The Midnight Carnival (7 page)

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Authors: Erika McGann

BOOK: The Midnight Carnival
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A cigar,
thought Grace.

She inched her way back to the entrance, making sure her feet made no sound. She tried to put it out of her mind, but she couldn’t help wondering who this doctor was, and what Drake wanted from him.

The strongwoman hauled weights to the stage, the muscles of her arms swelling with every lift, and shrinking with every drop. Every now and then she balanced a dumbbell on her forearm, letting it roll back and forth before she bounced it to the other hand. She didn’t see the clowns enter the tent, creeping like spiders on a string of gossamer, silken suits in drab colours blending too easily in the dim light. One crept up behind her and pulled at a lock of her hair. She gasped and swung a fist, missing the painted face that moved too fast. He smiled and dropped a deep bow.

‘Is bold,’ she said, her breath fast. ‘No playing now, I have show.’

The painted faces in silk suits didn’t move.

‘I do not vont you here. Understand? You leave now. I
have show.’

The silk suits filed into line and sat in the front row, crossing their legs in unison. There were more weights behind the small stage, but the woman seemed reluctant to turn her back to retrieve them. Instead she stood, her shoulders hunched, watching the front row as if it were filled with coiled vipers. Eventually, one silk suit raised his hands and clapped. Soon they were all applauding as the woman stood trembling. She didn’t budge from her spot on the floor until all of them had blown kisses, stood up from their seats, and filed out of the tent.

Shaking, the woman wiped sweat from her brow and slowly bent to her work.

‘Feel that.’

Jenny curled her arm in Grace’s face.

‘Why?’

‘Just feel it.’

Grace pinched her bicep. ‘Okay.’

‘That’s muscle.’

‘Doesn’t feel like more muscle than I’ve got.’

Jenny slumped into her chair.

‘That’s cos I’ve only just started. Wait a couple of weeks and I’ll have biceps the size of Agata’s.’

‘Might take a little more than two weeks, Jenny.’

‘Why would you want muscles like Agata’s?’ said Rachel. ‘You’ll get all bulky and won’t fit into your clothes.’

‘That’s the plan, Dan,’ said Jenny. She growled and pulled a body builder pose, making Rachel grimace.

They’d just finished their first day of third year, and now they were waiting patiently for Miss Lemon in her empty classroom. The teachers had gone easy on them the first day back, but the mention of end-of-year exams already had Grace’s stomach in a knot. The whiny hum coming from the back of the room wasn’t helping her nerves.

‘Una, give it a rest, will you?’

Una cupped her hand to her ear.

‘Hmm? You want more, you say? Sing it loud, you say?’

‘Oh, God,’ moaned Jenny as Una kneeled up on her chair. ‘She found some album of power ballads belonging to her dad, and fell in love with them. It’s been like this all day – “I can’t live without you, you are my everything,” blah blah blah.’

‘It’s Heart, baby!’ Una yelled. ‘They’re classic.’

‘You only heard of them yesterday.’


You’re the voice and the something soomethi-ing, something else and some other stuuuuuuff. Woah-oo-woah-ooo-woah-oh-oh
.’ Una wailed with her eyes squeezed shut.

‘Oh, my God.’ Rachel stuck her fingers in her ears. ‘At least learn the words if you’re gonna be screaming it at–’


IIIIIII can’t learn the wor-or-ords, there’s waaaay to maaaany
wor-or-or or-or-ords.

‘Good heavens, girls. It’s you making all that racket?’

Miss Lemon shut the door behind her, straightening the bun of dark hair at the back of her head, and set a pile of books on her desk.

‘Sorry, miss,’ Grace said. ‘Una’s discovered music.’

‘Is that what that was.’

‘How are you, miss?’ Una was a little out of breath as she took her seat.

‘I’m very well, Una, thank you.’ The teacher fixed them with a steady look. ‘And I trust you girls are ready to work hard on your craft this year?’

Miss Lemon, along with Delilah’s guardian, Vera Quinlan, had taken charge of the girls when they became interested in witchcraft, and she had now been teaching them secretly for two years.

‘But we kept up with our magic lessons during the summer,’ said Grace. ‘We’re not behind, are we?’

‘No, you’re not, but Vera and I took it easy on you during your holidays. Now the real study begins.’

The teacher was smiling, but Grace felt uneasy as she pulled what looked like timetables out of a folder and handed them out.

‘Every day, miss?’ asked Delilah as she scanned the sheet she was given.

‘Every day, including weekends. And we’re introducing
tests once a month, too. Vera agrees with me that you need regular assessment to ensure you’re keeping your skills honed.’

‘But we’ve the Junior Cert this year,’ Grace said. ‘How are we going to fit it all in?’

‘Don’t worry, you’ll manage.’ Miss Lemon beamed as she handed her a timetable. ‘And I’ll be here to help.’

Grace’s heart sank as she looked through the jam-packed schedule, until she suddenly felt something was wrong. She glanced around and realised Adie was sitting alone in the back row. Had she been there all along? She caught her eye and smiled. Adie smiled back but quickly dropped her gaze to her timetable.

I’ll catch up with her on the way home
, Grace thought,
and make sure everything’s okay
.

But Grace did not catch up with Adie. For one thing, she became so absorbed in lessons and timetables that she completely forgot. And for another, Adie said goodbye to the girls and hurried off by herself, pretending she didn’t hear Una shout after her to meet at the carnival after dinner.

Once out of sight of the others, Adie’s pace slowed to a stroll. She didn’t feel like going home yet. This was usually time she would spend with the girls, practising spells or chatting about what had happened in school that day. She circled
the long way back to school and sat on the grass at the edge of the football pitch, watching the sun go down. At the far end of the field she could see a scrap of cloth caught on the wiry hedge, fluttering in the breeze. It reminded her of the red scarf Mrs Quinlan had used to signal them when they had their very first adventure and found the demon well.

The demon well. It seemed so long ago now. The girls had stumbled upon the well by accident, and spent part of their first year at school battling a mischievous demon that they had unwittingly summoned from it. The eccentric Old Cat Lady had helped them defeat it. Owing to the lack of technology in her home, she had chosen to use the red scarf to summon them rather than a phone.

Not knowing why, Adie now got to her feet and walked towards the flitting scrap of cloth, slipped through the wiry hedge, and into the cul-de-sac of Wilton Place. She ducked into the shadows as the front door of Mrs Quinlan’s dilapidated house creaked open. Delilah stepped onto the porch.

‘I’ll be back by ten!’ she yelled back inside.

‘You’ll be back by nine.’ Mrs Quinlan’s voice was low and grumpy, but somehow travelled out into the street. ‘And it’s your turn to feed the cats in the morning.’

‘I won’t forget.’

Delilah pulled the door shut and took off down the road with a skip in her step.

Adie tentatively made her way up the driveway and
knocked on the door. The woman who answered looked like she’d just stepped out of a tumbledryer; a tumbledryer full of cat hair, mothballs and tweed patches. Nothing she wore matched, and her grey hair fell in unruly waves down her neck.

‘Well, what are
you
doing here? Is something wrong?’ Her pale eyes narrowed. ‘Where’s Delilah? How can you lot have caused a disaster already, the girl just left the house.’

‘Nothing’s wrong, Mrs Quinlan, Delilah’s fine. I was just passing and I…’ Turning to the street as if it offered some explanation for her visit, Adie tried desperately to think of something. ‘I, em, I had a witchcraft question.’

The eyes narrowed so tightly, Adie wasn’t sure the woman could still see out of them.

‘Lessons with me aren’t ’til tomorrow.’

‘I know, I got the timetable.’

‘Then why are you bothering me on my day off?’

‘It’s a very important question.’

The woman harrumphed, then turned and marched back into the house. Closing the front door gently, Adie followed her into the kitchen. The room was usually filled with cats, and smelled like it, but only one was curling around Adie’s ankles as she sat at the table.

‘They’re gone to the carnival, the others. You didn’t go,’ Mrs Quinlan said, pouring some tea that smelled like it had been steeping for hours.

‘No.’

‘Thought you were all dying to go live in the park now it’s covered in tents.’

‘No. The others are, but… You and Ms Lemon have known each other forever, right?’

‘Since school.’

‘Right.’

‘That’s not forever.’

‘But it’s a really, really long time.’ Adie winced. ‘I don’t mean you’re ancient or anything–’

‘You’re a sweetheart.’

‘– I just mean, you’ve known each other for quite a few years.’

‘Is this drivel going somewhere?’

‘Do you ever feel like you don’t understand her? Ms Lemon, I mean. Do you sometimes wonder why she likes certain things, or doesn’t get why you’re mad or–’

‘All the time. The woman’s a complete mystery to me.’

‘Oh.’

Mrs Quinlan slurped her tea, her pale eyes curious. ‘Was that the question?’

‘Sorry?’

‘Was that the it’s-so-urgent-it-can’t-wait-til-tomorrowor-my-eyeballs-will-explode witchcraft question?’

‘Oh. No.’

‘Then what is it?’

Adie turned her cup on the worm-eaten wood, racking her brains for something to ask. Her gaze shifted around the grubby kitchen, finally resting on a pile of books on a crooked shelf above the window.

HyBreasal and Other Phantom Islands

The Hy Brasil Myth: A Wiccan Home Lost

In the Mists of the Atlantic: The Secret Portal

‘Are you researching Hy-Breasal? Why?’ said Adie.

‘Cos a bunch of squirmy creatures snatched you lot from right under my nose and took you there, that’s why. You forgotten already?’

‘No, but we’re home now. Why bother with all the reading?’

‘To make sure you don’t get swallowed into that hellhole again should the giant worms make a comeback. I take it you haven’t got the group brain cell today.’

‘It wasn’t
all
horrible. We made some really good friends there – other witch apprentices. That was really nice, not being the only ones. I kind of miss that now.’ Adie brightened. ‘Hey, is there any way of getting in touch with the island from here?’

‘Don’t go messing with that now. Leave it be.’

‘But Mrs Quinlan–’

‘I said leave it be!’ The woman held her with a frosty stare, though Adie thought she saw the shadow of worry in her eyes. ‘You girls and my Delilah only just made it off that
island in one piece. You don’t think about it, you don’t talk about it, and you sure as hell don’t try and make contact with it. You hear me?’

‘Yes, Mrs Quinlan.’

Adie finished her tea in silence. Picking up her school bag, she could see Mephistopheles blocking her way to the front door, growling at her and cleaning his face with elegant sweeps of his paw. In the corner next to him was a cat bowl, filled with water.

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