The Ondine Collection

by Ebony McKenna

  “But if ye fail, she’ll send ye home. I need ye here with me, Ondi, I can’t do this without ye.”

  His kiss made Ondine feel warm all the way through. It affected her brain like amnesia potion, making her forget everything except him.

  Which is why it took them so long to get back to the room she shared with Draguta.

  After another of his sweet kisses, Hamish pulled back and said, “Is school so horrible that ye’d want tae leave me?”

  “Of course not. Did I tell you we’re doing a play for the Harvest Ball at Halloween?” They had to keep their voices low, so as not to wake her room-mate. It had the effect of making Hamish even more delectable when everything he said sounded like sweet nothings in her ear.

  “No, ye didnae. Yer in a play? Sounds like fun.”

  “It only lasts for five minutes, no biggie.”

  “What’s your role? Queen of the Harvest?”

  “Er, no. Promise you won’t laugh.”

  “I solemnly swear.” Hamish made the sign of an “x” over his heart. Then he did the sweetest thing, he leaned in and tenderly rubbed his nose against Ondine’s.

  Ondine gave a quiet sigh. “I’m the Cabbage.”

  Hamish smiled, but kept his honourable promise and didn’t laugh. “Is that so bad? Is it a speaking role?”

  “I have one line.”

  “That’s Barry. I can’t wait tae see it. I’ll tell Old Col, we’ll be cheering for ye.”

  Ondine gave Hamish a kiss. “Thanks.”

  “What fer?”

  “For not making fun of me.”

  “I wouldnae do that. But lass, ye still look sad.”

  Another dramatic sigh. “I am. If I want to stay here, I have to study even harder. I’d better hit the books . . . and you’d better go.”

  Even though she’d been the one to say he had to leave, it hurt to see him walk away. Her textbooks beckoned.

  AT SCHOOL THE NEXT morning, Ondine tried not to look at the teacher. All that eavesdropping made her feel guilty. Could she look Ms Kyryl in the eye without giving away what she knew?

  They sang the national anthem. To Ondine’s surprise they sounded like a well-rehearsed choir.

  For once, things went Ondine’s way. Andreas was sick and Ms Kyryl allowed her to sit with Hetty again.

  “Hetty, your voice is amazing this morning,” Ondine whispered as they took their seats. “Are you having extra lessons or something?”

  Hetty blushed and her cheeks turned into little apples. “No, I’m not, but thank you for the compliment.”

  “Seriously, you should audition for Brugel’s Best.”[162]

  A naughty look crossed Hetty’s face. “My parents would die! They want me to become a financial advisor.”

  “A what?”

  “An accountant.”

  “Oh!” Ondine felt slightly sorry for Hetty. She had such a chirpy, bubbly way about her. Ondine couldn’t see her sitting behind a desk crunching numbers all day.

  “Girls, please,” Ms Kyryl said. “Don’t make me split you up again. Open your history books to chapter eleven.”

  Ms Kyryl told them off three more times for talking before they finished history. Then it was time to rehearse the Harvest Pageant. It was so nice chatting with Hetty again, Ondine forgot to hate her Cabbage role and began to enjoy herself.

  AFTER SCHOOL ONDINE grabbed a mortadella sandwich from the kitchen and dashed off to wait for Hamish and Old Col by the crepe myrtle trees. She had about five minutes before Anathea would start wondering where she was. The chill wind bit at her ears and blew the last of the leaves away – the trees were bare now except for their nobbly little seed pods. Ondine felt cold and exposed.

  “Ondine, how lovely to see you here,” Old Col said as she approached. She said it loudly enough that if anyone else heard or saw them, it would look like a chance encounter. Old Col had come dressed for this early taste of winter, wearing a faux-fur hat and muff.

  For a moment Ondine wondered where Hamish could be. To her deep disappointment, Shambles the ferret poked his head out from inside the muff. The wind whipped at his head, parting the fur to reveal fragile skin beneath.

  “It’s right freezing, so it is, and me winter coat hasnae come in yet,” he said.

  A little ping of panic shot through Ondine. “Hamish, why aren’t you being you?” The last time they’d met here, he’d been his beguiling self, all lopsided grin and mischievous eyes. Now he just looked like a bundle of trouble. And not the fun sort she might enjoy either.

  “Sorry, lass, havetae work,” Shambles said, with a ferrety grimace.

  Another little ping went off in Ondine’s chest.

  Old Col coughed and looked about. “We can’t stay long, we’re due at afternoon tea presently. Ondine, do you have any news?”

  Ondine stopped gazing at her sweetheart-stuck-as-a-ferret and turned to Old Col. The cool wind had added some rosy colour to her cheeks, and she looked much recovered from the worming medicine. Ondine could have sworn her great aunt was enjoying herself. Getting paid to attend afternoon teas, early dinners and late soirées – who wouldn’t love it? Meanwhile, she was working too hard and studying late and generally feeling as if life wasn’t fair.

  “The Infanta is cracked like a dropped egg. And Vincent’s total pain in the rear.”

  Shambles laughed. “No change there, then. Although, now ye mention him, he has nae given up me secret, so mebbe he’s not all bad.”

  “That’ll be the day,” Ondine said.

  Old Col’s face became stern. “Don’t speak too loudly, my dear. You never know who is listening. But well done on moving through the ranks, I’m sure you’ll learn a great deal from Anathea. Hamish told me your teacher is giving you a hard time. You’ll have to work extra hard there.”

  “Yes, Col. What little spare time I have will be spent studying.”

  A fresh blast of wind ripped through the trees and Shambles burrowed back inside the muff. Right now Ondine needed Hamish to be himself. The wind whipped her dark hair around and stung her eyes. She looked away and wiped her face. It was the cold wind making her eyes water, nothing more.

  “I have to go,” she said sadly. “Anathea wants trout for supper again.”

  Col tilted her head in thought. “Interesting that she should have a taste for it. I wonder if this is her way of defying the Duke?”

  “Do I get a kiss?” Shambles stuck his head out from the muff.

  “Of course.” Ondine gave a sniff as she remembered how very much she adored kissing Hamish. Today all she could give him was a peck on the top of his furry head. She turned and ran towards the lake before the tears of frustration burst free.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Things did not improve for Ondine. Every morning she rose extra early to fix the Infanta’s breakfast. Which, to her continued horror, Anathea shared with the dog. Then she made it to class and did her best to concentrate, then it was back to the Infanta and her bizarre demands for the rest of the afternoon. At the weekend it was laundry in the afternoons. At the end of each day, she had about an hour to cram in homework before she staggered off to bed and it all started again the next morning. There just weren’t enough hours in the day to study properly, so although she did her best, it wasn’t good enough.

  On one cold and dark night, after everyone had gone to bed, Ondine woke to find herself asleep on her desk, a trickle of dribble blurring her notes.

  “Psst, lass, there’s another test in the morning.”

  Groggy, she rubbed her eyes to find Shambles under her desk. She was so tired, she didn’t even have the energy to wish he was his wonderful self instead of the little animal. “There’s a test every morning.”

  “I have the answers for ye, just in case ye need them, like.”

  No energy to fight, Ondine took the folded sheet of paper from Shambles and staggered into bed, fully clothed.

  The next morning, as classes finished and they broke for lunch, Ms Kyryl asked Ondine to go int
o her office. Ondine wasn’t thinking particularly psychic thoughts, but she knew it couldn’t be a good thing to have to stay behind. When she yawned, it only made things worse.

  “Ondine, please sit.”

  Tightness gripped her belly. Ms Kyryl wasn’t even twisting her mouth in thought – did that mean she’d already made her mind up?

  Shambles scurried out from under the teacher’s desk and Ms Kyryl frowned.

  “I’m so sorry,” Ondine said. “Ha–Shambles, come here, please.” She patted her knee and noticed her hand was trembling. Questions flooded her. What was he doing here? Had he broken his cover? To her relief, Shambles climbed up to her shoulder and gave her a scratchy nuzzle just below her ear.

  Schh-makkk!

  When would she see Hamish again, properly, with meltathon kisses and swoonworthy cuddles?

  Ms Kyryl said, “I’ll get to the point. I’m not sure how you’re doing it, but your marks are phenomenal. You can’t be copying from Hetty because most of the time you’re sitting across the class from her. I doubt Andreas is any help.”

  The good grades should have been welcome news, except the teacher looked puzzled and unhappy. A nasty weight pulled at Ondine’s shoulders and it wasn’t because of Shambles sitting there.

  “Can you tell me how you’re doing it?”

  It called for stalling tactics. “Um, doing what?”

  “Doing so well. When you first came here, you had trouble settling in and your work was well below the class average. When I asked you questions, your answers were generally off the mark. Now your test results are leading the pack. What’s going on?”

  Swallow. “I’m studying really hard. That’s why I’m so tired.” That was the true, but not the whole truth.

  Ms Kyryl looked unimpressed. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  Double swallow. Shambles gave her a kiss. Ondine didn’t know what to say.

  Mr Kyryl gave up waiting. “OK, let’s try another way. In all my years of teaching, I have never seen a student improve so much in such a short space of time. I am good, but not that good. Which leads me to one conclusion. You are getting help.”

  A very small truck poured concrete into the pit of Ondine’s stomach. She wasn’t proud of having cheated, in fact, she was downright ashamed, but she’d done it because she loved Hamish so much she’d do anything to stay with him. And she’d worn herself down from studying every night.

  Ms Kyryl folded and unfolded her hands. “Can you please tell me how you are getting help and who is giving it to you?”

  Ondine looked at her blankly, because her brain had gone so very blank. It was also very quiet in there. If Shambles tried to help with a suggestion, Ms Kyryl would hear the ferret talking, and then Ondine would have a whole heap more explaining to do.

  “Fine, I’ll spell it out.” Ms Kyryl rubbed a spot on the bridge of her nose. “I take cheating very seriously. I am on the verge of making a recommendation to the Duke that you leave the palechia school and return to your parents in Venzelemma. Do you have anything to say that might make me change my mind?”

  Mercury’s wings! Dry mouth, check. Tight tummy, check. Strange hazy wobbly feeling through her limbs. Checkeroony.

  “I . . .” Ondine’s pride shrivelled as she tried to think her way out of this mess. All she could come up with was the one excuse she really, really didn’t want to use. But it was the only one that had any chance of working. “The reason I’m doing so well . . . is because I’m psychic.”

  “You’re what?” Ms Kyryl burst out laughing. “Now I’ve heard everything.”

  “But it’s true. I spent my summer holidays getting better at it.” Or at least getting better at telling whopping great fibs.

  “Oh, really?” Ms Kyryl wiped her eyes, as if the very idea could make her cry with laughter.

  Zoing! An idea popped into Ondine’s head. “I can prove it. I can talk to animals. I can talk to Shambles right here. And I can help you talk to him as well. Give me your hands and I’ll show you.” A surge of confidence came over her. So long as Shambles played his part, they’d bluff their way out of this mess.

  “I suppose you’re going to put me in a trance?” Ms Kyryl asked, one eyebrow darting up with suspicion.

  “No, not needed.” Tell the truth, she had thought of doing just that. For about a tenth of a second. She’d never tried – just observed trances at Psychic Summercamp. They’d looked a bit fake, too. Something in the back of her mind told Ondine her best chance of convincing Ms Kyryl of her psychic abilities was to play things very straight.

  Shambles crawled on to the table and stood up on his back legs. He looked at Ms Kyryl, then back at Ondine.

  Ms Kyryl’s mouth did that side-twisty thing, indicating she was deep in thought.

  “Hold my hand, Ms Kyryl, then you’ll be able to hear Shambles through me.”

  The teacher’s cool hand clasped Ondine’s and the game was on. It had to be utterly convincing and completely accurate. Her future at the school and at the palechia – and therefore her time with Hamish – depended on it.

  “Ms Kyryl, this is Shambles. He is my animal guide to the spirit world.” Oh, how easily the false words came to her tongue!

  Ms Kyryl twisted her mouth in a ‘humour me’ kind of way. Shambles stepped forward and put his paw on the back of Ms Kyryl’s hand.

  “It is lovely to meet you, Dionysia,” Shambles said. He spoke with barely a trace of his Scottish accent. He sounded so formal, so believable. So clever!

  Ms Kyryl blinked and looked from Shambles to Ondine. Slowly, she shook her head and looked at the little ferret. A Greek curse slipped from her lips.

  “Yassou to you as well!” Shambles said.[163]

  Ms Kyryl looked daggers at Ondine. “This is some kind of trick.”

  “No, nothing of the sort. Ms Kyryl, I am sorry to upset you, but this is completely real. Even I find it hard to take sometimes. I know I professed my love for science to you. Now I’m asking you to believe in magic. But . . . do you not think it’s entirely possible for science and magic to co-exist?”

  Shambles gently rubbed his paw on Ms Kyryl’s turning-white knuckle. “You can use this to tell the bairns all about irony. Aye, it’s a good one.”

  Panic burrowed in when Ondine heard Shambles’s accent slip.

  “Ms Kyryl, what would you like to know?” Ondine asked, keen to keep things moving.

  The teacher drew a long, slow, breath, shaking her head. Ondine felt a bit sorry for her. This whole talking-animal caper was a lot to dump on someone.

  Ms Kyryl exhaled. “You’re the psychic one, why don’t you tell me?”

  “OK.” It would have been easier with a bit of a hint, just so she knew where to start. As they were holding hands, Ondine figured she may as well start with them. She turned over her teacher’s palms to look at the lines.

  “You’re left-handed, which I already know because I’ve seen you with a pen in your hand,” Ondine said. A little internal voice reminded her to keep this as straight-down-the-line as possible. “In your case, the right hand is the life you were born with, and the left hand is the life you have made for yourself. Now if we look at the . . . this is really interesting.”

  The lines on the right hand were curved and swirly, the lines on the left were angular and straight. On both palms the lifeline cut deep and true, but on the left hand the fate line stopped short, then started again, slightly to one side of the first line.

  “Ms Kyryl, you were born a creative, dramatic and emotional person, but you’ve carved a whole new life for yourself. It’s like your parents wanted you to follow one path, but you’ve made a determined effort to become something else. Emotions aren’t a weakness, but for you they might have been.”

  “This is all very general,” the teacher said, chewing the inside of her cheek. “I fail to see how any of this applies directly to –”

  “Ambition burns at the core of your being and you pine for a lost love,” Shambles inte
rrupted.

  Zoing!

  “How dare you!” Ms Kyryl withdrew her hands. “Ondine, if this is some kind of sick joke, you can stop it now.”

  Cold, clammy dread snaked through Ondine’s heart. “I apologise, Ms Kyryl. Shambles can be too blunt at times, but he calls it as he sees it. You are very, very good at your job, but the lines on your hands say you yearn for something more creative. I’ve noticed, lately, when we sing the national anthem, you have a beautiful voice. Did you want a musical career instead of a teaching post? Perhaps you had a patron who might have supported you if not for some twist of fate?” Ondine felt like she was grasping for ideas, but it all seemed to fit. And if she hinted at the patronage angle, her teachers’ relationship with the Duchess might come to light.

  “I’ve had enough!” Ms Kyryl glared at Ondine. “I called you in here to give you one last chance to stay. This is not the way to do it.”

  Panic exploded into full-blown fear. A strange numb feeling spread over Ondine. “I am very sorry, Ms Kyryl. I didn’t mean to be so blunt. I promise you I will never say a word of this to anyone.”

  “That point is moot. As of this moment, Ondine, you are no longer a student at the palechia. I will recommend to the Duke that you return to your parents in Venzelemma.”

  “Stop pretending ye only just decided that,” Shambles said, “Ye were gointae do that anyway.”

  Something swirly happened in Ondine’s head and she thought she might pass out.

  Ms Kyryl folded her arms across her lean chest. “Why are you still here? Go!”

  Feeling utterly wretched, Ondine dragged her feet from the converted barn and made straight for the privacy of her room.

  “Great Jupiter’s moons, I’m finished!”

  Chapter Twenty

  Panic and fear made it impossible for Ondine to think straight as she slumped back on her bed. Ms Kyryl’s words kept swirling in her head and all she could focus on was her imminent expulsion from the palechia.

  “Aw, I’m so sorry, me love,” Hamish said.