The Circle (Hammer)

43



IT’S HOT IN the barn. Anna-Karin has just helped Grandpa with the morning milking. He’s gone back into the house, but she’s stayed behind. She’s moving from stall to stall, looking at the cows, hoping their calm will rub off on her.

Her mobile vibrates in her pocket, but she ignores it. She knows it’s Julia and Felicia. They won’t leave her alone, even though Anna-Karin has told them she’s ill.

It’s the last day of the Christmas break and, for the first time since she left nursery, she doesn’t know what awaits her at school.

Before, at least, she had known who she was. There was a certain purity about that. She’d known the deal. There was security in having nothing to lose – things could only get better; she could dream of being freed one day from the role assigned to her in this loathsome town. Now she’s more frightened than ever, afraid of reverting to the person she’d been before, afraid of continuing to be the one she’s become.

She had stopped using her power after Jonte’s party, and the change had been immediately apparent. Her mother might start baking in the middle of the night, then not have the energy to take the trays out. She’d just sit smoking at the kitchen table while the cinnamon buns burned to a crisp. One moment she was hugging Anna-Karin so hard it hurt, and at the next she was saying she wished Anna-Karin had never been born. She switches back and forth between new and old mother – and both have become much worse.

Anna-Karin can’t imagine what’s going to happen with all the hundreds of people she’s been influencing at school. Will Julia and Felicia alternate between kissing her feet and pushing her head down the toilet?

She hears a car pull up in front of the house. The doors slam and Grandpa shouts his usual cheerful greeting. Anna-Karin walks up to a grimy window and peers out.

It’s Jari’s father. He’s talking to Grandpa, who hands him an electric screw gun.

Jari is sitting in the car.

Anna-Karin doesn’t have time to duck. He’s already seen her. And his eyes are wide with fear. As if he’s terrified of her.

She walks away from the window.

If she wasn’t sure before, she is now. She made the right decision. She’ll never again use her magic to change her life. Controlling her power is no longer the issue. She’s terrified of being unable to control herself.



Minoo climbs down the embankment and trudges on through the deep snow. The sun, which has barely mustered the energy to rise, shines low in the sky, forcing her to squint. Soon it’ll disappear behind the firs.

Her breath billows out of her mouth in great plumes as she steps on to the dirt track and walks along it. It’s the last day of the Christmas break. At the start of each term, Minoo usually feels a mixture of fear and expectation. Now the stakes are much higher. Now their lives are on the line. If she survives, her heart is sure to be torn apart. Just a few weeks ago Minoo had never been kissed. Now she’s kissed her teacher and her dead friend’s boyfriend, who might have murdered her but definitely has a doppelganger and is probably in league with demons.

Barely twenty-four hours have passed since Gustaf kissed her, and she hasn’t told anyone. She’s so ashamed that she can’t bear to think about it. How could she ever explain something like that? As soon as she even considers telling the others, she sees Linnéa’s look of contempt.

I suppose you and Rebecka weren’t such good friends after all.

To top it all, Nicolaus had a go at her this morning. He’s refusing to let them use his apartment unless they invite Ida to their training sessions.

‘She deserves the same chances as you. A chain is only as strong as its weakest link. If you don’t tell her soon, I will.’

I’ll tell her. I’ll tell her today, she thinks. No matter what the others say.

She reaches the frozen stream when she catches sight of something black moving along the ground. She knows who it is before she looks down.

Cat mews glumly and Minoo looks at it with a warmth that takes her by surprise. Nicolaus didn’t want to come, but his familiar is here. A part of him.

‘Let’s go,’ Minoo says.



They’re such a motley crew, Minoo thinks, as she walks through the fairground gates.

Vanessa, who looks as if she’s freezing in her far-too-thin jacket; Anna-Karin, like an overgrown child, with her brightly coloured woollen hat pulled low over her forehead; Linnéa, hidden inside a leopard-print fake-fur coat; and Ida in her white down jacket.

Minoo puts her backpack on the stage and pulls out some sheets of paper she’s printed from the Net. She’s nervous. But when she catches sight of Cat, who jumps up and lies down next to her –she feels a little stronger. She meets Ida’s gaze.

‘Ida,’ she asks, ‘have you found anything in the book?’

Ida shakes her head and smacks loudly on a piece of gum – Minoo gets a whiff of synthetic watermelon. ‘Nothing about G and a mysterious twin anyway,’ she says, with a secretive smile that’s intended to hint she’s found other things – things she has no intention of telling Minoo.

Minoo swallows her irritation and looks down at her papers. ‘I may have found something,’ she says.

The others wait. It’s quiet, except for the wet smacking from Ida’s mouth.

‘So, the question is how could Gustaf be in two places at the same time?’ Minoo begins.

The smacking stops.

‘No,’ Ida says. ‘The question is why we don’t go to the principal.’

‘You know the answer to that,’ Linnéa says. ‘Because she won’t do anything, except stop us.’

‘Maybe she can help us if we just as—’

‘We have to help ourselves,’ Linnéa says.

She gives Ida such a look of contempt that Minoo can’t help but be impressed. But Ida just scoffs and starts chewing her gum again. ‘Can you imagine what the principal would do if she found out about this?’ she says.

‘But she’s not going to,’ Linnéa says. ‘Is she?’

Ida doesn’t answer, just goes on chewing.

‘Is she?’ Linnéa repeats.

Ida shrugs her shoulders. ‘I guess we’ll have to see about that.’

Minoo fingers her papers. She’s already lost control of the situation. She clears her throat. ‘Ida,’ she says. ‘We have to know we can trust you.’ Even though we lie to you, she thinks, and feels sick.

‘I’ve no reason to feel any loyalty towards any of you.’

‘We promised each other we’d work together and look out for each other.’

‘I’m here, aren’t I?’ Ida says, throwing out her hands. ‘But I’m going soon if you don’t get started.’

‘God, we’d really miss you,’ Linnéa mumbles.

‘As I was saying,’ Minoo breaks in, before they start squabbling again, ‘I’ve tried to find an explanation for how Vanessa and I could have seen Gustaf at the same time. I started searching under “doppelganger” on the Net and it turned out you can find them in pretty much all mythologies.’ She looks up, as if to make sure that the others are paying attention.

‘I thought the principal’s Soviet-style censorship machine had removed all truth from the Internet,’ Linnéa says.

‘But she also said that traces remain,’ Anna-Karin counters.

Minoo looks at her in surprise.

‘Well, that’s what she said,’ Anna-Karin mumbles.

‘Exactly,’ says Minoo, feeling like a teacher giving praise. ‘Doppelgänger is German, meaning literally ‘double-walker’. The old Irish myths mention a creature known as a fetch. There are Norse myths about vardøgern, a kind of ghost-like premonitory apparition of a person who hasn’t been there yet. In the far north of Finland it’s called an etiäinen. All the mythologies agree that the appearance of a doppelganger is a bad omen. If you see your own doppelganger it’s usually a sign that you’re going to die.’

Minoo flips through her pile of papers.

‘But I’m not sure that’s what we’re looking for. I stumbled on some references to a kind of sister phenomenon known as bilocation. It appears throughout the world. There are references to it in early Greek philosophy, Hinduism, Buddhism, shamanism, Jewish mysticism—’

‘So what is it?’ Vanessa asks impatiently.

‘It’s the ability to be in two places at the same time,’ Minoo says. ‘You create a double that can gather information while you’re somewhere else. I haven’t really understood if the double has a will and intelligence of its own, or whether it’s sort of on remote control. But that’s the best explanation I’ve been able to find.’

‘So only one of the Gustafs we saw was the real Gustaf,’ Vanessa says. ‘What was your Gustaf like?’

‘There was definitely something wrong with him,’ Minoo says. ‘You must have been following the original.’

‘It must have been the double that killed Rebecka,’ Anna-Karin says. ‘Because it sort of wasn’t him.’

The urge returns to rinse her mouth out with chlorine. There’s no doubt any more. The Gustaf Minoo saw, the one who kissed her, was the same Gustaf who had killed Rebecka.

‘That makes sense,’ Linnéa says, deep in thought. ‘If Gustaf is such a thoroughly nice guy, like you say, he’d never be able to murder someone. Why not create a double to do your dirty work for you?’

Minoo feels her ears heat. Why did Gustaf kiss her?

‘Minoo,’ Linnéa says, ‘you heard two voices when he was trying to kill you. Could Gustaf and his double have been talking to each other?’

‘One wanted to kill you and the other didn’t,’ says Anna-Karin, thoughtfully.

‘That would mean the double has a will of its own,’ Vanessa points out.

Everyone falls silent for a moment.

‘So Gustaf isn’t dangerous. His double is,’ Anna-Karin says.

‘The double that he created,’ Linnéa says. ‘So he’s definitely not innocent.’

‘How do we know he created it?’ Anna-Karin asks. ‘I mean, maybe it came into existence on its own.’

‘The only one of us who can find out any more about how this works is Ida,’ Minoo says, and hears resentment in her voice.

‘All right, I’ll give it another try,’ Ida says. ‘But what do you think the principal would say about Vanessa stalking G all day?’

‘You can ask her,’ a familiar voice responds.

In a perfectly synchronised movement, everyone turns to see her walking towards the dance pavilion, her long black coat sweeping across the snow.

Cat hisses viciously at her raven, which caws as it glides through the air and alights on the railing of the dance floor.

‘I tried to tell them!’ Ida shouts. ‘You heard that, didn’t you?’

‘I’m disappointed in you,’ the principal says, ignoring Ida. She glares accusingly at Minoo. ‘Especially you. Didn’t I expressly tell you not to do anything on your own?’

Minoo is at a loss for words.

‘And Vanessa,’ the principal adds, ‘do you realise how much danger you’re putting yourself into by following Gustaf? The Council regards him as a particularly potent threat and has appointed …’

She is interrupted by a low laugh. Minoo has never heard it before, and it takes her a moment to realise it’s coming from Linnéa. She’s laughing so much she can hardly breathe.

Everyone stares at her.

‘Sorry …’ Linnéa whimpers. ‘But … it’s just so … f*cking … tragic.’

Adriana crosses her arms. ‘Perhaps you’d care to share your little joke with the rest of us.’

Linnéa’s laughter peters out and her face hardens. ‘How long do you intend to carry on this charade?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Adriana says. ‘Now, you must tell me everything you’ve found out about Gustaf—’

‘No,’ Linnéa says, without releasing the principal from her gaze. ‘It’s time for you to tell us what you and the Council are actually doing. You pretend to be as powerful as gods, but all you can do is light little fires. The only way you can control us is by tricking us into believing we need you. But when it comes down to it, you don’t actually know anything. You can’t protect us, even if you want to.’

‘That’s not true,’ the principal says.

‘Have you forgotten about the circles we saw at her house?’ Minoo says impatiently to Linnéa. ‘They could teleport her from Stockholm to here – powerful magic.’

But Linnéa ignores her. She’s focused on Adriana, like a laser beam. ‘You already have two lives on your conscience, but maybe you want us all to die. Perhaps that’s your purpose.’

‘No!’

Her voice reminds Minoo of a bird’s shriek. The principal presses her lips together. Minoo can see that she’s trying to keep composed. But it’s too late. Her mask has cracked. She can no longer hide her fear.

She takes a deep breath and lets out the world’s longest sigh. ‘I don’t even know where to begin.’

‘Start with the circles in your house,’ Linnéa suggests. ‘Explain to Minoo why they weren’t so impressive, after all.’

Linnéa is looking triumphantly at the principal, but Minoo is terrified: she doesn’t want to hear what’s about to be said. If the principal and the Council aren’t as all-knowing and powerful as they’ve claimed, she’d prefer to live with the lie. The principal has been the only authority they’ve had – the only one with any answers. The notion that they might be completely alone, without any guidance, is simply too horrifying.

‘The circles …’ the principal starts, then pauses. ‘It took six months and five witches to perform the incantation. It was the equivalent of the world’s most expensive alarm system, the only difference being that when the circles have been used once the whole procedure has to be performed again. Linnéa is right. The fire magic you’ve seen me do is the only thing I can manage without difficulty. Anything else requires days, often weeks, of preparation and almost always the help of other witches.’

She pauses again, as if to catch her breath. It looks as if every word she utters is painful, but out they come – one after the other.

‘Unlike you, I wasn’t born with powers. I grew up in a family of trained witches, raised in the belief that the Council always does the right thing.’ She pauses a third time. ‘I feel enormous guilt for what happened to Elias and Rebecka. We should have done more to prevent … We should have been more open with you from the start.’

She falls silent and looks at the ground. The raven flaps through the air and lands on her shoulder. It tucks its head under one wing.

‘And the all-powerful Council?’ Linnéa asks, with a smile that borders on smug. She’s behaving like a sadistic interrogator, Minoo thinks.

‘They’re afraid of you,’ the principal says. ‘If they knew I was being so open with you now, I’d be punished. They want me to control you, get you to find the answers in the Book of Patterns that they can’t see, and use that knowledge to strengthen the Council.’

‘So the Council is as useless as you are?’ Linnéa asks.

‘You don’t have to kick her when she’s down,’ Minoo says. ‘You exposed her. That’s enough.’

‘I understand you’re disappointed, Minoo. No teacher to suck up to any more,’ Linnéa says.

‘It’s not true that the Council is powerless,’ the principal interrupts shrilly. ‘You mustn’t dismiss it. The Council is well organised and many across the world submit to its authority. Together they can perform powerful magic. They could take drastic action to bring you to heel.’ She glances at Anna-Karin.

‘Drastic action?’ Linnéa says scornfully. ‘I don’t think they’ve shown any stomach for that.’

The principal hesitates. Then she unbuttons her long winter coat, revealing one of her typically well-tailored suits with a white blouse. She undoes the three top buttons.

Minoo has to look away.

The fire symbol is branded just below the principal’s left collarbone in a web-like patch of scorched skin.

‘I planned to leave the Council once,’ the principal says, with a mirthless smile. ‘There was a man. You may think this looks bad …’ She meets Linnéa’s gaze and holds it. ‘… but it’s nothing compared to what they did to him.’

Linnéa’s face is tense and her mouth half open. She takes a few staggering steps backwards.

The principal buttons her blouse and refastens her coat. ‘I suggest you all go home. School starts tomorrow. Ida can search in the book,’ she says. ‘But that’s all you should do.’

She turns and looks at Minoo. For just half a second too long. There’s something knowing in her eyes. Something enigmatic that Minoo can’t interpret.

‘Absolutely nothing else,’ the principal says.



‘Ida!’ Minoo shouts. ‘Wait!’

Ida stops but doesn’t turn.

‘I’ve got to talk to you,’ Minoo says, when she comes up.

Ida looks at her reluctantly. Her eyes seem almost unnaturally blue against her white jacket and the snow. She’s as cute as a doll – an evil doll, but still …

No, she mustn’t think like that. It’s time to turn the page.

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Ida says. ‘You’ve been meeting in secret. At Nicolaus’s house. We’re safe at his place, because he’s got a magic silver cross on his wall. It said so in a letter in a safety deposit box that Cat showed you. Cat is Nicolaus’s familiar. Nicolaus is also a witch. His element is wood, but you didn’t know that.’

Minoo stares at Ida as she tries frantically to think of an explanation. Who told her?

‘The book showed me,’ Ida says triumphantly. ‘It said you’ve been practising your magic without me.’ She wipes the tip of her nose. ‘You’re bullying me.’

‘No …’

‘Really?’ Ida says. ‘So you didn’t say you thought the world would be a better place if I were dead?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Minoo says. ‘Very sorry. And it was wrong of us to keep our meetings secret from you. But I was going to tell you about it now.’

‘Because I’m the only one who can read the book. You need me.’

‘Yes. We need you.’ Her words catch in Minoo’s throat as she speaks them. ‘Are you going to help us? Without telling Adriana?’

Ida snorts. Then she looks away. ‘The book says I have to help you. Otherwise it won’t show me any more.’

The situation with the snitching book becomes more and more bizarre.

‘Can you look for something to help us find out the truth?’ Minoo asks.

‘I suppose so. But I’m doing it for G, not you.’