Euphoria Kids Page 14

  My fingers brush against a fern, and the forest is still. Not calm, just still. The witch is here. She’s not close, she’s far away, but yeah. She’s in the forest.

  ‘Nova?’ I say out loud. Will they come? I keep walking the path, and I pass a couple of bushwalkers in hats and Aerogard. Once they’re gone, I touch the nearest tree trunk before stepping off the path.

  The wind picks up, carrying coldness. Cold fae. The edges of the forest are teeming with them. I shiver. I don’t reckon they’re too close. I close my eyes, breathing steady so my heart calms down. I try to listen to the bellbirds. But my heart still booms in my ears.

  Nothing’s working, but I keep walking. The cold fae are close, I can feel them closing in around me. On all sides. I hold the heart-shaped rose quartz on my necklace, imagine love. Feel love. Iris and the boy. There’s cool breath on me, wisping around my ankles as I walk, blocking out the sun, but the fae don’t touch me.

  ‘Babs?’

  As I hear Vada’s voice, the cold fae dissipate.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Their voice is stern. There’s a vine growing around them and it’s flowering, the tiny blooms sprouting on top of their head and shoulders. Some bees are harvesting pollen.

  ‘I was looking for you or Nova.’

  ‘It’s not safe!’ Vada frowns. ‘What are you doing here at a time like this?’

  ‘I have to ask you about something.’ I swallow. I wonder if Vada will tell Saltkin what I say, but there’s no one else to ask. ‘It’s about faerie bonds.’

  Vada runs their eyes over my face. ‘What about them?’

  ‘I just wanted to know if there are ways around them.’

  ‘What did you promise?’

  ‘I didn’t. Iris promised Saltkin they wouldn’t look for the witch.’

  ‘Oh, Babs. We just want you all to be safe.’

  I roll my eyes. ‘Everyone keeps saying that. I don’t need protecting! I can fight.’

  ‘It’s dangerous.’

  ‘I know.’ What else can I say?

  ‘What was the specific wording of the pact?’

  ‘That they wouldn’t go looking for anything dangerous. Wasn’t specifically the witch.’

  Vada’s sigh sounds like the wind through millions of leaves. ‘Well, I suppose your friends could follow you. You look for the witch, they look for you.’

  ‘Do you think that would work?’

  Vada stares at me for ages, the seconds stretching out between us. ‘If they don’t help you on your journey, that should satisfy the bond.’

  ‘Okay. Thanks.’ I sigh in relief.

  ‘Though if Iris talks to Saltkin about it, he may release the bond.’

  ‘He won’t.’

  Vada shakes their head sadly. ‘If that’s what Iris thinks. When are you setting off?’

  ‘I don’t know. Soon.’

  ‘Three humans in the forest alone, looking for the witch – you have to be very careful.’

  ‘I know.’

  We say goodbye, and Vada walks away. The wind picks up, almost blowing me over. The trees are wild, their limbs liquid as they sway back and forth. It’s like they’re made of rippling muscles.

  Crack. A branch crashes into the undergrowth, its sound echoing. I have to get out. I run back to the path. As soon as I step onto it, the wind almost totally dies down.

  The rose quartz hums softly.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Blank Potential

  My sketchpad is almost empty, its thick white pages stark. All of a sudden, I don’t know how anyone can do anything. I flick to the pages before, where I wrote all that stuff about being in the ground, the page of glitter. It isn’t nearly enough.

  We’re in art class. The boy has scribbles covering his page, and as I’m watching he flicks to the next one and draws balloons again; these ones are all different shades of green.

  ‘How are you doing that?’ I ask him.

  ‘You’re thinking about it too much,’ he replies. I watch him colour a bright grass-green balloon. ‘Have you heard from Babs today?’ he asks.

  I shake my head. ‘But I’ll text her at recess.’

  ‘I hope she’s okay. I haven’t seen her at all. Hang on.’ He goes to the supplies cupboard and returns with green pencils in shades that he hasn’t used. And in front of me he plops glitter, glue and a set of watercolours. ‘Do something with these,’ he says.

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Don’t think about it, Iris.’ When I scowl, he smiles and shakes his head. ‘All right, fine – draw a moon rose.’

  I stare at my page, large and wide and white. Maybe not empty, but full of potential. Like winter.

  Miranda has lots of books around the classroom, on flowers and animals and anything else we might want to draw. So I grab one, and I try to find the moon roses. When I don’t see them, I pick the fattest rose I can find and start to copy it in greylead. It’s not quite right, but not bad for a first go, and the watercolours are easy enough to use on the background and the leaves. I just don’t know how to colour a shining pearl-white rose.

  Miranda eventually makes her way to me, while I’m starting to put glitter on the leaves and the moss below. The rose is still a greylead outline.

  ‘How are you going, Iris? This looks wonderful.’

  ‘I don’t know how to do the rose,’ I say. ‘It’s white. How do you colour white?’

  ‘Hm.’ Miranda gets out the book with all the flowers. ‘Look at this one – it’s white, but see, the shadows are blue. And it’s got some yellows, near the centre. If you look closely, it’s lots of different colours.’ She puts her hands on the page so that only a small square of petal is showing. It’s white, yeah, but pink and pale blue as well. The delicate veins run through the petals, and they’re a darker white.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket; Miranda pretends not to hear. ‘Try using blues,’ she tells me. ‘They’re a good place to start. Start with the palest and see how you go.’

  ‘Okay.’ I nod and pick up the paintbrush. I trace some of the outline, using mostly blues, some yellows. Even a bit of pale pink. As I let the paper dry, I glance at my phone under the table. It’s Babs. I check to see where Miranda is: she’s moved to the other side of the classroom. My phone on my lap, I open Babs’s message.

  I can feel the witch here.

  My heart skips. Where are you? I hope she’s not in the forest, or where the cold fae are.

  ‘Hey,’ I say to get the boy’s attention. ‘Has Babs texted you?’

  He checks his phone. ‘No. What’s up?’

  I show him the message, and we both wait for her reply. It doesn’t come.

  ‘I’ll call her.’ I’ve only ever called my mums before, I’m pretty sure, but this seems like an emergency. ‘Can you let Miranda know I’ve gone to the toilet, if she says anything?’ I ask the boy. He nods. We’re supposed to get our planners signed by a teacher if we’re ever out of class, but no one checks anyway, and I don’t think Miranda would mind.

  I keep my phone in my hand as I walk to the bathroom. I go into the stall closest to the wall and press the icon next to Babs’s name. I wait for her to answer. I wait, and wait, the rings like heartbeats, too fast, too fluttering. I wish my own heart would stop being so loud, I wish my throat would open up so I could breathe again.

  The rings stop, and for a second I can’t hear anything. I think that it’s just hung up automatically, but then I realise Babs is on the other end of the line. I can’t hear her but I can hear a magpie in the background. ‘Babs?’

  ‘Iris.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘I’m in the forest.’ Her voice is vacant, like she’s not paying attention to me properly, or that some of her is missing.

  ‘Where? Are you with Nova?
Is the witch nearby? The cold fae?’

  ‘I’m just in the forest,’ she says. ‘The normal bit, with the walking trails.’

  ‘You sound a little far away.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘You said you could feel the witch.’

  ‘Just in the air. The feel of the forest. I think the wind is trying to tell me something.’

  ‘Can you go to Eaglefern?’ I ask. I don’t want her to be in any danger. ‘We can meet you there. Me and the boy.’

  ‘I don’t know if you’ll be able to see me.’

  ‘That’s okay. I just need to know you’re safe.’

  ‘I’m safe.’

  ‘The forest isn’t always safe.’

  ‘You sound like one of them!’

  ‘Can you just come to the cafe?’ I ask, gripping the phone so hard it hurts my hand. ‘Babs, please. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be there alone right now.’

  Silence.

  ‘Babs?’

  Has she hung up? I check the screen. Still there.

  ‘I’ll see you at Eaglefern, okay?’

  She sighs. ‘Okay. After school?’

  ‘I’ll come now.’

  Back in class, the boy notices the way I’m shaking, how I’ve paled. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Babs is in the forest, she says she can sense the witch.’ My heart feels like it’s trying to leave through my mouth. ‘I told her to go to Eaglefern, I said I’d meet her there now.’

  ‘But school is on.’

  ‘Yeah but, I don’t know. I’ll figure out something.’ I should have just not come back to class, asked the boy to look after my books and pencil case.

  ‘Just say you’ll go to the sick bay,’ he says. ‘I’ll take you.’

  So I ask Miranda if the boy can take me there for cramps. I look so pale and shaky that it seems like I’m telling the truth, and she lets us leave.

  Once we’re out of the classroom, we go get our bags and head off. No one stops us. The boy is shakier than me now, worried that we’ll get in trouble. But we don’t; nothing happens.

  As we walk into the cafe, Livia frowns at us. ‘School out early?’ she asks.

  ‘Uh,’ I say as we both just stand there.

  She smiles. ‘I’m only having a go. English breakfast and a hot chockie?’

  ‘Yeah, please. Is Babs here?’ I ask, but even before she replies, I know the answer.

  ‘No. Should she be?’

  The boy and I exchange glances.

  ‘What do we do?’ he asks me.

  ‘Is she okay?’ Livia asks.

  ‘We just thought she would be here. It’s okay.’ I tug the boy over to the couches. ‘I’ll call her.’

  There’s no answer. The boy texts her a couple of times, but she doesn’t reply. We’ve been waiting a while, and Livia has brought over our drinks.

  ‘What are we going to do?’ the boy asks me again.

  ‘I wish I could just like, call Saltkin. Or maybe Vada. Even Nova. Gosh, I don’t know. Do you think she’s okay?’

  The boy is tight-lipped, and he doesn’t reply.

  Our phones buzz at the same time: it’s Babs. In the group chat, she’s just said coming.

  I sigh, sinking into the couch. ‘Okay. All right. Good.’

  The boy starts to make his tea, and I watch the ritual. He spoons in half a sugar, which he normally doesn’t do. He sits back with me, and after sipping the tea he sighs too. ‘Good.’

  We don’t talk again until Babs comes in, her hair a mess. Her shirt says When will I change. She looks like she hasn’t slept, or she slept in the forest. Her hands are dirty. She sits opposite us without a word.

  ‘Are you okay?’ I ask her.

  ‘Look, no.’

  ‘Want a coffee?’ the boy asks, and she nods.

  He gets up to order, and I go sit beside Babs. I take her hand, and she leans into me, rests her head on my shoulder.

  ‘What happened?’ the boy asks when he comes back.

  ‘Nothing,’ she says. ‘I just went into the forest to talk to Vada. They said if you follow, that should be okay . . . But it’s so dangerous. What if you accidentally lead us even one step? I should go alone. I want to see her.’

  ‘No, we can still do it together. You look for the witch, and I’ll follow. Please don’t go alone.’

  Livia brings over the coffee; Babs sips it for a while. She starts to perk up a bit, her face less pale, the bags under her eyes less pronounced.

  ‘We should stick together,’ I press. The thought of Babs going by herself is unbearable. ‘Please.’ I look to the boy for some reassurance.

  He smiles at Babs. ‘I’m in too, if you are.’

  ‘All right.’ She nods.

  That night, when Clover and Moss have gone to sleep, I turn off my light and bring the old book out from under the bed. It seems heavier than usual, and dustier. I sneeze, and then I see Saltkin at the window. A thunderstorm is brewing, I can taste it in the air.

  ‘Hey, sprout,’ Saltkin says, watching the book.

  ‘Saltkin, Babs says she can feel the witch in the forest.’

  ‘Babs knows a lot of things.’ He flits over and sits on my bedspread, near the book. ‘You be careful, Iris. I told you, magic is dangerous.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’ I wave a hand. ‘I’m not going to look for the witch.’

  His expression suggests that he knows we’ve found the loophole. ‘So what are you doing now?’ he asks, pointing to the book.

  ‘I was going to ask for more protection. Not just for me, but for my friends too. You know, considering the witch and everything. Magic is supposed to be dangerous.’

  ‘Please take this seriously,’ Saltkin says, his wings flaming a little.

  ‘I am, I am.’ I open the book and run my hands over the blank pages, trying to figure out where to stop searching for the right one. I let the book guide me, I’m not sure how, but I stop at a page towards the end. It hums under my fingertips.

  ‘That’s very powerful,’ Saltkin says. ‘This is going to drain a lot of energy.’

  I close my eyes, place a palm on each page in the spread. The book vibrates.

  ‘Sprout, careful!’ Saltkin says. But he sounds so far away.

  I feel like I’m sinking into the bed, spongy mattress all around me. I can’t feel the breeze from outside anymore; the distant rumble of thunder is gone. There’s just the pressure of my hands against the book, and then everything fades, quick, sure.

  When I wake, I’m sprawled over the book and my bed, out of the covers. It’s raining hard, and it’s so dark. My arms are asleep; it takes a couple of goes to push myself back into a sitting position. There’s a dull burning over my ribs.

  I lift up my top and see another sigil, more complex than the others, swirls looping in and out of each other, fine lines striking through. No wonder it took so much energy.

  I wonder where Saltkin went. Thunder is rumbling through the house, through my bones, through the earth. The trees shake in the wind and lightning strikes across the sky.

  He’s probably in the forest again, making sure no fires start. I lie with my window open, the breeze coming in again, until I fall asleep.

  The next day, the boy’s nervous, trembling. The roses on his arm have multiplied. We’re waiting in the doctor’s office so that he can get a script for something to stop his periods. He had to give his legal name to the receptionist, but they explained that he doesn’t have to use it again.

  He has a form for new patients and is tapping a pen against the paper. He’s filled everything in: birthdate, address, medical stuff. Except the name field.

  ‘This sucks.’ He puts down the pen.

  ‘Hey, it’s okay. You can just ask them to call you the boy.’

  ‘That’s only okay if you an
d Babs do it.’

  On the one hand, I’m happy that me and Babs can make him happy that way, but on the other, I wish he could have some peace.

  ‘I’m just gonna use my old name, I guess.’

  ‘Maybe you can get them to make a note to only use your last name?’

  He pauses for a moment; the frown slips off his face. ‘Oh. That’d work.’ He scribbles in his surname, Bahrani, and takes the form to the receptionist.

  ‘Do you want me to come in with you?’ I ask when he sits back down.

  ‘I think I’d like to go alone.’ His jaw is set, hard. ‘I want to.’

  ‘Sure.’ I nod. ‘I’m just glad you’re here.’

  ‘Me too.’

  When he’s called into the doctor’s room, he gives me a little wave. They’re in there for a while, but when he comes back out he’s holding a script and beaming.

  Later we’re on a tram to the city, where we can get the train home.

  I ask the boy, ‘Do you know about gender euphoria?’

  He shakes his head.

  ‘I think, when you smiled after realising you could just use your last name, that might’ve been it.’

  ‘Is it just like, good feelings? About gender?’

  ‘It’s like . . . the opposite of dysphoria.’

  He stares out the window, watching the shops go past. ‘I’ve only heard of gender dysphoria before.’

  ‘I found out about it a while ago, but yeah. I thought I should let you know.’

  He smiles, lost in thought.

  Chapter Twenty

  The Flower Ravine

  It’s close to dawn when my phone alarm goes off under my pillow. Time to go look for the witch. I shake myself out of the deep sleep buried in me, and poke the boy. ‘Wake up,’ I say when he blinks at me.

  He groans, but he gets up.

  We packed everything last night, so all we do is change into our hiking clothes. I wish I could put on some makeup, for extra courage, but it’ll just be sweated off anyway. We use our phone torches to make sure we don’t miss anything.