They hadn’t invited her back, but she knew how to find them. If Scarlet was desperate to join the Council, she could always head back down under the Gallery and bang on the door. She was fairly certain they’d remember her.
Mum had gone biccies, completely ballistic for a minute, or five, then hugged her and cried a bit, and made her some tea, and pizza, so that was alright. Martin had stayed, at least long enough for a shower and for mum to dig out some of dad’s old clothes, before sneaking out. He was remarkably good at that, for a big guy.
Now the computer screen was shining brightly in the dark of the room, her hands poised over the keys as she tried to find the words to describe what had turned out to be only twelve hours. She slept for another twelve, which made it the weekend. Tumblr time, yay.
Nothing. She couldn’t even think of where to start, let alone all the words that would come before the end. It was fine, maybe the world wasn’t supposed to know, but somehow, the Harry Potter pics and glorious poems felt just a little less important. How could something so amazing and frightening and crazy happen to her and she not tell everyone?
Martin had said she shouldn’t tell people about the magic. She’d seen enough to know he was right, completely right. Maybe, she could tell a story, like, pretend it wasn’t her. That would work.
It began when I got home from school and mum was missing…
That was as far as she got before her in-box pinged, and the little message appeared in the corner of the screen. She got maybe one email a year that didn’t come from Amazon, or a band mailing list, so she clicked on it, story forgotten.
“From: Martin
Subject: Why
Dear Scarlet
I am proud of you. We have spent little time together but already I see the makings of a powerful magician. Well done.”
God, he wrote even more awkwardly than he spoke. This must have been agony for him.
“I also need to thank you, properly. I thought perhaps I could begin to do that by telling you, truthfully, why I was down with the Council, and why they saw fit to torture me.”
She rubbed her hands together, eyes lighting up, then glanced guiltily around the room.
“I was married for seven years. We fell in love when we met, at the Council. Her name was Arpita, and she was everything.”
Scarlet took a deep breath, throat closing up.
“Three years ago, Arpita disappeared. I came home from my work at the Council, and she was gone. I searched. I talked to people, I did everything I could to find her, but there was nothing, no trace. After eighteen months, I gave up my main efforts. I hated myself for it, but it was destroying me. Instead, I dedicated myself to helping others. I left the Council and gave away everything, determined to strip away everything I had been, and focus only on what I could be.”
That explains the smelly homeless thing.
“But I couldn’t forget. I kept my ears and eyes open, and a few months ago, I heard a rumour that the Council had something to do with her disappearance. I broke in, and stole the minutes of their meetings, the information that would tell me. Within them, I found a discussion, in which Arpita was described as ‘dangerous’, and ‘potentially traitorous’.
At this point, I should say that I have no excuse for my actions. I entered the Council and accused them of killing her, and then attacked them. Luckily, their defences were far stronger than I had anticipated, and they stopped me hurting anyone too badly.
Once they had restrained me, they tried to explain that although they had indeed had that discussion, they had not acted upon it, for they valued her far too much. I left, embittered and disbelieving, and traveled, first to the Underworld and then on to the sisters, in my hopes of finding the truth.
I trust not the Underworld, nor those who dwell there, but they pointed me to the sisters, and for that I am grateful. The sisters told me that my answers would be found in the Council, that they have the truth. I returned there again, only for them to entrap me, and accuse me of stealing the minutes.
I refused to speak, which is when the torture began, followed blessedly soon, by you.
I would like to continue your lessons, but I must warn you that until I discover the truth of what happened to Arpita, I will continue to search.
I hope this message goes some way in satisfying your curiosity and explaining my behaviour. Should you wish to continue to learn with me, then please call whenever you wish.
Yours
Martin”
Scarlet leapt off the bed, dumping the computer to one side and grabbed her coat. She wasn’t ever going out without her coat, and wallet, and phone, and oyster, and maybe a knife of some sort, ever again. She scurried down stairs and pulled open the front door.
Two men were there, one broad and smiling, the other with a ratty face. She shrieked and slammed the door closed…
