The Circle (Hammer) - By Elfgren, Sara B.,Strandberg, Mats Page 0,84
typical of your respective elements. But that doesn’t mean a given power can’t be found in several different elements. For example, air and water witches can learn how to control storms. Metal and fire witches can generate lightning, but not rain. There’s a whole science to it.’
‘Can I guess?’ Vanessa asks. ‘I’m air?’
‘Correct,’ the principal answers.
‘Does it mean I can learn how to fly?’
‘That depends on how your powers develop,’ the principal answers, a little impatiently.
Five elements left, Minoo thinks.
‘Excuse me, but can I guess now?’ Ida asks. ‘Is Anna-Karin earth?’
‘Yes.’
Ida gives a scornful laugh that stops abruptly when the principal stares at her disapprovingly.
Four left, Minoo thinks, and concentrates on taking notes.
‘Earth is associated with a strong connection to nature and living creatures,’ the principal continues, looking at Anna-Karin. ‘And strength. Physical as well as mental. You, Ida, are metal.’
Three left.
‘Ida’s connection to the metallic element makes her a perfect medium, which you saw on the night of your awakening. The art of fortune-telling and visions are also natural abilities.’
For a wonderful moment the principal lets her gaze move towards Minoo before she turns to Linnéa.
‘You, Linnéa, are water. You should be able to learn how to control your element in various forms—’
‘What was Elias?’ Linnéa breaks in.
‘Wood,’ the principal answers. ‘A typical wood quality is being able to shape and control different kinds of living material. And Rebecka was fire, like me,’ she concludes.
Minoo often has nightmares in which she’s at school and suddenly discovers she’s naked. That’s exactly how it feels now when everyone turns to her. She’s the only one left.
‘Am I the same?’ she asks. ‘I mean, do I have the same element as someone else?’
The principal looks at her for what seems aeons before she answers. ‘No. Unfortunately I can’t see that you’re close to any of the elements. Technically, you shouldn’t be here.’
It’s worse than the nightmares of being naked. She looks up at the ceiling, as if someone up there could save her. The only thing she sees is the faintly shimmering air that lies like a dome under the roof of the dance pavilion. More magic. Magic she will never master.
‘That’s bullshit,’ she hears Linnéa say. ‘Minoo had the same dreams as the rest of us. She came here on the same night as us.’
‘Minoo,’ the principal says.
Minoo lowers her eyes reluctantly to look at the beautiful dark-haired woman, so confident in her knowledge and authority.
‘I can’t explain it. Just as I can’t explain why there were seven of you and not one, or Nicolaus’s role. But I’m sure we shall find out more.’
Nicolaus, Minoo thinks. It’s me and Nicolaus. The failures. The ones who don’t belong anywhere.
And Minoo does something she’s never done before. She gathers up her things in the middle of a class and walks away. She ignores everyone calling to her and doesn’t stop walking until she gets home.
All through school, Minoo has waited to be exposed. And now it’s happened. Minoo Falk Karimi is a fraud. She’s nothing. It’s been confirmed once and for all.
Lasagne – make every day a party! it says, at the top of the sheet of paper Vanessa is holding.
‘Ugh –gross! It says you’re supposed to put chicken liver in the meat sauce,’ she says.
Evelina makes a puking sound and pretends to stick her fingers down her throat. Normally Vanessa would have laughed, but now she’s far too nervous. There are so many steps to keep track of. Her normal cooking repertoire consists of pasta and ketchup or fried eggs.
‘You must be able to leave it out without it making much difference,’ she says, in dire need of back-up. ‘Or do you have to add more mince?’
‘How should I know?’ Michelle says, as she sits on the floor scratching Frasse’s stomach.
You’re a big help, Vanessa thinks, and lowers the heat so that the béchamel sauce won’t stick to the pan.
‘Excuse me,’ Evelina says, ‘but are you pissed off with us because we didn’t buy chicken liver? You didn’t put it on the list.’
‘I know,’ says Vanessa. She has to try hard not to lose her temper at Evelina’s whining. ‘But celeriac was there.’
‘I don’t even know what it is, for Christ’s sake.’
Vanessa doesn’t either, but she has no intention of admitting it. The frying-pan sizzles as she tosses in the onions. ‘Never mind,’ she says. ‘It’ll have to work without it.’
‘Where did you find the recipe?’ Evelina asks. ‘In the Middle Ages?’