“I wonder how Ariadne got on,” Ivy said. “With her first night sharing with Muriel, I mean.”
Once we were dressed and ready, we went to investigate. We knocked on their door and Ariadne’s mousy face peered out. “Morning,” she whispered, slipping into the corridor.
“So … did you survive?” Ivy asked, even though it was plainly obvious that she had.
Ariadne’s brow wrinkled. “Nothing happened. She seemed upset after that incident with Ebony, and I asked if she was all right. That cheered her up a little. Then she just said she was going to read a book and didn’t speak another word.”
“See?” I poked her gently. “I told you it would be fine.”
“Scarlet, stop poking people,” Ivy said.
I poked her in the arm, just to prove a point.
Ariadne still didn’t look very reassured. I noticed there were bags under her eyes, and her hair was a bit of a tangle. “So you didn’t sleep as well as we did?”
She shuffled her feet. “Well, I know it’s silly, but I couldn’t relax knowing she was in the room. It was like … being haunted or something. I can’t forget what she was like before.”
As if on cue, the door opened and Muriel appeared. We all looked up – and Ariadne went a bit white. But she didn’t seem to have heard what we’d been saying. She just smiled at us. “Morning,” she said. “What do they do for breakfast around here?”
“Porridge,” I said.
“Oh.” She didn’t seem too disappointed. For someone who had apparently been the worst bully since Penny, she appeared to be quite cheerful. “Well, see you down there.” She strode away towards the stairs.
We both looked at Ariadne without saying anything. I raised my eyebrows, as if to say: A bully? Really?
“I’m serious!” she squeaked. “She was awful!”
“It’s all right,” said Ivy. “We believe you. It’s just that … she seems different now.”
I nodded in agreement. “I think it’s Ebony we need to worry about.”
In the dining hall, the familiar thick smell of porridge greeted us, but I could see something was different straight away.
Ebony had gained a following.
It was only a small one, but it was still a following. She was up at the serving hatch and there was a little group of girls trailing her like kittens round their mother.
As we got closer, I realised that the group mostly consisted of Ariadne’s old roommates, as well as some of the other younger girls.
“What’s that about?” I hissed, gesturing over to them as we joined the back of the queue.
Ariadne’s eyes were wide. “I think she has a fan club.”
We watched as two of the girls fought over who was going to carry Ebony’s tray for her, which was eventually solved by Ebony handing one of them her mug of tea. They went over to one of the tables and all gathered round her. She was talking. I had no idea what she was saying, since it just faded into all the surrounding noise, but they were all leaning in and hanging on her every word. She waved a hand at one point and all their eyes followed it, as if she were drawing something in the air.
“Now that’s just odd,” I said. “She can’t be that interesting, surely?”
One of the new teachers went over – by the looks of it, she was telling some of them off for not sitting at their house table. But they didn’t pay her any attention, and she walked off looking red-faced and flustered.
When we’d picked up our helpings of porridge, we headed for our table. I couldn’t help taking a sneaky detour past where they were sitting. Pieces of their conversation floated to my ears.
“Is it true?” I heard one of the younger girls say.
“Teach me, Ebony, please!”
“Show us what you can do!”
I rolled my eyes. They were so unbelievably desperate for her attention.
But the last exchange I caught as I walked past them was more interesting.
“Can you really do magic?” I heard Agatha say, her voice glittering with awe.
For a moment, Ebony said nothing. I stopped in my tracks. She was looking straight at me, and her stormy eyes seemed to crackle with lightning.
“Yes,” said Ebony. “Yes, I can.”
I’d studied the new timetable carefully. It was a relief to actually have been given one, and not just to have to trail after Ariadne like I’d done when I’d started at Rookwood, pretending that I knew what was happening. The first lesson was history, with Madame Lovelace – a teacher so old that she appeared to have acquired cobwebs.
“Anywhere you like, girls,” she was saying in her creaky voice as we filed into the room. “It’s a new year, after all.”
Scarlet and I darted to get desks side by side. I only realised once I’d got there that it meant Ariadne would have to go behind us. “Sorry,” I whispered.
“It’s all right,” she said, finding a desk a few rows back.
Madame Lovelace sat down at her desk. “Right then, everyone,” she said. “Open your books at page one hundred and fifty-three. And make sure you memorise those dates.” She waggled her finger at us all.
And while we were pulling out the books and finding the pages, she bowed her head and began to snore.
“Did she just fall asleep?” I heard Muriel say.
“That’s normal,” Scarlet remarked. We didn’t even need to whisper. Madame Lovelace was rather deaf at the best of times. I didn’t think even a speeding train could wake her up once she’d nodded off.
“So what do we do now, then?” another new girl asked.
“I have an idea.” A voice came from behind me.
I gulped. That Scottish accent was becoming familiar to me now. The way Ebony spoke … it was like she was inviting you into a dream.
Or a nightmare.
“Why don’t I demonstrate something for you?” she said. Before anyone could say a word, she was striding to the front of the class. She turned to face us. There was a strange, far-off look in her stormy eyes.
“Just ignore her,” Scarlet muttered, looking for the page in her textbook. “Then maybe she’ll go away.”
“I’ll need a volunteer,” said Ebony, raising her voice. Madame Lovelace continued to snore in the chair.