Published by Knights Of
Knights Of Ltd, Registered Offices: 119 Marylebone Road, London, NW1 5PU
www.knightsof.media
First published 2023
001
Written by Elle McNicoll
Text copyright © Elle McNicoll, 2023
Cover art by © Kay Wilson, 2023
All rights reserved
The moral right of the author and illustrator has been asserted
Typeset by Thy Bui
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publishers. If you are reading this, thank you for buying our book.
A CIP catalogue record for this book will be available from the British Library
ISBN: PB: 9781913311377
ISBN: ebook: 9781913311667
ISBN: ibook: 9781913311711
Like A Curse
Elle McNicoll
Author's Note
The protagonist of this story has been diagnosed with Dyspraxia, more formally known as Developmental Co-ordination Disorder (DCD).
It affects motor skills and processing. I was diagnosed at the age of 9. It makes my handwriting messy but, like Ramya, no one has ever been allowed to tell me what I can or cannot do.
To my family, here and beyond.
Prologue
Edinburgh in December
Evil arrived in the city with a beautiful voice and a golden key around her neck.
Saint Giles was the patron saint of Edinburgh and the cathedral that bore his name stood in the Old Town like a towering elder, disapproving and intimidating. The rain lashed against the ancient stonework; a building that had been there for centuries, longer than any of the people who lived in its city.
With the exception of a few Hidden Folk.
Marley Stewart-Napier was inside. One of his many extra-curricular activities at school was singing in the choir; the reason he now sat inside the great cathedral. His choirmates sat all around him and he could sense they were as eager as he was to sing. As soon as they sang through all the carols, it would be over. They could have a quick glass of orange juice, while the parents and visitors drank mulled wine, and then they could all go home. They had wasted an entire day rehearsing and they were all well and truly sick of the building, no matter how impressive it was.
He was ready to go home.
The cathedral was full of people, every seat occupied by an expectant face. Marley searched and searched, but could not find the ones he wanted.
His cousin Ramya was with their aunt and grandmother up in Loch Ness, that he knew. However, his mother and Ramya’s parents had promised to be there.
Marley could not see them.
He did, however, clap eyes on a face he had not been expecting. He blinked and then squinted, wondering if he was imagining it. An older boy with blonde hair and cold eyes.
“Welcome to this year’s highly anticipated Christmas Carol Service,” boomed Mitch, their choirmaster, pulling Marley’s attention away from the other boy. “We are ready to begin with our first selection and ask that you please turn off your mobile phones.”
Parents did just that, whilst others inspected the order of service sheet. Marley and the rest of the choir began to take their positions, standing in accordance to voice range. They were about to receive their first note from the organ, Mitch standing before them all like an overly serious metronome, when everything changed.
Everything.
