a great cause – that is why I fought for you against Philip Syndal and the Devourer. You and I together, we could do so much!” The grey cement appeared to shudder. “Yet here we are, bringing forth dead pets. Hamsters and cats don’t even understand the meaning of names such as ‘Fluffy’ and ‘Timkins’, whatever their owners believe, which means I have the greatest of difficulty in calling them…” Mandeville paused, his crumbly dirt features going still for a moment. “Philip Syndal had only a finger’s worth of your talent, yet he spoke to packed theatres.”
Isis drew back. “I’m nothing like Philip Syndal.”
“No, you’re not! You’re a thousand times greater! A thousand, thousand times greater.” The ground sighed a little puff of dust. “I want you to shine, Isis. I want to bring us to the world’s stage and give hope to the frightened masses of humanity.”
Isis glanced up, and saw the other girls had stopped. They were watching her, waiting. She took off her shoe and shook it out.
“I don’t want to do what Cally did,” she whispered, standing up slowly while still keeping her head bent. All the nights she’d travelled with her mum to village halls and community centres, watching Cally perform to fifty, thirty or just a handful of people. When she’d asked her mum if it was really all worth it, Cally had told her that every great stage psychic started this way.
“You won’t have to!” cried Mandeville, following Isis by oozing out of the ground. “You can go straight to the grandest theatres, even to your television.” He said the last word awkwardly, as if it were a foreign language.
“How? Do you mean going on YouTube?”
Mandeville frowned. “I have no idea what you are talking about. What I mean, child, is that you must introduce me.”
“How will that help?”
Mandeville’s body poured upwards into the air, so they were facing each other. Through him she could see her friends waiting. Jess looked impatient.
“Allow me to speak,” said Mandeville, “rather than passing on pointless messages from the unwashed dead. Then you will see the difference.”
Isis turned around to pick up her bag and, while her back was to the others, said, “You want me to tell them what you say?”
But Mandeville, who was still facing her even though she had moved, shook his head.
“We must be great, my dear. For that, Chinese whispers will not do.”
Isis felt herself go cold. “No,” she whispered.
“Did the woman in the theatre come to any harm?” Mandeville smiled and his teeth seemed longer than ever, hanging from his withered gums. Isis shivered, remembering Philip Syndal’s performance that she’d gone to see with Cally, and how Mandeville had possessed a woman sitting next to Isis, creeping inside and taking control of her body. The woman had slept through the whole performance, while Mandeville muttered comments through her mouth and waved her hands with jerky movements.
She shook her head. “I’m not letting you possess me.”
“I will rest inside you as lightly as a feather.”
Behind her, Isis could hear footsteps returning.
“Are you all right?” called Jess.
Isis turned around, her smile false and bright.
Mandeville leaned close, a confidential swirl of damp and mould.
“Let us compromise. I can say what I need to with just your mouth. No other part of your body, and certainly not your mind. Let me try, only for a few minutes, and the rest of the time I will play tricks for these children.”
Still Isis didn’t answer, shuddering inside at the thought of it.
“Do you want me to leave you alone to face your audience?” Mandeville threatened.
Isis kept her eyes on Jess, but her words were for him.
“Okay then.”
She didn’t want to, but a miserable, calculating part of her mind knew that she didn’t have a choice. Mandeville was absolutely right: without him, she’d be sitting alone in the canteen right now.
The group carried on, turning another corner, and now Isis saw the people already waiting for them. A mix of boys and girls, ranging from Year Nine up, hanging around in twos and threes, as if they’d just gathered by coincidence. A passing teacher might wonder why they were all around here, but no one was doing anything against the rules. Not yet, anyway.
There were so many, though! Isis began counting the students. When she got past twenty she put her hand on Jess’s arm.
“How many people did you invite?”
“Only six,” Jess replied, not even slowing down. “I guess they asked their friends too.” She let out a