Spellfall (7 page)

Quite crazy. But something clicked. “You mean Hallowe’en, don’t you?”

“That’s what some people call the Opening, yes. But it’s been happening for ages, ever since the Boundary was first created. It’s had lots of names. But surely your parents told you all this? They’re Spellmages, aren’t they? At least one of them must be or you wouldn’t have the ancient blood.” His grin faded, as if he’d remembered something. He crept closer and suddenly clutched her hand. “I’m supposed to find out how much you know about us,” he whispered with another glance at the door. “If you tell me, I’ll see if I can send a message to your family. I’m not promising anything, but I
might
be able to use a spell to transport it—”

Natalie snatched her hand free. “Of course my parents aren’t Spellmages!” she screamed. “Or Casters or wizards or anything else like that! My dad’s a salesman, or used to be before he lost his job, and Mother’s— Never mind. I can’t stay here a whole week, Julie and Dad will be worried sick.”

“Shh!” Merlin backed to the door. “Anyway, you’ll have to stay longer than a week. Don’t you understand? When you join a spellclave, it’s for ever.”

She stared at him, ice once more creeping down her spine. “
For ever?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I can’t stop him, but maybe—”

He broke off as rapid footsteps approached the door and the bolts scraped back. Natalie’s stomach clenched. But the door opened only a crack so the bird-headed stick could hook Merlin out, then slammed shut behind him. Hearing the bolts shoot home, she scrambled off the bed and thumped the door. “Come back!” she yelled. “I’m thirsty! I’m cold! You can’t keep me here like this! Oh, please come back—”

Two sets of footsteps walked away, and the single bulb dimmed. She held her breath until it came bright again, then slumped to the floor. All the tears she’d been holding back since she’d woken suddenly flooded out. “I’m not a stupid Spellmage,” she sobbed. “I’m normal, normal,
normal!
And I want to go home.”

Chapter 5

CAPTIVE

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday

October 26, 27, 28

~~*~~

Natalie wasn’t back for Sunday tea, nor for tea the next day, nor the next. No one was pretending any more and the holiday was ruined. Julie spent half her time at the Carter house consoling Jo’s mother, and Mrs Carter spent the rest of her
time at the Marlins’ house consoling Julie. Meals arrived on the table at unpredictable hours, either overcooked or almost raw. Jo’s little sister, who until now Tim hadn’t realized existed, trailed after Mrs Carter like a freckle-faced ghost making idiotic suggestions such as, “Maybe she skated into a ditch and broke her leg,” or, “Maybe she knocked herself out and lost her memory.” Then she remembered whose skates Nat had been using when she disappeared and whined, “I will get my rollerblades back, won’t I?” Tim could have strangled her. But Mrs Carter merely said, “Hush, Sarah. Don’t be so selfish. People are more important than skates.” Which set both mothers off again.

With all the fuss, Tim found himself ignored even more than usual. Mr Marlins had disappeared back into his garage and had yet to carry out his threat to deal with him later. The only reaction Tim got to his earring and haircut was from Sarah who giggled and told him he looked like a sissy. She was hiding behind her mother’s skirts at the time, so Tim had to content himself with glowering at her.

He saw Jo just once, when she came over with her mother and sister on Monday morning to say she was sorry for taking Natalie out in the fog. He’d never seen her so pale and quiet. She stared through him as if he weren’t there and after she’d apologized she fled straight out of the door, tears streaming down her cheeks. It was an ideal opportunity for the Death Heads to wreak their revenge on Jo for making their leader look stupid in front of the whole school. But when Gaz and Mike cornered him in town later that day, Tim kept his mouth shut.

“Heard your kid sister ran off,” Gaz said. He rested one foot on the crossbar of his mountain bike and casually balanced against the wall, swinging his other leg. “Give us some tips, then. I’d like to get rid of mine.”

Tim wondered if it was supposed to be a joke. Gaz’s smirk said not. Before he thought what he was doing, he’d kicked Gaz’s bike out from under him. It fell with a clatter and Gaz sprawled on top, yelling. Mike rushed forward to help him up but only succeeded in knocking the bike down again. Before either Head could recover, Tim fled.

It was typical. Now he had nothing to go out for. No one seemed to care whether or not he turned up for meals or how late he came in. After a frustrating ten minutes kicking his heels in his room, Tim grabbed his jacket and left to make a thorough search of Millennium Green for traces of Nat. Apparently, Jo had told the police about an old man who had scared Nat on Saturday near the recycling bins. The latest theory was that this man had kidnapped her. But so far no ransom note had arrived and the police had found no clues as to where she might have gone or been taken. “It’s as if she vanished into thin air,” Julie told Tim tearfully when they crossed paths in the kitchen on Tuesday.

And now the police were dredging the river. No one had told Tim why, but he wasn’t stupid. He hated having to be nice to Nat all the time, hated the way his mother fussed over her as if she were his real sister. But no matter how infuriating she was sometimes, she didn’t deserve to be dead.

She
couldn’t
be dead.

If she died, it would be his fault.

*

Without a ransom note, her family would think she was dead and eventually stop looking for her. This terrifying thought came to Natalie as she struggled to wakefulness on what must have been her second or third day in the attic. She had to escape. The only question was – how?

She still didn’t know where her clothes were. She didn’t know the time, or even the day, since there was no clock in the room and she slept such a lot between meals. They never let her out, not even to go to the bathroom – there was a chemical toilet and a basin of water crammed into one of the cupboards. It stank whenever she opened the door but she didn’t have a lot of choice. Her tiredness probably had something to do with the drug they had given her in the car park but she had to shake it off. No matter what, she had to get out of here before Hallowe’en. Who knew what crazy things the man called Hawk and the empty-eyed woman had planned for her then?

“Next time the door opens,” she promised herself, hugging her knees for courage.

She knew the routine by now. When they brought her meals, two sets of footsteps would approach the door. One person would stay outside while Merlin slipped in with her tray. Although she’d tried talking to him several times, he just shook his head like an idiot and backed out again. If she hurt him it would be his own fault.

The warning creak of the stairs wasn’t long coming. She tensed as the double set of footsteps approached along the passage and stopped outside her door. Very quietly, she eased herself out of bed and put her back to the wall. The bolts scraped and the door opened its usual crack to let Merlin slip inside. Before he was completely through, Natalie sprang into action. She seized her supper from his surprised hands, elbowed him out of the way and jammed the tray into the closing gap.

A curse came from the passage and the bird-headed stick crashed into the tray, loosening Natalie’s grip. At the same time, the door was pulled shut. The tray went rattling into the corridor and the door slammed on Natalie’s fingers. She snatched her hand back with a scream – half pain, half frustration.

“I hate you!” she yelled, sucking her sore knuckles. “When I get out of here, you’ll be sorry! I saw your face in the car park! I’ll identify you to the police and then they’ll lock
you
up. For ever and ever!”

“No, Spider!” Merlin cried, breaking his rule of silence and catching her arm. “Don’t make him angry, or he’ll hurt Itsy!” He had spaghetti bolognese all down the front of his jumper. She shrugged him off in disgust.

A nasty chuckle came from behind the closed door. “Maybe a small demonstration wouldn’t go amiss. But soon her little familiar will be meeting my goshawk – after that she won’t be identifying me to anyone unless I say so. In fact, I think we’ll bond her tomorrow. She’ll be less trouble then.”

Merlin paled. “No, Father, please. Claudia says she’s not ready yet. She’ll be good – won’t you, Spider?”

The door slammed back on its hinges. Natalie stood her ground, though her heart hammered so loudly she thought it would burst. Hawk strode in, his black hair flowing, eyes fierce yellow in the harsh shadows cast by the bare bulb. He carried his stick like a sword. His gaze swept the room, taking in the cowering Merlin, the broken plate, the spaghetti on the floor, finally coming to rest on Natalie in her crumpled bolognese-stained shift, her hair tangled across her face.

As she glared back, his lips twisted. “She looks ready enough to me. I’m aware of what you and Claudia are up to, boy, but you won’t find anyone else with her sort of power in three days. What do you think I’ve been doing all these years? Watching spell banks for fun? Besides, my little Spider’s special.” He chuckled. His stick prodded Natalie’s chin, pinning her against the wall. She clenched her fists, determined not to cry.

“Have to clean you up a bit before the ceremony,” Hawk went on. “Can’t have my spellclave looking as if they’ve just crawled through the Thrallstone when I invade Earthaven, can I? A Spell Lord has certain standards to keep up.”

“You’re crazy,” Natalie whispered. “All of you.”

This made him laugh. “You’re much sweeter asleep, I must admit, but after tonight you won’t need sleeping pills when I want you sweet. Come out of there, boy. Leave her to think about it. Won’t do her any harm not to have any supper tonight, she’s not going anywhere.” The stick left her chin and hooked Merlin’s elbow, tugging him out of the room. The door slammed. The bolts scraped home.

Natalie sank on to the bed, trembling. “Stupid, stupid, stupid!” she hissed into the pillow. All she’d achieved was the loss of her supper. Plus that chilling revelation.

“You put sleeping pills in my food,” she whispered, rubbing her throat where the stick had bruised it. Of all the things they had done to her so far, that seemed the worst. And yet... “If you were real wizards, you wouldn’t need drugs and locks to keep me here.”

She sat up and stared at the door, an idea taking root in her brain. If their powers weren’t real, it would do no harm to play along, would it? Then, when her kidnappers trusted her enough to give her back her clothes, she’d run. As fast and as far as she could.

Chapter 6

THE THRALLSTONE

Wednesday night, October 28

~~*~~

On Wednesday evening, at about the time Natalie was making her escape bid, Tim came to a decision. He locked himself in the bathroom and hunched before the mirror to examine his ear. The miniature Death Head skull grinned back at him. Nothing had gone right since he’d started to wear it, almost as if the skull contained the evil powers Gaz claimed it did. He clenched his teeth and slowly eased the earring out.

It came free in a spurt of yellow pus. He wiped it clean and dropped it into one of the many pockets in his birthday jacket. Then he hurried downstairs where his mother was just getting into her coat.

“I’m going round to Mrs Carter’s,” she said without looking at him. “There’s a pizza in the freezer for supper if you get hungry.”

He took a deep breath. “I have to tell you something. It’s about Nat.”

She froze, one arm half in the coat sleeve.

Tim rushed on. “I lied to that policewoman. I… uh… didn’t get back till early Sunday morning and I saw Nat go out. I thought it was weird, her going out in the dark and all that fog. I know I should’ve stopped her but I thought she’d be OK with Jo and the dog. I’m real sorry I let her go off like that. I’ve looked everywhere I can think of round town. Do you want me to help you search the woods or anything?”