The Key

WITCHES, ALIVE AND DEAD

THE CIRCLE OF CHOSEN ONES IN ENGELSFORS

OTHERS

A NOTE ON THE SWEDISH SCHOOL SYSTEM

In Sweden, grades 1-9 comprise primary school, and secondary school (high school) lasts for three years, the equivalent of US grades 10-12. The main characters in The Key are therefore finishing eleventh grade when the book begins, and the characters that are about a year older are about to graduate.

The Borderland

CHAPTER 1

The dazzling white light is growing fainter.

Ida blinks a few times, looks around.

She isn’t in the church anymore. She is nowhere. Surrounded by grayness, like a fog but not quite. Much more like nothingness.

Matilda still stands next to her in her white dress, holding her hand. Matilda’s reddish-blonde hair, ice-blue eyes and freckles contrast with the grayness around them.

Ida tries to tug her hand free, but Matilda won’t let go.

‘Where are we?’ Ida asks.

‘In the Borderland.’

‘What is—’

Matilda shushes her.

‘Be quiet,’ she whispers. Her fearful eyes scan the gray nothingness. ‘Or they might find us.’

Ida suddenly feels glad that Matilda is holding her hand.

Her hand.

Moments ago, when Ida was still in the church, she had reached out for Minoo, but Minoo had walked straight through her. But apparently Matilda can hold on to her.

So maybe I’m not all that dead yet, after all, Ida thinks. Can’t be.

She looks at herself and realizes that she is wearing her usual clothes. Dark jacket. Pale blue V-necked sweater and jeans.

She touches the silver heart that hangs on a chain around her neck.

Matilda’s grip tightens.

‘Ouch,’ Ida hisses.

Matilda starts running, pulling at Ida, who stumbles until they find a shared rhythm.

The ground is hidden under the veil of mist. It is yielding, almost marshy, underfoot, and Ida can’t hear their footfalls. But at least there is something like ground. She can feel it. And running speeds up her breathing, makes her pulse beat faster. The silver heart bounces against her chest.

I just can’t be totally dead, she thinks. I mean, like, not totally.

They keep running. There is nothing to catch your eye in the grayness; perspectives disappear and, seemingly, they’re getting nowhere.

Ida glances behind her. Only grayness.

No. Something else. A sound like a faint whisper.

Something is there.

Ida can’t see it, but is still certain that it’s there. She runs faster. By now she is pulling Matilda along. Onwards, onwards, through nothingness.

Another whisper. Now, she hears it close behind her.

Ida chokes back a cry. It feels as if all she ever feared about darkness is chasing her.

She can make out a change ahead of them, then sees that there really is something, though no more than a shift in the depth of the grayness, as if it were thinning out. Beyond the gray veil, she senses a hint of light, like the sun behind the clouds on an overcast day; a dull shade of yellow, of light diluted and scattered in moisture.

They have almost reached the light when Matilda stops abruptly. Her ice-blue eyes, so like Nicolaus’s, drill into Ida.

‘I must distract them but I’ll find you again,’ Matilda says. ‘Time and space here are different from what you know. While you’re here, you must keep on the move. Look for the lights.’

And then she gives Ida a firm push.

It is like falling in slow motion. The air is thick and resists her.

Suddenly, Ida is somewhere different.

A stone-flagged floor. A grand gallery. Tall columns vanish into the dark space above her head. Their shafts are decorated with patterns and shapes in clear colors: red, blue, yellow, green, black. The air is hazy with incense and the strong, spicy scent makes her dizzy.

The only source of light seems to be the teenage girl in the middle of the gallery. Light radiates from her body and filters through her white linen shift. Her dark wavy hair falls over her shoulders. Her head hangs down; her chin rests on her chest. Only her toes lightly touch the floor.

She is hovering.

‘Excuse me … but … hello?!’ Ida hears how shrill she sounds.

The girl’s head is lifted, as if pulled up by an invisible hand under her chin. She wears a necklace, a small pottery object on a chain. Her mouth opens slowly and she starts to speak, straight out into the gloom around her.

‘We are here now,’ she says.

The language is alien to Ida, but she understands all the same.

From somewhere, the grating voice of an old man.

‘We greet you.’

For the first time, Ida becomes aware of other people in the gallery. She can hardly make them out where they are sitting in the shadowy spaces beyond the reach of the girl’s light. There are about twenty of them, at a guess. Perhaps more.

Ida is about to say something else, but holds back. Even if they are able to understand what she says, attracting attention could be an horrendous mistake. She has no clue who they might be. And no clue where she might be, for that matter.

‘All of you have been called in your dreams to come here,’ the girl tells her audience. ‘All of you are witches. All of you are masters of magic in different forms. We called you and you came.’

‘Who are you?’ A woman’s voice comes from somewhere in the dark. ‘Are you spirits who speak through this girl?’

‘Yes, spirits of a kind,’ the girl replies. ‘We are your guardians.’

The guardians. They must be able to help Ida. Explain what’s happening here.

‘Hello?’ Ida walks up to the girl. ‘It’s me … Ida!’

But the girl looks straight through her.

‘We have watched over you since the beginning of time,’ the guardians pronounce in the girl’s voice. ‘We have been watching over you, seen you build your communities and fight your wars. We have not interfered. But circumstances changed.’

‘Hi!’ Ida waves her hand in front of the girl’s face.

No response. She attempts to hold on to the girl’s arm, but her hand grips empty air. It is just as it was in the church.

‘Evil beings, demons, are trying to force their way into this world,’ the girl continues.

‘Demons?’

It is a young man’s voice.

Ida backs away but doesn’t want to end up in the shadows. Especially not when they’re talking about demons.

‘They are able to move between worlds,’ the girl tells him. ‘They have only one purpose: to bring order into chaos.’

‘That is good,’ the young man says. ‘Chaos should be eliminated.’

‘You do not understand. When the demons arrive in other worlds and discover its life-forms, they see taming them as their task. They attempt to reshape that world in their image. The demons despise feelings, disorder, differences. They regard themselves as flawless and eternal; no other beings can live up to their ideals. When the demons fail to tame a world according to their intentions, they exterminate everything alive there. Devastate it utterly.’

A restless, worried mumble rises from the congregation.

‘So far, we guardians have succeeded in stopping the demons,’ the girl says. ‘But, in the battles between the demons and us, the veil between the worlds was ripped in seven places. Seven weakened areas were created. They serve as a set of doors through which the demons can gain entrance. We have managed to close them temporarily, but they must be sealed.’

Ida has heard all this before. To be precise, she has said it herself before, after Matilda took possession of her and used her as a medium.

‘The first portal to be sealed is here, in your town,’ the girl continues.

The first? Matilda had said that six of the seven portals had been closed by other, earlier Chosen Ones, and that the Engelsfors portal was the last.

A shiver runs down Ida’s spine.

The first portal must be closed and sealed. So, the question isn’t just where she is. It is also when she is wherever she is.

‘The portal gives your town a special magic status. Just now, we are in a period of high magic. Its level will increase, and when the power is at its peak, the veil between the worlds will be at its thinnest. Only then can the portal be sealed. And the young woman, through whom we are currently speaking, is the only one who can do it. She is the Chosen One.’

The first portal. The first Chosen One.

‘This must be a dream,’ Ida tells herself, shutting her eyes tightly. ‘Such a long dream, but I’ll wake up soon and everything will be back to normal. I’ll be in the first year of high school. There won’t have been a night of a blood-red moon. Everything has to be a dream – it’s so much more likely.’

She tries to make herself wake up. She even pinches her arm. But when she opens her eyes again, she sees the glowing, hovering girl.

Tears begin to flow down Ida’s cheeks.

At least, if I can cry, I can’t be totally dead, she thinks.

But then, she can’t figure out what’s worse. To be dead, or just stuck in another time.

‘What is supposed to be so special about this girl?’ the young man asks.

‘She has a particular connection to this place,’ the guardians reply. ‘And she is in control of more magic than any of you ever will be.’

The irritable old man’s voice speaks again.

‘You are insulting us.’

‘We tell you the truth. You were called here because of your magic talents. But your reach is limited because you do not truly understand your powers. You have got much to learn.’

Someone sniffs derisively. The girl turns her head slightly to look in that direction. Once more the silence is complete.

‘You don’t even know the most fundamental structure of magic,’ she tells them.

‘Really? Then do enlighten us!’ the old man says.

‘In this world, there are six elements,’ the guardians state. ‘The elements are the basic essentials of all magic. Each one of you is able to control one element.’

The girl raises her hands. No she doesn’t, Ida reminds herself. The guardians raise the girl’s hands.

Two yellow flames flare up in her palms.

‘Fire,’ the first of the Chosen Ones says.

The next moment, the flames are put out by a glittering fall of light rain.

‘Water.’

A joint intake of breath from her audience.

The girl moves her hands in a sweeping gesture and a gust of wind makes the incense whirl in the air in front of her. Then it forms a small vortex that soon dies away.

‘Air.’

She claps her hands. The slapping sound echoes through the gallery. When she spreads out her hands again, her palms are cupped around black soil.

‘Earth,’ she says. Suddenly, two frail green stems sprout from the black matter. ‘Wood.’

Both plants and soil change color, become shining silver.

‘Metal.’

She makes fists of her hands, then opens them. Glittering silver sand drizzles softly to the floor.

‘The Chosen One is able to control all six elements. She has a connection to this place. And her powers form the Key that can seal the portal.’

‘A key can also be used to open doors,’ an old woman says.

‘That is true,’ the girl replies. ‘And our enemies will try to steal it.’

‘How will they go about that?’ the old woman asks.

‘The demons cannot act freely inside our world, but instead they will persuade witches to take on tasks for them. They use demonic magic to bless any willing witch. Once blessed, he or she has only one goal. It is to kill the Chosen One; to take over her soul and her powers in order to open the portal and let the demons in.’

Ida realizes that is why Max killed Elias and Rebecka. He needed their powers to open the portal. He actually needed all the powers of the Chosen Ones.

‘For a while, the Chosen One will be protected from the scrutiny of the enemy,’ the girl continues. ‘But the closer we get to the time of the battle, the weaker the protection becomes. Then she will need your help. That is why we are going to teach you more about magic.’

A roll of parchment appears in her hands. As she unwinds it, six signs slowly appear on the initially empty surface. Six signs which are only too familiar to Ida.

‘The signs represent the six elements. They hold their own power,’ the guardians intone through the medium of the girl. ‘Your task is demanding, but sacred. You are charged with saving this world from annihilation. From now on, you are no longer individuals. You are a unit. You are the Council.’

The first Chosen One, Ida thinks. And the first Council.

The incense smoke grows denser around her, then turns into a deep fog. The voices fade away. Suddenly, Ida is back in the grayness. The place Matilda called the Borderland.

She looks around. She can’t pick up any movements or sounds, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that she is alone. The invisible things that chased her and Matilda before might be watching her right now.

‘Search for the lights,’ she whispers to herself as she starts running.

She tries to grasp what she has just heard, what it signifies.

The powers of the Chosen Ones combine to make the Key to the portal. The Key that will either shut it for good, or open it.

All six elements are required, which means that the Key is not complete. It hasn’t been since Elias died.

But then, how will they be able to lock the portal? And how could someone blessed by the demons open it? Isn’t everyone stuck?

No, that’s not possible, thinks Ida, because if it was useless, surely the demons would have given up? Actually, they should have backed off ages ago, the moment Minoo liberated Elias’s and Rebecka’s souls from Max. Then, what was the point of blessing Olivia?

Also, surely the guardians would have told the Chosen Ones that they didn’t have a hope of closing the portal? Why stay quiet about something that important?

How she wishes Minoo were here to explain everything.

Further ahead, Ida spots a new light in the grayness.

She focuses on it and throws herself out into the unknown.

Part 1

CHAPTER 2

Minoo opens her locker and is hit by a torrent of books, pens and notebooks. She manages to catch her biology textbook and Crime and Punishment, but all the rest clatters onto the floor.

As she bends over to pick it all up, her ears go hot with embarrassment. She listens out for someone snickering. But no one seems to have noticed. People are focused on something else entirely and everyone is talking about it.

… it’ll be such fun, something is happening at last, it’s been fucking ages … my big bro’s friend will fix us up with drink … please, can I borrow that dress … whatever, everyone’s going …

Minoo shoves her things back into her locker. Then she pulls off her backpack and starts stuffing it full to the brim.

‘Paaarty!’ someone roars.

It’s a senior guy who comes running along the hallway.

Minoo reminds herself that she never parties – everyone knows that. So, she’s never invited. It’s not that they hate her, but it simply doesn’t occur to them. Which is fine by her. Really fine.

She slams the locker door shut, turns and meets two cornflower-blue eyes.

Viktor Ehrenskiöld is wearing an immaculate pale blue shirt and a sand-colored cardigan. His ash-blonde hair is in perfect order, as always. And, as always, he is utterly odorless. No perfume of any kind. His body has no smell at all. It still bothers her.

‘Here, you dropped this.’ He holds out one of her pens.

‘Thank you,’ she says as she takes it from him.

Which amounts to their longest conversation for more than a month. Ever since their talk in his car, when he had declared that he was still loyal to the Council, she has avoided him and he has left her in peace.

Minoo tugs the backpack into place and braces the small of her back against the weight of the books.

‘That looks heavy,’ Viktor observes. ‘Are you working during the May First holiday?’

She doesn’t answer, only starts walking toward the entrance. He follows her.

‘Or are you going to his … little soirée?’

He nods toward Levan, who stands a bit further along the hallway, surrounded by senior guys. They all laugh and slap his back, which makes him have to push his glasses back up on his nose.

Levan. So she is not invited even when one of the other nerds in the class is throwing the party. It hurts more than she’s prepared to admit.

‘Well, are you?’ Viktor asks.

‘Why do you want to know?’

‘I’m just trying to keep our conversation going.’

‘Find someone who’s interested.’

‘Ouch.’ Viktor puts his hand to his chest in a theatrical gesture.

They are in the entrance hall by now and Minoo catches sight of one of the posters with Olivia’s photograph.

Underneath the picture it says: HAVE YOU SEEN OLIVIA HENRIKSSON? in big letters, and gives a contact number for the police.

Olivia’s face is covered in whitish foundation and framed by a cloud of blue hair. Her big brown eyes are shining. Her cheeks are full. This Olivia is someone very different from the ruined figure that Alexander picked up from the floor of the gym.

‘Minoo,’ Viktor says. ‘I realize that you and I disagree about a lot of things, but surely we can still talk to each other?’

Near the front door, Minoo stops suddenly and looks straight at him.

‘Of course we can,’ she says quietly. ‘Actually, there are quite a few things on my mind. Things I’d like answers to. Like, where is Olivia? Is she alive? Why are you and Alexander still in Engelsfors? You don’t even believe in the apocalypse, or that we are the Chosen Ones. You must have better things to do than staying here?’

‘You know that I can’t answer your questions,’ Viktor tells her.

‘Then we have nothing to talk about.’

He places his hand on her shoulder to stop her from leaving.

‘Do you truly believe that I’m your enemy?’

‘You are certainly not my friend.’

Viktor takes his hand away.

‘I see,’ he says. ‘You do mean it.’

It seems that his lie-detector magic has revealed to him just how much she means it, because he looks quite hurt. For a fleeting second, Minoo feels bad. Then she reminds herself that this is probably what he intended. She has no idea who Viktor really is, which part of him is truthful and which is manipulative. All she knows is that she has promised herself never to trust him again.

‘Just leave me alone.’ She walks outside and he doesn’t follow her.

The schoolyard is bathed in a pale, gray light that is bright enough to make her squint. Gustaf, wearing his green army jacket, is standing by the soccer goal. The wind ruffles his blonde hair as he smiles and waves at her.

Minoo’s body goes on high alert. Her ears go hot again. As she walks toward him, her wrists seem to buzz with electricity. She tries to stay calm; she must not let him see how she feels.

‘Hi there.’ Gustaf hugs her.

‘Hi, Gustaf,’ she says, and forces herself to let him go; otherwise she’ll start clinging to him like a koala bear on a eucalyptus.

‘You wanna go for a walk?’ Gustaf asks.

The clouds form a lid over Engelsfors. They walk past Lilla Lugnet. Coltsfoot and crocus glow along the shoulders. They walk past the lovely white wooden house with its decorative carved details where Adriana Lopez lived until only a few weeks ago. It looks deserted; Adriana stays at the manor house now. Minoo wonders what it is like for her. How she feels. She hasn’t seen her since she concealed all Adriana’s memories of what’s happened since she arrived in Engelsfors. Concealed them to protect Adriana from the Council.

They carry on southwards, in the direction of the canal. Gustaf talks about which universities he’d like to go to this autumn. He has applied for lots, but would prefer law school in Uppsala. Minoo tries to sound encouraging and to ignore her pain.

Uppsala. Stockholm. Lund. Linköping. Umeå. Göteborg. Every university on his list feels like another knife-cut. A few months from now, Gustaf will be off to one of these cities and no longer be part of life here. It will probably be just as well, of course. It’ll be best to let their relationship, whatever it amounts to, fade anyway.

As they pass Olsson’s Hill, Minoo’s eyes wander to the top, where there is a huge pile of firewood. People have dragged branches and boards and things up there to be burnt.

‘Are you coming along to watch the May Day Eve bonfire?’ Gustaf asks.

‘No …’ she begins, but is interrupted by a small, sharp explosion that makes her jump. She turns around and spots a group of middle-school kids just down the road, laughing loudly.

‘I thought kids of that age weren’t even allowed to mess around with fireworks,’ she says, realizing she sounds like a grumpy old man.

Gustaf is smiling.

‘Did you get scared?’

‘I simply don’t see the point.’

‘But didn’t you used to think blowing things up with bangers and crackers was the best thing ever. Like sandpit explosions. We did.’

Minoo shakes her head. Of course Gustaf had played with fireworks. And of course she hadn’t.

She thinks back to the Gustaf she used to watch at a distance when they were in middle school. During lunch break, he would always be outside, usually on the soccer field, and surrounded by his friends and fans. Minoo used to hide in the school library to escape having to go outside.

It makes her uneasy to think about Gustaf and herself as children and how totally unlike each other they had been. Because it reminds her that they are fundamentally different.

What do they truly have in common? Why be friends now? And that other feeling – what is it? Something she had better not think about. Whatever it is, it made Gustaf take her hand when they were sitting side-by-side on his bed, that evening before the Spring Equinox.

‘Are you coming to the party?’ Gustaf asks.

New bangs echo behind them.

‘Oh, do you mean Levan’s party?’ Minoo says, and realizes that it might come across as though she is pretending she has at least two tempting parties to choose between.

‘Yes.’

‘I have to work. And besides, I’m not invited,’ she replies, hoping that she doesn’t sound like a martyr.

‘Nobody will give a damn if you’re invited or not. I don’t think Levan has got a clue about what’s going to hit him. Maybe we ought to go just to stop it getting out of control.’

He rounds this off with a little laugh that sounds almost nervous. Minoo glances at him and realizes that he is looking at her sidelong.

Does he really, truly, want us to go there together? she wonders. Why would he? Is it a sudden inspiration that I’d be a fun person to go partying with? Or does he pity me because I’m about to be home alone on May Day Eve? Or, maybe he means exactly what he says. I’d be just right for a little party policing?

Or is it because anything might happen at a party?

Her ears are on fire.

‘Why do you think it’s going to get out of control?’ she asks.

‘Because it’s May Day Eve. Because hardly anyone knows Levan, or cares. And because it’s the first big party since the gym hall business.’

The gym hall business.

Olivia had joined in with Helena and Krister Malmgren and together they had planned to sacrifice the entire school membership of Positive Engelsfors. The idea was to use the collective life-force of hundreds of people to resurrect Elias from the dead. But what Helena and Krister didn’t know was that Olivia wanted to sacrifice them as well. As for Olivia, she didn’t know that the demons had deceived her completely. If she had succeeded with her mass murder, it wouldn’t have brought Elias back. It would have triggered the apocalypse.

But Gustaf is unaware of all that. He remembers as little of that night as all the Positives, who were wearing Olivia’s amulets. Minoo has seen to it that Gustaf’s memories are hidden deep inside him.

How she wishes that someone could make her forget.

She has seen Ida die, both through her own eyes and through Gustaf’s. She has seen far too much through the eyes of others. Through Adriana’s. And through Max’s.

When he pointed his gun at Linnéa in the dining hall. When he made Anna-Karin pick up the carving knife and press its edge to her. When he pushed Rebecka off the roof of the school. When he forced Elias to slash his wrist with the shard of mirror glass. When he made Alice, his girlfriend, leap from the window to be crushed against the rocks below because she no longer wanted to be with him.

Gustaf lightly touches her shoulder. His touch wakes her, allows the maelstrom of Max’s memories to disperse.

‘Hey, where did you go?’ he asks.

She would so much like to answer him honestly. She would like to tell him everything.

But the laws laid down by the Council forbid her to reveal to the general public that she is a witch, and Gustaf belongs to that general public. At this stage, the Chosen Ones must keep a low profile so they don’t attract more unwanted attention from the Council. Above all, Minoo worries about what the Council might do to Gustaf if he were to know.

‘Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just that there’s so much on my mind right now.’

‘Listen, maybe I didn’t sell the idea too well, but seriously, what do you think? What about the two of us crashing Levan’s party?’

Suddenly, Minoo really wants to go. Just for one evening, she would like not to be good and thoughtful and do the right thing.

She turns to Gustaf, but he has seen somebody and waves. Minoo looks in the same direction.

Isabelle Mohlin, Rebecka’s mother, comes walking toward them. Two little girls, Rebecka’s little sisters, hold on to her hands. She has cut her strawberry-blonde hair a little shorter, but she still looks so much like Rebecka. She smiles happily at Gustaf and, when she reaches him, gives him a big, warm hug.

‘Really nice to see you!’ she says as she lets go of him.

‘And you,’ Gustaf says. Then he bends down to say hello to Alma and Moa.

‘Hi,’ Isabelle smiles at Minoo.

‘Hi,’ she replies.

Is Isabelle taking note and recalling that Minoo and Gustaf were two of the people who were closest to Rebecka? Is she asking herself if they might not have noticed signs she herself had failed to pick up? Nonexistent signs, in fact, since Rebecka did not kill herself.

‘Mommy,’ Moa says in the slightly croaky voice of a small child. ‘Mommy, please, let’s go. I need a wee.’

‘Yes, we’ll go home in a minute,’ Isabelle tells her, and then turns to Gustaf. ‘I’ve got to feed everyone before going off to work. Thank God I’m not in the ER now, what with the May Day Eve fun and games tonight.’

‘Mommeee,’ Moa hisses, using her body weight to pull at her mother’s arm.

‘Yes, sweetie.’ Isabelle doesn’t take her eyes off Gustaf. ‘You know, don’t you, that you’re welcome to come around any time? Though I understand that you’ve got a lot to deal with now, in the run-up to the final exams.’

‘Only a few more tests to go, and afterward things calm down,’ Gustaf tells her. ‘When it’s over, you’ll all be invited to my reception.’

‘Sounds great!’ Isabelle says. ‘We’ll try to come – well, one of us at least. Bye for now. Bye, Minoo.’

Minoo and Gustaf watch as they walk away.

‘Gustaf, I can’t go out tonight,’ Minoo tells him. ‘I really must work.’

She notices how Gustaf’s gaze flickers. ‘If you’re sure.’

When they part, he doesn’t hug her. She wonders if that means anything. And hates herself for wondering and for wishing that he had.

Minoo unlocks the front door, kicks off her shoes, runs upstairs to her room and throws herself on the bed. Her thoughts feel like a thousand little hooks buried in her mind, tearing at it in all directions.

She holds her hands out in front of her. Releases her magic.

The black smoke starts winding itself around her fingers. It moves slowly; the trails of smoke merge, thicken and spread until darkness floats above her like black water.

There’s something wrong with you. But you know that already, don’t you?

You positively stink of magic, but it’s unlike any I’ve ever come across. Can’t fucking identify it at all. And I don’t like it.

The week after Ida’s funeral, Minoo went back to the Crystal Cave to ask Mona Moonbeam what she actually meant by all that.

‘I knew there was something weird about you even before we met,’ Mona told her while she applied another layer of frosted pink lipstick. ‘But I only grasped quite how peculiar the first time you turned up in the shop. Magic shows itself this way and that, but the foundation stones are always the same.’

‘You mean the elements?’ Minoo asked.

‘Yeah, I mean the elements,’ Mona said impatiently. ‘Thing is, you haven’t got an element, have you?’

No, Minoo thinks, as she follows the pleasing tracery of the smoke. Loses herself in it. No, I haven’t. I’ve got something much better.

Her mind goes silent. Her emotions quiet down. She feels as if she is dissolving.

She is no longer afraid of anything. Nothing can harm her now, not inside the smoke. Nothing hurts. No matter if the pain is outside or inside her, it cannot get at her for as long as the guardians’ magic pulses in her body and fills the space around her.

She had felt like this for the first time after she defeated Max. She had felt it when she hid Adriana’s memories. But it was after Ida’s funeral that she began to escape into the smoke. And perhaps this is the guardians’ greatest gift to her: a way to set her free from herself.

Minoo sits up, opens the drawer in her bedside table and takes out the Book of Patterns. The smoke twists lazily around her hands as she puts the book on the bed in front of her and starts turning the pages.

Every day since Ida’s death, Minoo has spoken with the guardians through the book. They rarely answer her questions, but it is a comfort that they are there.

Minoo watches as the elemental signs float across the pages, fusing and separating again to form new patterns.

We must show you something.

Minoo’s hands slide over the signs.

‘What?’ she asks.

Suddenly she feels dizzy.

The room rotates and her head feels light, as if filled with helium.

She is floating now, first just above her own body, then rising up and up toward the ceiling. She sees herself sitting on the bed, still with the book on her lap.

Next, she sees the roof tiles below her. She raises her head and looks out over the town. The sun is a glowing disc in the sky. Immediately below her is her house. The part of town where she grew up. She sees it all, watches as it grows smaller and smaller as she continues her slow rise.

She should be frightened, surely, but she isn’t. Instead, she observes Engelsfors from a bird’s perspective and registers everything with cool curiosity.

It is so beautiful.

From up here, the streets look different. Some run in smooth curves that she had never noticed while walking along them. She studies the forest that surrounds the town. The waters of the canal and of Dammsjön Lake glitter in the sunlight. The hospital. The manor house.

The silence is absolute. The town looks asleep; not a movement anywhere.

Except in the sky.

Now she is looking at Engelsfors High School.

Dark clouds have piled up behind the square brick building and are crawling up above the horizon from all directions, swelling and spreading over the sky.

But these are not clouds.

Black smoke pours soundlessly in over Engelsfors. Its tentacles stretch between the tall apartment buildings, and into the gardens of the houses, until the smoke has swallowed all the buildings, the entire town.

The sun grows pale and shrinks until it is a distant star. Then, finally, the star is extinguished. And Minoo no longer knows if she is ejected into space or left to fall.

She opens her eyes.

Dread floods into her; all the fear she had not experienced just moments before.

She gets up from the bed. Her legs tremble as she walks to the window and looks out.

And even though everything looks perfectly normal, she feels certain that what she saw was for real.

Only, it has not yet happened.

CHAPTER 3

Anna-Karin has been walking for several hours. She is inside both her own consciousness and the fox’s. They have seen buds on the trees and flowering meadows on sunny slopes. They have listened to birdsong, followed hare tracks and paths of other foxes, found a blackbird’s nest but left the eggs alone.

It is a perfect spring day, but restlessness tears at both their minds.

‘What are we looking for?’ she asks the fox.

During the last few weeks, she has asked that question of him, as well as herself, many times. The fox can’t give her any answers. All he knows is that they must carry on looking.

They are following a path that divides into two at an old, fenced-in quarry full of water. Its edges drop steeply down toward the still surface of the water.

The moss that grows on the rock walls is a glowing, almost fluorescent green.

The fox pads lightly up the winding left-hand path. Anna-Karin has to smile as she looks at his thick, fluffy tail, waving as he trots along.

She wanted to give him a name, but nothing seemed to fit. Later, she realized it was wrong to name him at all. She has no right, so now she thinks of him as the fox. Maybe the same feeling had made Nicolaus use ‘Cat’ for his familiar.

Anna-Karin tries to push thoughts of Nicolaus away. It has been more than six months since he left Engelsfors and he hasn’t once been in touch. Not even to say that he’s still alive. If he is.

The fox suddenly stops in the middle of the path and looks up at her with his amber eyes. His tail is still.

‘What’s the matter?’ Anna-Karin asks.

A sharp bark.

She walks toward him, but he doesn’t wait for her. Instead, he leaps off the path and runs off among the fir trees.

Anna-Karin stops and looks for him. Hesitates. There are many stories of people getting lost in these forests and most Engelsforsers feel insecure about leaving the paths. Anna-Karin would rather not, but the fox wants her to come with him.

His mind tugs at hers and she sees what he sees, glimpses moss rushing past underneath, tree trunks flashing by as he speeds up.

She steps off the path. For an instant she is surprised to sense the moss giving way under her feet instead of supporting her paws. Then she hurries in among the trees.

Somewhere ahead, the fox barks. Anna-Karin follows the sound until she spots him waiting near the huge root-plate of a fallen tree. He is staring intently at her.

‘What have you found?’ she asks him.

And then becomes aware of the silence. No birds sing. No wind stirs the pine branches above their heads.

Now she understands.

She walks around the root-plate and surveys the scene. She ought to be used to the sight, but still the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

The trunks of the trees have turned gray, the fir needles a dirty brown. They look completely dry. There are no leaf buds on the bare branches of the leafy trees. Yet another dead place in the forest. Since last summer, she has seen more and more of them.

The fox barks once, then pads on. Slowly. Watchfully.

Anna-Karin follows him.

The air feels heavy to breathe. The only sounds are the crackling noises under her feet. The trees seem to come closer. As if the forest were about to engulf her.

Only her imagination, of course. Everything is so still.

Far too still.

She jumps when the fox suddenly barks. He has stopped to look at something.

A blackbird is lying on the ground, belly up. Its beak is open a little, its wings spread out on the moss.

‘Poor little thing,’ Anna-Karin says.

She wants to get out of here. Now, at once. The fox sniffs the black feathers cautiously.

‘Come along,’ she says. And then she looks ahead.

The ground is so stony that it looks as if waves of moss are advancing on them. And now she sees all the bird bodies. All of them with wings spread out, as if they had fallen out of the air in mid-flight.

Anna-Karin takes a few steps. They are everywhere.

Magpies. Crows. Lots of small birds.

She stops by a buzzard lying on its back. She realizes from the markings on the inside of its wings that it is a young bird. And wonders for how long these birds have been lying here. The bodies look intact and show no signs of decay. With so many cadavers around, the air should be humming with insects.

The fox pads up to her side.

‘Come on,’ she whispers to him. ‘Let’s go home.’

She turns around and starts walking back, feeling safer the moment her feet are back on the path. Her cell phone pings and the fox’s ears point. She is relieved to see Minoo’s name on the display. Everything will feel better once she has told Minoo.

‘Something has happened,’ Minoo says as soon as Anna-Karin replies.

Anna-Karin has difficulty swallowing while Minoo tells her about the black smoke. How it ate up Engelsfors.

‘I can’t be here alone tonight,’ Minoo says. ‘Dad is staying the night in Fagersta. Can I come over to your place?’

Anna-Karin thinks quickly. Minoo has visited her home a few times and Anna-Karin has been as nervous every time. She can imagine only too easily what their house looks like to someone like Minoo.

Besides, Mom has been worse than usual lately. She has hardly moved from the sofa, only lain there, chain-smoking and moaning about things, with the TV on non-stop and much too loudly. This morning, when Anna-Karin asked her how she was, she just snarled: Why don’t you stop asking? You might as well: it’s not as if you’d ever understand anyway.

‘Or, do you want to come here?’ Minoo asks, and somehow it’s clear that she understands why Anna-Karin hesitates.

Suddenly, Anna-Karin feels irritated. Why should she feel ashamed? She’s not the same person as her mom.

‘No, it’s fine,’ Anna-Karin tells her. ‘Come over to us. I’ll give you a call when I’ve cleaned up a little.’

‘You don’t need to clean up.’

Anna-Karin has a vision of Mom’s ashtrays, the overflowing laundry basket in the bathroom. The dust balls everywhere, so large you can pick them up with your hands.

‘Actually, yes, I do,’ she says.

When she opens the front door, Peppar comes over to sniff her. He is always fascinated by the smell of fox.

The door to Mom’s room is closed. Anna-Karin takes a long, hot shower to try to wash away the sense of a catastrophe drawing close. She finds a pair of jogging pants and an oversized T-shirt in her room and pulls them on.

The lamp in the ceiling flickers. The electricity has misbehaved for almost a whole year. Just another reminder that the apocalypse is coming closer. She switches the light off to avoid having to see it.

In the kitchen, she soaks the dishes with dried-on food, then checks the contents of the fridge. She must ask Mom for money so she can shop. She feels bad about it because she’s well aware that they live on a knife-edge. And Mom doesn’t even pretend to look for a job any longer. Anna-Karin has no idea what will happen when their bank account is empty. Will she have to speak to social services? Will anybody help them?

She doesn’t want to think about it now. Instead she phones Granddad.

His phone rings out again and again, but no one answers. It worries Anna-Karin. Granddad should be in his room at this time. She is just about to give up when she hears a woman’s voice.

‘This is Taisto Nieminen’s telephone.’

‘Hi, I’m Taisto’s granddaughter. Is he there?’

‘He’s asleep. He has been a bit peaky today.’

Anna-Karin stares at the water in the sink. Its surface is turning greasy.

‘How is … is it something serious?’

‘Not to worry,’ the woman replies. ‘He is probably only tired. Why don’t you phone again tomorrow?’

Anna-Karin ends the call. In her head, she hears the echo of Mona Moonbeam’s prophetic words.

Say goodbye when you can. There is still time. Use it well.

CHAPTER 4

Linnéa sits back on the uncomfortable sofa in Diana’s room at the Engelsfors social services offices.

She wonders how many times she has been propped up somewhere or other here.

Then she wonders how many times she’ll come back here in the future.

Diana is sitting opposite her on a chair covered in some kind of felt. Jakob, the psychologist, is on Diana’s right and, on her left, is a plump woman whose name Linnéa has already forgotten.

They are like those three monkeys. Jakob hasn’t uttered one word so far. The plump woman has asked a lot of questions, but not listened to the answers. And Diana is avoiding looking at her.

This meeting is called a ‘network counseling session’ which is presumably meant to sound reassuring, but makes Linnéa think of a fish caught in a net, twitching as it tries to free itself.

‘Now it’s not long until your eighteenth birthday,’ Diana says. ‘The main change for you is that you can’t rely on the Mental Health Service for young people afterward.’

She glances at Jakob, who clears his throat.

‘That’s right,’ he confirms. ‘Afterward, adult psychiatry takes over. But, in your case, attendance is voluntary.’

They all look expectantly at Linnéa. She doesn’t need to read their minds to figure out that they hope she’ll say something thoughtful and mature.

‘I feel so much better now,’ she tells them. ‘About the panic attacks and all that.’

Jakob and Diana nod sympathetically. They believe her.

What she hasn’t told them is that Erik Forslund and Robin Zetterqvist forced her to jump off Canal Bridge and that, ever since, she hasn’t had a single night without nightmares. And whenever she sees anyone who looks like either of them, the panic comes rushing into her head.

She has no intention of telling Diana and Jakob what happened. For a start, they might not believe her. If they did, they would want to report the incident to the police and that is something she absolutely doesn’t want. Helena is dead, but both boys are still protected by the alibi she provided. Word would stand against word, and she doesn’t doubt for a second who would be believed. Erik and Robin are local hockey stars and their families belong to the pathetic social elite in Engelsfors. Linnéa is a known mental case, who wears bizarre clothes and whose father is one of the most notorious alcoholics in town.

‘It’s wonderful that you feel so much better,’ Diana says. ‘But, you know, it might be good to have that extra bit of support all the same.’

‘I’ll think about it, naturally,’ Linnéa lies.

What is the point of seeing a psychiatrist if you must hide everything that matters to you? Like, someone trying to murder you? Or having to save the world from a demon invasion?

‘That sounds sensible,’ Jakob nods.

‘Well, as we’ve agreed, for as long as you’re in high school, little will change otherwise,’ Diana continues. ‘You can stay on in the apartment, as before. And I’ll still be assigned to be your social worker. Unless you want to end our relationship, that is.’

She is smiling, but Linnéa notices the insecurity in her eyes.

When Minoo ripped the metal sign amulet from Diana’s neck, right here, in the department of social services, it was as if Diana woke up after a dream. Suddenly, she couldn’t understand why she had attempted to have Linnéa transferred into juvenile hall. A little later, she went on sick leave for several weeks. Linnéa has picked up that Diana thinks she was recovering from burnout syndrome. And she senses the terror Diana feels about not being able to trust her own mental stability. How she worries that her mind will suddenly break down – something that Linnéa sympathizes with.

‘No, that’s fine,’ she says.

Diana looks relieved.

‘Right. That’s agreed. Now, over to you, Anette. Can you explain a little about how you two will deal with things?’

The plump lady, Anette, talks very slowly, as if Linnéa is incredibly slow on the uptake. Plus, everything she says is so predictable that, after just a few words, Linnéa can work out the rest. She has to bite her lip not to fill in the final bits of sentences.

The thing is, she knows exactly how this will work out. Anette is supposed to manage her benefits and Linnéa has to apply on a monthly basis for her student loan. All should work smoothly for as long as Linnéa attends school. And behaves properly.

The arrangement will carry on until she passes her school finals.

After the finals, she’ll have to make it on her own. Or, she won’t make it at all and will have to sit through meetings like this for the rest of her life. The world is full of misfits who never accomplish anything apart from having kids, who in turn become misfits and losers too.

Just like Linnéa’s parents.

She tries to convince herself that she doesn’t have to repeat their mistakes. At least, she is positive that she will never ever have children.

It will be tough enough not to make a bleeding mess of her own life.

‘Is there anything you’d like to ask us?’ Diana asks at the end of the session.

There is nothing. It is over. Linnéa nods goodbye to the three monkeys and hurries away.

The streets of Engelsfors are unusually crowded. Lots of people carry clanking bags from liquor stores.

May Day Eve. People used to believe that this was the night when witches rode around on broomsticks or goats.

No wonder I’m feeling restless, Linnéa thinks.

She pulls out a pack of cigarettes from the top of her boot; as she lights a cig, she glances at the burnt-out building that used to house the Engelsfors Herald, then starts off again to get to Ingrid’s tiny shop, where she sometimes helps out. By the time she arrives, the glowing tip has reached the filter.

The faint ceiling lights are flickering. Ingrid sits behind the counter and smiles when she sees Linnéa.

‘Nice to see you,’ Ingrid says.

Her white hair is pulled back into an untidy bun with a pencil stuck through it.

‘I thought I’d pick up that dress,’ Linnéa tells her.

Ingrid leaves to look in the storeroom.

Linnéa stays, eyeing all the stuff: the shelves full of old toys, odd glasses and cups and collectors’ plates; the piles of video cassettes. She doesn’t recognize any of the titles on the back of the boxes, but the blood-spattered letters promise cannibals, zombies, blood and terror. This makes her think of Vanessa, who can’t get enough of horror films. She even enjoys the bad ones.

Linnéa would like to give Vanessa a call, ask her to come over tonight. They could watch a bad horror movie. Side by side, close together. Maybe share the same blanket. Then Linnéa could smell the scent of Vanessa’s hair, feel the warmth of her body.

Yes, even the thought of cannibalistic terror makes Linnéa fantasize about Vanessa. But it is May Day Eve. Vanessa is certain to have made other plans for tonight.

‘It’s a perfectly hideous old party dress but I’m sure you’ll be able to make something special of it,’ Ingrid says when she returns with an armful of black silk. It’s a lovely material, but Linnéa can see that sewing it will be a nightmare.

Ingrid puts the dress in a carrier bag and hands it to Linnéa, who thanks her and puts her hand into the bag to touch the smooth fabric.

‘I’ll be watching the bonfire later on,’ Ingrid says. ‘Who knows, there might be people there to chat to.’

She smiles and Linnéa wonders whether Ingrid is lonely. And if she is, does it trouble her? Maybe she likes things as they are?

‘Have a good time tonight, then.’ Linnéa hopes the words don’t sound as formal and unnatural as they feel when she says them.

‘And the same to you,’ Ingrid says. She turns the sign around to Closed even before the door has shut behind Linnéa.

Linnéa spots him as soon as she steps into the street.

Dad.

And he has seen her. There is no place to hide.

The last time they spoke, he was busy clearing out the furniture from the Positive Engelsfors Center. He had promised her that he wouldn’t start drinking again and that he would prove it to her daily. She examines him now, and sees no sign of him having broken that promise.

People do change sometimes.

That’s what Mona said in the Crystal Cave on the day of the Spring Equinox.

Although, given that Mona missed the fact that Ida would die that night, Linnéa feels less than confident about Mona’s prophetic gifts.

‘Hello.’ Björn stops. ‘Happy May Day Eve. Are you going to celebrate tonight?’

‘No. I never was that keen on the May Day thing.’

Does he even remember, she asks herself, all the May Day night piss-ups with his friends? Linnéa used to hide under her bed all night. She couldn’t sleep and, once, when she didn’t dare go to the bathroom, she had peed herself and stayed for hours in her wet clothes. When silence had fallen in the kitchen at last, she had tiptoed down to the laundry room in the apartment building, washed herself in the sink, changed her clothes and stuffed her old things into one of the washing machines. Then she had finally fallen asleep, with her head against the drying cupboard. She had been nine years old.

‘No, I suppose not,’ he says. ‘But look, if you don’t have any plans … I’ve got some ground beef at home, just right for hamburgers. Why don’t you come around?’

‘I haven’t eaten meat since I was twelve,’ Linnéa reminds him.

‘Sorry, I knew that, really. What about the veggie ones? The Ica store is still open.’

He looks pleadingly at her and tries hard to hide it at the same time. It tugs at her heart. And then she becomes angry with him for making her feel like that.

‘Last time we met, you said you wouldn’t demand anything from me,’ she says. ‘But I can’t help feeling that you’re pretty demanding.’

He nods. And looks devastated.

She has an almost irresistible urge to carry on. To cause him pain with her wretched memories.

But what scares her isn’t the temptation to hurt him; it’s her longing for him. Her feelings are pulling her in opposite directions and she feels the ground shift beneath her feet.

The first wave of panic wells up inside her.

‘I’ll be off now,’ she mumbles, and walks away before he has had a chance to reply.

CHAPTER 5

Vanessa stares at the flames as they lick at the twigs and branches, chipped boards, an old bedframe and whatever else has been hauled up to the top of Olsson’s Hill. The fire crackles and roars against the black sky.

The choir bursts into song:

Winter’s fury ends in our mountains, snowdrifts’ glimmer fades away and dies …

The conductor beats time with his arms in front of the small group of bony little old men, who are all wearing decaying dark suits. One of the old boys walked past Vanessa just moments earlier, giving off booze fumes so powerful he’d surely explode if he got too near the fire.

A gust of wind makes the smoke whoosh out over the crowd. Vanessa’s eyes fill with tears.

She will be reeking of bonfire smoke when she gets to Linnéa’s place. Stinking, when she turns up to tell Linnéa that … well, that she has been thinking … that she has kind of grasped … that she …

Vanessa curses under her breath. Smelling of smoke is clearly going to be the least of her problems.

Yes, I’ll join you! Greetings, joyous breezes, birds and countryside so fair …

Vanessa’s little brother Melvin squeezes her hand hard and sings along, though he knows neither the words nor the tune. Mom smiles to Vanessa. Ever since they left home, Mom has been going on and on about how pleased she is that Vanessa is keeping them company.

Vanessa was twelve when she was last up here for the May Day Eve festival. The year after that was the first time that she, Michelle and Evelina had gotten drunk together.

Ever since, it has seemed so much more tempting to spend time with her friends. Vanessa has agreed to meet up with Evelina at a party tonight, but has no intention of staying on.

Tonight is the night when she will face up to it. She will tell Linnéa that she is … that she …

The choir is reaching the end:

Blackbirds’ song among the pine and fir trees, water birds at play around the isles.

The old boys fall silent and acknowledge the applause with pleased expressions.

Melvin howls with delight when a burning branch falls to the ground in a shower of sparks. He tugs at Vanessa to get closer to the fire and she goes down on her haunches and puts her arm around him.

‘No way, darling. Stay put,’ she tells him.

‘It’s fire!’ Melvin shouts. ‘I want fire!’

Vanessa