Chapter 1: Some Very Old Books
I will only say this once, so take this notice as read for each chapter. I do not own anything you recognise.
Success is the sum of many things, as my head of year has decided we must be told. It is very helpful you are taking the time to tell us this with a sum total of 2 weeks before exam season. Please, finish your speech and we can go and revise and become successful.
Actually, I probably will not spend much time revising. I have severely been infected by what our American cousins would call 'senioritis'. I spent a week and a half in the States earlier this year on a school exchange. My friends gave the definition of this condition as "The feeling that you cannot be bothered to work at the latter end of the year because it will not change anything." This definitely described the mood in the sixth form block. Yet, we are shackled to our textbooks. Trapped between concrete and glass. The never ending claustrophobia of the exam season. All day you sit hidden from fresh air, from feeling the sun on your face and the smell of pollen on the breeze.
Sometimes you just want to lie in a meadow unconnected from everything for an hour. I often walk down to the reservoir during my lunch break and I shall sit for the hour doing fuck all. But even then I listen to music, because I am a child of the modern day. I cannot bear to hear silence. I don't hear the birds or the wind because I am enthralled to the crooning of Nick Cave and Rufus Wainwright.
Eventually I will retreat inside, forced to feel guilt for not pressing my nose to that grindstone, for wasting a precious hour. Inside, back hidden from anything natural by the manmade jungle. Back to our books to whom we are chained with the promise of knowledge. This isn't true knowledge, it is a way to enslave you to the ideals of a perfect society, to make you a conforming drone. The so called knowledge is not setting you free at all.
Hopefully this short explanation has told you everything about my apathy to life. To summarise – if you are taking exams, it's shit. I have no idea why I have chosen to subject myself to another 3 years of education. Why did I even choose to spend 2 years in a bloody school sixth form when I could be living the high life at a college?
But, as it always does, the exam season has come around. With university places on the line, motivation to succeed is high. One day this will all be worth it.
The hall is set up as it always is, rows upon rows of desks ending at the stage. A huge clock is projected on the front of the hall the second hand ticking away the moments until the end of the paper.
The euphoria I felt after the last exam was immense. The burden that was on my shoulders would exist no more. I ran down the road towards the reservoir screaming for joy. I plonked myself down by the water's edge and plucked a flower from the grass. I stared at it for a while. Holy shit, did that flower just move? I swear it did. And it definitely wasn't that size when I picked it. The petals had grown more lilac, definitely.
Then just like that, it wilted. Almost as soon as I realised what was happening it wilted. That was the final straw. I screamed.
Crazy stuff would happen when I was little. Nothing major. But sometimes it felt as if I would stay in the air just too long when on the trampoline. Or that a glass would tip when no-one was touching it. I had long ago dismissed it because really, it could have been anything. But after the display at the reservoir just now I found myself rethinking everything. I wasn't into the whole religion thing, so I didn't see it as some sign from the man upstairs. I mean, even if it was, what a waste of a miracle to manipulate a flower. But that didn't leave me with a whole lot of options. If I was a child, I would say it was telekinesis, much like Matilda in the Roald Dahl book. However, I am not a child. Such things do not exist, surely.
Besides, telekinesis might explain the other things, but Matilda certainly could not manipulate living things, only inanimate objects. So why did that flower grow?
DotDotDot
I was in my room, packing. To put it simply, I was not going to stick around. I didn't need my bed; I needed answers. My parents wouldn't be home until later so I left a note telling them I was going to visit a friend and I'd be back in a few days. They wouldn't be pleased, but hey, I'm an adult. My backpack sat on my desk as I crammed things into it: a couple of t-shirts, a spare pair of jeans, as many clean socks, bras and knickers as I could grab. This little trip could take a while. In went my toothbrush and assorted toiletries. My tablet, laptop, headphones and respective charger.
I was practically walking out the door as I discarded my suit for something more comfortable. It's a long drive to the National Library of Wales. Why there, I hear you cry? Because I needed to find some very old books.
My best friend had just completed her first year as a History Undergrad in Aberystwyth and was spending the summer gaining work experience at the library. My logic was that what happened to me can't have been unique, even if the only records of it are hidden deep in the most obscure books. If I need obscure books I have to go somewhere that has every book. Oh, and I'd need someone to help me find those weird books. I needed a floor to kip on and a guide who knew the library back to front; Katie was the woman for the job. I rung her asking to crash at hers and she was more than pleased. She also promised to take me to the pubs tonight. I hadn't told her why I needed her help though.
The drive to Aberystwyth is actually really pleasant. Once you get past Kidderminster it's all country A roads and small towns. Mitch, my car, was my 17th Birthday present. Dependable thing he is. He had been my Mum's car, but she wanted a newer car just as I was old enough to have my own car. Also, he was sort of compensation for the fact we live in the middle of nowhere. My parents pay my insurance; I have a job in the local pub to pay for fuel. Me and Mitch knew one another, so we settled down for the drive, with Flogging Molly blaring out the windows, as we headed into the summer sun. "Death Valley Queen, Where have you been, Since they crowned you in glory, Filled your head with dreams…"
DotDotDot
I've been to visit Katie a few times since she moved and the view you get of Aberystwyth as you reach the top of the hill overlooking the bay still takes my breath away. The other thing that took my breath away was Katie's bear hug that she bestowed on me the minute I walked into the library. She then forcibly propelled me out the door, yelling to her supervisor to have a nice weekend. On the walk to the bar I was told in no uncertain terms that I was to pay for my own drinks as she was broke enough as it was. It was strange being in The Cambrian outside term time – the place was dead. On the other hand, it did mean that we could hear each other talk.
"How was the last exam?"
"The exam was shit, the minute the clock turned 11 I was ecstatic."
"Same as always, hey? I wouldn't hold out your hopes for next year, it's just as bad at uni."
It went on for over an hour, us just catching up like nothing was wrong. I wasn't going to advertise that in public, even if it was a deserted bar. On our way back to her halls we swung by the chip shop, which makes it sound if we are hammered, but honestly guv, I swear I only had two bottles of Kopparberg. This sort of serious discussion required my wits to be about me.
With my best mate a year older than me I had been inside more student digs than I cared to count in the past 9 months. The halls she ended up in for the summer were no better than the ones she had before exams. On the plus side they were closer to the National Library than her seafront room had been. Ironically it also had the sea view you would have assumed she got before, but instead the previous room overlooked the bins out back. We carried our precious cargo through to the kitchen, briefly opening the door to her room for me to sling my backpack in.
My parents were texting me like crazy so I tried to throw them off saying that I was talking to Katie after my last exam and she offered me a floor to kip on and someone to celebrate with. The key is to stick to the truth as far as possible. There'd be hell to pay when I got home, but this couldn't wait.
The rest of Katie's flat mates were out. Most of them had summer jobs and went home at weekends. The rest were probably celebrating the weekend down at Yoko's. I couldn't care less really. The chip wrappings lay between us at the breakfast bar, crumbs everywhere from bread. Chip Butties really are the best food.
"Something is up." That was definitely a statement. "Not that I don't appreciate your company, it's always a great laugh when you come to visit. But a mysterious phone call with the bullshit excuse you need to use the library for some project? You don't think I was fooled. You have that brand new Library of Birmingham not half an hour from your house. That has pretty much all the books you need!" She pause to grab a chip, "So what the real deal?"
"You have to promise not to laugh?" She nodded silently. "After my last exam I went to sit down by the reser, you know, like how we all used to sit around last summer and make daisy chains and stuff for jokes. Well, I picked this flower and I swear to fucking God it started growing in my hand." Katie went sheet white at this statement.
"Lizzy, it started growing and it was in no way attached to the ground?"
I went really high pitched, "And then it just died. Like that." I clicked my fingers. "What the fuck happened? So I need someone I trust to help me research it. I can't be the only person who this has happened to, right? I need someone to help me find those books. So I came to the one place and one person I know who can get pretty much every book ever published. Please," I squeaked even higher, "Please will you help me?
"This is bad. I mean real bad."
"If you'd rather I just left, I'll go."
"Elizabeth Clarke, as if I would do that to you. That is not what I meant. But something is seriously wrong here. Has anything like this happened before."
"I…I think there were a few odd things when I was little. But glasses of water getting mysteriously knocked over don't mean I'm the next Matilda."
"Shit Shit Shit! What to do!"
"Katie, you're scaring me. Are you ok?"
"Oh fuck it. Do you remember Alex?" Alex was Katie's younger brother, he was probably 13, I don't remember. He disappeared to boarding school when he should have started secondary school, apparently he won some kind of scholarship. I'd barely seen him since then, not that I saw him much before, either.
"What on earth does Alex have to do with this?"
"Bloody hell Liz, I shouldn't be telling you this. Magic exists! Alright, I said it! They gave him a place at some magic school up in Scotland." I was now infinitely glad the flat was deserted. "And from what you've told me," She paused, closing her eyes, "I think you might be magic too."
