Chapter 4: Frost and Stone

The mirror made a satisfying smash as she hit it with her chair. She kept swinging at the dresser until both it and the chair were splinters. Trophies became missiles embedded in the wall. She used a piece of the mirror to slash her school uniform to shreds. When she was done, she used her blood to draw on her walls. She didn't know what she was drawing, but it felt right. It felt powerful. She smashed everything she could break, broke holes in the plaster walls. The rage drove her to exhaustion, then she sat in the midst of the destruction and wept.

"Now, you can't tell me that didn't feel some good."

Siobhan gasped and looked for the source of the voice. A tiny grey man sat in the centre of her bed. Siobhan stood up and backed against the wall.

"Who are you?" she said, "And where did you come from?"

"You called me," he said, "I always come when I'm called." He waved his hand at the demolished room. "This is a fine spell for a beginner."

"Spell?" Siobhan said. "You make me sound like a witch."

"You are a witch," the man said, "red hair and all. You can try to cover it up, but it will show through just the same. Besides," he leered at her, "you missed a bit."

Siobhan clutched at the robe and tied it tight shut.

"A lass like you should be happy to show off. You people used to dance naked under the moon." He leered at her again, "It's a full moon tonight. I could teach you."

"I already have enough people trying to teach me," Siobhan said, "I don't need any more."

"Now is that any way to treat someone you just called to you in blood and rage?" The man on the bed started to grow bigger. "Maybe there is a first lesson I should be teaching you." When he stood up Siobhan realized he was naked. The diagrams from health class became disgustingly clear. She thought of Mr. Riordan at school.

"I wish they were dead," she said.

"Ah, now we're getting somewhere," the man said. He jumped off the bed and walked toward her. Siobhan wondered how he could manage. "What will you give me to grant your wish?"

"Are you the devil after my soul?" Siobhan felt a little foolish asking, but while she didn't feel God anywhere, this not so little man felt cold and ugly to her.

"What would I be wanting with your soul?" The grey man shook his head. "I want you."

Siobhan laughed, "Get in line, creep." The rage boiled up inside her and exploded. "You can have this," she shouted and kicked the man as hard as she could between his legs.

He fell gasping to the floor, and she thought he was having a seizure. Then she realized he was laughing.

"Done," he said and vanished.

Cold emptiness replaced the anger. How had she managed to have enough energy to do all that destruction? She dropped the robe to the floor and picked some clothes from the mess. She shook twinkling shards of mirror off them and dressed in layer after layer. It didn't matter, she was still cold. It was like ice had invaded her.

Her parents were going to kill her, really truly kill her, and then her mother would tell everyone how she was going to hell.

Siobhan thought a little flaming lake wouldn't be a bad thing right now. She picked her way out of the room and ran out of the house. She had no idea where she was going to go. She put her hands in her pocket and found a stone. She pulled it out and saw that it was the one that her aunt had sent her. Her mother must have grabbed the wrong one.

The stone was the reason for all this, but when she held it she didn't feel as cold. She put it and her hand back into her pockets and headed toward the school. She had an unfinished conversation with Mr. Riordan.

The weather forecast had predicted rain, but it started to snow. The snow suited her mood. The stone was keeping her warm now. She imagined what she was going to say to Riordan.

She walked up the stone walk to the main doors. She usually entered through the back, but the stone told her to use these doors that opened into the main foyer and the offices.

The warmth and moisture of the school air hit her face as she walked into the school. 'Academy of God's Word' declared the crest set in the tiled floor. What did this ostentation have to do with God? She stopped, confused in the foyer. What was she doing here? She wasn't in uniform; she was going to be so dead.

The bell rang. Students poured out of the classrooms and milled through the hall. The foyer wasn't a shortcut anywhere, so Siobhan watched the bodies bump and flow. For a second she caught a glimpse of something beneath the movement of students, some kind of order.

Then Mr. Riordan stepped out of the flow and the order vanished.

"What are you doing here?" he said, "I thought I sent you home."