Chapter 43
I open my mouth to scream, but Ms. Granberg grabs me tightly by the arm and yanks me to my feet before I can make a sound.
“Shh!”
She lets out a strange laugh like a clipped barking sound. So different from her usual chirping.
Her grip tightens.
“So you’ve been running around telling people that I’m trying to do away with your classmates, huh?”
She looks like she’s about to say more but stops herself.
“Let’s take this to my office,” she says, and begins walking with long, rapid strides without letting go of my arm. I have to jog to keep up.
It seems as though she’s trying to bite her tongue but can’t manage, because she looks over her shoulder and snarls, “Absolutely unbelievable.”
My teeth are chattering with terror, but I can’t break free. Her grip is too strong.
Nobody knows where I am.
The last person to see me was Mr. Lundin. Will he even remember that I stuck around late in the gym? How long would it take for someone to notice that I’m missing?
Rasmus. He’s bound to notice, but by then it might already be too late. Everything happened so quickly when Axel disappeared. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes.
Maybe a few minutes is all it takes.
Ms. Granberg opens the door to the office and pushes me inside. Then she carefully shuts the door and turns the key. She notices that I’m as stiff as a pole.
“Do you want someone to overhear us?” she says coldly.
It’s a lot messier in here than last time. There’s a bunch of papers on the desk, and several dirty cups with dried coffee grounds settled at the bottom.
“Sit down,” Ms. Granberg says and settles down behind the desk.
It’s an order, not an invitation. I do as I’m told.
“What game do you think you’re playing?” she hisses. “Telling the police that I killed Axel!” She leans forward. “Just what did you think you were going to achieve?”
Finally, I find my voice. My brain starts working again.
“You were in my bedroom!”
She just looks at me.
“You were there,” I say. “I saw you. You were the one giving me nightmares. You even asked about them during the health check! You’ve been in my room every night for weeks, haven’t you?”
I’m breathing heavily and staring at her. Behind Ms. Granberg, the eye-test chart hangs askew.
“Not every night,” she says in a spiky voice. “What did you do yesterday to stop me? Lay rune stones on the threshold?”
My jaw drops. She isn’t even denying it.
It takes a little while before I understand what she means.
“Salt,” I say weakly. “I sprinkled salt on the windowsills.”
“Ah,” says Ms. Granberg. “Did one of your grandmothers tell you to do that?”
“Yes.”
“That’s usually the way. These tough old archipelago crones know their stuff. Iron under the bed, salt on the window. They’re difficult to get at.”
My head is spinning.
All I can think about is those dirty mugs on her desk. They don’t match. One is green and the other is white with a chipped handle.
“What are you?” I ask eventually.
Ms. Granberg just sits there with a cryptic look on her face. I get the feeling that she is rather enjoying my confusion.
Then she sits up straight, loosens her blond hair over her shoulders, and says in a curiously formal voice, “I’m a mara.”