by Fiona Horne
My heart sank as the final bell rang for the day – time for detention with creepy Mr Barrow. Still at least we were all doing it together.
When I arrived at the chemistry lab, Dean and Bryce were already there. Mr Barrow wasn’t.
‘Hey guys, I’m sorry I freaked out before – I think being cool went to my head briefly. I went a bit nuts!’ I laughed a little, hoping they’d chuckle, too.
‘I should apologise, too,’ Bryce cut me off. ‘I didn’t think enough about your perspective on the spell. I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge.’
Dean nodded. ‘I’m enjoying this spell, but we didn’t intend for it to cause us more problems. If you guys want to reverse it, I’m happy to. I don’t need it. I feel the same on the inside. And it would probably be simpler to just stop eating crap to lose weight and fix my skin.’
We were all laughing together as the twins walked in.
‘This is a first – laughing during detention!’ they both said.
And now there was just one thing missing – Mr Barrow.
Half an hour later he still hadn’t shown.
‘Did we get the day wrong? He did say we had to start this today, right?’ Dean said. We had all been sitting there fidgeting, growing more and more uneasy.
‘I feel like I’m being watched.’ Alyssa took the words right out of my head.
‘Can you sense him?’ I asked.
‘I’m not trusting my psychic powers right now,’ Alyssa whispered. ‘Not after what we did with that shield. This is just my gut telling me – he’s messing with us.’
‘Maybe we should just leave?’ Bryce stood up. ‘I’m over it. Barrow had no good reason to give us detention anyway.’ He said the last words loudly and defiantly, as if daring Mr Barrow to confront him.
‘Yeah, I vote we leave,’ Dean said loudly too, pushing back his chair.
We were gathering our bags when the door slammed shut behind us. I jumped and turned to see Mr Barrow standing there.
‘Detention is cancelled,’ he said coldly.
None of us moved.
‘Get out of here before I change my mind,’ he snapped. ‘And if I catch any of you so much as even causing a whimper among the other students I will have you back in here before you can blink.’
We grabbed our bags and walked towards the door. Dean reached it first, but Mr Barrow just stood there, blocking it with his stocky frame.
Dean stood in front of him uncertainly. ‘Sir, can I pass?’
Mr Barrow took his time looking Dean up and down and then slowly stepped to the side.
I was next, with Bryce close behind me. He virtually pushed me past Mr Barrow and out the door, and the twins followed in hot pursuit. We got out of the building as fast as we could.
‘What the hell was that about?’ Dean said.
Standing outside in the afternoon sun, I looked around at everyone and saw that they all looked as unsettled as I felt.
‘Why say we have detention and then cancel it?’ said Bryce.
‘He is so freaking weird,’ said Amelia.
‘Maybe he did see us floating,’ I said.
‘I don’t think anyone but us was aware of the floating – only our perception of reality shifted when we cast that shield; I think to everyone else we would’ve just looked like we were standing in a circle,’ said Alyssa.
I just couldn’t deal with it anymore. ‘Want to go to the Purple Raven? I want to get Brenda’s opinion,’ I said. Everyone nodded.
Brenda was standing at the door of the cafe. As usual, she looked striking: today she wore a bright-purple caftan with a large white shell necklace. The necklace was one of my favourites of hers. She’d told me before that it was made of cowry shells, which were sacred to her ancestors and were considered to be empowered with the energy of the wise ocean goddess, Yemaja. Brenda looked like a goddess herself. We definitely needed her wisdom.
She smiled when she saw us approaching. ‘Welcome, children of magic,’ she called out.
It was a relief to enter the dark cocoon of the cafe, which was empty. When I came to think of it, the cafe was always empty when we were there. I wanted to ask Brenda why, but there were more pressing things to discuss first.
‘Brenda, we’ve had the weirdest day,’ Dean said.
‘Really?’ said Brenda. ‘Well, first let me say you all look extremely cool.’ She smiled in a knowing way, and I knew that she had picked up on the spell we’d done.
‘But that’s just it!’ I blurted out. ‘Looking cool isn’t cool – we’ve had the worst day. We got detention, our magic has been going haywire . . . and I’m scared of my teacher Mr Barrow.’
There, I’d said it, finally. I was scared of him – and even with my ‘powers’ I did not feel equipped to handle his horrible attitude towards me, and now my coven, too.
‘How long have you felt this way?’ Brenda said.
‘He’s seemed to have a problem with me from my very first class, and he’s only got worse. There’s no reason for it. I do well in tests, I keep my head down in class . . . but it’s like he has a major issue with me and the reason’s a secret!’ I shook my head in frustration.
‘I would be happy to throw the cards for you, Vania. Perhaps they can help us get to the bottom of why he’s treating you poorly.’ Brenda withdrew a dark-blue velvet pouch from a drawer in a side counter.
‘If Vania doesn’t mind, you’re all welcome to stay for the reading.’ Brenda looked to me.
I nodded. ‘Yes, I’d like everyone to be here.’
‘We’ve all just been on the receiving end of his weirdness, too,’ Alyssa said. ‘Mr Barrow’s freaking us all out now.’
‘All right then, everyone please sit,’ Brenda said. She took a seat herself at the head of the cafe’s central table and removed a pack of ancient-looking tarot cards from the pouch as we joined her.
The cards were huge, and I wondered how she would be able to shuffle them, but she handed them to me.
‘Give them a good shuffle, Vania, and focus on what is concerning you. In fact, I would like all of you to think about this Mr Barrow, and let’s see what the cards can tell us.’
I took the cards from her and tried to shuffle them like a playing deck. My initial attempts were clumsy, but gradually I got the hang of it, and soon I was shuffling the cards like a professional gambler, all the while staying very focused on Mr Barrow and one word . . . Why?
‘That’s enough,’ Brenda said to get my attention. I had no idea how long I’d been shuffling the cards for.
I handed them to her and she took ten cards from the deck and spread them into a cross in front of her.
‘Vania, you only moved to Summerland this year?’ she said.
‘Yes, you know that. Why do you ask?’
‘Well, according to the cards you and your teacher have met before – a long time ago.’
‘I don’t think that’s possible. I mean, I was born here in Summerland, but my parents moved to Australia pretty much straight away.’
‘Well, possibly your energies have crossed in a past life then. There is definitely some troubled energy around your connection. It’s very hard to see, though . . .’
‘Like there’s a wall around it!’ butted in Amelia. ‘Alyssa and I have already tried to look into this psychically, but we couldn’t get through.’
‘Yes, there is definitely some kind of block around him that makes it hard to determine his origins or what exactly his issue is with you, Vania. Though there is an issue.’ She flipped over another card and it was Death. I gasped.
‘My dear, don’t worry, it’s not literal – the Death card most often means a rebirth or transition of a situation into new circumstances.’
Brenda briskly piled all the cards back together again.
‘Is that all?’ Dean said.
‘For now, yes,’ said Brenda. ‘I never force the cards to divulge information before it’s time. The future is created by the steps we take today, and the cards are merely
a guide as to what is up ahead, not instructions on where to go.’
‘But what do I do about him?’ I wailed. ‘I can’t bear any more of his poor treatment! It’s so unfair! And now he’s taking it out on everyone else, too!’
‘Hush,’ said Brenda soothingly. ‘Now is not a time to focus on how weak you are, but how strong you are.’
She stopped and looked at each of us for a moment. ‘I mean, look at you all! You are successfully working magic. You are learning from mistakes and moving forward and evolving together. Don’t let this silly man’s attitude intimidate you. Remember: together you are stronger than the sum of your parts, and you can take the high road and ignore his behaviour,’ she said adamantly. ‘Which brings me to this.’ She grabbed my left wrist and placed my arm on the table, palm up. My star arrow showed clearly, dark and purple. I had totally forgotten about it.
‘This is a sacred symbol of empowerment,’ Brenda said. ‘I recognise it as a Spiritualist symbol.’
‘My great-grandmother shared it with us,’ said Bryce.
Brenda nodded approvingly. ‘It means that the greatest light is that which shines from within. When you mark yourself with this symbol, you declare that you unconditionally embrace your own individuality. You are elevated beyond cool. You are you. And that is enough.’
‘So we had it in us all along,’ Dean said quietly.
‘Yes,’ Brenda said. ‘In fact, what makes you cool on the inside will keep you cool long after school is over.’
‘Do we have to undo the spell?’ I asked Brenda hesitantly, remembering how intense the last spell reversal had been for me.
‘I don’t think we need to,’ said Bryce, ‘because it didn’t create something untrue – it just made us aware of something we were blind to. I think that’s why my great-grandmother revealed the symbol to us, so that we could always look to it and remember.’
We all looked at the symbol we shared on our wrists.
‘I want to get it tattooed on for real,’ I said.
‘Wait until you’re eighteen,’ Brenda said. ‘You gotta be practical as well as magical, you know. Your parents will kill you if you get a tattoo now, and no spell could change that fact!’
I gave a wry shrug of my shoulders. That was undoubtably true.
‘Let’s have something to eat and ground this energy,’ Brenda said. ‘And then you need to think about focusing on solving the mystery of the woman of Queen’s Cross. I feel intuitively there’s something about her death that will help enlighten you all about magic. Nothing is by pure chance in life. You were drawn to her, for a reason.’
Eleven
Dust caused my nose to clog and my eyes to itch as I turned over the pages of an ancient newspaper. Behind me the twins were coughing and sniffling, too, as they juggled newspapers and a list that Mrs Pilkington had given them noting all the archived copies of the Summerland Star that were supposed to be contained in this room.
It was a mess. But after all our recent magical adventures we were now fully focused on the mystery of the woman of Queen’s Cross.
For about the thousandth time I wished the newspapers had been scanned and stored digitally. It wasn’t like the technology to do it didn’t exist.
‘Summerland is a small town,’ Alyssa said, reading my thoughts.
‘Well, I guess that has its advantages, too,’ I said. My voice was nasal because my nose was so blocked. I almost sounded American! ‘I doubt we’d be allowed to go through all this stuff if this were a big city newspaper like the Los Angeles Times.’
I looked around again at the piles of boxes and crates filled with old papers.
‘We’d better solve this mystery and ace the assignment to make this worth it,’ I said, sneezing again. ‘Still, it’s better than being in class on a Friday afternoon, I guess.’
‘The woman of Queen’s Cross!’ Amelia cried excitedly, waving a newspaper wildly over her head as dust motes and silverfish rained down.
‘Eek, careful!’ I reached over and flicked a little silver critter off her shoulder.
‘Check this out!’ she said. ‘This article is dated one month after her death.’
QUEEN’S CROSS DEATH STILL MYSTIFIES
The cause of this woman’s death is still undetermined. The body was found partially incinerated on the kitchen floor, surrounded by a black pot, a piece of stone confirmed to be rose quartz (not local to the area) and cooking ingredients including chillies, honey and salt. A large carving knife was lying next to the body.
No fingerprints were found at the scene other than the woman’s own. There were remnants of at least seven house candles, which detectives think could possibly have caused the fire, or at least contributed towards spreading it. Alternatively, an electrical spark could have caused the fire, as damage to the mains box had been found.
‘That sounds a lot like a magic spell gone wrong,’ I whispered.
‘That’s exactly what I was thinking,’ Amelia agreed.
There were two photos of the house below the article, one before the fire and one after.
‘I think it’s time to investigate the scene,’ I said.
The next afternoon Bryce, Dean, the twins and I took a walk down Queen’s Cross Road. The house where the woman had lived had been refurbished and extended in the years since the fire, but it was still identifiable.
As we approached, a lady with a Southern accent called out from the porch of the neighbouring home.
‘I recognise you – you’re Clark Chandler’s son,’ she said.
‘Well, hi, Mrs Greenlaw,’ Bryce said.
She was a large woman. She bustled energetically down her front path towards us and hugged Bryce.
‘His parents and I belong to the same golf club,’ she said to the rest of us with a smile. ‘What are y’all doing here? Having an afternoon stroll to take in some sun?’
She glanced up to the sky just as the perpetual sea-fog parted a little and allowed a hint of sunlight through.
‘We’re researching an unsolved mystery from fifteen years ago for a school project,’ Bryce said.
‘Oh, would that be the woman of Queen’s Cross?’
‘You know about her?’ I said excitedly.
‘Yes, of course. Her story is infamous on our street. Sad, though – the poor young thing was new to town, and no one came to bury her. I remember there was a collection to raise money for her funeral.’
My heart went out to the anonymous dead woman, and I felt even more resolved to find out who she was and why she had died.
‘Do y’all go to Summerland High?’ Mrs Greenlaw looked us up and down in a friendly way.
‘Yes,’ said Dean.
‘Well, one of your teachers lives in there! Such a nice man . . .’
At that moment the front door of the house swung open and a familiar figure walked out.
Mrs Greenlaw turned and waved with a cheery smile. ‘Good evening, Mr Barrow!’ she called.
I involuntarily took a step back. My creepy chemistry teacher lived in the woman of Queen’s Cross’s house!
Mr Barrow lifted his hand in greeting to Mrs Greenlaw, but then turned away and went back inside. No doubt he hadn’t been expecting to encounter his least favourite group of students on the street outside his house.
Mrs Greenlaw shrugged. ‘He’s a bit of a loner, but he does help me take out my bins when the trash man comes.’
We sat around one of the big tables at the Purple Raven a bit later, going over the various articles and notes we’d collected so far.
After re-reading the newspaper article Amelia had found the day before, I was convinced the woman of Queen’s Cross had been doing a magical ritual of some kind when her house had caught on fire. But I didn’t believe her death had been an accident. My gut was telling me there was more to it.
‘Our guts are saying that, too,’ the twins said.
Brenda overheard our conversation and came over to the table. ‘You should always pay attention to your gut,’ she sai
d. ‘You can trust your hunches when you feel them there. It’s where your solar-plexus chakra is – the centre of your being. That’s why we eat after a ritual.’
‘Well, my gut is telling me this woman was murdered,’ I said.
‘Stop being so dramatic, Vania! Why on earth do you think she was murdered?’ Dean said.
‘Because one report says the mains box looked tampered with. And because if she’d just knocked over a candle she should have been able to get out. Why did she just stay there on the floor? It doesn’t make any sense. Unless someone killed her first and then tried to make it look like an accident.’
‘I’m not sure we’re expected to solve an actual murder,’ Dean said. ‘It’s just a school subject after all.’
‘No, it’s more than that now,’ I said.
‘Pandora’s box,’ murmured Brenda.
‘What’s that?’ Dean asked.
‘According to Greek mythology, Pandora was the first woman in the world, and she was given a box to take care of by the god Zeus. Zeus told her not to open it, but curiosity got the better of her, and she opened the box.’ Brenda paused dramatically.
‘And what happened?’ Dean said.
‘Terrible evil and misfortune poured out of it, but she managed to close it before everything escaped.’
‘What stayed in the box?’
‘Hope.’
‘I hope we solve this mystery,’ Alyssa said, sitting back with her arms folded.
‘I think we will,’ Bryce said, ‘and I agree with Vania – there’s something really fishy about all this.’
‘Maybe I could ask my father to help? Maybe get the case reopened?’ I suggested.
‘I think we should keep this on the down-low for now,’ said Bryce. ‘There must be some reason the newspaper never reported on the possibility of murder. Someone’s hiding something. Let’s not draw too much attention to the case again just yet.’
‘Okay, so say Vania’s hunch is correct and this woman was doing a witchcraft ritual; what does that have to do with someone killing her?’ Dean asked.
‘Think about the history of witchcraft,’ said Brenda. ‘There are tons of reports of women being killed as witches, and most of them never had any powers at all. Witches have long been the victims of hysteria and fear. And it wasn’t always women who were accused of witchcraft, it was men and children too – even animals!
