LITMIR.BIZ

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could see it. We must’ve looked off our heads, prancing around in her back garden, wearing winter coats in the middle of summer.’ Merry smiled. ‘That was a great day.’

      ‘Yeah, it was.’ Leo sighed. ‘Not so much fun after Mum found out what was going on, and she and Gran had that argument though, was it.’

      That argument. It really deserved capital letters: That Argument. In the whole of Leo and Merry’s childhood, Mum had never practised the craft in front of them. She wouldn’t even talk about it; she got cross once just because Merry wanted to dress as a witch for a fancy dress party. Halloween was a no-go area. So when, on Merry’s twelfth birthday, Gran had asked if she wanted to be tested, to see if she was a witch, Merry had hesitated. But only for about two minutes. Sure, Mum would disapprove – if she found out – but to have the chance to learn some of the stuff she’d seen Gran doing … there wasn’t really any question about it.

      Merry knew she would remember the night of the test her whole life. Since she couldn’t yet cast any spells, her ability had to be evaluated by seeing how well she could resist spells cast by other witches. Taken to a hidden spot up on the downs, blindfolded and left in the darkness, she had only heard the voices of the witches who were testing her. They didn’t speak to her directly, and half the time they were using a language she didn’t understand; it had taken every ounce of her courage not to tear off the blindfold and run, especially once the spells began to hurt. She emerged from the experience with a broken arm and what looked like sunburn all down one side of her body. But apparently that was an excellent result: most of those tested didn’t get off half as lightly. So Merry was delighted, even though she was stepping into the unknown, even though she knew nothing would ever be the same –

      Too delighted: she forgot the secrecy Gran insisted on, and let something slip to her mother. Mum wasn’t just disapproving. She went ballistic. The sleepovers at Gran’s were banned, the proposed magical training was banned, and Merry was forced to promise that she would never, ever do magic. Gran was forced to promise that she wouldn’t teach her anything, at the risk of all contact being severed. Even then, Mum started to limit the amount of time they spent with Gran. She said she wanted them to be normal children – which was totally hypocritical, since Merry was certain that Mum still did some spells herself – but four years on, Merry could sort of see her point. Messing about with a little bit of magic – casting spells so boys would like you, or so you’d get picked for the netball team – it was all well and good when it was just fun, when you were just using it to make life a little bit easier. But it could go bad so quickly. And bad, where magic was concerned, was really bad …

      ‘Hey, Merry?’ Leo was waving his hand in front of her face. ‘Shall we?’

      ‘Oh – sure. Let’s get it over with.’

      They got out of the car and walked up to the front door. As they stepped on to the porch, Merry glanced up, and raised her eyebrows: three horseshoes nailed up now, instead of just one. They had three at home too, though she had never thought to ask Mum why. Leo raised his hand to ring the doorbell, but the door swung open of its own accord. He shot Merry a look of exasperation as they trudged forwards into the hallway. The door slammed shut behind them.

      They found Gran in the kitchen. She was smartly dressed as always: grey tailored trousers and a pale blue cashmere sweater, silver drop earrings, her grey hair cut into a fashionable, spiky bob. Not a wart in sight.

      ‘Come here, the pair of you. Give me a kiss.’

      Merry dropped a kiss on Gran’s cheek and stepped back, but Gran took hold of her shoulders.

      ‘I can’t believe I haven’t seen you since Christmas. Let me look at you …’ She scanned Merry’s face for a few seconds before pulling her into a tight hug. ‘Well, you’ll be fine. I’m certain of it.’

      ‘What do you mean, Gran? Why wouldn’t I be fine?’

      Gran released Merry and shooed her towards the kitchen table.

      ‘Sit down. We’ve got a lot to talk about.’

      Once the kettle had boiled, Gran put three mugs and a teapot on the table. Merry poured out some tea and took a sip. It had the same strange taste she remembered; slightly bitter and grassy, though Gran had always sworn it was just regular PG Tips. True or not, somehow the tea was comforting.

      ‘So. You found the trinket box?’

      ‘Yes.’ Merry glanced at Leo. ‘It woke us up on Monday night. When I touched it I had a sort of … vision. A boy, on a throne. I’ve been having nightmares about him. And then on Tuesday night—’

      ‘He broke into the house, Gran,’ Leo interrupted. ‘He was in Merry’s bedroom. And the box is growing. What’s going on?’

      For a moment Gran covered her eyes with one blue-veined hand. Sometimes, Merry reflected, it was easy to forget how old her grandmother actually was.

      ‘I didn’t know this was going to happen, Leo. It was all so long ago, I had hoped …’ She picked up her mug, staring into its depths as though she was trying to read the future. ‘I begged your mother to talk to Merry about it. But, over the last couple of years, I almost convinced myself that Bronwen was right: the evil would never awaken, and Merry would never need to be involved.’ She sighed. ‘I was wrong.’

      Merry’s breath caught in her throat.

      ‘What – what evil? Mum knows? What does she know?’

      ‘And what about the box?’ Leo added. ‘How do we get rid of it? It’s following Merry around.’

      ‘Do you have it here?’ Gran asked.

      Leo nodded and pulled the trinket box out of his bag. Gran touched it gently, running her fingers over the patterned lid in the same way Merry had done the night they found it.

      ‘Fifteen centuries have been and gone since this box was created. Just like the key you used to open it.’ There was a low whistle from Leo. ‘It’s made of willow wood and set with flint, for protection.’

      ‘Protection from that boy, Gran? Or from something else?’ Merry wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer. There was something in Gran’s blue eyes that made the skin between her shoulder blades tingle. Someone walking over my grave.

      ‘The box itself does not offer protection. It is merely the canary in the mine.’

      Merry and Leo stared at each other blankly. Gran groaned.

      ‘This is what comes of a modern education. It’s like a – an air raid signal, or the countdown to a bomb going off.’

      ‘You mean it’s a warning?’

      ‘Yes!’

      ‘Well, you could have just said so,’ muttered Leo. ‘What’s it supposed to be warning us about?’

      ‘It is warning us that time is running out.’

      Geez. Merry knew there was a time and a place for being cryptic and mysterious, probably, but this was definitely not it.

      ‘Please, Gran, can you just, like, lay it out for us?’

      Gran raised an eyebrow.

      ‘Very well.’ She sat up straighter in her chair. ‘There is a powerful wizard, a master of dark magic, sleeping under the Black Lake. His servant – that boy – is already awake: he is responsible for the recent attacks. If the wizard himself awakes and escapes the lake, he will create an army of such servants: humans, possessed and controlled by dark magic drawn by him from the shadow realm. An army whose purpose is to destroy all love in the world.’

      Merry swallowed.

      ‘Controlled by dark magic from the shadow realm? What does that even mean?’

      ‘The … things of the shadow realm are, as I understand it, more like … evil forces, powerless in themselves, until they are given a human body. Then they will obey the one who gives them human form, the one

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