The Circle (50 page)

‘Thanks for helping me today,’ Linnéa says.

‘No problem.’

‘Robin and Erik are such fucking arseholes. That was one good thing about Anna-Karin exerting her power over the school –that everyone hated them. I’m sorry they read out that bit from my diary. It wasn’t about you. Well, it was, but I was having a bad day.’

Linnéa speaks quickly, as if she feels she has to apologise but wants to get it over with. Is it even an apology? Minoo feels a painful twinge when she remembers what it said about ‘M’:
She gives me a headache
.

‘Let’s forget about it,’ she says, and wishes it was that simple.

‘Okay. I’m calling because I have to tell you something,’ Linnéa says. ‘I can read the
Book of Patterns
now, too.’

‘Since when?’

‘Just a minute ago. And I’ve found something. I’m sitting here now, looking at it through the Pattern Finder. And now that I’ve found it, I can’t understand why I didn’t see it all along.’

Great, Minoo thinks. Pretty soon that damn book will be transmitting to everybody except me. ‘What’s it say?’

‘It’s hard to explain. I’m not sure I understand it. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. You’re probably the only one who can work out what it means.’

‘I can try.’

‘Okay … It’s about … this thing. I can’t explain it. This thing, whatever it is, is meant for one person. If it’s shared, it won’t work properly.’

Minoo feels the tingling she experiences when she’s close to solving a difficult maths problem. What Linnéa is saying sounds familiar.

‘Go on,’ she says, as she opens the drawer of her bedside table and takes out her notebook.

Linnéa sighs. ‘The problem is that one person will always end up outside this thing. And if that person dies, another person ends up outside it. And then the next. And the next …’

‘Wait,’ Minoo says. She fumbles as she flips back and forth through her notebook.

‘What is it?’ Linnéa asks.

‘Ida talked about the same thing when she discovered she could read the
Book of Patterns
,’ she says, and finally finds the right page. ‘This is what she said: “That it’s, like, built for one. Then it works just great. But if more people try to get in there, someone always gets left out. And if the one who’s outside disappears, then the next ends up outside. And then the next. And the next. And the next. Until everyone’s gone.” She said it was like some kind of atmosphere.’

All the pieces fall into place. There’s the answer. Beautiful. Crystal clear. Minoo doesn’t need the answer to know it’s correct. ‘I know what the book is trying to tell us,’ she says. ‘It’s about the magic protection. What Adriana was talking about in the beginning. The thing that she and the Council thought was protecting us. Now you know that, try looking in the book again. Maybe it’ll change what you see in the patterns.’

‘Hang on,’ Linnéa says.

She’s silent for a long moment. Meanwhile Minoo hears her mother come up the steps and go into the bathroom. She must just have come home from the hospital. Water starts gushing from a tap.

‘Okay,’ Linnéa says. ‘It’s definitely talking about the protective magic. It was created for a single Chosen One. The book is trying to explain what the side effects are when it’s been expanded to cover seven people. It can’t protect everyone at once. One of us will always be left out. It’s like a kind of safety valve. This magic can’t contain multiple psyches, emotions, wills and thoughts. Like, it
would
implode if it tried to keep a tight defence around all of us.’

‘So someone always ends up outside its protection,’ Minoo says. ‘And as long as that person is alive, the rest of us are hidden. But if that person dies …’

‘… then someone else becomes exposed,’ Linnéa concludes.

Minoo gropes for the next logical link in her chain of thought.

‘Elias must have been the first who was unprotected,’ she says, ‘and when he died, it was Rebecka’s turn. Then mine. I’m the one who’s unprotected now.’

They fall silent.

‘But why did the attack on you fail?’ Linnéa asks eventually. ‘We don’t know what powers Elias may have had, but Rebecka could throw heavy shit around just using her mind. Is there something you can do that they couldn’t?’

‘I don’t know,’ Minoo says.

But she thinks about the black smoke. How she was able to make it disperse, at least for a moment. She wishes she could tell Linnéa about it, but she still feels ashamed to talk about it.

‘I suppose we’ll get all the answers tomorrow,’ Linnéa says, ‘when you speak to Gustaf.’

‘Let’s hope so.’

‘Are you scared?’

Linnéa is probably the only person in the world who would have to ask that.

‘Oh, no, I’m really looking forward to it,’ Minoo answers.

Linnéa laughs. Then she says gravely. ‘Good luck.’

They hang up and Minoo lies down on the bed. She shuts her eyes. Her thoughts hurtle through her mind until she feels as if she’ll suffocate under their weight.

Why did Elias and Rebecka die while she got to live?

Elias died at school. So did Rebecka.

The school is a place of evil
.

Is the evil that’s after them weak outside the school?

She thinks about the crack in the playground.

She thinks about the blood-red moon that hung heavily over Engelsfors’s whispering forests.

She thinks about Cat, about the letter Nicolaus wrote to himself. The last words.
Memento mori
.

Remember that you are going to die.

She thinks about the list of questions she prepared for Gustaf this evening. She thinks about Gustaf outside the library and Gustaf in the darkness by the viaduct. Gustaf who was loved by Rebecka. Gustaf who may have killed her.

I can’t do it. I won’t do it. I won’t listen to you
.

Those words follow Minoo into her sleep.

50

THE SUN IS
filtering through the half-open blinds in Nicolaus’s living room. Anna-Karin is sitting on one of the chairs, hunched forward, staring at her feet. She’s wearing red socks. Her left big toe is peeping out.

Now she’s told him everything, without looking him in the eye. She’s told him about her mother. About the boiling water. About Jari. About the ‘accident’. That it was really an attack against her. That she’d tried to play the heroine and it ended in disaster. She’s just finished telling him about Grandpa and now there’s nothing more to say. She’s told him everything and Nicolaus still hasn’t said a word.

Anna-Karin runs her foot across the floor and something sticky attaches itself to her sock. She bends down and plucks at something white, like chewing-gum.

‘Ectoplasm,’ Nicolaus says. ‘They performed a ritual here the other day. You were indirectly involved, from what I understand.’

Anna-Karin looks up. His expression is warm. She’s been expecting a dressing-down. Now she has to fight to hold back the tears. She’s been having regular crying fits ever since she visited Grandpa yesterday. It’s as if
all
those years of pent-up sadness are coming out.

‘Do you hate me?’ she asks.

‘Of course not.’

‘But the others do, don’t they? They’ve got to.’

‘Nobody hates you, Anna-Karin,’ Nicolaus says calmly. ‘But you should have told us earlier.’

Anna-Karin nods. ‘I was ashamed.’

‘We all do things we’re ashamed of,’ Nicolaus says.

‘But I’ve done so many.’

Nicolaus cocks his head to one side in a way that reminds her a little of Grandpa. ‘Consider my fate for a moment, if you will. I have but one single task: to guide the seven of you. And already two of you are lost. If anyone should feel shame, it’s me.’

‘Do you?’

‘I did,’ he says. ‘But I realised that self-pity had become a place where I hid from the world. A kind of poisoned refuge.’

Anna-Karin says nothing. She picks at the white clump. It feels warm.

‘You’ve made many mistakes. But just as you must learn to forgive your fellow human beings, you must also learn to forgive yourself. Forgiveness is always at hand, Anna-Karin, if you have the courage to accept it.’

Anna-Karin lets Nicolaus’s words sink in. She thinks of Grandpa again.

And I would love you no matter what mistakes you made. Even if you did something wrong, I’d love you, and if someone wanted to hurt you I’d defend you till my last drop of blood
.

‘I’m afraid of what the others will say,’ she almost whispers. ‘It’d feel easier if I could tell them one by one … Or, at least, not all at the same time.’

‘Start with the one you feel most comfortable with. Then we’ll call the others together.’

‘I was thinking about something from that night,’ Anna-Karin says. ‘The person who attacked me … Gustaf or his double or whoever it was. He must be like me.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘The voice in my head and how it controlled me. It’s almost like what I can do to others. The one who’s trying to kill us must be an earth witch.’

Gustaf’s family lives on the outskirts of town. The afternoon sun makes the blanket of snow sparkle. The naked birch branches are covered with a thin layer of ice – they look as though they’ve been crafted from delicate glass. Beyond the field, the black water of the canal swirls slowly past. Minoo wonders how many times Rebecka walked along here with Gustaf.

Footprints appear in the snow next to her as she walks. She and Vanessa have claimed to have caught flu to escape today’s practice session at the fairground. The principal swallowed their lie without comment. Minoo doesn’t doubt the woman’s intelligence, but it’s surprisingly easy to lie to her.

They turn down the last street before the edge of the forest. The terrace houses have two floors, with the same dark red wooden panelled façades and black window frames.

They stop in front of Gustaf’s door.

Minoo almost wishes she could have carried out this task on her own. What will Gustaf say when he thinks they’re alone? Will he expose her as someone who goes around locking lips with her dead friend’s murderer? What should she say if he does? How will Vanessa react?

Minoo rings the doorbell. She takes a deep breath and Vanessa gives her hand a squeeze. She doesn’t know if it was meant to say, ‘Let’s do this’, ‘You’ll be fine’ or ‘Pull yourself together, for Christ’s sake. You look like you’re about to shit your pants.’

Gustaf opens the door. His hair is still wet from his shower. It’s a few shades darker and frames his face, making his eyes light up even more clearly. ‘Hi!’ he says. ‘Come in!’

She takes off her shoes and places them on a newspaper that’s spread on the floor.

‘I’m just making us something to eat,’ Gustaf says, and disappears into the kitchen. ‘Do you like tuna?’

Minoo hates tuna. It’s cat food. Hopefully, she won’t have to eat all that much. ‘Yeah, of course!’ she shouts back.

She glances at the closed door. Somewhere over there Vanessa is removing her shoes and putting them in a plastic bag. Suddenly one falls onto the floor and becomes visible.

‘Everything all right?’

Minoo turns. Gustaf is standing in the doorway.

‘I dropped my shoe,’ Minoo answers, and probes his face for any sign of suspicion. She doesn’t detect any. ‘I’ll be right with you,’ she says, and he disappears back into the kitchen.

Minoo turns in time to see the shoe vanish into thin air. She raises an admonishing eyebrow in Vanessa’s direction, then heads into the kitchen.

Gustaf is setting the table. His father is folding away his newspaper and getting up from the table when Minoo enters.

Minoo curses inwardly. It would have been much easier if Gustaf had been alone at home. But she smiles at Gustaf’s father, holds out her hand and introduces herself.

‘I’m Lage,’ he says.

Lage is quite old, but she can see he was every bit as good-looking as Gustaf when he was young. He is tall and erect, and has a fine head of silvery hair. His handshake is firm and warm. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you,’ he says and it feels as if his right hand swallows up Minoo’s when they greet each other.

Minoo fumbles for an answer, but fear leaves her at a loss for words. She just smiles and hopes she’ll come across as shy rather than rude. Lage smoothes out a few crinkles in his folded newspaper – a copy of today’s
Engelsfors Herald
– and raises it to his forehead in feigned salute. ‘I’ll leave you two in peace,’ he says. ‘I’ll be in the basement working on the new track if you need me.’

‘“The new track”?’ Minoo asks, once he’s disappeared.

‘He’s got a model railway,’ Gustaf says, and puts out two glasses. ‘It’s pretty cool. He’s built a model of old Engelsfors and laid the tracks along the same route as the actual ones. There are lots of stretches of track around here that haven’t been used since the mine and steel works closed down.’

‘That sounds … cool,’ Minoo says.

Gustaf laughs and pours cola for them. ‘Okay, maybe that was the wrong word,’ he says. ‘Sit down.’