogue magic. Your best defence is to learn from a
reliable
source. I have no choice but to do it myself.'

Melissa nodded in silence, then looked down to study the cover of one of the chime child books sheepishly. She cleared her throat. ‘OK. Well, if I'm going to be back tomorrow I think I'll wait until then to start reading these too. Uh, thanks again, Mrs Scott.'

Melissa turned to go.

‘See you, Callum.'

In spite of himself, Callum couldn't help but return her triumphant grin as he saw her to the door. As he closed it behind Melissa, Callum sighed. After everything that had happened that evening, he felt suddenly exhausted.

‘I'm going to bed,' he announced. ‘I'll see you in the morning, Gran.'

He started up the narrow spiral stairway.

‘Callum, you don't seem bothered by any of this,' Gran said crossly.

‘I'm bothered by a lot of things,' Callum said wearily, too tired to argue. He paused. ‘Listen, you can trust Melissa, you know. She may be a bit off-the-wall, but she's honest. At least she's not hiding anything.'

‘She's determined, I'll give her that,' Gran said, her hands on her hips, ignoring his dig. ‘But she's going to have to learn to take the danger seriously. Both of you are. You're up against the
Netherworld
.'

Callum nodded and headed up to his room. But he heard Gran still muttering as he reached the top of the stairs.

‘I wish you both knew what you're getting yourselves into . . .'

In the murky darkness of an abandoned warehouse, a man's footsteps echo across the concrete floor. He is the first to arrive but, as leader, he expected to be. He snaps his fingers. The sound bounces around the corrugated metal walls – and a flickering light appears, dancing at his fingertips. The purple stone of the ring the man always wears reflects the light of the flame. He lowers the small fire to a waiting candlewick, and then goes to light the others. Soon, a circle of light surrounds him. A voice behind him causes him to pause, but as he turns, he smiles.

‘Aradia,' he says, greeting the tall, beautiful woman
who has joined him within the circle. Her curtain of red hair glows in the low light.

She stops for a moment, surprised.

‘
Varick
.' She nods respectfully, her voice low, velvety. ‘So, is it only our Craft names we must use from now on?'

‘I think it prudent,' the man replies. ‘Where are the others?'

‘They follow presently,' Aradia replies. As she speaks, three others file in and their coven is complete. Two men – one thin and lanky with close-cropped, white hair; the other shorter and more youthful, his broad shoulders strong. With them is one other woman. The wrinkles in her dark, worn skin are more exaggerated in the shadowy light, but her violet eyes glint with alertness. Varick eyes the group carefully.

‘Brothers and sisters,' he begins, ‘the Shadowing falls on our mortal world once more.'

The other coven members nod silently, their faces expectant. They know there is more to come.

‘Our master awaits us,' Varick continues. ‘For a
century
, he has waited. The Fetch all but completed his
mission to eliminate the chime children, as we had summoned him to do. And now, the moment has finally arrived. This time, the Demon Lord will not await the thirteen moons to make his attempt to break through.
This
time, he has our coven on his side. Mortal and Netherworld are united. If our task is successful . . .' He pauses. ‘
When
we are successful, it will lead to power untold. I trust you are all aware of what we must do?'

‘We are,' they chorus.

Varick smiles slowly. ‘Very well. Then let us prepare . . .'

When the final school bell rang, Callum sprang from his chair and headed to his locker to collect his books. With all that had happened the previous evening, he'd had a terrible night's sleep and an even more distracted day. He was glad to be heading home, even if it would involve a diversion to the churchyard for his next lesson with Jacob and Doom.

The eerie, bitter cold that gripped the country didn't seem to be letting up, and the corridors of Marlock High School were packed with kids muffled in scarves, chattering about the weather. Incredible, Callum thought, how quickly the student population moved
on from one issue to the next. A few weeks ago the Fetch had killed Ed Bolton, one of the school's worst bullies, in broad daylight on a public street outside the school – but now everyone seemed caught up in something as mundane as the unnaturally cold weather.

Callum could see Melissa was waiting for him at the gates to the car park. He was pleased she'd waited – they hadn't had a chance to talk properly since everything that happened the night before. Callum was well liked at school, but he had always tried to keep himself apart from other kids – except when he was doing the sports he loved. He hadn't liked the idea of mixing normal people up in his supernatural troubles. But when he'd started talking to Melissa, Callum had realised how much he was missing hanging out with people his own age.

‘Hey, Callum.'

As he got closer, Callum almost laughed, but managed to stifle it just in time. Melissa was wearing a scarf made of black wool and glossy green-black feathers, bundled up around her neck so that she
looked a bit like a fluffy fledgling blackbird. Melissa might be trustworthy, brave and clever, but she had the most bizarre dress sense of anyone in Marlock High School.

‘How mad was last night?' Melissa said, shaking her head. ‘And now today seems so normal that it feels like a dream. You know what I mean?'

Callum didn't answer. The events of last night had definitely been stressful, but not really that much weirder than the daily parade of ghosts and premonitions he'd lived with all his life. ‘Yeah, it's been a lot to wrap your head around . . .' Callum paused, then blurted, ‘Melissa, why did you start going on about wanting Gran to teach you magic?' He knew it was a little abrupt, but he'd been dying to speak to her about it.

‘Jacob said only those with power can take on the Netherworld,' Melissa pointed out. ‘Lovely Assistant isn't the same thing, is it? I really do want to fight. So I need power. Besides, we need all the help we can get – you're not exactly primed for taking on heaps of Netherworld demons, are you?'

Callum sighed, walking with his head down as usual, trying not to look at the spectres that always haunted the streets of Marlock village. He supposed she had a point.

‘What makes you think my
gran's
the source of all knowledge, anyway?' Callum said. ‘You saw how she was – she's always on the defensive. All she'll teach you are avoidance tactics. I don't think she knows anything really big, it's all just wards, charms, and little spells and stuff.' He glanced up to look at Melissa. ‘But anyway, at least you'll get a chance to crack open the chime child books tonight. Maybe there's something useful in them, something that might even give you a head start, magic-wise.'

‘Oh, yeah, definitely!' Melissa's voice was suddenly injected with enthusiasm and excitement. ‘I'm really looking forward to going through the books properly. I don't think I've ever actually touched anything so old, you know? And it's really
important
, I'm not just going to be reading them because I'm curious. Plus,' she said with a grin, ‘I get to be your teacher, imparting vital chime child knowledge. During our study sessions,
you'll be calling me
Miss Roper
, right?'

Callum laughed. ‘Dream on!'

They had reached the housing estate at the edge of town. Melissa waved at a couple of little kids messing about on the cable pyramid in the play park.

‘Everything seems so
ordinary
, you know?' she said, looking around, her tone serious now.

‘Yeah,' Callum agreed. ‘And they're all so –'

‘– innocent.'

‘It scares me,' Callum confessed. ‘The way no one knows what's going on. You'd think there ought to be a big media panic: LOCK YOUR DOORS AND STAY AT HOME. THE SHADOWING IS UPON US. But life just seems to be going on like nothing's changed.'

‘Well, nothing much has yet,' Melissa said. ‘It's like before the Blitz started, isn't it? All the kids had gas masks and got evacuated but nothing happened.'

‘At least they were ready. These guys don't have a clue,' Callum muttered. ‘And
I'm
the one who's meant to protect them all . . .' He shook his head.

He didn't have a choice; if he had to work twice as
hard, if he had to study twice as much and train for it as well, he'd do it.

‘Maybe you should stay for dinner after your lesson with Gran?' Callum said. ‘I think we should have our first session as soon as possible.' He needed to prioritise, organise his brain, focus on one skill at a time. That was the kind of thing his rugby coach always encouraged the team to do.

‘Yeah,' Melissa replied. ‘I'll ring my mum and ask if it's OK.'

Callum nodded, but he was distracted by a strange figure walking along the road some distance ahead of them, near the start of the woods. The man seemed confused and agitated, shuffling back and forth. Something about him seemed odd . . . threatening. Callum's fingertips started to tingle ominously, and a chill swept him as the man slowly turned around. Callum stifled a gasp.

The figure only had half a face.

A gaping, bloody slash was opened across his head from his right temple diagonally down to the left side of his lower jaw – he had no right eye, no nose, no
upper lip. Whatever had cleaved the guy's face had mangled half his features. The mutilated man stood staring directly at him. Callum froze. He didn't know what to do – something told him this wasn't a situation he wanted to draw attention to . . .