The Key (3 page)

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 greyness; perspectives disappear and, seemingly, they’re getting nowhere.

Ida glances behind her. Only greyness.

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 greyness, as if it were thinning out. Beyond the grey 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 colours: 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 this lot is 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 bloody dream, but I’ll wake up soon and everything will be back to normal. I’ll be in the first year of senior 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 worst. 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 cross 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 colour, 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 realises 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 greyness. 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 greyness.

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

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 sniggering. 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 mate will fix us up with drink … pleease, can I borrow that dress … whatever, everyone’s going …

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

‘Paaarty!’ someone roars.

It’s a final-year guy who comes running along the corridor.

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-coloured cardigan. His ash-blond hair is in perfect order, as always. And, as always, he is utterly odourless. 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 rucksack 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 towards the entrance. He follows her.

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

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