Emerald Greene and the Witch Stones Page 14

  Jess sighed and straightened up, folding her arms, as she saw a familiar pair of yellow-green eyes staring at her from behind the herbs. ‘Anoushka!’ she hissed, squatting down to look at the cat. ‘You’re going to get me into trouble! Remember Gabi’s allergy?’

  ‘Only too well,’ replied the cat. ‘Why do you think I’m lurking out here like a common criminal?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Jess answered crossly. ‘Come to think of it, why were you skulking about at this end of town when I first saw you?’

  ‘I get around,’ Anoushka muttered, lifting his nose haughtily as he settled down on the grass. ‘Need to scout out the territory. Keep an eye on... things.’

  ‘You’ve been watching me, haven’t you?’ Jess leaned forward, pointing a finger at the cat. ‘You know what? Emerald and I may be friends, but I still don’t quite trust you. And I don’t think you fully trust me, either.’

  ‘Keeping all options open,’ answered Anoushka sulkily. ‘Nothing wrong with that. If you were in our position - cut off across Time from your home, your people - you, too, would perhaps have a natural sense of mistrust.’ The cat’s ears twitched. ‘We were betrayed, once before. Never again.’

  Jess felt her body shaking with chilly excitement. ‘And you’re going to tell me, right? Exactly where you come from and how you got here? Because, to be honest, I’m getting a bit narked off with Emerald’s evasiveness.’

  ‘Absolutely not,’ said Anoushka, and Jess could have sworn that he sniffed in disdain. ‘Miss Emerald has the right to keep her secrets, and so do I.’

  ‘Oh, great.’ Jess scowled. ‘You want my help and my information, but you won’t trust me enough to tell me where you come from.’

  ‘We are Displaced.’

  ‘Yes, I know you’re “Displaced”,’ said Jess sarcastically, and she drew the speech-marks in the air with her fingers. ‘Change the record.’

  Anoushka’s whiskers twitched. ‘The record?’

  ‘You know - get a new line!’

  Anoushka hissed at her, baring his teeth and arching his back.

  For a second, Jess felt an irrational prickle of fear and she edged away. He’s just a cat, she told herself. He can’t do anything to hurt me.

  ‘So you want me to tell you all about us, Jessica Mathieson?’ Anoushka’s tone was harsh and sardonic. ‘Tell me this - are you as brave as you seem? Or as confident? As witty and intelligent? Probably not. Human beings are impressive at dissembling, putting on a show. You all wear a face to the world - one which reveals, at best, only part of the truth. Does this make you liars, schemers and villains? Or does it, on the contrary, merely make you human?’ Anoushka spat the last word, leaping forward and burying his claws into the soft earth with a snarl.

  Jess swallowed hard. It was, she admitted, difficult to answer that.

  ‘Well,’ said Jess, lifting her chin and sounding defiant, ‘I have a theory about you.’

  ‘Ohhh?’ Anoushka sounded amused. He sat down and began feigning interest in the gathering midges, swatting them with his paws. ‘Please, do tell.’

  Jess felt her courage growing as she spoke. ‘You’re not just lost - you’re... fugitives! That’s the word, isn’t it? Fugitives from another place. You ran away from something and ended up here.’ Jess leaned back on her heels and smiled. ‘I wonder why?’

  ‘Always full of questions,’ muttered the cat, and started chasing his own tail around in an attempt to look unconcerned. ‘Quite bright, in your primitive way.’

  Jess allowed herself a smile of satisfaction. ‘So have you just come here to insult me, or did you have a message?’

  Anoushka looked up. His eyes seemed to glow like little lamps in the gathering gloom. ‘There are... movements in the psychic energy levels. Something is about to happen. There may be a nexus point forming... so take care.’

  ‘Take care?’ Jess felt her heart beating faster. ‘How? What do I do?’

  ‘The school,’ Anoushka said. ‘Take care in the school.’

  ‘Jess?’ Gabi’s voice cut across the garden, and the back door creaked open. ‘Who are you talking to out there?’

  Jess scrunched her eyes shut in anger for a second, then scooped up Anoushka in her arms. ‘It’s okay, Aunt Gabi,’ she called. ‘It’s just that... stray again. Hanging round the garden. I’ll take it round to the path and let it go.’

  ‘That blasted cat. Don’t bring it near me!’ Gabi called.

  ‘Go,’ she whispered.

  Anoushka leapt from Jess’s arms and darted back into the shadows. She saw him burrow under a gap in the fence, and then he was gone.

  Jess slumped and sighed. ‘None the wiser,’ she muttered. ‘And now I’ve got something else to worry about.’

  She headed back into the house. The telephone was ringing when she got inside; Jess could hear Gabi splashing and singing in the bath upstairs, so she grabbed the receiver.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Jess, it’s me.’

  ‘Rich! How’s it going, mate?’

  ‘Listen, I’ve just been talking to Em. We’ve worked it out, Jess. Well, I worked it out and Em did it separately.’

  ‘What are you talking about, Rich? Worked what out?’

  ‘Jess, it’s the school. It’s Aggie’s. That’s where it’s going to happen! Emerald thinks it might be as early as tomorrow.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Look, if you plot the points where the witches have tried to break into the real world and then find their exact centre, that’s where their power is going to be strongest. It’s not going to happen at the stone circle, or the Cathedral, or the Darkwater. They’re going to break through in the school!’

  ‘Are you sure?’ she asked, but she didn’t really need to ask. She knew from the tone of his voice - and it made sense of Anoushka’s warning.

  ‘We’ve got to be ready, Jess. And we can’t tell anyone that we know, or they’ll just find out and change the nexus point.’

  ‘Wow. So this is it, then?’

  ‘Looks like it.’

  ‘Meresbury won’t know what’s hit it.’

  ‘That’s for sure.’

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then.’

  ‘Yeah. Tomorrow.’

  Jess put the receiver down.

  For the rest of the evening, she was troubled by weird, unsettled sensations, and could not settle to reading her book or watching television.

  And that night, only half-asleep, she had the oddest sensation. She imagined that she was looking down on her own sleeping form; the angle told her that she had to be the other side of her full-length mirror. She could see the room, oddly distorted; her posters, her dressing-table, her wardrobe, all of them blurred and shadowy as if viewed underwater.

  The angle changed, now, as if she were approaching her own bed with a hand-held camera. She could see herself, sleeping soundly under her duvet, hair spread out in a dark fan on the pillow.

  She swung round, approaching herself.

  Above the bed was her small mirror, and she glimpsed a pair of crystal-blue eyes in a pale face... Her own? She could not tell, for her eyes felt heavy and crunchy with sleep as they always did in dreams.

  And now, she saw a white hand reaching out to touch her cheek.

  ‘No!’

  Gasping, breathing heavily and raggedly, she sat bolt upright.

  She was back in her own body, looking the right way, now. There was nothing in the mirror but her own reflection. Her heart was thudding away, so hard she could hear it pounding in her head.

  Her alarm-clock was beeping.

  It was still dark! Surely not? Jess picked the clock up, shook it angrily - but sure enough, it read 08:30.

  No time for breakfast!

  She swung herself off the b
ed, splashed water on her face, pulled on her school clothes as quickly as she could. She didn’t have time to knot her tie; she shoved it in her pocket. Running out of the house, she was aware that books were spilling from her bag under the orange glow of the street-lamps, but she didn’t care.

  In slow motion, as if dragged back by Time itself, she ran for school.

  ‘Come on, girl! You’re late again!’

  With the Head’s voice ringing in her ears, Jess hurried up the steps. The bell was ringing for class, although for some reason the corridor was surging with pupils who were all heading in the opposite direction from her.

  She found her seat in the Citizenship class - her usual seat? She wasn’t sure. Mrs McSweeney, tall and graceful in her tartan dress, was already striding up and down the aisles, throwing exercise books on to their owners’ desks.

  ‘I am returning last Tuesday’s homework,’ Mrs McSweeney was booming, ‘in which I asked you all to write a letter to an MP on an issue which you felt strongly about. In general, this was very well done.’

  Last Tuesday? It seemed as if she’d done that homework ages ago. But hadn’t it been in English, not Citizenship? She heard her own ragged breath echoing in her head, tried hard to concentrate.

  Mrs McSweeney was striding up the aisle behind her. ‘A number of you, however, are still getting Yours sincerely and Yours faithfully muddled up!’

  Jess looked around, feeling faintly panicky, as if she had forgotten something. Could she, in fact, remember which way round they were meant to go? She wasn’t sure. It didn’t help that her eyes felt heavy-lidded and she couldn’t focus properly on the blurred room.

  Mrs McSweeney stopped right by Jessica’s desk, held her exercise book out flat and dropped it. The book seemed to fall infinitely slowly, like an autumn leaf - and then hit the desk with a resounding SMACK which made her jump.

  ‘Excellent work, Jessica!’ said Mrs McSweeney delightedly. ‘A well-researched, well-argued letter about blood sports in the Mere Valley. Well done.’

  Jess blinked, and there on the page in front of her was a big, red A in a circle, with those same words, ‘Well done,’ scrawled next to it.

  Jess grinned, feeling an enormous sense of relief washing over her. An A in Citizenship! All that extra work was paying off. Now, at last, she could -

  She blinked. Mrs McSweeney was standing on the teacher’s desk at the front of the room. Jess had not noticed her getting up - she was just suddenly there.

  ‘In fact,’ Mrs McSweeney was saying, ‘I think Jess’s letter was so good, that I’d like her to come out here and read it to us all.’

  Jessica suddenly realised that everybody was standing on their desks and applauding her, including Mrs McSweeney - and, strangely, all her other teachers. For some reason, there was also a white rabbit on her desk, and it was contentedly munching away at what remained of her exercise book.

  She looked Mrs McSweeney in the eye, suddenly finding herself dumbstruck with terror.

  ‘Wait a minute!’ she said suddenly, and folded her arms. The room had begun to pitch and toss like the deck of an ocean liner. ‘I’ve rumbled you. This isn’t a dream, by any chance?’

  The rabbit sniggered. ‘Of course it is, you silly girl,’ it said in Mrs McSweeney’s voice. ‘You didn’t think you’d really got an A in Citizenship, did you?’

  Jess groaned and slumped into her chair. ‘All right, all right! Let me out of here!’

  And she was running.

  She was racing through the school with her hockey-stick in both hands, and the corridors were full of smoke and screaming. Somehow, she knew that the smoke was only dry ice and the screaming was not real. In fact, it was on an iPod which she wore. Angrily, she ripped the white headphones off, stamped on them, watched the bits skitter across the floor and hit the walls.

  ‘Control your childish impulses,’ said the rabbit, which was somehow sitting on her shoulder.

  Jess whirled around. She was in the school swimming-pool, and the surface of the water was blue, clear and still. She could smell the pungent odour of chlorine - no, of course not. She thought she ought to smell chlorine and so her subconscious created it. This was weird! She had never dreamed in such a knowing way before.

  ‘Look who’s here to see you!’ said the rabbit in an oddly sweet, cloying voice - as it changed into a black cat and hopped down on to the side of the pool.

  The water surged. As if pushed from beneath by a giant hand, it took form, shimmered with blueish light.

  Jess gasped.

  A face began to form in the water.

  The face of a woman.

  Crystal-blue eyes, white-blonde hair, pale skin, a kind expression.

  Long, fluid arms reached out for Jess. The figure wanted her to take its hands, to join her in the water.

  ‘Hello, darling,’ the voice said. ‘I’ve missed you.’

  And then her body began to prickle with that horrible sensation; the thought that something was wrong, that things were not how they seemed, and she knew she had to deny this, to escape it.

  ‘No!’ she said. Then, again, louder: ‘No! I am dreaming. I am dreaming!’

  Gasping, she awoke.

  Panting for breath.

  She took a moment to assess the situation.

  She opened her hands in front of her face, examined her palms. She reached out for the reassuring chunkiness of the digital alarm-clock - which was reading 01:22 - and listened for a moment, for sounds in the city far below. It was silent, as usual.

  This was real. This was wakefulness. You knew it; you could feel it and smell it. Every sense was in place as it should be. It was nothing like the blurry reality of dreams, nothing like in the tricks your mind played on you.

  Jess flopped back down on her pillow and closed her eyes.

  She slept again, but that night her sleep was fitful and uncomfortable.

  She could hardly believe any time had passed at all when the alarm bleeped at her, and the first grey light of day seeped in from the chink between the curtains.

  8

  An Incursion

  A drizzly, grey Monday morning at St Agnes’ School. As pupils streamed inside for registration, Emerald and Jessica met for a brief conference at the outdoor rubbish-bins.

  ‘Have you seen anything?’ said Emerald coldly.

  Jess shook her head. ‘Just the usual.’ She took a wad of printed pages out of her satchel and gave it to Emerald. ‘That’s everything I’ve been able to find out. I don’t really understand archaeology.’

  Emerald leafed through the pages, tossing them casually over her shoulder into the bin. ‘No... no... no....’ She stopped. ‘What is this?’ she asked, her finger jabbing on one page.

  ‘Oh, it’s just a report from Oxford University. Sorry, it may not be relevant, but I did a search for everything containing his name. Do you know there’s a Lake District town called Ulverston as well? Made it very diff- okay, so you’re not listening.’

  ‘I am not listening.’ Emerald was scanning the paragraph, and Jess saw her pale fingers tighten their grip on the page. ‘Meeting of the Grants Committee... recommends no further investment... findings not proven...’ She smacked the page, making Jessica jump. ‘This is it. This is it!’

  ‘It’s what?’

  ‘The proof, Jessica!’

  ‘Proof of what?’

  ‘Professor Ulverston was about to have his research funding cut off. Look! The reports are all here!’ Emerald waved the page under Jess’s nose. ‘Only the third full Viking tomb ever to be uncovered in the British Isles. An ideal addition to the country’s heritage, you would have thought. And yet the authorities did not want Ulverston to open it up.’

  Jess struggled to get her head round what Emerald was implying. ‘So he went against them? Got private fu
nding from somewhere?’

  Emerald’s eyes were sharp, intense and green. ‘Ego and greed... Always remember, Jess, science is not pure. There is much about it that can be put to bad use, as well as good.’ Her green eyes opened wide. ‘You found the information on... the other?’

  ‘That name? Frey-gerd?’ Jess said it uncertainly. The name sounded cold, angry - evil. ‘Yeah, got it here. Google’s my best buddy.’

  ‘Google?’ Emerald looked quizzical.

  ‘Okay, um, I’ll show you another time... But once I’d eliminated all the stuff from online role-playing games, there wasn’t very much.’ She unrolled a second sheaf of pages from her pocket. ‘Slight problem though. It’s all in some foreign language.’ Jess pointed to the characters on the page, which to her had looked more like gibberish when she printed them out. ‘For a minute I thought my printer was on the blink.’

  Emerald snatched the printout from Jess. ‘Danish!’ she exclaimed in delight.

  ‘Thanks, but I’ve just had breakfast.’

  ‘No, no, no, it is written in Danish!’ Emerald breathed out and her fingers tightened with excitement on the page. ‘Freygerd, a Viking warrior queen with fearsome magical powers... thought to be slain by her enemies in the 11th Century...’ Emerald looked up slowly and then turned to look at Jess.

  ‘Some sort of legendary Viking woman? Is that what you were after?’ Jess wrinkled her nose. ‘Can you read it?’ she added, once more in awe of her strange friend.

  Emerald shrugged modestly. ‘I have picked up a smattering here and there.’

  ‘Where did you find out the name?’ Jess asked.

  ‘Anoushka. He... reached out to that thing in the tomb.’

  ‘Reached out? What are you on about?’

  ‘Trust me, Jess, I do not have time to explain everything to you right now.’

  Jess whistled. ‘So where does this leave us?’

  Emerald tapped the side of her nose. ‘Empowered,’ she said. ‘With information.’

  ‘So what do we do?’

  ‘We wait for it to happen.’ Emerald gave one of her rare, broad grins. ‘Exciting, is it not?’