The Magpie Effect - The Magpie Chronicles Book 1 (#Wattys2015)

Chapter 18.1

Mona clapped her hands together and turned to face me. "Anyway, that's not what I came here for. I came here because I have something to show you."

I shifted uneasily on my perch. "Um, okay. What is it?"

"Oh, it's not here, silly. You need to come with me."

"Okay. But what is it?"

Mona tapped her nose secretively.

"Mona!" I threw my head back into a groan. "I hate when you're cryptic, pardon the pun."

"You know me," Mona said, and she offered me a wink. "Nothing excites me more than mystery and involuntary wordplay. It's a sure sign of underlying intelligence, you know."

"I don't know what's more annoying. The fact that you just called me dumb, or that you still haven't told me what you want to show me."

"Well, let's go find out." Mona twirled into the centre of the room, her hands held aloof.  When she stopped, her hair continued to fan around her as though she were swaying in a soft aquatic current. "I'll meet you downstairs in five minutes. Make up something boring to your father. Oh, and Saffy?"

I looked up. "Yes?"

Mona's eyes sparkled like nuggets of amber. "Dress up warm, or the cold will go straight through to your bones."

*

It really was cold. The air had put its warm, massaging summer hands away and armed itself instead with those sharp, pointed winter claws that nipped at the nose and ears. I could smell moss and rotting leaves and, on top of it all, the whisper of frost advancing like a wreath of barbed holly.

"What did you tell your dad?" Mona asked as we set off down the street.

"Just that I was going to Debbie's," I muttered, but before Mona could say anything sympathetic I hastily added, "But he's really relaxed. He probably thinks I'm still in my bedroom."

"It'll do."

We carried on walking in relative silence - which suited me just fine, given how stressed I got when I tried to cover up conversations with Mona in public. She took me across town, criss-crossing down alleyways and parks until civilisation began to ebb and our destination made itself known to me.

My first clue was the trees. On each side of the road they grew denser, looming through the fog like the figurehead of a ghostly ship, housed in on one side by gloomy iron fencing. Everything bled together, dark colours fused into white. 

Eventually, Mona stopped in front of a little iron gate. I stooped to peer through the bars, and shuddered at what I saw.  

Gravestones. They poked from the undergrowth like the spires of some ancient, forgotten city, some of them sinking sideways into the hungry earth and others crumbling as the willows reached down to weep away at the stone. 

I knew exactly where we were. We were at Thousands Cemetery, the only posthumous resting ground that Magpie's Nest had to offer. Beyond these gates generation after generation of Magpie had been buried, including my grandmother and all my relatives preceding her.  Judging by the dilapidated state of these gravestones, I guessed that we were at the entrance to one of the cemetery's older quarters.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Mona finally spoke. Her expression was one of utmost reverence.

"Uh, yeah," I agreed. "It's wonderful."

She wandered over to the opening in the gates, her gaze lingering over the little laminate card that read "Opening Times: 9AM-5PM Daily."  She glanced back at me, flashed an impish smile.