‘The war begins, we send out the terror guards and just like that, we’re running the show.’
The other person grunted and their footsteps clacked away down the hall. She put her back to the wall and slid down it, eyes staring at a spot on her bed where the quilt was folded under. She leaned forward, pulled it free and twitched the quilt until it resembled something approaching straight.
They were going to start a war. Her laughter came in a burst that made her duck her head and glance around, as though the two outside would hear and come charging back. They had brought her here, not to learn, but to keep her out the way for whatever they were going to do. They were going to start a war.
What were terror guards? Her brain was spinning and she picked up her phone and typed in everything she could remember of the conversation. She texted it to Lara, not expecting an answer, but wanting her to know something was going on. Sister dimensions? So they did visit other dimensions. The handful of magicians Banner had talked about obviously still did it.
Were they doing what had happened in Skinny’s dimension? It sounded like it, but why were they starting a war? She’d said the second world war lasted for like, twenty years or something. Why would they do that?
She checked her phone. Three forty. She sighed and clambered back into bed. She was so awake, how the hell was she supposed to sleep after that? Her head hit the pillow and her eyes closed.
She woke this time with the bell, the same vomit-inducing sound that had signalled the beginning of lunch. She hadn’t minded yesterday but now it reminded her of the place she’d found Skinny. She could imagine they had those kind of bells everywhere, to let you go to the toilet or stop thinking. Bells were like whistles, they were just insulting, like, as though you can’t look at a watch and figure it out yourself.
She was halfway out of bed before she remembered what had happened last night. She touched her feet to the wooden floor, finding it pleasantly and unexpectedly warm, and stood. There was no mirror in here. They were going to start a war. She needed to stop them.
She almost vomited. She was going to stop them. That was very stupid of her. Almost as stupid as visiting Red Riding Hood and asking for her knife.
Did Seeker know about this? Is this why he wanted her to snoop around? He’d been so disgusted when she said she was a student here. Maybe he could help. She picked up her phone, pulled the card from her pocket and went to text. Then decided it would be easier to call.
She hated talking on the phone, except to Lara, but this time it was, perhaps, worth making the effort.
He picked up after two rings.
‘Seeker.’
‘Hi, this is the speaking clock. The time is we’re all screwed and everyone’s going to die.’
‘Scarlet, so lovely to speak with you.’
‘Don’t use that name.’
‘You think someone is listening?’ He sounded hugely amused.
‘Okay so, like, right now, I think someone is both listening and watching and probably monitoring my heart rate as well. Why did you ask me to snoop for you?’
‘Come now, you know why. This is my job, Joanna, it’s my livelihood. What might seem like a little piece of gossip to you may be worth considerable money to someone else.’
‘That someone being you, right?’
‘Does it matter who’s getting rich?’
She took the phone away from her ear and stuck her tongue out at it. ‘Okay, well, how’s this for a piece of gossip. The council are about to start a war. Then they’ll release these people called terror guards, who’ll, like, make the war go on and on until the Council have to take over and run the country and it’ll be all like that really crap movie, 1984 and stuff.’
She panted, hand on her hip. She was talking rather loud and she already knew these doors weren’t the best for soundproofing. There was silence on the other end of the phone.
‘Seeker?’
‘I’m here. How sure are you about this?’
‘I don’t know. I woke up at, like, stupid o’clock this morning and heard these two guys outside my door talking about it. They said they’d got me, well, they didn’t say my name, but they were talking about me, because I’m powerful…’
‘Who were they?’
‘It’s funny you should ask that, because my x-ray vision kicked in last night so I could see them perfectly I don’t know, not a clue. One of them sounded…’
‘Yes?’ He was impatient.
‘Not human.’
‘I see.’
‘Seeker?’
‘Yes?’
‘Can you help me?’
Silence. She could hear him breathing and something else which she realised was the sound of dripping water.
‘I’m not sure that I can. But some food for thought. If this is all in progress, what is the likelihood that Martin is being kept in Australia against his will? And what can you do that has made them bring you in?’
‘How is that useful?’
‘I’m not sure it is, but as you’re the one working for me, I’m not going to let it bother me overmuch.’
‘You complete—’
The phone went dead. She looked at it for a moment, then placed it carefully on the bed. Then she punched the wall. It was, in retrospect, a very silly thing to do. She moaned and doubled up over her bruised knuckles, dropping to her haunches and biting her lip. This was also foolish. In order to stand up, she fell forward onto her knees and crawled up the side of the bed.
Martin was being kept prisoner in Australia. It clicked then, the thing that had niggled her when she read his email. How had she not noticed at the time? He’d been using contractions, like, I’m instead of I am. She’d been with Lara long enough to be hyper-aware of things like that. Martin wouldn’t know how to use slang if it bit him on the arse.
She sighed and shook her head. This was, although it pained her to admit, almost certainly her own fault. On the plus side, she was here and knew what was going on, so that was good. For some reason.
Her stomach growled and she wandered to the canteen. She tried to simultaneously be casual while looking in all directions at once. It turned into one of those comedy movie scenes where she looked like she was trying to catch her own tail and look cool. She gave it up when she got to the canteen.
She grabbed some cereal and headed for the table where Sandra and Josh were sat. They gave her a smile and continued eating, as though having a social pariah in their midst was no big thing. She waited for either of them to tell her to go away and when they didn’t, she dug into her cereal trying not to smile stupidly.
‘So, when did you guys arrive?’
‘Yesterday.’
‘Me too. Umm, did your parents pay?’
Sandra nodded. ‘Yeah, mine were desperate, they’d have paid anything. Granddad was this big time magician but he was so in-debt he couldn’t send mum here. They’ve been planning on sending me for like, since forever.’
They both looked at Josh and he shrugged. ‘I’m on a scholarship.’
Alarm bells rang in her head and she leaned closer. ‘When did they get you?’
His eyebrows came together and he shook his head. ‘I got a letter a few weeks ago, but mum and dad applied years ago.’
‘Oh.’
She stared down at her cereal. She’d heard them, she knew she had and she knew they were talking about her. She turned, sitting on the bench with her back to the table and surveyed the canteen. The place was close to full, hundreds of students eating and talking. Anyone in here could be the ones they were talking about, but she had no way of finding them.
It didn’t matter. The Council would have a plan. Her cereals were getting soggy. She turned back and finished them, shoulders hunched as she waited for the inevitable hand to drop. It didn’t though and she found herself joining in with the other two, talking about what magic they’d seen and what they wanted to learn. It was only as she pushed her bowl away that she remembered she wasn’t going to learn anything.
It was like going to Legoland and finding all the pieces were stuck together with glue, or made from one big block with lines painted on. And the guys who ran the place were evil psychopaths. Actually, that may be true of Legoland as well. I mean, how long can you hang around and build Lego before something inside goes a bit funny?
She pushed herself up from the bench, mumbled something about seeing them later and wandered out of the hall. She needed a shower. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a shower, which was both terrifying and a teensy bit liberating. There was something about life or death situations that made grooming seem less important.
She tucked her nose under her arm and sniffed. Shower. She could save the world, or like, the freedom of the world, or whatever after she stopped smelling like a locker room.
A half hour later she emerged from the showers, wondering whether the fate of the world was all that important when she could have showers like that every morning. She dressed quickly and set off, heading back to the room of doors. The canteen was almost empty, the place deserted as people got ready for class.
She stood in the middle and thought back to her last time here. It was a guess, if she were honest, but she thought she’d chosen the right door. She pushed through and walked down the long corridor. The wood was darker here, classier, and the lights were lower. Kinda nice, kinda creepy.
She reached the end and pushed through the door and nodded. She was in the right place. The room was as big as she’d remembered, the four empty thrones sat at the far end. The last time she’d been in here students had filled the chairs that sat around the central circle. Now they were empty and she was one of the students.
Would she have sat while some poor girl was bullied? She didn’t want to answer that so she scurried around the side of the room, keeping to the plentiful shadows until she reached the door she’d pictured in her mind. This was where the four had come from, well the three of the four who bothered show up.
She cracked it open and voices wafted out. She paused, but they were too far away to hear and with a lurching in her stomach, she slipped into the corridor and took baby steps along the thick carpet. It muffled her approach and she got close enough to see three men sat around a table at the far end of the corridor.
It opened into a room that was part scary magician, part mum’s kitchen. There were flowers on the table. Actually, they didn’t come from either place. Mum killed flowers like the Champion killed, like, anything. There were pictures on the walls and carpet on the floor, but the table was huge and made of black wood that sucked in the light. Probably showed stains something rotten.
Something shoved her in the back and she stumbled and staggered into the room. The men whom she could only assume were the heads of the Council, the dreaded three, looked up from their breakfasts. The fourth came around from behind her and took his seat.
‘Well, well, our newest student has decided to explore a little. Tell me, Joanna, at what point in your lessons with Martin did he say it was okay to spy?’
Next Installment Friday 16th May
