Ravensborough (3 page)

‘There is that element, true,’ he agreed. ‘But because of that, a lot of people make the mistake of not taking them seriously. When people think of Avalonia, they think that we’re all just as you described, and that affects the way we do business abroad. Also, messing around with the occult is a bad idea. And groups of Pagans, in organisations such as this one, want to overthrow the current Rationalist government and rule the country for themselves. Some groups have no problem with using violence in order to achieve this aim. So yes, Scarlett. They can be very dangerous indeed.’

‘What are Rationalists?’ I asked.

‘Rationalists, like me, believe in this world only. Some believe in an afterlife, but we don’t believe in magic, superstition and the so-called "unseen world.". Rationalists live in certain designated suburbs, and Pagans live in theirs. After nightfall, we aren’t allowed into each other’s areas. Some places, such as the city itself, are neutral.’

‘It’s important that you stay in Rationalist or neutral areas,’ said Mum. ‘They’re the safe areas.’

‘So Chesterfield is Rationalist?’

‘Yes. Most of Ravensborough this side of the Starling-Bird Bridge is Rationalist.’

It was a lot to take in and I realised that I didn’t know very much at all about my new home country.

After dinner I went up to my room and switched on my laptop. While I was waiting for it to gurgle to life I opened another packing box. At the top of it were a few books on archaeology which I lifted out and placed on a shelf. Archaeology was a geeky interest of mine. I liked the detective work, how archaeologists used artefacts as clues to piece together the past. Underneath the books lay a photo of me with my arms around Lindsay. It had been taken a few months ago at a small gig where Sam’s band had been playing. I put the photo frame on the windowsill. I wondered what Sam and Lindsay were doing now. When I’d told Sam that I was going to move to Avalonia with Mum, he hadn’t been too happy. We’d been together for around a year, he’d argued, how could we be separated now? I’d told him that it wouldn’t be forever. I was planning to go back to Dublin for college, and hopefully I could fly over to see my friends after Christmas. But it was only September now...

When my computer was ready I connected to the internet and opened my email account. I had two emails, one from Sam and one from Lindsay, both filling me in on what was happening in their lives. I replied quickly to both and opened another tab. I typed ‘Avalonia’ into the search bar. The search came up with some results that I didn’t really understand, and pages on the country itself. I remembered looking at pages like this before, but I had skimmed over them, too upset about leaving to really take much in. I certainly hadn’t read anything about Rationalists.

Eventually I found what I was looking for. It appeared that, during the European witch trials between 1500 and 1800, many people who were persecuted didn’t practice witchcraft, but many who fled admitted that they did. Once they were safe in Avalonia they practiced their craft openly. In the nineteenth century, however, lots of European countries refused to trade with Avalonia because they thought that it was the Devil’s Island, a place full of black magic and deception. A group of influential businessmen were anxious to downplay the Pagan element in Avalonia so they could make money from trading with the rest of Europe. They got together and came up with a plan to isolate Pagans by pushing them into their own areas, banning them from having jobs in the government, the police force or the army. Nowadays, Pagans were permitted to hold public office, but so much enmity had grown up between the two groups that they were now in constant conflict. Fringe terrorist groups had broken out on both sides desperate to have control over Avalonia. These groups were responsible for rioting, killings and general disorder which explained why the country had an obvious army presence. The army checkpoint that we’d came through on the night that we had arrived suddenly made a lot more sense.

It looked like fitting in here was going to be more difficult than I thought.

Finally, the first day of school came along. I’d been looking forward to starting ever since I’d arrived. Since I knew nobody here except Mum and Rupert, my social life was non-existent. I was fed up sitting at home looking at the walls with no one to talk to and nothing to do, trying not to break any of Rupert’s perfect and expensive possessions. I’d done a lot of reading, but there was only so much of that that I could do. The only interaction I’d hand with a person my own age since I’d left Dublin two weeks ago was talking to that cute but crazy guy at the protest stall.

When the day finally came, I found that I was a lot more nervous than I had expected. It was important to make a good first impression, and I wasn’t good at doing that. Sam and Lindsay had been the outgoing ones in our group of friends, fun-loving and always ready to meet new people. I was quieter, and tended to blend into the background. I couldn’t even reassure myself that at least I looked well: there was no way on earth that anyone with red hair could look attractive in a maroon uniform. My only consolation was that on my way to school I could at least cover the whole thing with my big padded jacket.

When I walked outside, the first thing I saw was a crowd of black crows perched in the trees. The combination of the birds and the overcast sky made me feel like I was in the middle of an emo music video. It would be quicker for me to take the underground to Bessborough, but I knew that the hot airlessness of it would exacerbate my nerves. Hopefully, the walk to school would calm me down and eradicate the butterflies that were currently fluttering around my stomach.

The wind was blowing from the north, icy and cold, and hands were still numb despite my heavy wool gloves.

The school was a two storey red brick building and the architecture was gothic revival, all arches and points. The main entrance was a set of double wooden doors, with a plaque above declaring that the building had been constructed in 1842. The outside was a bit grubby. The grounds of the school were teeming with girls and boys my own age, all of whom seemed to know each other. They gathered in groups under a concrete shelter that went some way to lessening the strength of the icy north wind.

I didn’t know where to go. I pulled my timetable out of my schoolbag to see where I needed to go for my first class. A sudden gust of wind pulled the sheet of paper out of my hand and it blew away, over to the other side of the yard. Some of the kids started to laugh as I ran after it, cursing myself for being such an idiot. A boy around my age picked it up, as I turned a shade of red that matched my uniform almost perfectly.

‘So you think this school is so great that you chuck your timetable away on your first day?’ he teased, still holding the sheet. ‘Well you’ll fit right in here’.

‘Is it that obvious that it’s my first day here?’ I asked. There were hundreds of students here; I hadn’t thought that I stood out that much.

‘In a word, yes,’ he answered, raising an eyebrow at me.

‘Stop being such a jerk,’ said a small, elfin looking girl standing beside him. Her hair and eyes were a deep brown, and her skin had a Mediterranean olive tinge. The girl grabbed the timetable out of his hand and had a look at it. ‘Oh cool, you’re in my year. I’m Catalina, but everyone calls me Cat. This joker is Ben’. She put her hand out, and I shook it.

‘Hey, I’m Scarlett, I’ve just moved here from Ireland’.

‘Ireland, eh?’ said Ben, leaning against the shelter wall. His hair was light blonde, just a little bit long, as if he’d let it grow too much between cuts. His eyes were a cold ice blue. I couldn’t make up my mind whether he was good-looking, or whether he slightly unnerved me. Possibly both. ‘How are you finding Avalonia?’

‘Cold’, I said, wrapping my scarf tighter around my neck. ‘Please don’t tell me it gets worse than this.’

‘Much worse, we’re way tougher up here than you guys down south’, said Ben, breaking into a smile for the first time. He nodded to Cat as the bell rang. ‘See you after school.’

Cat looked wistfully after Ben as he loped off into the distance. Then she picked up her bag, slung it over one shoulder, and linked her other arm through mine. ‘Come on, I’ll show you around.’

School turned out to be much less daunting than I’d thought it would be. Cat knew just about everyone, and introduced me with a good deal of pride, pleased to have gotten to know the new girl first. The first day wasn’t very taxing; the teachers mostly just gave out lesson plans outlining what we would be covering during the year. Despite the differences between here and home, I was fairly confident that I'd get decent grades if I stuck at it.

Cat spent most of the time that we weren’t in glasses grilling me about my life.

‘Do you have a boyfriend?’ Cat asked as we made our way to maths class.

‘Yeah, I do.’

She nodded in approval, obviously glad that I wasn’t going to be any competition for the Bessborough guys.

Lunchtime passed in a myriad of new faces and names that I forgot almost as soon as I heard them. Cat introduced me to a girl called Mei. She was calmer and more easygoing than Cat, who I was beginning to discover was a bit intense.

When school ended I walked out with Cat. I noticed that above the doorway was printed in small, clear letters ‘Let the Light of Thought Combat Dark Superstition’.

Ben was waiting for us at the gate, leaning against the wall and looking at us with appraising eyes.

Cat shook her jet black hair back from her face and put it in a bobbin. ‘You walking this way?’ nodding in the direction that her and Ben were heading.

‘No, I’m up the other way, in Chesterfield. ‘

Ben let out a small whistle. ‘Someone’s got money.’

‘Correction, someone’s stepfather has money,’ I pointed out. I decided to try and get some perspective on Rationalists from someone other than Rupert.

‘This may be a stupid question,’ I asked hesitantly. ‘But are you guys Rationalists?’

The two of them started laughing.

‘What?’ I asked, blushing.

‘I don’t know how much you hear about Avalonia in Ireland, but you know the way we have a big problem with Pagans in this country?’ Ben answered.

 I nodded, even though I knew very little about it. I didn’t know until my talk with Rupert the other night that it was considered a ‘problem’. But then, world politics never interested me much.

‘Well, the opposite of those, those who don’t believe in the occult and other ridiculous things, are called Rationalists,’ he explained.

‘Because we think rationally,’ Cat chimed in.

‘This side of the Bridge is Rationalist. The centre of the city is mixed, you need to be careful what parts of it you go to. Pagans live on the other side of the hills, in the mountains’, Ben expanded.

‘Oh ok. I had never heard of all that before yesterday,’ I admitted. ‘What are the army checkpoints for?’

‘Oh, Pagans aren’t allowed in Rationalist areas after dark’, said Cat. ‘Thank God, or we wouldn’t be able to sleep at night,’ she added drily. ‘See you tomorrow, Scarlett.’

All of what they’d told me backed up what Rupert had said the night before. I guessed that it wasn’t all in his head then.

 When I got home there was a large white pick-up truck parked in the front driveway. The sides were encrusted with so much mud that I guessed it hadn’t been cleaned since it had been bought in...I squinted at the registration plate. 2004. Rupert must have a client over or something, I guessed he was working from home today.

I let myself in. I could hear Rupert laughing in the dining room along with the sound of another male voice. Deciding not to disturb him, I walked into the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. God knows I needed something to warm myself up. Would I ever get used to this weather?

When I walked into the kitchen I came up short. There was a girl sitting at the counter reading a magazine, ink black hair spilling onto her shoulders. Her skin was so white it was almost translucent and her heavy outdoor coat hung on the back of her chair. She looked up when I came into the room and I saw that her eyes were green. They weren’t like ordinary green eyes though, they were a deep conifer colour – I’d never seen anybody with eyes that shade before.

‘Hi,’ I said walking over to the breakfast bar where she was perched. ‘I’m Scarlett, Judith’s daughter.’ She held my gaze for a second before her face broke into a large grin.

‘I’m Aradia, Rupert’s niece.’

‘Oh, I didn’t know he had a niece,’ I said conversationally.

The smile immediately vanished from her face and she looked sad, distant even. ‘No, I suppose you wouldn’t.’

I didn’t know what she meant so I ploughed ahead with more small.

‘So, how come you’re here this afternoon?’

‘My dad wanted to see Rupert. I’m not exactly Rupert’s favourite person though, so I decided to stay out of the way,’ she said darkly.

This was strange. Rupert might not win any awards for charm, but he was a nice person. I was curious to find out why they didn’t get on, but I decided not to ask: it wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you usually asked somebody you’d just met.

‘So, you just came here from Ireland, right? Are you getting used to the place?’ she asked.

I sat down opposite her. ‘A bit, but I’m only beginning to realise just how clueless I am. I didn’t know what a Rationalist was until yesterday, which is apparently a pretty big deal here.’

Aradia laughed. ‘It’s an important thing to know, yeah. Especially, you’re living in the house of someone who gives a lot of his money to a big Rationalist political party. And when you live in a Rationalist area.’

‘I think that’s why the people in my class found it so funny. Do you live near here?’

Aradia smiled and shook her head slowly. ‘No. Nowhere near here.’ She pointed to the earphones of my mp3 player that were peeking out over the top of my jacket. ‘What are you listening to?’

‘It’s a Scottish college band. My friend’s brother is in college in Scotland, and he got us to check them out. They’ve got a kind of grungy sound.’