Spellfall (5 page)

With an effort, Natalie shook off her nerves and let Jo strap on the skates. Once they were skating, she felt better. Balancing on the thin lines of wheels wasn’t as difficult as it looked. She soon felt confident enough to let go of her friend’s arm and totter about on her own. The next thing she knew, she was enjoying herself. Spell banks and weird old men faded to the back of her mind as she mastered the rhythm. Her breath came faster and she laughed as the cold air made her cheeks glow. Jo gave her the thumbs up then called Bilbo so she could demonstrate her trick. This consisted of whistling at the dog until he streaked off across the car park, dragging Jo at the end of his lead like a water-skier behind a furry yellow four-legged speed boat. They looked so funny, Natalie got a fit of giggles and had to grab the bottle bank to stay upright. Her friend waved her cap in the air and hollered as she vanished into the fog.

They were gone a long time. While she was waiting, Natalie took off her glasses and wiped them. She’d got her breath back now but the eerie feeling was back as well, twice as strong as before because now she was alone.

“Jo?” she called nervously.

Silence.

This was silly. Bilbo had probably stopped to do his business. He wasn’t a young dog, so it always took him ages and then Jo would have to scoop it up and dispose of it properly. She put her glasses back on and skated carefully round the bins to where they had left their shoes – then grabbed the bottle bank again, her heart in her throat.

A tall figure stood beneath one of the lights, fog dripping from the ends of his black hair, her shoes in one hand and an all-too-familiar bird-headed stick in the other. He gave her a cold smile. “Looking for these? Or maybe you’re looking for your little spider? Care to come with me and find out what I’ve done to him?”

Natalie shook her head. “Go away,” she whispered. “Leave me alone.”

The man smiled again. “Not this time, my little spider-girl. This time you’re coming with me.”

He made a lunge for her, and the air rushed back into her lungs. She screamed.

“Jo-o-o!”

That was all she had time for before strong hands caught her anorak and dragged her backwards away from the bins. On the skates, she was helpless to fight him. She had a vague impression of a blonde woman picking up her shoes, which her captor had dropped when he lunged at her. Then she was slammed against the side of a white van, the stick pressing across her chest.

“Hurry up,” her captor hissed. “Before that hound comes back.”

“I thought you said you could deal with it?” The woman’s voice contained a challenge.

Twisting her head, Natalie caught a glimpse of blue eyes so empty of emotion they made her shiver.

“Only if I have to. I want to leave as few clues as possible. The last thing we need so close to the Opening is the human authorities on our backs.”

The woman gave a peculiar little smile and, just for an instant, a spark lit those empty eyes. “Surely you don’t doubt your power, Hawk?” she said very softly.

They seemed to have forgotten Natalie. She began to sidle along the van, ready to make a break for freedom as soon as they relaxed their guard. But her captor grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “Enough!” he hissed. “Get your things. We’re obviously going to have to do this the hard way.”

He twisted Natalie’s arm behind her, pressing her cheek against the metal, and clamped his other hand over her mouth. It tasted foul, as if he’d been handling paint. She struggled as hard as she could but only succeeded in hurting her shoulder.

The woman went round to the passenger side of the van. When she returned, her eyes were cold and empty again. In her gloved hands she carried a little box, from which she extracted something that glittered in the silver light.

Needle.

Natalie heaved against her captor in fresh panic, kicking backwards with the skates. One connected with his shin and he grunted, his hand slipping from her mouth. She screamed as loudly as she could, and a yellow streak came flying out of the fog, barking madly, lead trailing. “Bilbo!” she shouted in relief.

The woman jumped aside, her eyes on the dog, and knocked into the man she’d called Hawk. The lead caught around his ankle and he stumbled, cursing loudly. “Don’t be so stupid!” he shouted to the woman. “It’s not a magehound, is it?” Bilbo leapt on top of Hawk, snarling and growling, uncharacteristically savage. The bird-headed stick went rattling beneath the van. Suddenly, Natalie was free.

She took off across the car park as fast as she could make the skates go. “Help!” she yelled as she went. “Jo! Anyone! Help!”

Behind her, Bilbo’s barks cut off with a sudden yelp. She heard the pounding of running feet. Natalie skated faster, her breath rasping in her throat, and let out a sob of relief as a small figure materialized in the fog ahead. It was the red-headed boy she’d seen in the supermarket yesterday, but she instantly forgave him everything. Right then, she’d have been glad to see Gaz and his entire gang. She changed direction and raced towards the boy, hoping he was with his parents or someone who could help.

The boy’s eyes went wide as Natalie realized she didn’t know how to stop. She managed to swerve at the last minute but the boy made a wild grab for her anorak and they went down together in a tangled heap of arms, legs, and skates.

“Go!” Natalie gasped, pushing him off. “Get help! Some lunatics are trying to kidnap me, and—”

The boy disentangled himself and backed away, rubbing his elbow. Behind him, two breathless figures ran out of the fog. They pushed the boy out of the way and came at her. He just stood there, staring dumbly.

Natalie’s heart sank. She tried to get to her feet but one of the skates had broken in the fall. Her ankle hurt. Her ribs hurt. Everything hurt. The man knelt beside her, gripped the back of her neck and held her ponytail aside as the woman with the empty eyes crouched next to him and squirted a dribble of yellowish liquid into the fog.

“
Sorry
,” the boy mouthed.

“Hold still,” advised the woman, not unkindly. “It’ll be easier.”

“Just get on with it!” hissed Hawk.

Natalie closed her eyes. She thought she heard Jo calling, faint and far away, but fear had stolen her voice and she couldn’t call back. She felt the prick of a needle beneath her ear. Someone whimpered… and the world slid softly away.

Chapter 4

QUESTIONS

Sunday afternoon, October 25

~~*~~

When the police car drew up outside the Marlins’ house on Sunday afternoon Tim was still in his boxer shorts. He’d just woken from a nightmare in which Gaz’s entire gang were chasing him to shave off his hair. At first he thought the car was part of this. Then he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror and his knees turned weak. None of it was a dream. He was now a full member of the Death Heads and last night he’d broken the law for the first time in his life. How had the police found out so fast?

He thought madly back over his actions of the night before. After the ritual head shaving at midnight, Gaz had stuck a needle through Tim’s ear so he could wear the gang’s skull emblem. It had hurt like hell. Then they had all cycled down town, where Tim’s first gang dare had been to add his name to the graffiti round the back of the public toilets. His heart had hammered the whole time. The five minutes it took to spray those three letters had been the longest minutes of his life, but he’d done it. Gaz, Dave and Mike had slapped him on the back and told him what he suspected were greatly exaggerated stories of their own dares. Then Pizzaface (who had run out of his emergency supply of crisps) and Little Paulie (who was only tolerated in the gang because he happened to be Dave’s brother) had complained they were hungry. So they’d all gone home.

He tweaked the curtain aside to see better. A policewoman got out of the car and walked slowly up the path, looking at the house. The doorbell rang and after a moment she was let in. No one stormed upstairs. No one kicked down Tim’s door.

His heart slowed. He dragged on his jeans and T-shirt and waited, chewing his nails, but still no one came. Unable to bear the suspense any longer, he quietly opened his bedroom door. Muffled voices came from the lounge, then the sound of his mother crying. Tim frowned. As far as he knew, she hadn’t seen his hair yet, so that couldn’t be it. Barefoot, he crept downstairs and put an ear to the wall. On the other side, someone was pacing up and down.

“...and I’m
telling
you my daughter wouldn’t be so stupid!”

Mr Marlins.

“Even if she’d done something wrong, which I assure you she hasn’t, she wouldn’t run away from trouble. Besides, I’ve told her never to go off on her own. She knows the dangers. She wouldn’t have left her friend.”

Nat!

Tim felt a pang of guilt as he remembered how he’d locked her out this morning. But surely the little idiot had enough sense to ring the bell?

He listened carefully. There was a pause, as if the policewoman didn’t quite believe Mr Marlins. Tim imagined stale beer-breath wafting her way every time his stepfather marched past and he could understand her scepticism. “You say Natalie went to bed early last night because she wasn’t feeling well?” the policewoman asked.

A sniff from Julie. “That’s what she told me. She’d got wet in the morning and she was very quiet after tea. I thought she was coming down with a cold.”

“And what time was that, exactly?”

“About half-past eight, I suppose.”

“And neither of you saw her after that?”

“No.”

“And what about your son, Mrs Marlins? Ah, Timothy Lockley, isn’t it?”

Tim froze. He eyed the open door of his bedroom, then the hall. Did he have time to sneak out the back way?

“I don’t think he’ll be able to tell you anything. He’d gone out by then.”

“Where’s your son now?”

“Still asleep, I think. He lies in late when he hasn’t got to get up for school.”

“You think?” The policewoman sounded surprised.

“Well, he’s at that age – you know, doesn’t like to be disturbed.”

“Nevertheless, I’m afraid I have to ask you to disturb him, Mrs Marlins. I need to talk to him as well. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

Tim beat a quick retreat to his room. He missed what was said next but as he closed his door and put his back against it, he could hear raised voices below. Hesitant feet came up the stairs. His mother’s gentle knock made him jump, even though he’d been expecting it.

“Timothy? You in there, love?” There was a catch in her voice. “The police are here. They want to ask you a few questions.”

Tim steeled himself and opened the door.

His mother’s eyes were red. She talked fast, as she always did when she was upset and trying to hide it. “Apparently Natalie went out early with Joanne this morning to walk the Carters’ dog, and something happened. Joanne came back in a right state, going on about it all being her fault. From what I can gather, they went skating in the supermarket car park. It was foggy, the dog got loose and Joanne lost them both. I expect Natalie’s off playing with Bilbo and she’s forgotten the time. You know how scatterbrained she gets when she sees a dog, but we can’t be too careful these days and the police—
Timothy!”
Her hands flew to her mouth as her mind registered what she was seeing. “What have you done to your hair?”

“Just shaved it,” Tim mumbled. It wasn’t having quite the effect he’d planned. He’d never intended to upset his mother – just get Mr Marlins to notice him for once.

“And your
ear!
Who did it? Oh no! Let me see. I hope you didn’t use a dirty needle, it looks infected to me.”

“It’s fine.” He jerked away. Actually his ear was throbbing like a bass guitar but he wasn’t about to admit it. Gaz had rinsed the needle in a puddle first – did that count as clean? “Why do the police want to see me?” he asked, focusing on his more immediate problem.

His mother’s hands were still over her mouth. For a second, she looked as if she might cry. Then she took a deep breath and took her hands away. “I expect they want to ask you about Nat. Your father’ll have a fit,” she added quietly.

“He’s
not
my
father
,” Tim said through gritted teeth. “It’s not up to him what I do.”

“Timothy! Not that again, not today. Please.”

Immediately, Tim felt bad. He rummaged under his bed and found an old pair of trainers he used for slopping around the house, then ran his hands over his smooth skull. “At least you won’t have to nag me to comb it now,” he said. This attempt to lighten the atmosphere didn’t work. His mother’s face twisted as she shepherded him downstairs, making Tim glad of the distraction the police were providing. Now he knew it was Nat they were interested in and not him, he felt a bit more confident.

Mrs Marlins had shut the lounge door when she’d come to get him. Tim opened it without thinking to knock and walked into the middle of an argument.

“Are you suggesting I don’t know my own daughter?” Mr Marlins was shouting as he paced by the French windows. His clothes were crumpled, his hair and beard a mess. He’d slept in his car again.