by Susie Bower
‘Do you swear this is true?’ I whispered.
‘I swear it,’ croaked the Bird. ‘I swear it on your own twin’s life.’
Outside the room, footsteps clumped up the spiral staircase.
The Bird shuffled back into the darkness of the cabinet, and the door began to close.
‘Wait!’ I shouted. ‘When will I see Silver again?’
The Bird winked its yellow eye. ‘Not until the night.’
‘The night?’
‘The night when the mirror becomes a door to the Academy. The night when you will join your twin forever.’
‘When will that be?’ I cried again, but the cabinet door had creaked shut.
The door to the room swung open. Mr Gold stood at the entrance. He looked just the same as ever, with his sad eyes, his wild curls and his blue braces. I couldn’t help remembering what he’d said to me in his study, about how some people looked very different on the inside to the way they looked on the outside. On the outside, Mr Gold was kind and gentle. But what if the Bird was telling the truth? Its scary words jangled around in my head. Liar. Thief. Coward. Murderer.
Mr Gold limped over to me. ‘Child, you were shouting. Are you all right?’
I scuffed my trainer on the floor. ‘I’m OK.’
There was a long silence, but I didn’t look up. I hoped that Mr Gold couldn’t see what I was feeling, because I felt angry and betrayed and hurt. If he had lied to me, and—much, much worse—if he had been too cowardly to save his twin and Leonora from the fire, I just couldn’t bear it.
I glanced over my shoulder at the cabinet but it had disappeared again.
Mr Gold sniffed sharply. He looked puzzled and worried. ‘Go downstairs while I shut the room.’
I ran to the door and hurried down the stairs. I didn’t want him to see the tears dribbling down my cheeks and into my mouth. I wasn’t just crying about not seeing Silver. I was crying because of Mr Gold.
IT ALL GOES WRONG
I headed towards the kitchen, where the others were having lunch, and stood for a bit outside the door. Tears kept leaking out of the corners of my eyes. No sooner did I wipe them away than fresh ones trickled down. Mr Gold was the only person I’d trusted in my whole life, apart from Silver. But the Bird said he’d lied to me. And, much worse, that he hadn’t even tried to save Fred and Leonora and their children from the fire.
Everything had gone wrong. Silver had disappeared. Rule Boy was angry because of what I’d said about his father. The others thought I was a liar. And even Feral, who I’d just begun to be friends with, had turned out to be a Shapeshifter.
I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, took a deep breath, and opened the kitchen door.
Rule Boy, Custard and Saddo were eating soup round the big scrubbed table. Floating in it were poached eggs and red chilli peppers. No one looked up as I came in. I helped myself to a bowl of soup from the saucepan on the stove. No way was I going to show anyone I was upset.
I sat down at the table next to Custard. She edged away from me. Saddo, his mouth full, flicked a cold glance at me and turned away. Feral was down on all fours on the floor, licking his plate. He always ate like that if Miss Cruet wasn’t in the room. Rule Boy stared at me in a disgusted sort of way, like I’d trodden in something smelly, or hadn’t washed for a week.
‘What?’ I said.
‘Don’t play the innocent,’ he snapped. ‘You know exactly what you did.’
‘I’m sorry for what I said about your—’
‘Don’t you even mention my dad!’ hissed Rule Boy.
‘We c-couldn’t do our rehearsal because of you,’ said Custard. ‘So we’re going to do it now. And you’re n-not allowed to join in.’
‘So much for the Musketeers.’ Saddo raised his voice and mimicked mine: ‘All for one, and one for all! You couldn’t care less about our show.’
‘All you care about is your stupid imaginary twin,’ added Rule Boy.
‘Twin,’ said Feral.
I screwed up my eyes to stop the tears falling again. ‘I do care about the show. It was just that I—’
The kitchen door opened and Miss Cruet swept in.
‘You,’ she said, pointing at me. ‘To my study. NOW.’ And she stood holding the door.
I turned to Rule Boy and the others. ‘I’ll come down to the rehearsal and tell you what I—’
‘TO MY STUDY!’ barked Miss Cruet.
I had no choice but to follow her.
*
Every surface of Miss Cruet’s study was covered in something, and most of it was knitted. Even the clock had a sort of knitted hood and the mirror had a knitted frame. The chairs were draped in layers of patchwork, the floor was covered in knitted mats, and an enormous pile of multicoloured scarves, waistcoats, hats with pom-poms and gloves tottered on the desk.
But I only noticed these things for a moment, because my eyes were drawn to two people sitting on upright chairs beside Miss Cruet’s desk. My mouth dropped open in horror.
The two people were Sonia and Claude.
And on the floor beside the desk was my old bag, full of the things Miss Cruet had taken away on our first day at Nobodies.
‘Sit!’ said Miss Cruet.
I removed a knitting needle and several balls of fuzzy purple wool from a chair, and sat down. I couldn’t think properly. So many horrible things had happened, and they were all mixed up in my head, like clothes spinning in a washing machine.
Sonia’s mouth was screwed up tightly, and Claude was patting her on the hand.
Miss Cruet glared at me. Her hair was pulled back in such a tight bun that her eyebrows looked surprised.
‘I have summoned Mr and Mrs Finklebottom—’
‘Finklebome,’ hissed Sonia.
‘—for an emergency meeting to discuss your behaviour.’
‘Which is very inconvenient,’ said Claude, ‘since Sonia has the makings of a migraine, haven’t you, my delicate duckling?’
Sonia put a hand to her forehead and sighed. ‘Please…’ she murmured, ‘don’t call me our special names in public.’
Claude patted her hand again. ‘Sorry, my captivating cabbage.’
Sonia glared at him.
‘Then the sooner we get this over with, the better,’ Miss Cruet barked, and Sonia gave a shudder and shut her eyes.
Miss Cruet picked up a ledger from the desk and turned to me.
‘You have barely been at this school a week,’ she said, ‘but already you have amassed a long list of misdemeanours.’ She ran her finger down the page.
‘Item one: putting yourself and your classmates in danger by leading them into the wood in a thunderstorm and climbing a tree in said storm.
‘Item two: flouting the school rule by communicating with the Academy.
‘Item three: wandering the school at night under the pretence of sleepwalking.
‘Item four: accusing a classmate of being a thief.
‘Item five: taunting that same classmate about his father.
‘Item six: letting your classmates down by refusing to attend their rehearsal.
‘Item seven: kicking another classmate.’
‘But I… They—’ My mouth felt all mixed up and I couldn’t find the words.
‘Silence! In addition, you seem incapable of telling the truth: your classmates tell me that you have made up an imaginary sister, and Mr Gold was concerned that you told him that you’d met a talking bird in the Room of Reflection. These are serious matters, and I see little option but to expel you forthwith.’
‘E-expel me?’ I whispered.
‘Oh, now look here—’ blustered Claude.
‘Wait!’ Sonia got to her feet and glared down at Miss Cruet. ‘We sent Claudia to your school because her behaviour had got out of control. We are certainly not having her back until you can guarantee that she has become normal.’
‘Normal?’ Miss Cruet harrumphed. ‘You are mistaken if you think it is our intention to make any of the children i
n our care normal.’
Sonia gawped. ‘Whaaaaat?’
Claude grabbed her arm. ‘Scrumptious pumpkin, remember your migraine. You know what happens when you become overwrought!’
Then I stood up. I was shaking all over and That Feeling was churning in my tummy like a whirlpool.
‘Shut up!’ I shouted. ‘Shut up, all of you!’
They turned to stare at me.
‘I did break the school rule, and I’m sorry for that. And I only climbed the tree to rescue… the feral boy. And I’m sorry for saying what I said about Rule B—I mean, my classmate’s father. As for the other things, I had good reasons for doing them…’
‘Which were?’ snapped Miss Cruet.
‘I can’t tell you!’ I hung my head. I’d promised Silver I wouldn’t tell Miss Cruet or Mr Gold about her. Then I looked up, right into Miss Cruet’s eyes. ‘But I have never been a liar. And I never will be either. So don’t you ever call me that—EVER!’
There was a long silence. I stared at Miss Cruet’s knitted boots. The worst thing in the world would be to be expelled and sent back to Sonia and Claude’s, just as I was about to join Silver.
Miss Cruet cleared her throat.
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘You may have one last chance.’ She turned to Sonia and Claude. ‘I will see you at the children’s Halloween circus show.’
‘Circus show?!?’ hissed Sonia. ‘I hardly think—’
Claude quickly nudged her. ‘Of course we’ll be there,’ he said. ‘Anything for little Claudia—haw-haw-haw!’ He took Sonia’s arm. ‘Come, pootlekins. You’ll feel much better when you’re lying quietly in a darkened room.’ And he led her out.
As they walked towards the front door, I heard Sonia’s voice: ‘And I’ve told you not to call me pootlekins…’
I raised my eyes to look at Miss Cruet. Her mouth was pursed up, but there was a kindly look in her eyes. Almost a twinkle. It quickly disappeared.
‘You are dismissed,’ she snapped. ‘But make no mistake—I shall be watching you very closely indeed from now on. One false step, and you will be very, very sorry.’
ACCUSATIONS
As soon as I got out of Miss Cruet’s study, I pelted down the stairs, out of the back door, down the path and through the wood.
As I got close to the Amphitheatre, I heard music: a circus march which made me want to cartwheel and juggle and dance. The sight that met my eyes as I reached the edge of the ring made me stop in my tracks.
Rule Boy sat on a stone seat, his metronome tick-tocking and his sheet music propped in front of him. His face was very serious under the musical notes he’d painted on it. His bow flew across the strings, his feet tapping in time with the metronome.
A low tightrope had been strung across the ring between two trees and Saddo, his face painted in a big red smile, was balancing on it, holding out his arms. Rule Boy made the music wobble, and Saddo began to wobble too, his arms and legs flailing all over the place. Then, from the other side of the ring, Feral appeared, his face painted like a lion, and began bounding around the ring. Saddo saw Feral and gave a huge, comic jump. He ran along his tightrope, faster and faster. Feral growled, chasing Saddo back and forth. I couldn’t help smiling at the expression on Saddo’s face. Mind you, if he’d known that Feral was a Shapeshifter, he’d have been really scared.
Custard strode into the ring, her blanket tied around her shoulders, her arms painted with tattoos.
‘Roll over!’ she shouted, waving a long stick, and Feral obediently stopped running and rolled on his back with his hands and feet in the air.
‘Now SPEAK!’
Feral opened his jaws and gave an ear-splitting roar. Saddo screamed and fell off his tightrope. He was so funny that I laughed out loud and clapped my hands. They all stopped what they were doing and stared at me.
Rule Boy lowered his violin. The metronome carried on tick-tocking.
‘What are you doing here?’ said Rule Boy.
I stepped forward, into the ring. ‘That was really good!’
‘No thanks to you,’ said Rule Boy.
‘I want to say sorry for what I said about your dad. And sorry I couldn’t come to the rehearsal.’
‘Don’t bother,’ said Saddo. ‘We know you don’t care about the show.’
‘I do!’ I said. ‘I really do. It’s just that I had to see my twin—’
Rule Boy bent down and switched off his metronome. ‘Oh yes,’ he said. ‘Your imaginary twin.’
‘She’s not imaginary!’ I shouted. ‘She’s real. And if I didn’t meet her at noon today in the Room of Reflection, she was going to disappear forever.’
‘She must be a fig of your imagination,’ said Custard, ‘if she d-disappears.’
‘You don’t understand!’ I said. ‘She—’
Then I realized that the others had stopped looking at me. They were staring at something behind me. Footsteps approached through the wood. I turned. It was Miss Cruet. For a terrible moment, I thought she had changed her mind and was going to expel me after all.
Ignoring me, she marched straight over to Rule Boy and pointed to his metronome and sheet music.
‘What is this?’
Rule Boy blinked. ‘It’s a metronome, miss.’
‘I know that, boy!’ Miss Cruet barked. ‘Why is it here?’
‘I need it,’ said Rule Boy, ‘to rehearse for our show.’
Miss Cruet was frowning so hard her eyebrows were almost in her eyes.
‘Rule three!’ she barked. ‘Remind me of it!’
‘One possession only,’ muttered Rule Boy.
‘And the one possession you chose to keep was…?’
‘M-my violin.’
‘Then why do you still have this?’ Miss Cruet jabbed a finger at the metronome. ‘And these?’ She pointed at the sheets of music.
Rule Boy’s face was white. ‘I can’t play without them.’
Miss Cruet held out her hand. ‘Give them to me. They are now confiscated.’
Rule Boy picked up the metronome and the pile of music. For a moment, he looked like he was going to run away with them. Then, with shaky hands, he handed them over.
Without another word, Miss Cruet turned and walked out of the Amphitheatre.
Rule Boy sank down to his knees and covered his face with his hands. Custard patted him on the back.
‘Don’t worry. You’re such a g-good violinist you don’t need the m-music.’
Rule Boy ignored her.
‘That’s right,’ I said. ‘You’re brilliant. You can—’
‘I CAN’T!!!’ Rule Boy’s glasses were steamed up. He looked at me with such hatred that I took a step backwards.
‘You just don’t get it, do you, Antsy? I MUST have a metronome, else I can’t play in time. And I MUST have music. I can’t play without it. And you—you told on me when you promised you wouldn’t!’
‘W-what?’ I gasped. ‘I did not tell on you!’
‘Liar!’ Rule Boy shouted. ‘You decided to get your own back on me because I laughed at your stupid imaginary twin. So when Miss Cruet called you to her study, you sneaked and told her I’d hidden my things in the shed.’
‘I didn’t! Miss Cruet—’
Rule Boy turned to the others. ‘Thanks to her, that’s the end of our circus show.’ He glared at me. ‘You’re a sneak and a telltale and a liar, and I HATE you!’
He picked up his violin, shoved it into its case and ran out of the Amphitheatre.
‘Come back!’ shouted Saddo, but his voice echoed emptily around the ring.
He and Custard looked at me as if they didn’t know me at all.
‘I didn’t do it,’ I said. ‘I swear.’ But I could tell from the way they were looking at me that they didn’t believe me.
‘Let’s go b-back to school,’ said Custard, and she and Saddo walked out of the Amphitheatre without another word.
Which only left Feral.
‘Go on,’ I said to him. ‘Run after your friends.’<
br />
But he stayed where he was, staring at me with his tawny eyes. The more I looked back at him, the more the Bird’s words came croaking through my mind. ‘There is only one among the freaks and the Nobodies who could be a Shapeshifter…’ Deep in my tummy, That Feeling was starting again. Mr Gold had lied to me, and Feral was a Shapeshifter, yet it was me that everyone was calling a liar.
‘You,’ said Feral. ‘Friend.’
‘I don’t want a Shapeshifter for a friend! Go away!’
Feral growled. Then he gave a massive roar—so loud that it echoed, over and over, round the empty stone seats—and he bounded out of the Amphitheatre.
Then I really was alone.
I SEARCH FOR THE TRUTH
That weekend was the loneliest I’d ever known, even worse than when I lived with Sonia and Claude. At least then I had Tree to talk to. Rule Boy looked right through me as if I didn’t exist. He’d shoved his violin under his bed and left it there. The others turned their backs whenever they saw me. And Feral growled, deep in his throat, and glared at me with narrowed, tawny eyes. At night, I lay wide awake in my bed next to Custard (who even slept with her back to me), too frightened to go to sleep in case Feral shapeshifted into a real savage lion and came to get me.
My thoughts went round and round like a dog chasing its tail. Our circus show was ruined now that Rule Boy wouldn’t play his music—and anyway, no one wanted me there. And I still didn’t know when I’d see Silver again, or which night the mirror would turn into a doorway to her school. I curled into a tight ball to stop my arms and legs from twitching and squirming.
But there were more things to worry about. The Bird’s words about Mr Gold kept croaking into my mind.
Liar…
Thief…
Coward…
He murdered his very own family…
What if the Bird was right? What if Mr Gold had lied to me with his stories about saving Kula and how he’d run into the Big Top on the night Murgatroyd set the fire? Was he a coward? Did he leave his family to die? I didn’t want to believe it. I wouldn’t believe it. But Mr Gold had shut up in the middle of telling me about the fire in the Big Top, and then refused to answer my questions, so he must have something to hide. And the Bird had sworn on Silver’s life that Mr Gold had run away.