The Key (67 page)

And Ludvig says to the judge: ‘Is this really relevant?’

And, one time, the judge responds: ‘Could the solicitor rephrase his questions so that they are less provocative?’

But another time he says: ‘I think it’s highly relevant to examine closely the relationships between the claimant and the defendants. It’s not like the claimant has a monopoly on the truth.’

That makes some members of the public titter.

The lawyer continues.

Is it correct, as reported, that Linnéa has been in a physical conflict with Erik Forslund before? Is that so? But only in ‘self-defence’? In other words, he attacked you without any provocation? Out of the blue? In the middle of the day and at school?

Has Linnéa ever seen things that don’t exist? Could it be that Linnéa has developed a psychotic condition? Or, perhaps, she is consumed by a lust for revenge? Or envy perhaps?

‘But in that case, why should Robin have confessed?’ Linnéa asks. Her voice is weak and a little breathless.

‘He hasn’t confessed,’ the lawyer says, and his brown eyes glitter. ‘He hasn’t confessed to anything.’

When Erik’s solicitor has finished with her, Robin’s representative will take over and, after him, Kevin’s.

And the question is: will there be anything left of Linnéa after that?

‘Hurry,’ Clara whispers.

Her voice comes out of empty air.

Minoo is grateful for the carpet that muffles the sounds of her footsteps, and tries to avoid looking at the grand portraits as she walks along the corridor. Adriana’s and Alexander’s ancestors seem to stand guard, ready to step out of their frames.

She tries the key in the lock of Adriana’s door. It works. She turns and whispers into empty space.

‘If someone comes, warn me, but then you have to leave at once. Please.’

Minoo opens the door and sneaks inside.

In front of her is what must be Adriana’s study. The curtains are drawn, leaving the room in a dull half-light.

Minoo takes a couple of steps into the room. The parquet floor creaks. She recognises the desk, which used to be kept in the locked room in Adriana’s house. The desktop is empty, apart from a letter knife of shiny steel and a couple of fountain pens in a rack next to the lamp.

Adriana’s books, mostly worn, leather-bound volumes, are arranged behind locked glass doors in the bookshelves. Two stuffed owls sit on top of the shelves. Their dead eyes are dull. When Vanessa and Minoo sneaked into Adriana’s house, there was a live raven as well. What happened to Adriana’s familiar after the court case in the manor? Was it thrown in the rubbish?

Minoo scans the room for the box but can’t see it anywhere. She opens a pair of double doors. The bedroom is on the other side. The blind is pulled down here. On the windowsill she sees the lamp, with the shade of dragonflies made of glass mosaic. The bed is neatly made.

Minoo opens the door to the next room.

The thick curtains are drawn and only admit a thin strip of light. A large, white rug covers most of the floor. It is furnished with a sofa, two armchairs and a table, placed in the middle of the room. The only object on the table is the box. It feels almost as if it has been waiting for her.

Minoo goes closer to the table while listening intently for any warning knock. The box is perfectly centred on the table. She lifts it, weighs it in her hands. It is surprisingly light. She tries to open it but the lid doesn’t shift, not a single millimetre. She shakes it gently, looks for another way of opening it, but finds nothing.

When she last saw this box, she and Vanessa had been terrified that they might be caught snooping among Adriana’s things. When the air began to tremble with a deep, thumping noise that made the whole house vibrate, they reached out for each other and held hands. They barely knew each other, but they knew that they needed each other.

Minoo is suddenly overwhelmed by a huge sense of loss. It is an almost physical sensation. For the first time, she
understands
. And she doesn’t try to close her eyes to the truth.

Her place is with the others.

She has made the wrong choice. An utterly wrong choice.

What Nicolaus said is true.
If we switch off our doubts and our emotions, and excuse ourselves by insisting that we are acting rationally
…
that is when we make some of our most dangerous decisions
.

In order to get on here in the manor house, she has had not only to switch off her critical mind, but also her empathy.

Still, Walter was right about one thing he said to her.

Eventually, one must stop messing around. For her, the time has come. What other time is there? By the time darkness falls over Engelsfors, she will know no more than now. She already knows what she needs to know. And, deep inside, she has known it all along.

Perhaps the Council’s circle also has a chance, but she believes in the Chosen Ones. The Chosen Ones will close the portal.

Minoo has the box now. If there is any more information to be had from Walter, she will find out about it; she will have to do as Linnéa suggested, take it out of his head and make him forget about it afterwards. It could be done during their assessment talk this afternoon.

She dreads the thought of attacking him. But surely she is stronger than he is? He keeps saying so himself.

A knock on the study door.

And Minoo panics.

She puts the box back on the table and dives down behind the sofa. Holds her breath; she hears nothing but the beating of her pulse.

Someone enters Adriana’s study. High heels tap on the parquet. The steps continue into the bedroom.

Minoo hopes that it is Adriana who has just come by to pick something up.

The heels come closer now. Then silence. Such complete silence that any sound, even breathing would be audible.

Minoo wants to put her hands in front of her mouth but doesn’t dare move a finger.

She was no good at hide-and-seek when she was little. The others always found her.

The heels tap along a few more times: three, four, five, then silence.

‘I see you,’ Adriana says.

* * *

Anna-Karin comes to gradually. She glances out through the window. Yellowing fields against a backdrop of forest. The car is gliding softly, silently along the road. She has been lying slumped in the passenger seat and the seat belt is cutting into her belly.

She sits up straight, feeling completely alert. She starts looking for her mobile and then remembers that Alexander has got it.

‘You’ve only got yourself to blame,’ he says without looking at her. ‘The power you fired off in my direction was very strong.’

Linnéa.

Anna-Karin checks the time on the dashboard clock. The hearing has been going on for two hours.

They are still driving along a motorway and the speedometer needle is steady at 110 kilometres an hour.

How far have they travelled and where to? What can she do?

She must do something.

Alexander was prepared for her attempt to control his mind. But he probably doesn’t know about her new physical strength. What if she struck his head, rendered him unconscious? Or grabbed the wheel and forced the car off the road?

She has no idea. They might end up in a ditch. Or swerve into the opposite lanes and crash into oncoming traffic.

She must not risk the lives of innocent people.

Anna-Karin looks out again.

Alexander drives in the outside lane.

Would her new strength protect her if she leapt out?

She hadn’t been hurt at all when she fell in the gym hall, or when she cracked china with her hands. Not even when she moved the heavy, sharp-edged boulders in the caves.

But does any of that compare to throwing yourself out of a car at 110 kilometres per hour?

Anna-Karin glances at Alexander. His eyes are fixed on the road. Every passing second she is taken further and further away from Västerås. She must do it now.

She cautiously undoes the safety belt.

‘What are you up to?’ Alexander says as he turns to have a look.

Anna-Karin fumbles for the door handle, pushes the door open. The noise of tyres against tarmac becomes loud and cold air rushes in. Alexander grabs her shoulder but she releases her strength and jumps out with her arms around her head.

She hits the ground so hard that the air is driven out of her lungs. She rolls across the tarmac. The world rotates. Then all is still.

Anna-Karin lies on the verge. She draws breath once, then again. Becomes aware of a burning pain in her right arm and hip. She hardly dares to look, afraid of seeing torn skin, or a stump of her broken bones protruding from bloody flesh.

She sits up. Her duffel coat and the sweater underneath it are both ripped. Her skin is red but there are no open wounds anywhere. No blood. No broken bones.

Anna-Karin hears a car door slam. Alexander’s car has stopped a way ahead. The rear lights glow, the engine is ticking over. He is coming towards her and has already covered half the distance between her and the car. She must hurry.

When she stands, her legs are shaking so much she almost falls over. A few cars drive past but none of them stops.

Alexander will reach her soon.

Her power has protected her. Now, it must come to her aid again. She mustn’t hesitate, or worry about damaging him. Alexander shall not stop her from doing the right thing. Alexander, who tried to get her convicted in the Council’s trial; Alexander, who has threatened to kill her if she tries to help Linnéa.

He is close to her now.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing now?’ he says.

Anna-Karin hits him in the chest with the flat of her hand and he flies backwards. He lands in the tall grass of the field.

She runs to the car, hoping she will remember enough from the practice sessions with Grandpa on the farm. Alexander’s car is an automatic. She releases the brake and pushes the gear lever to Drive. And accelerates. Nothing happens, and she almost panics before realising that the handbrake is still on. She releases it and the car shoots away.

She glances in the rear mirror and just has time to see Alexander get up.

The car is so large it feels like driving a tank. The engine is responsive and she nearly panics again when she sees that the needle has jumped to 150. She eases her foot back off the accelerator.

The palms of her hands get sweaty as she looks for an opportunity to turn around. Scared that the wheel will slide out of her hands, her grip tightens.

A glance at the clock makes her increase the speed again.

* * *

Minoo gets up, supporting herself against the back of the sofa. Adriana observes her, and then looks at the box. The box that no longer stands perfectly placed in the exact centre of the table. It is only a few centimetres out, but Minoo knows it’s enough for Adriana to see that it has been tampered with.

‘I didn’t find my keys the other day,’ Adriana says. ‘I knew exactly where I had put them. Then, a little later, they turned up again in the right place.’

She looks at Minoo.

‘Was it only the box you planned to steal?’

‘I didn’t plan to steal anything.’

Adriana looks at her carefully. Minoo forces herself not to start blabbing. Mustn’t say stuff like,
I got lost, door happened to be open, I’d come to look for you and just as you came in
,
I thought I saw something behind the sofa and must have jagged the table so the box moved, what box anyway? I don’t know anything about any box
…

‘I don’t care why you want it,’ Adriana says. ‘You can have it. But I want something in exchange.’

Minoo stares at her and tries to think ahead.

‘I’m bound to the Council,’ Adriana continues. ‘And not only through the oath.’

She unbuttons the top two buttons on her dress. Minoo wants to say that it’s unnecessary, that she knows about the scar already, but how would she explain that to Adriana?

‘I broke the laws of the Council when I was young and this was my punishment.’

Her tone is calm, explanatory, as she points with one of her long, slender fingers to the burn scars where the sign of fire has been branded into her skin just below her left collarbone.

‘Ever since, I can’t defy the will of the Council. If I try to escape, they’ll locate me as easily as if I had a built-in radio transmitter.’

She buttons up her dress.

‘You can manipulate magic. You did it for Clara. Please … I can’t say it explicitly. I truly
can’t
. But … do you understand what I want?’

Her eyes are full of desperation. And Minoo does understand.

‘Walter said he didn’t need me to be there for the assessments after all,’ Adriana says.

‘He’ll be busy all day. And Alexander isn’t here … Please, Minoo. You can have the box. Take it.’

‘It’s not about the box. I want to help you. I truly do,’ Minoo says, thinking:
You’ve no idea just how much
. ‘But I’ve never done anything like this before. And I don’t know if I can.’

Adriana comes closer to her.

‘I’ve never met anyone with powers like yours.’

She pauses, then starts again.

‘You’re a young witch with exceptional powers and born in Engelsfors.’

She looks pleadingly at Minoo.

‘You are the Chosen One, aren’t you?’

Minoo sees the frail hope in Adriana’s eyes. Must she kill it? Is she even capable of doing that?

‘Yes,’ she says. ‘I am Chosen.’

Adriana puts her hand over her mouth. She looks as if Minoo has just returned from the dead. Which, in a way, she has, because Adriana’s dream is alive again now. Her dream of finding the Chosen One. The dream that once lit a spark of hope and life inside her and helped her on the way to find her true self. That was before Alexander took everything from her again.

‘Then I was right?’ Adriana says breathlessly. ‘Did I … did I find you?’

‘Yes,’ Minoo says, speaking through tears. ‘You found me.’

‘Oh my God,’ Adriana says.

She sits down on the sofa and leans her head in her hands.

Minoo watches her. Adriana now knows for certain that she has been deceived. Minoo can’t think what to say and is not sure that she should say anything.