way to approach that issue?” Hammerson had asked thoughtfully.
“I’ll do it,” Tankom had said harshly. “You, go.”
I had heard one of them get up, and footsteps. My insides had screamed at me to move, but my legs simply wouldn’t respond. Not that I had had enough time anyway; Cornish had moved into the doorway and had spotted my reflection in the mirror before he’d come around the corner. I had thought vaguely of running for it, but really couldn’t see the point as Cornish came around the corner to meet me, smiling in a coldly satisfied way.
“Ah,” he had said, “so—come in then.”
My stomach had twisted with panic; what to do? Tankom and Hammerson would have heard that, so there was no point running. I had no option but to follow Cornish into the room. Tankom had been sitting at the table, watching the two of us enter and looking quite as Cornish had; coldly satisfied at the sight of me. Hammerson, meanwhile, had been on his feet, not looking at me but gathering up the papers that had been on the table and stacking them in a filing cabinet.
“Sit down,” she had said curtly, gesturing to the seat in which Cornish had been sitting. I had seated myself wordlessly, my eyes flickering from Tankom to Hammerson, to Cornish and back. Cornish, after I had sat down, had turned and left the room, leaving me alone with these two evil Sorcerers.
“We were just talking about the big day,” Tankom had said. “Next Saturday, of course.”
“Oh, is that what it was?” I had said, remembering all the numbers and letters they had been using. “What about it?”
“Well,” she had gone on, attempting a warm smile and managing surprisingly well, “we have decided to put it in your hands.”
I had raised my eyebrows; this was not the sort of thing Tankom and Hammerson would normally do. “Is that right?” I had replied, watching her closely. “What’s the catch?”
“Only that some of us attend,” she had said, “but the rest is up to you. Oh, we’ll need to find a venue; certainly not down here—”
But I had known what she was really up to now, and I had sought to head her off before she could say anything else. “I’m not letting you anywhere near my friends, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“No?” she had said, raising her eyebrows. “You aren’t? I would have thought you would have wanted some of your friends there, as it’s your event. You don’t like socialising so much with—those others who’d be coming—”
“Like who?” I had asked incredulously, wondering if she would answer, though I’d doubted I would need her too; she had almost certainly been speaking of people like Ather Hignat, and others of his type.
“Oh, part-timers, those who know you,” she had said. “But as I say, you never socialise with them other than—”
“I don’t want anything, though,” I had said; something I’d said a lot in recent times whenever this topic came up. “This is more for you than me, I know—”
“No it's not,” she had said kindly. “If it were, we’d wait a few months. This is for you. You don’t get this often, so don’t complain.”
“Okay,” I had said, looking sideways at Hammerson now, struck by an idea. “Okay. I’ll play along, under a condition.”
“It is not for you to set conditions,” Hammerson had said harshly.
Tankom had shot him a warning look, and he’d shut his mouth. Feeling triumphant at that, I had said, “Okay, I won’t play along then.”
“What is your condition?” Tankom had asked.
“That you two seal a pact,” I had said, wondering what they would think of this, “that you can’t use any of your magic within the venue.”
There had been a silence as Tankom and Hammerson surveyed me, and then each other. Then Hammerson had said, “I don’t know if that’s—”
“I don’t see a problem with it,” Tankom had said quickly. “If it's during the event only. We’ll sign it if you do, that you—”
“Okay,” I had said, and I suddenly felt excited about this; they were letting me do what I wanted—far from what I would have expected.
Hammerson had sat back down at the table, and the three of us had reached out, with me putting my hands over both of theirs in the middle of the table. My hands began to tingle, to vibrate, sending force from the sky through their hands and to the floor. After about ten seconds, we had let go of each other.
“Oh,” Hammerson had said, as though struck by a sudden thought, “and no Woodwards.”
“I thought you said I could bring my friends,” I had said, though I wasn’t at all surprised to hear him say that and had, in fact, been wondering when they would. I put my hands under the table so that I couldn’t be forced to seal another pact.
“No Woodwards,” Hammerson had growled, standing up and looking simply furious.
“I’m sure Amelia Woodward can come,” Tankom had said passively.
“Well that’s just as well,” I had said boldly, standing up also, “’Cause she’s my best friend, and she’s definitely coming…”
Hammerson seemed to have lost control of the fury he’d been feeling since I walked through the door. He’d whipped an agonator from his pocket, swished it through the air, and clicked it, bringing it to rest in the spot directly between my eyes. Without pausing, he clicked it again. I had felt a sharp explosion inside me, and had at that point woken up, lying in bed and drenched in sweat.
While I had been dreaming, I had understood pretty much all that was happening, which meant that I hadn’t been reflecting on it. So when I woke up, I had no idea what any of it meant. Now, though, I had to wonder why I was aware of the pact, and the party, as though it had been me instead of Stella who had made the pact with Tankom and Hammerson…
Chapter 2: Detention with the Devil
The two periods following recess were just as boring as the two that had preceded it, although we boys received a couple of wake-up calls. Firstly, Hall announced to the class that the next Monday he would begin asking for dates on which we would perform our oral presentations. We were allowed to choose when we wanted to do them; when we were ready.
“I know you’ll all be looking to put them off for as long as possible,” he said, staring around pointedly. “But let me assure you that you will be well placed to receive better marks if you are one of the first few; I often go easy on the first few.”
“That won’t be us,” said Peter under his breath. He, James and I were working together, but we had yet to decide what we would talk about.
Then in History, Mrs. Worlker did a ten-minute catch-up session, due to the fact that so many people hadn’t bothered turning up for the class the previous Monday. She had taken note of the few that were there, which included all five of us, and shot questions around the room at those people relating to what we had done in that lesson. Anton was the only person who impressed her; the rest were either stupid or had been involved in the Crystal business and hadn’t paid enough attention; or, in the case of Harry and Simon, both.
When we met up at lunch time in the locker bay, we were all in a bad mood; Mrs. Worlker had given us another stack of homework to do before Wednesday’s class. This time, it was Katie and Sophie who had followed us, whispering in Harry and Simon’s ears, respectively. No guesses as to what was going on there, I thought. The twelve of us spent most of lunch time talking about Stella again; Marc hadn’t had a chance to talk to her yet, so we didn’t get any further than we had been at recess.
After lunch, however, I was forced to think about other things. We had PE, and we