Page 4 of Blackheath


  “Yeah, I do,” Joel shot back, shifting the weight of his backpack on his shoulder. “Which is more than I can say for you.”

  He winced when he noticed the aura around her shift and fade. Where just moments ago her energy had been easy and light, it now darkened around her in a pained way.

  Sorry, he wanted to say. But no words came out.

  She gathered herself and folded her arms over her chest. “I wouldn’t brag about your home if I were you,” she said defensively. “From what I’ve heard, your new house is a creepy old hell-pit for witches.”

  Joel smiled in spite of the affront—mostly because that was exactly how he described the place, too.

  “What are you doing out here, anyway?” he returned the question. “Are you following me?”

  “Pah!” she spluttered. “In your dreams, maybe. And not that it’s any of your business, but I’m going to the carnival.”

  Joel raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you are following me, then.”

  Maggie’s eyes narrowed. “No,” she replied, drawing out the word with annoyance. “This is an unfortunate coincidence, that’s all. You would have stayed well ahead of me if you hadn’t stopped to do your. . . your. . .” She waved vaguely towards the scattering of leaves on the pavement. “Tree assault,” she finally finished.

  “Well, I’m going to move on now, so why don’t you try keeping your distance this time?” Joel suggested tautly. “Neither of us would want any more unfortunate coincidences to happen again, now would we?”

  He made a shooing motion with his hands before continuing along the street. He didn’t look back, but he knew that Maggie had waited for a good count of ten before she began walking, too.

  And so they walked a mile and a half to the carnival—alone, together.

  THE SCENT OF hot buttered popcorn and cotton candy floated through the carnival. Neon lights from the rides and stalls lit up the night sky, and the tuneful sounds of games and merriment played on a loop in the most comforting of ways.

  Comforting to Joel, anyway. The carnival was home to him. It was his kingdom, and he and Evan were the princes. After all, they’d practically grown up there, playing in The Incredible Psychic Madam Emerald’s fortune telling tent, helping Quite Old Aunt Ruby run the night shift, and selling tickets for Alleged Aunt Topaz’s tarot card readings when they were barely tall enough to reach the fence. And then, when all the carnival-goers had gone home and the lights and music began to shut down, Joel and Evan would race along the train tracks in the Haunted House in the pitch black until their pulses were beating so fast they felt as though their hearts would burst.

  Maximus hadn’t been around back then, Joel remembered as he took his usual post selling tickets at the Haunted House, waiting for the customers to roll in. It wasn’t long after their mother had left, and Maximus had spent years searching for her. He’d taken Ainsley, who was only a toddler at the time, and left eight-year-old Joel and nine-year-old Evan under the care of the alleged aunts. The aunts weren’t exactly maternal, so Evan and Joel decided to take care of each other. And they’d gotten pretty good at it, too. That was, until Maximus had come back and ruined it all.

  Why did he come back? Joel wondered bitterly. He should have left with her. Evan and me, we would have been just fine without him.

  “Hey,” said a voice, interrupting his thoughts.

  Joel inhaled a sharp breath, startled by the presence of a teenaged boy and girl approaching the metal gate where he sat, perched on top of the railing.

  His first customers of the night.

  “Two tickets,” the boy said cockily, slinging his arm around his redheaded girlfriend’s shoulders in a lazy, possessive sort of way.

  Joel unzipped the money pouch that was tied loosely around his hips and drew out a roll of tickets. He tore off two stubs and handed them to the boy in exchange for the cash.

  Joel was aware of the girl’s eyes travelling over him—and so, it seemed, was her boyfriend. Flinching at the affront, the boy drew his girlfriend closer, trying to recapture her gaze, but her focus stayed on Joel as he unhooked the rope barrier and gestured for them to take a seat on the train.

  Blushing, the redhead thanked him profusely. Her date grimaced.

  As the twosome seated themselves in a cart at the back of the train, another couple arrived. They were older, in their late thirties and wearing wedding bands. The couple laughed between themselves as they bought their tickets and boarded the train. Only once did the woman’s eyes flicker to Joel. He looked away quickly.

  He wouldn’t have minded so much that people often took notice of him—hell, sometimes he even kind of liked it—but it felt like cheating somehow. It was almost like they were being tricked into noticing something different about him. Something compelling that they couldn’t quite explain.

  They were seeing a witch.

  A trio of girls were next in the queue. They giggled infectiously as they bought their tickets and climbed aboard the train. Joel recognised them from school, but they were a few years younger than him. The energy around them was strange, Joel decided. Bright pink—not something he was used to. Most people had a dark or earthy coloured aura, with the odd one having a subtle jewel tone or, even more rarely, a warm-hued shimmer.

  One of the girls let out a shriek. “You guys!” she exclaimed to her friends, leaning over her cart to where her companions occupied a two-seater. “I’m alone back here. I’m going to freak out!”

  The duo in the cart ahead of her erupted into another fit of giggles.

  “Why don’t you ask you-know-who to sit with you?” one of them teased. “I bet he’ll protect you!”

  More giggles.

  The solo girl leaned over the edge of her train cart and a mass of highlighted blonde curls tumbled over her shoulders. “Hey, Joel!” she called, to the obvious delight of her friends. “Wanna sit with me? I’m scared.”

  Joel offered her a half-smile. “You’ll be fine.”

  She pouted back at him. “Your loss,” she said, dropping back into her seat.

  The trio resumed their giggling; the redheaded girlfriend kept glancing at Joel while her boyfriend vied for her attention; and the married couple buckled their safety belts before linking hands with each other.

  Even though there were still five or six carts left empty, Joel pulled on the lever and the train began making its way along the tracks, gaining speed as it disappeared through the black curtains that veiled the Haunted House.

  Moments later, screams of fear and cries of excitement echoed out into the carnival grounds.

  Joel Tomlins smiled to himself.

  He loved that sound.

  MAGGIE GRAPPLED WITH her enormous stick of cotton candy, tearing off tacky pieces with her fingers and letting them dissolve on her tongue while Isla relayed the latest Kaden stories.

  “I don’t want to get my hopes up,” Isla was saying as the two of them wandered through the carnival grounds, “but I think he might be interested in me.” She broke into a nervous grin, her brown eyes wide as she waited for Maggie’s reaction.

  “Well, of course he’s interested in you,” Maggie assured her, simultaneously untangling a chunk of pink cotton candy from her sandy-blonde tresses. “I mean, why wouldn’t he be?”

  Isla let out a jittery breath. “You really think so? He’s going to be here tonight,” she said as she glanced over her shoulder into the maze of stalls and rides. “How do I look?” she asked, returning her gaze to Maggie.

  Even in the dim light of the carnival, it was plain to see that Isla looked immaculate. Her flawless skin glowed and her silky black hair was pulled into a complicated braid.

  Maggie gave up on trying to dislodge the sugary pink lump that was matted in her hair. “You look lovely,” she assured her friend. “And you are lovely. He’ll be crazy about you.”

  “But everyone wants him,” Isla sighed as they weaved their way between the throngs of people. “He can have his choice of anyone in school.”


  Maggie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “But anyone isn’t you,” she said obligingly.

  She decided not to add that, in her opinion, Kaden wasn’t all that special. Sure, he was the new guy, so that posed some novelty value. But besides that, she really didn’t get what all the fuss was about. He was nice to look at, she supposed, but the guy had barely said two words to anyone all week.

  Maybe that’s the appeal, Maggie thought. Brooding.

  The girls came to a stop at the ring toss stall. Absentmindedly, Isla pawed over the various prizes lined up on the table in front. She picked up a teddy bear and studied its sewn on black eyes.

  “Where is he?” Isla muttered. “He has to be here somewhere.”

  “Everyone’s here somewhere,” Maggie pointed out. Then she took another bite of cotton candy, much to the disapproval of one of the Tomlins’ family extensions who was running the ring toss booth.

  “No eating around the prizes,” the old woman barked, shooing the girls away from the collection of plush teddy bears and plastic water pistols.

  Maggie and Isla swapped an exasperated glance before they continued walking.

  “But how can I find out for sure whether he likes me or not?” Isla pressed. “How can I really know?”

  Maggie chewed thoughtfully on her latest pinch of cotton candy. “Maybe you could just ask him,” she said after she’d swallowed.

  Isla’s neatly arched eyebrows flew upwards in surprise. “What? Are you serious? Oh, no. I couldn’t possibly. . .” Her thought was suddenly forgotten and she let out an excited gasp. “Ooh, Mags, look!” she exclaimed. “Let’s go get our fortunes told!”

  Maggie followed Isla’s gaze across the crowded carnival grounds to where a purple tent had been set up. Beside it, a sign that read The Incredible Psychic Madam Emerald had been hammered into the earth.

  Maggie pursed her lips. She recognised that stall from previous years at the carnival. “I wouldn’t trust a Tomlins to tell me my fortune,” she warned Isla in a hushed voice.

  Isla waved her hand dismissively. “It’s just for fun. Don’t be so uptight.” Then she grabbed Maggie’s arm and started hauling her towards the little purple tent.

  “Hey!” Maggie protested.

  “Oh, come on,” Isla laughed. “Live a little! The Tomlins family isn’t that bad.”

  Maggie gave up and reluctantly let herself be led the rest of the way across the grounds. As they approached Madam Emerald’s stall, she noticed that the fortune teller’s sign had a disclaimer written in small print beneath the main lettering. The Incredible Psychic Madam Emerald will not be held accountable for bad news. No refunds.

  “I don’t like this, Isla,” Maggie hissed.

  But Isla had no time to reply. As if on cue, a woman poked her head out of the tent. She was large and gruff looking, with a complicated silk turban fixed atop her head and a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. She extended her arm, causing the various coins attached to her outfit to jingle.

  “You haf come to find out your future,” the woman rasped in a strange, unplaceable accent. “A shychic alvays knows.” She tossed the half-smoked cigarette onto the ground and grinned, exposing stained yellow teeth.

  Maggie wrinkled her nose. “You don’t have to be psychic to figure that out,” she muttered. “We’re standing right outside your fortune telling tent.”

  The Incredible Psychic Madam Emerald made a growling noise. “You are not velcome,” she said to Maggie. “Thee other one ish fine.” She gestured for Isla to come inside.

  Maggie placed one hand on her hip. “Excuse me?” she snapped. “Rude much? Why am I not welcome?”

  “Becaush you”—the Incredible Psychic Madam Emerald waved her hand in front of Maggie—“haf something on you.” She curled her top lip. “Yehs,” she breathed huskily. “You cannot enter my tent. Something cleengs to you. I don’t vant you bringing eet een here.”

  Maggie’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?” she objected. “What do you mean, something clings to me?” Her hand went self-consciously to the glob of cotton candy in her hair.

  “There ish a spell on you,” Madam Emerald explained vaguely.

  Maggie’s heart skipped a beat. “A spell? What spell?”

  Madam Emerald shrugged her heavy shoulders.

  “Wait, what is this?” Maggie demanded. “You just cursed me?”

  Madam Emerald recoiled at the insult. “Not me! Eet ees already on you. You are curshed. Now, be gone, before eet shpreads.”

  “How unbelievably rude!” Maggie baulked, turning to Isla for backup.

  But Isla just stood there, twiddling her thumbs anxiously.

  “You,” Madam Emerald went on, directing a long bejewelled finger at Isla. “Come een. You are clear. I permit you inshide.” She stepped aside to allow Isla into the tent.

  Isla moved to enter.

  “Isla!” Maggie exclaimed, grabbing her roommate’s arm. “You’re just going to leave me out here?”

  Isla shrugged helplessly. “Sorry, Mags, but she said you can’t come in with”—she hushed her voice—“your, um, curse,” she finished delicately.

  Maggie stamped her foot on the hard ground. “This is an outrage! I’m a paying customer. I have rights!” She paused, then under her breath added, “Probably.”

  The Incredible Psychic Madam Emerald cackled. “No money een thee world ish worth a cursh.” And, with that, she drew the tent curtains closed around Isla.

  MAGGIE THUNDERED THROUGH the carnival towards the Haunted House. She could see Joel sitting on the metal barrier, his feet propped up on the turnstile. A small queue had formed in front of him. Mostly girls, Maggie noticed. She bypassed the line—to a few muttered complaints—and cornered Joel at the metal fence.

  “What?” he asked coolly, looking down on her from his post while a chorus of shrieks rang out from inside the Haunted House.

  “Your aunt, the Incredible Psycho Madam Emerald, won’t let me have my fortune read.” Maggie waved her hand wildly in the direction of Madam Emerald’s tent. “And she took Isla!”

  Joel peered over her head to the distant summit of the purple tent. “Okay,” he said, chewing on a swizzle stick. “So?”

  “So?” Maggie echoed loudly, flinging her arms into the air. “She was rude to me! Unthinkably rude!”

  “So?” Joel repeated. “What do you expect me to do about it? She’s rude to everyone.”

  “She told me there was something on me. She said that I was. . .” Maggie glanced furtively over her shoulder to the queue of girls behind her, then turned back to Joel. She cupped her hands around her mouth and hissed, “That I was cursed.”

  Joel cupped his hands around his mouth, too. “So?” he whispered back.

  Maggie swatted his hands down. “So tell her,” she fumed, her voice rising again, “to apologise! Tell her to tell me that it isn’t true.”

  Joel tore off another bite of swizzle stick with his teeth. “I can’t do that,” he said simply. “If you’re cursed, then I can’t tell her to lie to you.”

  “I am not cursed!” Maggie exclaimed, stamping her foot.

  Then she paused. Come to think of it, she had been experiencing a bout of bad luck lately. In fact, things had been going wrong for her all week. She’d been late to school every day; the cafeteria had sold out of cake just as she’d arrived; and she’d got an F on her Science assignment. Okay, so she hadn’t really been paying that much attention in Science class, but couldn’t that all be part of the curse’s wicked plan, too?

  “Did you curse me on Monday morning in homeroom when I took your seat?” she accused.

  He looked genuinely taken aback. “No,” he said. “Although maybe I should have, considering what you did to me in detention that day.” His brows furrowed even now at the thought. “But if you’re cursed, it’s not because of me.”

  Maggie sighed. Granted, she hadn’t exactly been on best-buddy terms with Joel lately, but she knew him well enough to spot a lie. And he wasn’t lying.
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  She swallowed. “Am I cursed?” she asked Joel meekly.

  Now it was his turn to cast a surreptitious glance at the queue. He turned back to Maggie, his expression suddenly serious. She stood there feebly as his gaze bore into her.

  At last, he spoke again. “I can’t tell. There is something there, though,” he mused, squinting his eyes as he studied an unseen point on her shoulder. “But I can’t know what it is without looking deeper.”

  “So look deeper,” Maggie implored tersely.

  Joel exhaled and wearily popped the last of his swizzle stick into his mouth. “I can’t do that here. There are too many people around. You’ll have to find someone else to help you.”

  “Who?” Maggie despaired. “It’s not like I know any other . . .” She trailed off as the Haunted House train chugged through the black velvet curtain and screeched to a stop right in front of them.

  Joel jumped down from the gate and gestured for the breathless passengers to disembark. Those waiting in the queue took that as their prompt to board. Maggie waited impatiently while Joel instructed the new batch of passengers on how to safely circumnavigate the Haunted House. Then he pulled on a lever and the train began along the track, disappearing from sight once more.

  Maggie and Joel were alone now, surrounded by a light evening breeze that dragged the smoky scent of the carnival through the air.

  Maggie bit her lower lip. “If I am cursed,” she began again, “can you get rid of it?”

  Joel shrugged. “I don’t know. It depends what type of curse it is. And I wouldn’t do it for free, of course.”

  “Fine, whatever,” Maggie said, making a circling motion with her hand to hurry him along. “I’ll pay you, okay? Just de-cursify me.”

  Joel raised an index finger. “No promises. I’ll see what I can do.”

  Maggie let out a tense breath. “Fine.” She grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. “Let’s go.”

  “Whoa!” Joel pulled free of her. “Not now.”

  “Please?” Maggie cried. “You can’t expect me to stand around cursed all night!”