Chapter Twenty-Three

The dusk air was crisp, and the sky a glowing red as Callum made his way to Gran’s cottage. He had barely said two words at school the entire day – all he could think about was the mystery of the vision that Melissa and Gran had helped him generate the previous evening. Even Melissa had seemed subdued in their classes together, with dark circles under her eyes that suggested she’d had just as little sleep as Callum had.

It was almost a relief that Gran had insisted he come home straight from school for once. Part of Callum was annoyed that he wouldn’t get the chance to quiz Jacob on the vision, but he was also relieved to have a night off from practising his powers. He was exhausted, and he needed an opportunity to switch his mind off for a while.

But Callum was still feeling distracted as he made his way up the lane . . . until something moving in the corner of his eye brought his mind sharply into focus. Something intangible and misty grey was floating back and forth on one side of the road. Callum turned slowly, warily, and the movement stopped.

Another ghost. Again, this one was unfamiliar, but even though it wasn’t as physically threatening the disfigured phantom that had tried to attack Callum and Melissa not so long ago, it was still unsettling. The ethereal, tall wraith was a woman. Her feet didn’t seem to touch the ground, but her long, colourless skirts floated round her ankles, and her pale neck was held at a an unnatural angle. Callum swallowed as he saw the dark rope hanging limply around it. She’d been hanged.

He turned to continue down the path, hoping this disturbing spectre would leave him alone, but as he took another step the woman began to float alongside him again. The orange-red light of the setting sun illuminated her with a fiery glow.

‘Go away,’ Callum said under his breath but, at that, the spirit’s black eyes widened.

‘Please, please, I’m sorry,’ she said, her voice like the wind moving through dried autumn leaves. Callum shivered and quickened his pace doing his best to ignore her. The ghost continued floating alongside him.

‘Please!’ she said again. ‘Please, I did not mean to . . . I did not, it was an accident, I beg of you please, please, help me, I’m stuck here. Help me get away from here, please.’

It was only then that Callum realised she was holding something. He grimaced as she floated in front of him and held the bundle out before her. It was a baby, or the apparition of one – but it did not move. Its eyes were closed and its mouth hung open, slack and motionless.

‘STOP!’ Callum shouted and rushed forwards. All he wanted was to get away from this nightmarish image. He just wanted to be able to do something about it all.

Callum winced as he felt himself pass through an icy pocket of air. When he turned his head to see what had happened, he realised that he’d run straight through the ghostly woman, who swirled like smoke and then reformed. She stopped following Callum, a crestfallen look on her face. She watched miserably as he hurried away, her head still at its woeful angle, the ghost-baby now cradled limply in her arms.

Callum didn’t look back again until he was at the door to the cottage. At least he knew the ghost wouldn’t be able to follow him into the house, with all the protective spells Gran kept the cottage cloaked in. Reluctantly, he glanced over his shoulder. The spirit was still looking sadly at him as she drifted backwards down the lane. Callum shivered. Things were getting darker and darker, like a gathering storm, with every day that passed.

But in some strange way the woman’s sad, lonely face made Callum think again of his own mother. He missed her more and more each day; his sense of loss felt almost as vivid as it had three years ago. If only he could catch a glimpse of her ghost. He needed something, some sign that things were going to work out OK. Maybe Gran’s right, Callum thought. Maybe this was all a mistake and I’m in way over my head?

He glanced over his shoulder one last time before he stepped inside the cottage. The woman was still drifting slowly back up the path. She left a trail of soft grey mist in her wake. Callum exhaled a lungful of air and quickly opened the door to let himself inside.

He strode straight into the kitchen and poured a glass of water. He’d gulped half of it down before he realised that Gran was sitting in the living room, staring intently at a book on her lap.

‘Hey,’ he said in surprise. She looked up, and Callum immediately knew something was wrong.

‘Callum, I’m glad you’re back,’ she said, her voice solemn. ‘I have a feeling this is something you’re going to want to see.’

So much for an evening off, Callum thought as he walked over to see what his grandmother was holding out to him. The book was small and leather-bound, with a worn red cover.

‘I remembered where I’d heard the phrase from your vision,’ Gran said. ‘This is a book of poetry that my own grandmother gave me when I was a young girl. They’re poems by Robert Browning.’

Callum read the page that Gran was holding open, and frowned. There, in black and white, were the lines he had heard being whispered mysteriously in his vision:

Callum looked up in surprise. ‘It’s about the Pied Piper?’ he said.

Gran nodded.

‘This really doesn’t sound good,’ Callum said. ‘Luring children away? The kid in my vision was in a trance, being taken off somewhere. That’s exactly the sort of thing Black Annis would do.’

Gran took the book back from Callum and stared at the words again, her lips moving silently as she repeated them to herself.

‘Well, we know that even though it’s a poem from our world, there must be some link with the Netherworld or the phrase wouldn’t have cropped up in your vision.’

‘Yeah,’ Callum agreed. ‘But what could it be?’

‘I have a feeling . . . Sometimes, magic can be woven into seemingly innocuous words,’ Gran began cautiously. ‘I have a feeling that may be what has happened. Someone has worked an enchantment into the words of this poem, something that, if they use them in the right context, will make them into a potentially very powerful spell.’

Callum looked at his Gran, who was pacing back and forth in the small living room, her arms folded, her brow furrowed with shock and concern.

‘That could be it,’ he said, his mind racing. ‘Black Annis could be using a spell to . . . Oh, no. Gran, I’d better go and –’

‘Callum, please.’

Gran’s stern voice stopped Callum in his tracks.

‘Wait. Even if it is a spell, what exactly do you think you’ll be able to do? Where are you going to go? Please, just give me some time to think about it a bit more. You shouldn’t do anything rash tonight.’

Callum clenched his teeth. He knew she was right. There was no point trying to do anything right now. Grudgingly, he trudged upstairs and put down his school bag. He could hear Gran starting to make supper downstairs – her answer to most problems was some hearty comfort food. But Callum didn’t think there was any food in the world that would comfort him right now. He was itching to get out there, to do something. Perhaps this scheme to lure children away had already begun, and here he was waiting for his supper?

Callum managed to make it through dinner without leaping up and out of the door. But as soon as Gran began to clear their plates away, he decided there was at least one thing she couldn’t object to.

‘I’m going to give Melissa a ring,’ he said, already stepping over to the old-fashioned telephone and placing one hand on the receiver. ‘She’s been just as worried about this as I have. I think I should let her know we’ve found something.’

Callum had already started to dial as Gran nodded and took the rest of the crockery through to the kitchen. He was grateful to hear Melissa’s voice at the other end of the line. He hastily explained what Gran had found, and her theory about the words being used as an incantation.

‘Really? Blimey,’ Melissa breathed. ‘But hold on a minute – does it make sense that Black Annis would use such a complicated spell to lure children? It doesn’t sound like her style. She’s more of a snatch-and-grab type, isn’t she?’

‘Well, there’d been that kid who was taken from the supermarket, but I’ve been thinking – there’s no way Annis would have been able to just wander in there in broad daylight,’ Callum said, his shoulders sagging. ‘I know what you mean, a spell like this is too subtle for her.’

Then, all of a sudden, something occurred to him. He cupped the mouthpiece and glanced back to the kitchen where his gran was now splashing and clattering as she washed up the dishes.

‘Wait a second,’ Callum whispered down the phone. ‘Jacob said that Black Annis grows stronger the more she feeds, right?’

‘Yeah . . .’

‘And we know the coven have some purpose for her, from my vision?’

‘Mmm . . .’

‘Well, what if it’s the coven? What if they’re the ones luring children? What if they want to feed her up, make her as strong as possible before they sacrifice her?’

Callum heard Melissa gasp. ‘You’re right, that would make sense – the more sophisticated magic? How many children are they planning to take? How many are they going to kill? Callum what are we going to do?’

‘The only thing I can think of right now is to go and speak to Jacob,’ Callum said, his heart rate quickening as he heard his grandmother finishing up in the kitchen. ‘I’m going to have to sneak out though. Gran’s getting really nervy,’ he whispered, and then straightened up as his grandmother came back into the room, eyeing him suspiciously.

‘Uh, look Melissa, I’ve got to go,’ he said, his voice back to its normal volume.

‘OK, but Callum, wait,’ she said. ‘If you’re going to see Jacob, I’m coming with you. Half-past midnight. I’ll see you there.’

The dial tone sounded before Callum could protest.