"Right."
"Why do you look at me in the odd way you do?"
All thoughts and worry about houses and mean girls disappear. How do I tell Jamie 'because I've seen you die'? I grasp at a possible other reason I could give, and blurt, "Because you're a good-looking guy."
I cringe. Seriously, Maeve? At least I didn't call him 'hot'.
Jamie blinks rapidly and then he laughs softly. "I like your excuse, Maeve, but I don't think you're telling me the truth."
I frown. "It's true. I've seen how other girls look at you too."
"Hot nerd, huh?" he asks. "I need to start wearing glasses to perfect the look. Honestly, most girls only cosy up so I'll help them with assignments."
At least his laughter breaks the awkward situation. Jamie moves and his knee touches my leg. Innocuous. Accidental. But the moment his body touches mine, an energy buzzes along my leg and straight to my heart.
The bloodied Jamie flashes across my mind, and I leap to my feet.
Jamie's brow dips. "That’s the look I mean. Are you scared of me? Did I do something?"
My hands tremble as I tuck them beneath my arms. "No. No. I'm just freaked out by everything. Thinking about initiations and crap, you know? I've had a long day."
"Ash told me you fainted before," he presses. "You look pale now. Maybe you should see a nurse? I can take you."
Thanks, Ash. "I’m fine." I grit my teeth.
"Do you have medical issues?" His intense concern echoes Ash's earlier. Ordinarily, I'd love the care and attention from two guys, but not knowing the reason why.
"Not physical issues," I mutter. I look up. "I have episodes, when I'm stressed. I hallucinate. My doctors tell me it's migraines, and I've had a couple since I arrived. If they get worse, I'll speak to somebody."
His eyes widen. "What do you see when you hallucinate? Anything that makes sense?"
"I don't want to talk about it," I whisper. "Maybe I should head to bed. Late night and all that."
Jamie nods and his fringe dips into his eyes, half-obscuring them. He hands me my bag from beside him on the floor and our fingers brush. I'm sick to my stomach when the same sensation washes over me.
"Did you see me when you had a migraine?" His voice is low, expression troubled. He clearly doesn't believe my 'migraine' excuse. "Ash said you spoke my name."
Thanks again, Ash.
"I often see people I know in hallucinations," I say breezily. "Especially the good-looking ones."
He arches a brow. "Is that right?"
"Good night, Jamie." I hurry from the room, eager to escape his line of questioning.
Yes, I see people, Jamie, but they don't usually die.
Chapter Eight
MAEVE
Amelia was in bed when I returned to the room last night. Her clothes were hanging over a chair and soaked, even though the night had been clear. I come to the fanciful conclusion swimming is part of the advanced program and students train by swimming fully clothed. I've spent years creating stories to explain the unusual and reassure myself. I'm honing those skills since I arrived at the academy.
I begin my third day here looking for people to talk to. A trip to the playing fields to find Ash isn't fruitful; nobody is training today. Amelia isn't around. She visits a local business to help out in the day but doesn't elaborate.
Following my talk with Clive and company last night, I located Lucille, the head girl, and asked if I could organise a time to meet her and Ryan. The willowy girl with the shining brown hair was less aloof than I expected but took pleasure in passing on a mysterious message: await further instructions.
Irritated, I toy with the idea of another trip to the library but decide to do maths homework in my room. I'm nervous without people I know, considering the hostility I've come across. Will things change once I swear allegiance and become a fully-fledged member of Walcott?
I text Tessa a few times, but things between us are strained already. I'll hardly see her now, thanks to boarding at the academy. The home-town gossip about who's fallen out with—or is dating—who is outside my new world and we’ll both move on. Tessa's new friends are girls I never socialised with. We run out of things to chat about and instead of a 'goodbye' the texts fizzle out.
As I'm changing for class, I spot a folded piece of paper on the floor pushed beneath the door. I'm hungry and eager to get to dinner before class, plus this could be for Amelia, but I'm too curious.
House Allegiance Ceremony
8.30 p.m.
Walcott Tower
There's no further explanation, which is enough for my stomach to churn and push away my appetite.
I change and sit on my bed, waiting for Amelia.
I don't know what this involves or if anybody else will be there, but I'm scared to go alone.
Why am I nervous about a meeting with two older students? I'm not a scared kid starting my first year at high school—the oldest here are only three years older than me. Swearing allegiance to my house feels like swearing an oath on the Bible, but tradition is tradition. Jamie and Amelia assured me I won't be subject to bizarre rituals, but since bizarre is the top word I associate with this place, I'm not sure.
The ceremony takes place alone with Lucille and Ryan, which soothes my nerves a little. I'd hate to screw up in front of an audience. Amelia and Jamie walk me over to the tower and tell me to relax; that it's nothing.
Why do I feel like they're hiding something?
The head girl’s and boy’s main room is at the top of one of the turrets visible from the front of the academy. There are three turrets for the three houses, and it makes sense the heads’ rooms would be located up there. This area inside the academy looks untouched from when it was first built. There's a spiral brick staircase and uneven floor, both created from the grey stone that matches the building's. Some of the academy has the old tiled floor from when the place was used as an asylum, especially in the classrooms. Other areas are upgraded to polished floors and modern lighting. This area is lit by old-fashioned candle-lit lanterns on the walls. Deliberately creating an atmosphere?
Jamie and Amelia accompany me up the winding staircase. Heart hammering, I take in a deep breath and turn to Amelia as we reach the door. "Wish me luck."
She pushes me on the arm. "You don't need luck, silly."
Jamie remains quiet, which unnerves me. "Are you sure I won't need to sacrifice a goat or something?" I say with a light-hearted laugh.
He gives a rueful smile. "No, but some of what they ask you to say seems over the top. This will fully bind you to Walcott house, and we protect the house and each other above all else."
"I promise not to run off to a different house." His lips purse. "Kidding." I flex my knuckles and straighten my shoulders, making a display of a fighter entering the ring.
Amelia places a hand on the door handle, ready to open. "I'll see you in class later."
"Why? Can't you wait?" I try to hide the panic.
"Do you want us to?" asks Jamie.
Amelia shakes her head at him. "We can't. You know that."
"Why?" I repeat.
They glance at each other. "It's the rules. We'll wait for you in the cafeteria," she says.
"Wearing your beautiful new blazer," Jamie adds. He pushes open the arched wooden door. "You'll be fine."
Inside, a low ceiling and dark-painted walls make the room seem smaller than it is. Beneath the arched window with bars, there's a wooden desk which two people sit behind. The high chair backs stretch above Lucille and Ryan's heads, and the pair face me.
A huge crest is pinned to the wall behind them: a five-pointed star inside a circle of runes. I glance down at the matching rug and I shift away in case I'm standing in a weird ritual circle. A blazer is folded on the desk in front of Lucille, who gives me a warm smile.
"You look terrified," she says. Her face is open and friendlier this time, but Ryan's face is solemn.
"Whenever I'm called to meetings with people, it's never for a g
ood reason." My mind harks back to my punishment and expulsion by Mrs. Peel.
Ryan gestures at the blazer. "You'll be a fully-fledged house member after this, that's all."
Why can't they hand out jackets to new students instead of forcing them into bizarro ceremonies?
Lucille nods at the paper in front of her. "Honestly, this is simple. Read what's written on the contract and sign."
Contract? I pick up the contract and scan the words. The text begins:
I, Maeve Foster, do solemnly swear to uphold the values of Walcott house:
1. Solidarity
2. Honour
3. Loyalty
I also agree that in the event of conflict between the Nightworld Academy Houses, that I should endeavour to maintain Walcott's good standing and protect other members.
I look up. "Protect them from what? Do the houses fight?"
Lucille's smile becomes forced. "There's rivalry, but that's mostly fought out once a year at the academy games."
"Which you may not qualify for," adds Ryan.
"That's not what I heard," puts in Lucille. "Theodora wants Maeve fast-tracked to the advanced program as soon as she's ready."
"Really?" Ryan stares harder at me and my fingers tighten on the paper. "Does she have the skills?"
"If Theodora says, then the rumours must be true."
Their one-sided conversation continues as I look around the room for a pen. I want to sign this and get to dinner before classes start. "I can't see why. She's not—"
"Anyway!" interrupts Lucille. "I'm sure Maeve would like to finish up, receive her colours and leave." As if to confirm her words, my stomach growls.
"Why does it say Nightworld Academy?" I ask. "The academy's name is Ravenwood."
"Step into the circle," says Ryan. "Read the words and then sign."
He produces a silver pen and clicks.
Why so many secrets?
I take a deep breath as I step into the circle, which I let go with relief when nothing happens. Then I clear my throat and read the words out loud. They begin as a mumble and when Ryan tells me to speak up, my voice wavers and I speed through the rest. Ryan watches in amusement before handing me the pen.
As I sign, an uncomfortable feeling trickles down my spine. The last paper I signed allowed doctors to admit me to a clinic and investigate my diagnosed schizophrenia. I spent a year on drugs that made me feel crap, but did nothing to stop visions, and I sneakily stopped taking them. My parents discovered the trick, and this caused a shitstorm at home. I promised to go back to the doctors if anything reoccurred.
That was the last time I shared anything about my visions to anybody.
With a shaking hand, I push the contract across the desk with hope nothing else happens. Lucille stands and hands me the dark blue blazer. "Welcome to Walcott House."
"That's it?" I blurt as I take hold of the stiff material.
"Why? What did you expect?" says Ryan with a chuckle.
"I don't know." I push both arms through the sleeves and button the blazer. The academy crest is embroidered on the left side, and the collar and sleeves trimmed in teal blue. Relief floods through me along with a strange pride: I belong.
"See you around," says Ryan, and waves a hand to dismiss me.
"Uh. Right." I turn to the door, eager to escape.
"Oh. I forgot to say. Be careful on the way across the grounds." My lifted spirits sink again at Ryan's words. "When other houses know there's a new initiate, they're likely to prank the person."
I look back. "How?"
"Don't worry, just stupid jokes and nothing serious," adds Lucille. "It's not usually painful."
Usually? Gritting my teeth, I open the door.
I knew this initiation would be harder than everybody made it sound.
Chapter Nine
MAEVE
Armed with the unwanted information people could be waiting to trick me, I tread carefully down the staircase listening for the slightest sound and wishing Jamie and Amelia had waited for me.
The route from the tower to the dining room involves stepping outside and crossing the academy grounds via the cloisters. A large willow tree is the centrepiece of the lawned area, with two benches beneath. Should I take a shortcut and cross the lawn diagonally or continue along the covered walkway? The lawn is immaculate, all the autumn leaves tidied away. Perhaps not a good idea to spoil that with my footprints.
I walk on then straighten as I see a group ahead. Continuing my journey, I relax when I see this isn't Katherine and friends. A group of guys from Gilgamesh house nod at me before returning to their conversation.
I pick up my pace and move towards the lit central doorway to the main academy building. A whimpering sound comes from nearby and I pause. Am I imagining this, or can I hear a dog? The whimpering continues and I peer into the darkness to the side of the building.
Fully aware this could be a trick, I glance around before moving closer to the noise. The sound comes from behind a wall that leads to a path that runs the back of the building and to the classrooms.
This is a trick.
No way am I walking into their trap.
I turn back to the pathway.
The whimpering is replaced by a howl of pain and my stomach twists at the sickening sound as injured yelping follows. I've been an animal lover my whole life, and however hard I try, I can't fight my need to investigate in case something needs help.
I flatten myself against the wall as I follow the sound and inch along until I'm able to peek around the corner.
I'm right. A shaggy black dog around the size of a Labrador lies on the ground whimpering. After a quick study of my surroundings, and satisfied they're empty, I approach. The dog lifts its head and whines at me before attempting to stand. The poor thing struggles and collapses back to the ground.
I cautiously approach then crouch with a hand out. "Hey, boy. You're okay, let me look at you." He doesn't growl but cowers instead, allowing me to inch closer.
In the dark, it's difficult to see any visible injuries. Touching a strange dog isn't the wisest move, but I can't help myself. His fur is rough and body hot.
"You're okay. I'll find someone to help," I say and stroke his head.
The dog leaps to its feet and I fall onto my backside as he moves. He's bigger than I thought, more Alsatian-sized, and his eyes shine bright yellow in the dark.
Crap.
Sometimes, I have zero smarts.
I wait for bared teeth. An attack. This has to be a sick joke if whoever did this is setting me up for injury. But the dog turns its head and sprints into the darkness. Another sound comes from behind, and I scramble to my feet. Three cloaked figures approach, tall, shrouded by the night.
"Very funny!" I call. "What did you do to the dog?"
The figures continue to approach, silently, and I waver between holding my ground and running back towards the building.
No. This is a set up and I refuse to be the laughing stock—Maeve, the frightened new girl who ran away.
They're too slender to be Clive or Ash, and most in Gilgamesh are built more powerfully than the figures heading my way. I bet they're from Petrescu.
I cross my arms. "Is that you, Katherine? Or Andrei? Both?"
Nobody responds.
"Come to frighten me?" I continue. "Because it's not working."
I dart a look around, for the nearest exit, but there's a wall behind me and I need to pass them to reach the cloisters.
"You can't hurt me," I say as much to myself as them.
I jump half out of my skin when the dog nearby howls. The figures pause and turn their heads to each other. I dip my face to try to see their faces, but the hoods hang forward completely obscuring their features.
"What a cliché," I continue. "Mysterious people in long cloaks. This has to be you, Andrei."
The dog nearby barks, the sound echoed back by howls from elsewhere. I've not seen any dogs on campus, but there are stables and other buildings edg
ing the property, where I think one or two of the teachers live. Maybe they have dogs?
I march over and attempt to grab one figure's hood, ready to expose his or her face. The figure shoves me hard and I land spread-eagled in front of him or her. Scrambling to my feet, I back off again, aware the space between them and the cloisters is narrowing.
As the dog continues to howl and the figures continue to advance, my cockiness leaves. Especially when hands emerge from beneath one of the cloaks holding a rope. Male hands pull the length of the rope taut and lifts it upwards in front of him.
My blood chills. Is he going to strangle me?
No. Nobody would hurt me. They're just trying to scare me.
"Let me past, you arseholes!" I shout and plunge forward to run past them, elbowing my way through the bodies. I'm not strong, but I'm agile, and if one of them touches me I'll demonstrate what I learned in my school's self-defence classes.
I don't make it past. One grabs my arms and before he can take the other, I reach out to pull down the hood of another. If they hurt me, I'll describe to the teachers exactly who the hell these people are.
I seize the thick material and reveal a face belonging to a man much older than a student. He's middle-aged with hair swept back that's greying at the temples. His sharp features and thin-lipped smile are filled with malice as he stares back at me. My assailant seizes my other arm, and the man in front jerks his head at the hooded figure holding me but doesn't speak.
I'm lifted from the ground and I let out a scream as loud as the dog's howl. I haven't met every teacher, but this couldn't be one. If they were involved in hazing a student, that would be a disciplinary offence, surely.
Before he pulls his hood back up, I memorise the man’s face from the high forehead and sharp cheekbones to the scar below his eye. Unable to move my arms, I'm slung across a man's shoulder like a father picking up a misbehaving toddler.
I scream again, louder, and the sounds bounces off the stone walls into the darkness.
Chapter Ten
Nightworld Academy Box Set 1 Page 5