Free The Broken Spell by Erika McGann Page B

library. ‘This
anomaly
of yours – we don’t know what force we could pull out of there. It could kill us all!’
    Grace ducked down to her hunkers and peeked around a bookcase. The young Mrs Quinlan – Vera – sat on a desk with one foot on a chair, and one elbow leaning on her knee. Grace was back in 1977.
    ‘So what, we just ignore it?’ Meredith Gold was opposite her, pacing impatiently. ‘It’s an area of
intense
magic, right here in the school! We were
meant
to find it, Vera, don’t you get it? This is what we’re here for.’
    ‘
Meant
to find it? Would you listen to yourself? God, Meredith, you’re such a child.’
    ‘We don’t even know what’s down there.’ Grace had almost missed Beth Lemon, who sat half-hidden behind Vera, with her long fringe covering one eye. ‘The edge is burning with energy.’
    ‘Then let’s find out!’ Meredith threw her hands in the air in exasperation.
    ‘We
are
finding out,’ said Vera.
    ‘With stupid Parsing spells and energy enchantments? Why not just sit there with a clipboard and a pen for all
that’s
worth?’
    ‘You’re talking about opening up this world to another
realm
.’
    ‘I’m talking about picking up the box and giving it ashake!’ said Meredith. ‘Let’s see what comes out.’
    Vera kicked her boot off the chair and stood, turning her back to Meredith as she adjusted her piercings and pulled her denim jacket closed.
    ‘We’ll keep going with Beth’s invocations and get as much information as we can. End of story.’
    Meredith stared coldly at the back of Vera’s head and didn’t reply. Grace was so intent on the scene in front of her, she almost didn’t hear it. A gentle
shish shish
sound behind her.
    Slowly Grace looked back over her shoulder. There he was, just a few metres away behind a bookcase, his hooded coat blacker than the dark.
    Grace jumped to her feet and ran out of the door towards the Main Hall. She could hear her own heart thudding and the sound of the slicker right behind her. But there was that other noise again – that familiar metallic sound…
    Clickety-click-click
    Clickety-click-click
    Grace rounded the corner into the hall, skidding on the linoleum and sliding onto all fours. She yelped as she felt a rush of air at the back of her neck, and his hand just missing her as she lunged forward in the dimness.
    Clickety-click-click
    Clickety-click-click
    Where was the foghorn? She wasn’t safe until it sounded. Ahead of her, Grace could see the turn-off to the staff room.She swerved to make the corner and felt hands grabbing her and tightening around her waist. She was wrenched backwards and spun around. The Mirrorman grabbed a handful of her collar and she was forced to look up into the pasty, withered face. In the gloom his white eye glowed. His thin lips parted to reveal blackened teeth and gums.
    ‘You don’t belong here,’ said a dead, flat voice.
    Grace’s scream mingled with the blasting foghorn sound, and she was blinded by piercing white light. Then she was falling.
    Grace smacked onto the floor, face-first, and pain gushed through her. She groaned, cupping her sore cheek, then looked up. On the wall there were framed pictures of the school that she recognised. They were of kids she recognised, in uniforms she recognised. She was back in her own time. And she was alone.
    Except that she wasn’t. As Grace climbed to her feet, using a bench to steady her weak knees, a withered hand gripped the corner of the wall. As she pushed off the bench and headed, limping, for the exit, a pair of eyes watched her leave, one blue, one white.

8
OUT IN THE COLD
    ‘La circulation.’
    ‘La circulation, traffic. Very good, Grace.’
    Ms Lemon turned to scrawl the words across the board.
    ‘Hey,’ Jenny hissed, giving Grace a nudge. ‘Are you not talking to me?’
    Grace feigned a casual indifference and shook her head.
    ‘’Course not. I mean, of course I’m talking to you.’
    She didn’t look at Jenny, just