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.
Ebony looked around the room slowly, her eyes falling on each of us in turn, holding our gaze for just a little too long.
“You!” she said suddenly, pointing a long, white finger at Muriel Witherspoon.
Muriel pointed at herself. “Me? What do you want with me?”
“I want you to come up to the front,” said Ebony in a singsong voice.
Muriel sat back and folded her arms. “Why should I get involved with this, exactly?”
There was a hush, broken only by Madame Lovelace, who occasionally snorted in her sleep.
Ebony was staring at Muriel, giving nothing away. “We wouldn’t want you to have another accident, now, would we?”
Muriel’s face paled. She seemed to be trying to hide the fact that Ebony scared her, but she was no longer doing a very good job of it. She stood up slowly and then rolled her eyes, bringing down the curtain of false bravado again. “Right,” she said. “If you insist.”
She approached the desk and Ebony waved her hands over it. And then suddenly, as if from nowhere, a deck of cards appeared in her palm.
Muriel blinked down at it. “I … what?”
Ebony held up the deck in her long, thin fingers and displayed it to all of us. The back of each card was black, with an intricate pattern etched into it. Then she flipped it to show us the front, and I saw that each suit was decorated with skulls, and the Kings and Queens and Jacks were all skeletons. How cheerful.
“Pick a card,” Ebony ordered.
Muriel reached down gingerly, as if she thought the cards might singe her fingers. The look on Ebony’s face was expectant, almost hungry.
Muriel’s hand came to rest on one of the cards. She didn’t meet Ebony’s eye.
“Show the class,” said Ebony, with a flicker of her eyelashes.
Muriel slipped the card from the pack and then held it out to all of us, so that only we could see. The three of Hearts. I shared a look with Scarlet. What was this about?
“Now, return the card.” Ebony watched as Muriel turned the card face down and put it back.
In the corner, Madame Lovelace snorted in her sleep and a cloud of chalk dust floated up from her dress.
A slow smile crept across Ebony’s face. She shuffled the cards, her hands moving in a blur. “Open your palms,” she instructed.
“I really don’t see why—” Muriel started, but faltered under Ebony’s gaze. She sighed and did as she was told.
The entire class seemed to be holding their breath. Everyone had leant forward in their seats. I expected Scarlet to tell them to sit down and shut up, but even she appeared to be fascinated.
With a strange grace, Ebony started moving her hands over the deck of cards, her fingers curling. She kept doing it, over and over, in a circular motion.
“Nothing’s happening,” someone whispered, but everyone shushed her. Because just then, the cards began to move – at a snail’s pace, but moving nonetheless. The deck began to slice in two, the two halves shifting apart, leaving a card in the middle.
And then … the card shot out of the deck.
Everyone gasped. I blinked. Had that really just happened?
Muriel was clutching her arm. “Ow!” she said. “You cut me!” She pulled her hand away and there was indeed a small flash of blood on her skin – a paper cut.
Ebony just laughed, and her laugh was like a misty mountain stream. “Never mind that,” she said. “Pick up the card. Show them.”
Scowling, Muriel bent down and picked up the card from the floor. I watched as she cautiously turned it over and then picked it up. She held it out to the class.
The
