The Circle (Hammer)

35



VANESSA IS STANDING in the lobby of the bank, leaning against a high table on which small cardboard stands of fliers ask whether she’s considered getting a credit card, or if she’d like to borrow money for a new lawnmower and even her dream house.

She’s promised Minoo to follow Nicolaus into the bank without his knowledge. Of course the stubborn old fool refused to accept the help he obviously needs, so she’s been told to make herself invisible and keep an eye on him.

And he’s supposed to be our guide, she thinks, glancing at him as he stands there, staring at his number slip. He’s wearing a heavy, moth-eaten winter coat that looks as if he bought it at a flea market.

But she has to admit she’s excited. She’ll be the first to see whatever’s in the mysterious safety deposit box. Further more, she likes going behind the principal’s back. They had a class with her on Sunday, too, and it was no more fun than being in school. You might expect a course in magic to be thrilling, but they just sat there staring into the Book of Patterns with their mini spyglasses. All they’d got from it was headaches. It reminded Vanessa of the digitalised dot images in which you’re supposed to be able to see 3D figures. She can never make them out.

Vanessa is watching the bank staff typing silently or speaking to customers in low, trust-inspiring voices. Everyone working here is neat and well dressed, and their footsteps whisper along the wall-to-wall carpeting. Vanessa tries to imagine what it would be like to work here and is instantly bored.

Her mother actually dated a guy who worked here. Tobias. He was as tedious as he was smug. When he met a rich girl from Gothenburg he’d dumped her without a second thought, and Vanessa had had to comfort her and hide the wine box.

Eventually, when her mother had been sitting at the dinner table, snivelling again, Vanessa had lost patience and told her off – maybe she should meet a guy who made her happy, she’d suggested. Her mother had just looked at her with bloodshot eyes and blubbered that Vanessa didn’t understand. ‘Love hurts,’ she said. ‘Or it isn’t really love.’

Vanessa refuses to believe that. If it was true, there wouldn’t be any point in being with someone. You might just as well screw around without ever having to wash someone else’s dishes or whine about how he doesn’t understand you.

That’s probably why she doesn’t want me to be with Wille, Vanessa thinks. She’s jealous because we’re happy together.

Vanessa’s anger builds again. She and her mother still haven’t spoken. She hasn’t even left a message on Vanessa’s mobile. Vanessa is sure that Nicke told her that it’s better if she doesn’t get in touch – she can just hear him saying that Vanessa has to ‘learn that her actions have consequences’.

Vanessa has no intention of calling either. There’s no way she’ll let them win. Melvin’s the only one she misses. Melvin, who was crying when she left.

A loud electronic yelp announces the new number on the screen. Nicolaus looks around, clearly confused. He’s next, but he has no idea where to go – as if the blinking number above the only free teller didn’t offer a clue. He examines his ticket as if he expects to find the answer there, and Vanessa sighs. She has to stop herself going up to him and giving him a shove in the right direction.

A girl with long black hair is standing at the free counter. She’s attractive and knows it. Unlike the other bank zombies, she’s irritated, which, as far as Vanessa is concerned, is to her credit. She beckons to Nicolaus impatiently.

‘It has the number one,’ says Nicolaus, when he walks up to her.

‘What?’

‘The deposit box to which this key corresponds. It has the number one. That was the information I was given this morning when I telephoned.’

‘You mean you have a safety deposit box?’ she asks.

‘That is what I have been told.’

She smiles professionally, but not one millimetre wider than necessary, while Nicolaus signs a few papers. ‘This way.’

Nicolaus goes around the counter and Vanessa follows him. She hopes her shoes aren’t leaving traces of melted snow on the carpet.

They walk along a corridor until they reach a pair of solid steel gates that the black-haired woman unlocks. ‘It’s just one flight down,’ she says. ‘I’m going to lock you in.’

Nicolaus looks horrified.

‘Use the phone to call us when you’ve finished,’ she says.

Nicolaus walks down the steps cautiously. Vanessa just has time to slip in behind him before the bank employee shuts the gate so hard that the metal bars ring.

The walls of the vault are covered with small rectangular numbered doors in dark-grey matte metal. Vanessa wonders about the money, jewellery and dirty secrets hidden in the boxes. Deeds revealing hitherto unknown siblings and illegitimate children. Illicit photos and love letters.

It’s silent. There’s a table and chair in the middle of the room.

Nicolaus scans the deposit boxes. At the very top corner there is a small door with ‘1’ on it. He walks up to it determinedly and unlocks it.

Vanessa backs away when he pulls out the box, carries it to the table and sets it down. When she sees the shiny metal rectangle she is suddenly nervous. Nicolaus takes a step back and stares at it. It’s obvious that he’s also afraid of what the box might contain. In the world where Vanessa is now living, it might be a big black hole that sucks up the entire universe and turns it inside out. Or a miniature unicorn that spits concentrated acid.

Nicolaus reaches out to open the box, but stops short. He turns slowly and looks about the room. ‘Vanessa?’

She holds her breath.

‘I know you’re there.’

Vanessa doesn’t dare make herself visible since there must be surveillance cameras in the room. But she takes a step forward and touches Nicolaus’s coat in confirmation. ‘How did you know?’ she murmurs.

‘I didn’t,’ he answers. ‘I guessed. There was something in Miss Minoo’s behaviour that put the idea into my head.’

‘She was afraid there might be something dangerous in the box,’ Vanessa whispers.

‘And if there is, how are you going to help me?’

‘At least then there are two of us. And I’m invisible.’

‘Evil sees more than we think,’ Nicolaus mumbles. ‘You should go.’

‘I can’t get out –we’re locked in. You might as well open the box and get it over with.’

‘Then for God’s sake take a few steps back!’

‘I’m already standing a few steps back.’

Nicolaus takes a deep breath, as if he were going to dive under water. He reaches for the box, but stops short again.

‘What is it?’ Vanessa asks.

‘I’m shuddering at the thought of what might be inside it,’ he says.

‘You’re not the only one.’

‘You don’t understand. Ever since my awakening I’ve been wandering around in a fog. Now the moment has arrived when that fog might lift. I fear the answers I’m going to get. If I get any.’

All at once Vanessa feels an enormous empathy with Nicolaus. It must be difficult to fumble about constantly in the dark as he’s doing. Yet he’s stood faithfully by theirside. He’s always tried to help them find answers. Unlike the principal, who has the answers but won’t share them.

‘I can open it,’ Vanessa says.

‘No,’ says Nicolaus, and takes another deep breath. ‘This is my lot.’

‘Suit yourself,’ she says, and sneaks a little closer.

Nicolaus opens the box.

It contains a black book with two circles stamped into the cover. And next to it, a now familiar silver loupe.

‘The Book of Patterns,’ Vanessa says. ‘And a Pattern Finder. It’s like the ones the witches use.’

Nicolaus picks up the book. Lying underneath it is a white envelope with old-fashioned handwriting on the front:



Hand delivery to Nicolaus Elingius



He glances to the spot where he thinks Vanessa is standing. He’s off by about a metre. Then he turns the envelope over. A red wax seal. Nicolaus carefully breaks it, opens the envelope and pulls out a thin sheet of paper. Vanessa reads over his shoulder.



At the time of my writing this, I have spent five weeks in Engelsfors. Five weeks of clarity. As soon as I returned, the veil was lifted from my eyes and I remembered my purpose and my goal. Still I am plagued by a feeling that this condition will not last.

My first intention was to write a complete account of my history and what lies in store in this Godforsaken place. Then it occurred to me that there is a risk of such a letter falling into the wrong hands, God forbid! This makes me choose my words carefully. I dare not disclose as much as I would like.

Even if the self that is reading this letter has likely once again sunk into the haze, at least I will have help on the way. If I read this in some unknown future it is because my faithful familiar has led me here.

Fear not, my lost self. Clarity will return. The cross of silver shall protect you and the Chosen One. In its vicinity you are as safe as you are at the sacred place.

As a final word of guidance, I give myself this maxim, the full meaning of which I have tried to embed in my memory:

MEMENTO MORI



Minoo reads the last lines again, then puts down the letter on Nicolaus’s coffee-table. The silver cross hanging on the wall opposite her must be the one to which the letter refers. A few minutes ago it was just a strange artefact. Now it has an aura of mystique.

Nicolaus is sitting with the Book of Patterns open in front of him and is twiddling the dials on the Pattern Finder. Cat is lying at his feet purring.

Of course, the cat is Nicolaus’s familiar. Minoo can’t believe she failed to make the connection when the principal told them about witches and their ability to connect with animals.

Witches.

Like Nicolaus.

She picks up the letter, reads it again and tries to understand.

Even Nicolaus is a witch. Everyone’s a witch these days, except her.

Vanessa emerges from the kitchen and jumps out of the way when Cat tries to rub against her calf. ‘Couldn’t you have chosen a more hygienic familiar?’ she asks.

‘Memento mori,’ Nicolaus mumbles. ‘“Remember that you are going to die.”’ If only I could remember what exactly I meant by that phrase.’

‘Well, you remembered it when you wrote the letter,’ Minoo says, trying to sound encouraging. ‘So it’ll come back to you. And your powers.’

‘I hope to God you’re right,’ he says, and twiddles a little more with the Pattern Finder. ‘How does this thing work again?’

‘Like a radio,’ Vanessa says. ‘Sort of.’

‘At least we’ve learned one important thing,’ says Minoo, and points at the cross. ‘Kärrgruvan isn’t the only safe place for us to meet.’

‘That’s a relief,’ Vanessa says, and pulls on her jacket which she’d tossed on to the floor. ‘It’s useless having a place without a toilet. And we can meet here without Her Witchiness knowing about it.’

Vanessa zips up her jacket, and is clearly about to leave. It’s all moving too fast for Minoo. Everything has changed now. They need to sit down and think about what it means. ‘Don’t you think we should tell the principal? This means that you’re a witch, too, Nicolaus. She has to accept you now, doesn’t she?’

‘She may not be in league with demons,’ says Nicolaus, ‘but I’ve got a feeling we can’t trust her and that so-called Council.’

‘Suits me just fine,’ Vanessa says, shrugging her shoulders.

‘And the others?’ Minoo asks.

‘I’ll tell Linnéa,’ says Vanessa. ‘You can tell Anna-Karin.’

‘And what about Miss Ida?’ Nicolaus asks.

Vanessa and Minoo exchange looks. It seems wrong to exclude Ida. It goes against everything that Rebecka was talking about, everything that Minoo has tried to hold on to: that they have to work together. But can they trust Ida?

‘No,’ says Minoo. ‘We won’t say anything to her.’

‘I agree,’ Vanessa says.

‘She’s also one of the Chosen Ones,’ Nicolaus objects.

‘As soon as we’ve found out a little more, we’ll tell her,’ Minoo says. ‘We promise.’

Nicolaus looks at her doubtfully.

‘We can’t be sure she won’t tell the principal,’ she says.

It works. Nicolaus looks dubious, but he nods.