Demon Storm Page 8

  Interspersed with Mrs Bailey’s lessons, Ben learned about the world he could not see – ghosts and spirits, demons and other creatures. Some of the sessions were in the lecture hall where he’d first met Madam Sosostram. Others were in a small classroom with a video camera recording whoever was in charge of the lesson.

  ‘There’s a special website,’ Rupam told Ben, ‘where students can view the lessons. Some of the School of Night sessions are actually video-linked in real time to other places too.’

  ‘Like where?’ Ben wondered.

  ‘After-school clubs, youth centres,’ Gemma said. ‘All over.’

  ‘It’s stored on DVD,’ Maria said. ‘You can watch any lesson again if you need to.’ She didn’t make it sound as if this was something she wanted to do herself. ‘Just ask Webby and he’ll set it up.’

  ‘Who?’

  The Reverend Alistair Growl, who was running this session, cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows for silence. There was no hint at the angry temper he’d briefly displayed in the churchyard, however, and soon he was enthusiastically explaining the finer details of different types of exorcism and when to use them.

  Having lessons with Rupam was both amusing and frustrating. He seemed to absorb the information immediately and he remembered everything. Everything he read, everything anyone said – he could replay it as if he was reading or hearing it again.

  When Ben couldn’t tell Growl the gist of the particular type of exorcism he’d just explained, the clergyman sighed and asked Rupam, ‘What did I just say?’

  Rupam didn’t look up from his work. But he recited the whole speech Growl had just delivered. Word perfect. Then he looked up and grinned at Ben. ‘Easy. Don’t know what it means though,’ he added.

  ‘How does he do that?’ Ben whispered to Gemma as Growl continued.

  ‘Rupam can remember anything,’ Gemma said quietly.

  ‘He’ll remind you of your most embarrassing moments at the most embarrassing time,’ Maria whispered from across the table.

  Growl clapped his hands together for silence. ‘Children,’ he chided, ‘this is actually important. It could save your life. Or your soul. Now, Ben, can you tell me why bell, book and candle are so powerful when used together for exorcism?’

  Ben couldn’t. But Rupam knew.

  *

  Only Mrs Bailey – and Knight, when he was there – lived at the house with the children. Ben assumed that the groundsman, Pendleton Jones, whom he’d met when he first arrived must live close by.

  Occasionally he met the man outside when he went for a walk. The children were all under strict instructions not to leave the grounds of Gibbet Manor without permission. Remembering his narrow escape from the shadowy creature when he arrived at the gates that first evening, Ben was happy to heed the warning.

  It wasn’t Pendleton Jones whom Ben looked for outside in the grounds. It was Sam. He hoped she would turn up again, though he didn’t really expect it. More and more he wondered if he’d imagined meeting her by the lake.

  Ben helped Pendleton Jones set spirit traps near the outer wall. They were small boxes made from polished wood with a pentagram of mother of pearl inlaid in the lid. One side of the box was a dark wire mesh.

  ‘It’s like a mousetrap,’ Jones explained. ‘The spirit can get through the mesh to see what’s inside. It can smell the wood, which has been smoked with incense to attract it. But once it’s in, a powerful binding force holds it there and it can’t dissipate enough to get through the mesh and escape.’

  ‘Then what do you do?’ Ben asked.

  ‘Depends. If it’s harmless, just a sprite, then I take it out of the grounds and release it.’

  ‘And if it’s dangerous?’

  ‘If it falls into the trap, then I seal the box in wax and bury it. But the more dangerous ones tend to be more clever too. They can sense the traps and avoid them. You need to take drastic action to keep them out, if they ever come looking.’

  ‘I should be getting back,’ Ben said as they set the last of the spirit traps. ‘I’ve got a lesson with Madam Sosostram this afternoon.’

  ‘Virginia Gibbs,’ Jones said, nodding.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Madam Sosostram is the most accomplished witch in the south of England. Maybe in the whole of Britain. But her real name is Virginia Gibbs. Better not let on that I told you, though. In fact,’ Jones continued as they walked back to the small hut where he stored his tools and traps, ‘better not tell any of them you’ve spoken to me. They’ll only worry what I might have told you about them. It can be our secret, all right?’

  *

  Ben was late for the session with Madam Sosostram. He slipped into the back of the lecture hall and sat close to Maria, who was scowling as usual. She didn’t say much and when she did it was usually snappy or terse.

  ‘She’ll get over it,’ Rupam had once told Ben.

  ‘No, she won’t,’ Gemma had told them both.

  Maria glanced up at Ben as he sat down and there was the barest trace of a smile of greeting. He grinned back at her and she looked away.

  ‘As I was saying …’ Madam Sosostram said loudly, banging her stick on the floor and staring up at Ben as she spoke. ‘The last witchcraft act in Britain wasn’t repealed until the middle of the twentieth century. There is still a stigma attached, an underlying suspicion of the supernatural. Oh, many people are happy to read their horoscopes and some even believe what they read. But there’s an assumption – a flawed assumption – that there must be some sort of scientific rather than magical basis for predicting the future with charts and star maps.’

  She gave a little snort of what might have been outrage. Her spectacles, dangling on a silver chain round her neck, bounced on her chest in sympathy.

  ‘Might as well consult the entrails of a goat,’ she went on. ‘To understand astrology, alchemy and the other arts we must acknowledge that they are based on a science that the modern world no longer understands or accepts …’

  Rupam and Gemma were laughing together as they left the lecture hall, imagining Madam Sosostram stirring a goat’s entrails in a large cooking pot. Ben paused outside the door, trying to get straight in his mind some of the things Madam Sosostram had been talking about.

  ‘Did you get the homework?’ Maria asked, following him out.

  ‘Homework?’

  ‘Thought not. Madame Sosostram handed it out at the beginning of the session. Worksheets.’ Maria pulled a photocopied sheet from her notebook and flashed it at Ben. ‘Boring or what? But you’d better go back and get one. Apologise for being late at the same time,’ Maria added. ‘She’ll appreciate that.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Ben said. But Maria had already turned away.

  Ben went back into the lecture hall. It was empty. He’d missed her – Madam Sosostram had already gone. So he hurried down the aisle past the rows of seats and out of the door at the back of the stage.

  There was still no sign of Madam Sosostram. He ran down the corridor, knowing it led past the drawing room and back to the main hallway. As he turned a corner, he saw a figure ahead of him.

  But it wasn’t the ample and elderly form of Madam Sosostram. It was a young woman with long blonde hair. She seemed to sense that Ben was watching her and turned. Her hair spun, catching the light. Ben almost gasped out loud when he saw her face, she was so beautiful. When she smiled at him, he couldn’t help but grin back.

  Then the woman walked on down the corridor. She reached another corner, pausing to glance back at Ben through cat-like emerald eyes.

  Ben ran after her. He turned the corner – and the corridor ahead was empty. He stopped, confused, and found himself standing outside the drawing-room door. She must have gone inside. Perhaps she would know where Madam Sosostram was.

  The fire was burning lazily. A figure sat in one of the armchairs facing it. She turned as Ben entered the room, looking round the wing of the chair.

  ‘Hello, Ben,’ Madam Sosostram said.

&nb
sp; Ben frowned. ‘Are you … Did someone … I thought I saw …’ he stammered.

  ‘I’m sorry, did you want something? My hearing’s not what it was, I’m afraid.’

  Ben shook his head, confused. The young woman must have hurried on down the corridor. Maybe she’d wanted to avoid him – whoever she was.

  ‘I didn’t get the homework sheet,’ Ben said. ‘And I wanted to apologise for being late for your class.’

  Madam Sosostram smiled, her face wrinkling up like an old apple. ‘That’s quite all right, young man. But don’t make a habit of it, will you?’ She took a worksheet from the low table beside the chair and handed it to Ben. ‘Was there anything else you wanted to ask me?’

  Ben assumed she meant about the class. But there were so many things he wanted to ask he didn’t know where to start. So he shook his head and hurried away.

  ***

  The next day, Ben got his phone.

  It was the first time he had seen Maria smile properly. She found Ben reading in his room late in the afternoon. Rupam had lent him a book of ghost stories by M. R. James. It was a large hardback book with black-and-white drawings – moorland, old buildings, a man lost in a garden maze. He found it quite hard going, even with the pictures.

  ‘Captain Morton is here,’ Maria said. ‘He wants to see you. In the drawing room.’

  ‘Who does?’ Ben asked, putting the book down.

  That was when she smiled. ‘Captain Morton – come on.’

  More puzzled by Maria’s sudden good humour than by the thought of another mysterious visiting teacher, Ben hurried after her.

  Captain Morton was not like any of the other teachers. In bearing and manner he was similar to Knight – who was standing with the Captain, talking quietly, while Gemma and Rupam sat near by. The two men were similar in height and build. But Morton was wearing army uniform. His cap was on one of the side tables.

  ‘Ben, come and meet the Captain,’ Knight said.

  Maria walked with Ben, as if making sure he didn’t get lost on the way across the drawing room.

  ‘James Morton,’ the soldier said. His voice was clipped and efficient. ‘I guess I’m the quartermaster for Mr Knight and his associates. Delivery boy and storeman rolled into one.’

  ‘Far more than that,’ Knight said.

  ‘Did you bring any new equipment?’ Maria asked.

  ‘Boffins at Purton Point are working flat out, but nothing at the moment. Except this.’

  He took a mobile phone from his jacket pocket. It looked the same as the one Ben had seen Knight use before, only with a blue case rather than a black one. Morton handed the phone to Ben.

  ‘Maria will show you how to use it,’ Morton said. ‘Star pupil, she is.’

  Maria was grinning. ‘I had a good teacher.’

  ‘We all have phones like that,’ Rupam announced. ‘Though Gemma doesn’t really need hers. Those of us who aren’t so gifted find them useful.’

  ‘What for?’ Ben said. ‘I mean, I can see it’s a phone. But so what? Who are we going to call?’

  ‘Ghostbusters,’ Morton said.

  Rupam grinned, Knight gave a wry smile and Maria actually laughed.

  ‘Among other things, it will help you see,’ Knight said. He took the phone from Ben and flipped it open. ‘This operates the camera.’

  He pressed a button below the main number keys. It was labelled with a simple white square. The screen lit up at once and an image appeared on it – Morton’s amused face as Knight aimed the phone at him.

  ‘There are various settings,’ Morton explained. ‘Infrared enhancement, digital zoom, two hours’ recording time for audio and video, and five levels of psi detection.’

  ‘Of what?’

  ‘The phone can show things that are invisible to most human eyes,’ Morton said.

  ‘It shows something of what is happening on the ethereal plane,’ Knight explained, still pointing the phone at Morton. ‘Not always, but often. It will show shadows and flickers – hints of ghosts and demons, creatures and monsters, as well as the supernatural aura that often surrounds a child gifted with the Sight. Things you might not pick up even if you do have the Sight.’

  Knight handed Ben the phone. ‘It’s set to auto-detect. Morton has no ability, any more than I do, or than you seem to – even at level 5. I guess your ability comes and goes. We need to train that, so you can call it up at will. But try Maria, Rupam and Gemma.’

  Ben turned, holding the phone out in front of him and aiming it at Maria. She was still smiling, but while the rest of the picture was just what he’d expect to see on a mobile phone camera, Maria seemed to be glowing. Just slightly – as if she was lit from behind.

  With Rupam the effect was similar – a glowing edge, a shimmer. An aura.

  When Ben turned the phone towards Gemma, it was difficult to make out any detail she was glowing so much.

  ‘With your sister, Sam,’ Knight said quietly, ‘the whole screen went white.’

  13

  THE CHILDREN HAD THEIR OWN PLAYROOM, though Maria called it a living room, where they could spend their free time. They tended to congregate there in the evening, lounging in the battered armchairs or on the old sofa. There were books, a TV with DVDs and games consoles, and a couple of up-to-date laptop computers with wireless Internet connections. There was also a kettle for them to make hot drinks and a fridge which Mrs Bailey kept stocked with cold drinks, healthy snacks and the occasional bar of chocolate.

  It was here that Ben got to know the others. Gemma and Rupam told him more about Maria than the girl did herself. She was the oldest – eighteen according to Gemma, but Rupam said she was guessing.

  ‘Where does she come from?’ Ben wondered one lunchtime.

  Neither of them knew. ‘She was here before we were,’ Rupam said.

  ‘When I first came here, I thought she was Knight’s daughter,’ Gemma confessed.

  Rupam laughed.

  ‘It’s not that funny.’

  ‘Just can’t imagine Knight having children,’ Rupam said.

  ‘Except us,’ Ben pointed out.

  Rupam’s smile faded. ‘I suppose.’

  He was from India, somewhere close to Mumbai. ‘Different sort of spirits and demons over there,’ Rupam said knowingly. ‘Not better or worse, just different. My uncle could see them too, when he was younger. He’s in the local government, knows some people. They contacted Knight and here I am.’

  ‘Don’t you go home between terms?’ Ben asked.

  Rupam frowned. ‘Why would I do that? I remember everything about home. Every detail. Every moment I lived there.’ He shuddered. ‘I have no wish to go back.’

  Ben knew better than to ask any more. Instead he asked Gemma if she had family.

  ‘I’m like you, Ben. A foundling, with no parents. I was living with my nan when Mr Knight came to our school. I thought he was funny – with his box and Maria …’ She stared off into the distance, remembering. ‘Until he opened the box. Maria used to laugh and smile back then. She could see as much as me.’

  ‘But not now?’

  ‘She sees less than she used to,’ Rupam said.

  Then Maria came in to get herself a cup of tea, and Ben and the others moved on to computer games.

  Ben and Rupam played a battle game with futuristic tanks attacking robot soldiers dug in round a ruined city. Gemma was happy to sit and watch – clapping when things went well and sighing loudly when they didn’t. She seemed even more involved than Ben and Rupam.

  Two levels of game-play later and they were stuck. Rupam’s tank was bogged down in a muddy street, surrounded by rubble. Ben’s was between a collapsed bridge and a huge bomb crater. After several attempts to drive over the rubble or move fast enough to make it over the gap in the bridge, both of them were ready to give up.

  ‘It’s impossible,’ Ben complained.

  ‘There must be a way to do it,’ Rupam said.

  ‘But what is it?’

  ‘I don’t
know.’

  ‘Webby will know,’ Gemma said. ‘I bet Webby knows. Let’s ask him. He won’t mind.’

  ‘I suppose,’ Rupam said glumly. ‘Though we should be able to work it out ourselves.’

  ‘Who’s Webby?’ Ben wanted to know. He’d heard the name mentioned before.

  ‘You haven’t met Webby?’ Rupam’s mood immediately brightened. ‘You must meet Webby.’

  Maria looked up from her cup of tea and a paperback romance. ‘Don’t eat the pizza,’ she warned. ‘It’s growing things.’

  *

  Heading the other way past the lecture hall, they came to a door at the end of the corridor. It was opened by a number pad – the code was 666. Beyond the door, stone steps disappeared into the gloom.

  ‘There’s lights on at the bottom,’ Rupam told Ben. ‘You’ll see as soon as we turn the corner.’

  ‘Unless Webby’s asleep,’ Gemma added.

  Rupam laughed. ‘Webby doesn’t sleep.’

  ‘So who is Webby?’ Ben asked as he followed Rupam down the stairs.

  ‘He’s just … Webby. He runs the website, works all the computers and everything.’

  ‘And he does it from the cellar.’

  ‘The vault,’ Gemma corrected him.

  The light did indeed increase as soon as Ben was round the corner of the stairs. And he felt the cold, like walking into a fridge. There was a noise too – a steady thump like a heartbeat.

  The cellar was a single large room with whitewashed brick walls. A big arched alcove at one end held a wine rack full of dusty bottles. A circular metal door like you might find on a submarine filled another alcove. A heavy locking wheel was fixed in the middle and huge bolts held the door in place.

  ‘The vault is actually through there,’ Rupam told Ben. ‘It’s like a big safe or strongroom.’

  ‘So what’s in the vault?’

  Rupam shrugged. ‘No idea. Never been inside.’