Like A Charm (eBook)

Elle McNicoll (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2022
Knights Of (Verlag)
978-1-913311-55-1 (ISBN)

Infos

Edinburgh is a city filled with magical creatures. No one can see them... except Ramya Knox. Discover the new thrilling adventure from multi-award winner, Elle McNicoll As she is pulled into her family's world of secrets and spells, Ramya sets out to discover the truth about the Hidden Folk with only three words of warning from her grandfather: Beware the Sirens. Plunged into an adventure that will change everything, Ramya is about to learn that there is more to her powers than she ever imagined. Shortlisted for the Yoto Carnegie Medal for Writing

Elle McNicoll is a bestselling and award-winning Scottish novelist. Her debut, A Kind of Spark, won the Blue Peter Book Award and the Overall Waterstones Children's Book Prize, as well as Blackwell's Book of 2020. She Carnegie nominated, and was shortlist

Textauszug

Chapter One

Seven Years Ago

The first time I ever saw one of them was the night that I saw my grandfather for the last time.

It was a foggy night in Kensington, London. I was five and allowed to come downstairs to my parent’s annual Christmas party, on the condition that I kept quiet and made myself useful by handing out the devilled eggs. I was the only person there my age; the adults towered over me like trees holding cocktail glasses.

I was invisible to them all. They laughed at things that weren’t funny, and always laughed too loudly. Some would make cooing noises at me and tell me my dress was pretty. I didn’t choose it, I thought it was ugly, but I said nothing.

Our house in London was narrow. High, but slender. People were crammed inside, and the presence of the guests stole every bit of air in the house. A mess of sound and smell and mystery to me. Seeing my parents and their friends outside of the school playground was like entering a portal into another world. One of secret codes and a different language. One of false expressions. Sly glances and raised eyebrows. People would clink their glasses warmly, but their eyes were cool. Assessing.

Then I saw Grandpa. Like a fleck of gold underneath the dirt.

He was in the kitchen, washing his hands. I put my empty tray down on the table but ran towards him instead of picking up another.

“Ramya!”

At five, I was easy to lift up. I don’t remember every word he ever said to me, but I can remember how they reached inside of me and made everything better. I laughed as he swung me around.

“It’s late for you to be up,” he said, not sounding the least bit disapproving. “Spotted something new under the tree?”

I beamed. I knew he would bring presents.

“Where’s Granny?”

“Home with a cold,” he replied. “She didn’t want to travel.”

“Oh, ok.”

“She picked out some of your presents, though.”

“There’s more than one?”

Mum and Dad disapproved of multiple presents, but Grandpa didn’t think there was any other way.

I pulled on his dry hand, leaning my whole small body in the direction of the front room. Most people were through there, the largest room in the house. He let me move him down the hall to join the others.

“Oh!” I suddenly remembered. “My tray.”

I hurried back into the kitchen, smiling at the hired member of staff as they handed me a new silver plate of food to give out. I concentrated very hard, as I made my way back to the party, balancing the tray with care.

There was a crescendo of voices as I neared the room. I could hear Dad telling one of his work stories, over by the nine foot Christmas tree. Mum was talking to some of her friends about how she didn’t like the school I was going to. Grandpa sat by the grand piano, ignored by the rest of the room. One finger on the keys.

I joined him, placing my tray down on the lid of the shiny black instrument.

He smiled at me, our smile. The one that only I got. “Want to open a present early?”

I almost knocked the tray over in my excitement. “Yes!”

We both glanced over at Mum. Grandpa was her father. Every bit as soft, as she was hard. Every part understanding, when she was quick to anger. Every bit warm, when she was…

A parcel wrapped in gold, with a satin pink ribbon.

“Granny wrapped it,” he explained. “She’s the master.”

I laughed. Granny was dazzling and she liked everything to be beautiful and unique. I couldn’t rip her paper; I opened the present with such care and thought. Knowing that the end result would be worth it.

And it was.

A soft, woollen hat with a little nub in its middle. Baby pink, with little red hearts. The material was so gentle; I noticed it was the same kind that my grandparents’ jumpers were always made of.

“A hat,” I exclaimed, placing it on my head.

“A beret,” he corrected, reaching over to tilt it slightly, so that it sat upon my long dark hair at an angle. “Your Granny knows how smart you are. Now she wants you to be stylish.”

I grinned. They were the only ones who ever told me I was smart. Mum would get frustrated when I knocked things over, always muttering “useless”. Dad would just glance over, grimace, and then go back to his newspaper or his phone.

“I love it,” I told Grandpa.

I turned with delight and vigour to grab my tray, only to stop dead. A tall woman with alabaster skin and a shimmering dress stood behind me. She smiled down, with teeth that were too white.

Every hair on my body stood on end. Every goosebump rose. It was like a thousand sewing needles were pressing against my skin.

“Play me a song?” she asked, her voice like windchimes. Only, it wasn’t really a question at all. She wasn’t asking.

I continued to stare up at her.

Something flickered in her face. Like a ripple.

“Play me something,” she repeated. A little more weight in her voice.

I still couldn't move. I was frozen. I simply stared up, feeling the urge to run.

Suddenly, Grandpa moved behind me. He settled himself upon the piano stool and began to play. As the music began, the woman settled a little. Her mouth turned up into a smile.

Then she opened her mouth. And sang.

I tore my eyes from her to look around the room. Everyone had stopped their conversation. Their gazes were all pinned to the woman, like a dog watching its master. She was singing a Christmas carol. In front of a fire, by a piano, to a room full of attentive listeners at a party. There was nothing unusual or untoward about any of it.

To them. To everyone else in the room. To me, something I couldn’t name had happened. Something horrifying.

As she sang ‘O Come, O Come’, her voice so pure and perfect, everyone seemed to move closer.

And I dropped my tray.

The sound of the silver crashing against the newly varnished floor was abrasive and shocking. Everyone started, including the woman. Grandpa stopped playing.

I stared back at the woman. Defiantly.

The smile was completely gone from her face this time. She opened her mouth to say something when—

“Ramya!”

Mum appeared, pushing through the crowd. She grabbed my elbow.

“Sorry about that,” she apologised to the woman profusely. “She’s very clumsy. Way past her bedtime.”

I thought about resisting as she began to walk me out of the room, but I was relieved to be going. I didn’t want to be near that woman. I didn’t want her in my house. I didn’t want her near my family.

Mum marched me upstairs and into my room. She was angry, I could tell. She hauled open a drawer and pulled out some fresh pyjamas, before throwing them down on the bed.

“Get into these, brush your teeth and then you’re going to come down and apologise to Portia.”

“No.”

She looked up in astonishment. “Excuse me?”

“No.”

Dad appeared in the doorway, always the peacekeeper. He had heard the last part of the conversation.

“Come on, Rams,” he said, his accent English. Not Scottish, like Mum’s and Grandpa’s. “Accidents happen but you need to come and say goodnight.”

“No.”

They were both completely flabbergasted. They looked at one another in disbelief.

“I beg your pardon,” Mum murmured, her voice dangerously quiet.

“Leave the girl be.”

We all turned to see Grandpa. He had his coat and hat on, like he was ready to go home.

“Dad,” Mum’s voice was clipped and tight. “Go back downstairs, this is a family matter.”

“Yes, and I’m family,” Grandpa told her sternly. “Go back to your guests and stop snarling at the poor thing. She’s too wee to be at one of your soirées anyway.”

Mum obeyed him, shooting me one last glare as Dad followed behind her. I could hear them muttering about my “cheek” as they went back down to the party.

I suddenly felt the urge to cry.

“Now, now,” Grandpa knelt in front of me and handed me a handkerchief from his woollen coat pocket. I examined it with a slightly trembling hand. It was white, with thistles embroidered on it. Each thistle had a letter. J, I, L, C and O.

“James for me,” he said, reading my mind. “Isabelle for your grandmother. Leanna for your mum’s older sister.”

“Cassandra for Mum,” I said softly.

“Exactly so. And Opal for your youngest...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 3.2.2022
• Reihe/Serie: Like a charm
• Reihe/Serie: Like a charm
• Verlagsort: London
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Kinder- / Jugendbuch ► Jugendbücher ab 12 Jahre
• Themenwelt: Kinder- / Jugendbuch ► Sachbücher
• Themenwelt: Kinder- / Jugendbuch ► Vorlesebücher / Märchen
• Schlagworte: Children's Books on Family Life • Fantasy Fiction About Wizards & Witches for Young Adults • Fiction About Family for Young Adults
• ISBN-10: 1-913311-55-4 / 1913311554
• ISBN-13: 978-1-913311-55-1 / 9781913311551