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Authors: Gill Arbuthnott
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waver, as though she was seeing it through a heat haze.
Tap
.
Tap. Tap
.
The hair stood up on Callie’s neck.
Crack!
The sound of hammer on stone, coming from under the floor, from under the bed where she knelt.
Too frightened to move, she tried desperately to remember one of the spells of protection that Rose had been teaching her, but all the words had fled.
The noise was all around now, coming from the floor, the walls, the ceiling… Why could no one else hear it?
Beside her the cat gave a tremulous yowl and rose to her feet, stiff-legged. Callie followed her gaze and saw to her horror a figure uncoiling itself from the blackness under the desk, arms reaching up…
7. CONFESSION
A dark figure reared up into the room as Callie shrank back in terror.
“What on earth are you doing to the cat?”
The door opened, the main light went on and, inexplicably, her father spoke into silence. Where the figure had been there was only the floor and the desk and the wall.
“Callie? What are you doing? It’s two in the morning.”
“I’m… What? I’m…”
“Did you have another nightmare?”
“No… I… I don’t know.”
Chutney Mary was sitting on the bed licking her paws as though nothing had happened. Callie tried to collect what was left of her mind.
“What did you do to the cat?” her father asked again.
“Nothing. She woke me up hissing. What woke you?”
“The noise the cat was making, of course. Why? Did you hear things again?”
“No. No,” said Callie firmly. “Just the cat.”
“Put her out and shut the window so she can’t get back in.”
“No. I’m sure she’ll be quiet now.”
“She’d better be, or I’ll put her out myself. Goodnight.”
David shut the door.
For a few minutes, Callie stared at the perfectly ordinary, unthreatening space under the desk, then she glanced at the cat, who was already asleep again.
“Unbelievable,” she muttered, and tiptoed over to the desk to check it properly.
There was no sign that anything out of the ordinary had just happened, but this time Callie had no doubts that it had.
She marshalled her thoughts and whispered the words of a spell of protection under her breath, then checked every inch of the room before getting back into bed. She couldn’t stop looking at the desk, but with the main light and the bedside lamp on there wasn’t even a scrap of shadow underneath it.
All the same, Callie kept an eye on it. She didn’t understand how the cat could go straight back to sleep, but it must be a good sign, surely? Chutney Mary seemed to have some sort of radar for whatever was happening, and it clearly wasn’t picking anything up just now. Callie was somewhat reassured by that, but not nearly enough to even consider going back to sleep. She settled down to wait for morning.
***
The cat was tramping back and forward across her chest to wake her.
To wake her
. That meant she must have fallen asleep. How could she have slept? And yet, looking back now, the frightening events of the night were hazy in her memory. She couldn’t have been dreaming. She couldn’t have. Could she?
Perhaps she should tell Rose, but there was something she needed to try first. She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it sooner.
Callie fumbled for her alarm clock. Eight thirty. The house was silent: both her parents would already have left for work.
She decided not to bother with a shower. After all, she’d be in and out of the sea later, and she had more important things to do. She got dressed then went downstairs and rummaged through cupboards until she found a couple of candles.
Would she still be able to do this now that it mattered?
Callie took the candles out into the back garden, put them on a flat stone and set light to them with a thought.
She took a couple of deep breaths, then began to draw the flames upward to weave the net of lights that she hoped would protect the house. Of course, she had never tried to cast a net over anything
Tap
.
Tap. Tap
.
The hair stood up on Callie’s neck.
Crack!
The sound of hammer on stone, coming from under the floor, from under the bed where she knelt.
Too frightened to move, she tried desperately to remember one of the spells of protection that Rose had been teaching her, but all the words had fled.
The noise was all around now, coming from the floor, the walls, the ceiling… Why could no one else hear it?
Beside her the cat gave a tremulous yowl and rose to her feet, stiff-legged. Callie followed her gaze and saw to her horror a figure uncoiling itself from the blackness under the desk, arms reaching up…
7. CONFESSION
A dark figure reared up into the room as Callie shrank back in terror.
“What on earth are you doing to the cat?”
The door opened, the main light went on and, inexplicably, her father spoke into silence. Where the figure had been there was only the floor and the desk and the wall.
“Callie? What are you doing? It’s two in the morning.”
“I’m… What? I’m…”
“Did you have another nightmare?”
“No… I… I don’t know.”
Chutney Mary was sitting on the bed licking her paws as though nothing had happened. Callie tried to collect what was left of her mind.
“What did you do to the cat?” her father asked again.
“Nothing. She woke me up hissing. What woke you?”
“The noise the cat was making, of course. Why? Did you hear things again?”
“No. No,” said Callie firmly. “Just the cat.”
“Put her out and shut the window so she can’t get back in.”
“No. I’m sure she’ll be quiet now.”
“She’d better be, or I’ll put her out myself. Goodnight.”
David shut the door.
For a few minutes, Callie stared at the perfectly ordinary, unthreatening space under the desk, then she glanced at the cat, who was already asleep again.
“Unbelievable,” she muttered, and tiptoed over to the desk to check it properly.
There was no sign that anything out of the ordinary had just happened, but this time Callie had no doubts that it had.
She marshalled her thoughts and whispered the words of a spell of protection under her breath, then checked every inch of the room before getting back into bed. She couldn’t stop looking at the desk, but with the main light and the bedside lamp on there wasn’t even a scrap of shadow underneath it.
All the same, Callie kept an eye on it. She didn’t understand how the cat could go straight back to sleep, but it must be a good sign, surely? Chutney Mary seemed to have some sort of radar for whatever was happening, and it clearly wasn’t picking anything up just now. Callie was somewhat reassured by that, but not nearly enough to even consider going back to sleep. She settled down to wait for morning.
***
The cat was tramping back and forward across her chest to wake her.
To wake her
. That meant she must have fallen asleep. How could she have slept? And yet, looking back now, the frightening events of the night were hazy in her memory. She couldn’t have been dreaming. She couldn’t have. Could she?
Perhaps she should tell Rose, but there was something she needed to try first. She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it sooner.
Callie fumbled for her alarm clock. Eight thirty. The house was silent: both her parents would already have left for work.
She decided not to bother with a shower. After all, she’d be in and out of the sea later, and she had more important things to do. She got dressed then went downstairs and rummaged through cupboards until she found a couple of candles.
Would she still be able to do this now that it mattered?
Callie took the candles out into the back garden, put them on a flat stone and set light to them with a thought.
She took a couple of deep breaths, then began to draw the flames upward to weave the net of lights that she hoped would protect the house. Of course, she had never tried to cast a net over anything
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