Shadowstitch, p.18
Shadowstitch, page 18
‘We yell at each other for stealing each other’s clothes and plait each other’s hair?’ Effie suggested.
‘That could work.’
‘We don’t try to kill each other?’
‘Also a good start.’
‘Thanks for not killing me, by the way.’
‘Sure,’ Anna replied, and they laughed faintly at the absurdity of their conversation.
‘You thought about it though?’ Effie’s voice remained teasing but her eyes sharpened.
Anna wanted to say no but she couldn’t. ‘I thought about it,’ she said, slowly. ‘Aunt painted a compelling picture, and I was angry and terrified and I’d always done what she told me to do my whole life. But no. It was never an option.’
‘Can’t entirely blame you. I’d lied, released the video and slept with Peter. And if you’d got rid of me, you’d be free now. You wouldn’t have a curse or a bitch of a sister to deal with.’ Effie smirked but it fell away. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done those things. I was pissed at Darcey and then I was pissed at you. I was drunk and destructive.’
Anna hadn’t ever expected to hear those words. ‘I’m sorry too,’ she said quickly, wanting to meet Effie halfway. ‘I’m sorry if you felt I was coming between you and Attis …’
She wondered whether to tell Effie about their kiss, but it would ruin everything, and for what? Something that had meant nothing to him.
Effie searched her eyes and Anna began to grow uncomfortable, but then Effie smiled. ‘I forgive you. I get it. He’s hot.’
‘It wasn’t—’
Effie laughed. ‘I’m just playing with you. Though he’d have died too if you’d sacrificed me. How do I know you weren’t just saving him?’ She arched an accusatory eyebrow.
‘I wasn’t going to let either of you die,’ Anna replied seriously. ‘I don’t think one of you could exist without the other anyway. You’re part of each other.’ It hurt her to say the words, but they were true.
Effie nodded. ‘We are. I couldn’t live without him.’
Anna didn’t know how to reply. Their conversation was the closest they’d ever come to honesty and yet it felt rife with cracks – one wrong step and you’d fall right through. ‘Which is why we’ll save him,’ she said. ‘Together.’
‘Of course we will. The curse can go to hell and leave us to take over the world.’
‘The world?’ Anna laughed. ‘I thought we were just getting used to the idea of being sisters.’
Effie’s face gave way to a grin. ‘OK. Well, you can borrow any clothes you want, my wardrobe is basically Narnia, and I can’t plait hair, sorry.’
‘Wait, you don’t know how to plait hair?’
‘Can you imagine Selene doing that? We just used magic.’
Anna thought over the evenings that had punctuated every day of her life – Aunt brushing her hair, plaiting it – sometimes severe, sometimes tender. It had been control, but it had been some of their closest moments too.
‘I can teach you.’ Anna nodded towards the floor-length mirror.
Effie rolled her head on the pillow. ‘No, I’m too comfy.’
‘Come on.’ Anna cleared a pathway to the mirror. Effie dragged herself from the bed and slumped onto the floor. Anna sat down behind her and their eyes met in the mirror. They laughed, a little embarrassed. Anna ran her fingers through Effie’s hair, teasing away the knots. It was as soft as her own.
‘I like your real colour,’ said Anna, looking at the black roots beneath the peroxide blonde.
Effie waved a hand. ‘I get bored. Maybe I’ll go red?’ She pouted in the mirror. She pulled some of Anna’s hair close to her face, considering the colour. ‘We don’t look much alike, do we?’ She tilted her head. ‘Maybe you have my nose.’
‘I think you’ll find you have my nose.’ Anna grinned. She preferred to look at Effie’s face in the mirror to her own. Her own red hair and green eyes reminded her too much of … Aunt. Whereas Effie, with her black hair and dimples, was all Marie. Not just looks. From Selene’s stories, Marie had always sounded fearless and bold and entrancing. All the things Effie was.
‘What if I’m like her …’ Anna muttered, afraid to say it out loud. ‘What if I’m like Aunt?’
Effie’s eyes moved to hers. ‘She’s dead, Anna. Let her die. Anyway.’ Effie looked back to the mirror, teasing. ‘If anyone’s going to be the bad sister, it’s me. I’m the morally depraved one; you’re the virginal wholesome one.’
Anna opened her mouth. ‘Hey!’ She refocused on the task at hand to distract from her burning cheeks. She picked up a few strands of Effie’s hair. ‘Plaits. Now, you select three even pieces of hair and you weave them together like this—’ Anna demonstrated. ‘You see?’
‘I mean, magic is a lot easier, but it does feel nice. I’ll give you that.’
Effie leant back, softening, closing her eyes and turning uncommonly quiet, her coiled energy unwinding as Anna plaited and unplaited her hair. A few minutes passed in silence.
‘I guess,’ said Effie, her voice as wistful as Anna had ever heard it, ‘our mother might have done this to us …’
Anna nodded but they looked away from each other, the weight of their lost memories too much to bear.
Anna loosed the plaits with her fingers. ‘We’re all that’s left of her now …’
Effie turned to her, cross-legged on the floor. She bit her lip. ‘You wouldn’t want to take up Demdike’s suggestion … get as far away from one another as possible?’
Anna imagined it but she could feel the pull, the pull between them that had always been there. ‘No. You?’
Effie shook her head.
‘Maybe we need to learn how to trust one another again …’ said Anna, her words trailing, not sure how they would be received.
‘Trust.’ Effie seemed to reel at the word. She traced her spider tattoo, which was running down her arm. ‘I find it hard enough to trust myself half the time.’
‘I find trust hard too, believe me. My aunt drilled into me my whole life that she was the only person I could trust, and look how that worked out.’
‘Everyone lied to me too.’ Effie’s eyes went still. Hard.
‘We could try …’ This offering felt tremulous, close to breaking. How could Anna trust herself when she didn’t know who she was any more?
Effie looked back up at her, eyes thawing. She nodded. ‘Let’s try. We don’t let the curse come between us. We work together.’
She put a hand towards Anna. Anna went to take it but the spider of Effie’s tattoo ran into Effie’s palm. Without thinking, Anna put her hand to the side and it ran across into her own palm, the lightest footprints of magic.
Effie appeared surprised. ‘Well, that’s never happened before. Apparently, magic wants us to work together too.’
Anna smiled at the simple yet astonishing magic, letting the spider run back into Effie’s hand. ‘Together,’ she said, not looking away, trying to believe in it. ‘Besides, I need you.’ She smiled. ‘I’m always braver when I’m with you.’
‘I’ll have to try harder to terrify you.’ Effie grinned. ‘Speaking of, this hair plaiting has given me the perfect idea for our next coven session.’
‘Should I be worried?’
‘Indefinitely.’
When Anna returned to her room later, her head was full of Effie. She opened the Everdell book, seeing their names first.
Anna Everdell – Effie Everdell.
A line connecting them. A simple thread. But so far from simple. Even though Anna wanted it, perhaps more than anything, they would never be the kind of sisters who plaited hair and swapped clothes and shared secrets about boys. What they had was different – uncategorizable, complicated, turbulent. Would the thread be strong enough? They didn’t have a past, they’d only known each other one fraught year and Anna felt like she was only ever seeing half of Effie; the other half hidden beneath restless waves. How could you know someone who turned knowing them into a game?
If you don’t have trust, you don’t have anything, my child …
Anna traced the line up to: Vivienne Everdell. That name she knew; that name was sewn on the inside of her heart. A bleeding name. Dead, because of me. Dead but not gone. Anna could still feel the threads between them, tangled, still beating and bleeding, so many she didn’t know where she began and Aunt ended.
BLOOD, HAIR, BONE
To exert control over a spirit, its Death Name must be known, but not all can be uncovered. Some names are buried so deep even Hel fears to speak them.
Spirit Magicke, Books of the Dead: Tome 3865
Anna shut her locker door to find Peter approaching, a determined look upon his face. He was carrying a bunch of flowers, which he extended towards her. Roses. Without thinking, Anna flinched from them. They hovered in the air, as unsure as the look on his face.
‘An apology,’ he said in that voice of his, smooth as polished marble. ‘Please take them.’
‘Peter, I don’t want flowers.’
He lowered them, his cheeks flushing in a way she’d never seen before. ‘I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness but I just hoped we could talk.’
Anna had dreamt for years of him uttering a single word to her and now, apparently, he was desperate to speak to her on a daily basis. She couldn’t fathom why he was still interested in her. He could have anyone in the school, and she’d refused his advances once. He’d been quick to find a replacement then …
‘I don’t think a talk will change anything,’ she said, her voice brittle as the memories of the ball flooded back through her.
He attempted a playful smile. ‘You can’t avoid me forever …’
I shouldn’t have to avoid you! Anna felt like shouting, but his smile faltered and he looked so momentarily helpless that she bit her lip. How am I the one feeling guilty now?!
He stepped towards her, his cut-glass blue eyes sharpening with intensity. ‘Please, Anna. I just want a chance to explain myself. Why don’t we just go for a coffee? One coffee?’
‘I’m in.’ A hand appeared on Peter’s shoulder. Smoke-stained fingers. Anna hadn’t noticed Attis come up behind them. He put his arm around Peter in a friendly gesture that was also somehow incredibly threatening. ‘You’re very persuasive, Mr Nowell.’
Peter shrugged him off. ‘Attis.’ He nodded, releasing a controlled breath. ‘Anna and I were just speaking.’
‘Looked to me more like you speaking at her.’
Peter squared his shoulders to Attis. ‘Really? You’re talking to me about harassing girls? Isn’t it all you do?’
‘The difference is they want to talk to me.’
‘I think we both know you’re not interested in anything a girl has to say, Attis.’
‘You’re right, I’m just a rogue with one thing on my mind. Not a gentleman who hounds girls with flaccid flowers.’
Anna looked down at the roses in Peter’s hand, which had suspiciously wilted, the stalks flopped over. She made a face at Attis. His smile quirked. Peter stared at the flowers in confusion.
‘Don’t worry, Peter. Happens to the best of us.’ Attis patted him on the arm. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, Anna and I have plans to walk to class together.’
Peter’s jaw stiffened. ‘Anna and I were speaking—’
‘Actually, Anna is leaving,’ she said. ‘I’ll leave you two to work this out.’ She brushed past them, feeling gratification at the looks on their faces. It gave way when she thought of what Peter had said about Attis. Anna had noticed him around school, back to his old tricks, a girl on his arm as he walked to class or sitting with another in the lunch hall, chatting, laughing, flirting with expert ease. Apparently, the rumours had only added to his allure. Did you really think it would be any different? That he would be any different?
‘Anna.’ She heard Attis’s voice behind her as he caught up with her. ‘Well, that was harsh.’
She rolled her eyes at him, knowing it was dangerous to look into his eyes for long, that she was far from immune to his allure. ‘I was beginning to feel like a third wheel.’
‘Peter and I just have a lot of catching up to do.’
‘You need to not do magic in front of cowans.’
‘I didn’t do it on purpose. My presence tends to wither flowers, birds drop out of the sky, women run screaming. That sort of thing.’
Anna snorted. ‘That adds up.’
They made their way outside towards the science building. She wasn’t sure why he was still here; she didn’t think he had a class there now. He stretched his arms to the sky briefly then turned to her as they walked. ‘But seriously, you shouldn’t let Peter harass you.’
‘I’m not. He’s just trying to apologize for—’
Anna didn’t finish. They both remembered vividly what had happened that night. Effie and Peter together in bed. Attis driving Anna home, his hands unzipping her dress, their eyes too close for comfort, the feel of his lips—
Not helpful thoughts. She turned to the wind, breathing it in. ‘I don’t need your help with this.’
‘He shouldn’t keep bothering you, trying to woo you with tokens of his fuckwittery.’
Anna stopped. ‘They were just roses, Attis.’
‘It’s what the roses represent.’
‘And what is that?’
‘That he’d like to … pluck you.’
‘Attis!’ Anna walked on quickly so he wouldn’t see the bright hue of her cheeks.
‘Anyway.’ He caught up with her, chuckling. ‘You know you’re not a rose girl.’
Anna wondered if he was hinting at the conversation they’d had once, when he’d transformed Cressey Square garden into a secret wilderness for her. When he’d chosen a flower he thought represented her: springwort. A magical flower that summarized what that whole afternoon had been – nothing but an illusion.
‘Maybe I’m not a flower girl at all,’ she responded. ‘Why is it girls are presented with something that was once beautiful but is now slowly dying?’
Attis considered her words. ‘You have a point.’
She stopped at the science building door, then narrowed her eyes. ‘Do you even have a class here now?’
He looked up at the building and shook his head. ‘Nah, just fancied the walk. I can’t remember where my next class is.’
‘Attis!’
‘Don’t worry, they’ll wait for me.’ He grinned and made off in the other direction.
Anna watched him go, her smile wavering as she wondered if she was just another flirtation for him now. She turned and made her way into class, freezing as she opened the door—
Inspector Eames was sitting at the back of the room with his notepad at the ready. His gaze moved to her and for a moment the black depths of his eyes were all she could see. She stumbled towards a chair. Keep it together.
‘Anna, you’re late,’ the teacher chided.
‘Sorry, Dr Pinkett.’ She tucked herself into a row.
‘As I was saying,’ Dr Pinkett continued, giving Anna a pointed look. ‘Inspector Eames will be observing today’s class. Nothing to worry about. We shall continue as normal—’
Anna took out her books, doing her best to ignore the man sitting behind, but he was all she could think about, all she could feel in the room. Why was he observing classes? It had been a few weeks since the start of term, and while Darcey’s rumours were still on everyone’s lips, they had begun to lose some of their initial fervour – but his presence, his watching, would only keep the questions alive. Anna moved her hands beneath her desk, her fingers tangling, gripping, as she tried to take her focus off the racing of her heart, but in her mind, bells were ringing in high warning and all she could feel was a cold nothingness creeping through her body, setting it on edge—
She’d been practising her magic. Forcing herself to open up to it. Last night, she’d formed ripples in the bath and then attempted to draw them back to their centre with magic. At first, nothing had happened. She’d gone through the motions of the spell easily enough, sensing the threads in the room – the shimmer of water, the unfolding ripples, the fertile steams of the bath – but when she’d attempted to reach for the magic inside herself – to raise her Hira – it just … wasn’t there. She’d tried not to panic at the fact she couldn’t feel anything, pulling the threads tighter, but they felt colourless … stretched too far. It had been easier in the sewing room with the others, but alone, with no one to face but herself, her magic was too distant. And yet, when she’d dashed her hand through the waters in frustration, the ripples had suddenly grown in force and number, rising up like a well overflowing, making a storm of the bath and spilling over the sides. It had been the same when she’d attempted to light a candle in her room and had set the curtains on fire. How could she control her magic if it kept acting so out of control? Giving her too much or nothing at all.
It might have comforted her if they’d made more progress with the curse but their new plan was getting nowhere. Anna had spent night after night ignoring her school work, researching the names of the original sisters instead – Hannah and Eleanor Everdell. Finding no trace of their existence. She’d written Nana a letter and attempted to make plans to go to the Library with Effie, but apparently Effie had been too busy partying and then sleeping off her partying. Things had been better between them since the trip to Demdike, and Anna was trying to keep relations amicable, but she found Effie’s general lack of urgency infuriating. But then, Effie’s dreams weren’t tortured by ravens and a winding staircase to nowhere; Effie’s magic wasn’t exploding randomly; Effie believed they could beat the curse no matter what they did; Effie hadn’t almost killed her own aunt—
‘Ms Everdell!’
Anna cried out.
The whole class turned to her. Dr Pinkett was staring at her and frowning – she realized he was the one who’d said her name. He frowned. ‘Anna, are you … OK? You weren’t responding to my question.’
‘Er – yes – sorry.’ Anna pulled herself up, hearing sniggers, whispers, the scratch of the inspector’s pen behind her. ‘What was the question again?’
