The Curse in the Candlelight

by Sophie Cleverly

  Whether or not Ebony had a broomstick, I was certain she knew all about the stories and traditions. She had been the one to suggest this party to Mrs Knight. She was in control. She must have something planned.

  And that scared me more than anything.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  SCARLET

  hen All Hallows’ Eve finally arrived, it was on an unusually warm day. Mrs Knight called an assembly that morning and told us all what “jolly good fun” the party was going to be as we sat fanning ourselves in the previously freezing hall.

  I could barely sit still. A real party! With costumes! It was really going to liven up Rookwood.

  Everything is good, I thought to myself. I have Ivy and Ariadne. There’s going to be a party. We’re going to have lots of fun. And as long as we stay out of trouble, it’ll all be back to normal.

  I just tried not to look at Ebony and Muriel.

  Mrs Knight, who was clearly over the moon about her new attempts to make Rookwood a Jolly Place of Learning that lots of parents would want to send their children to, then announced that there would be a whole-school photograph that morning instead of our first lesson.

  We all trooped outside, where numerous benches had been placed on the fallen leaves. We had to line up, from youngest to oldest, and then get organised into our houses. There was a photographer, who had a well-groomed beard and a camera on a stand. He kept playing with its settings, reminding me of Ariadne’s camera, which she had loved, but been told to leave at home after last year.

  I realised quite quickly that this was not a good time to be unable to keep still. I kept fidgeting. It didn’t help that as we were standing there, a chilly breeze began to blow against us.

  “Everyone hold your positions!” Miss Bowler yelled. There were first formers crying and sixth formers braiding each other’s hair. “Stop messing around and smile!”

  “On three,” the photographer called loudly. “One, two—”

  “Three!” lots of people shouted, before collapsing into laughter.

  Mrs Knight sighed so loudly that I could hear it from three rows back. “And again, please …”

  When the photographer had finally managed to get a shot, we were shepherded back into school. I wondered what the photograph would look like. Perhaps we would resemble our mother and Aunt Sara in the old school picture Miss Jones had shown us.

  “That’s better!” Mrs Knight had called out with a smile. “One for the school newsletter!”

  I fidgeted all through our lessons. When we got back to our room, I ran straight to the wardrobe and began putting on my black ballet outfit. Ivy, who was not in quite such a hurry, found the masks that we’d made and fitted them with string. I safety-pinned my tail to the back of my skirt. Perfect.

  “Ready?” I asked Ivy with a grin.

  She pulled her mask down over her face. “As I’ll ever be …”

  We headed downstairs, alongside a crowd of witches, clowns, ghosts and a whole menagerie of different animals. It certainly made a change from the usual sea of uniforms. Everyone was chatting excitedly, the sound of it buzzing around our heads. I peered out at it all through the gaps in my mask.

  Rookwood’s huge front doors were wide open, letting in the evening air. It was pleasant, but still had that chill to it. Someone had lit a selection of torches, which were leading the way out to the playing field.

  I couldn’t help but gasp when I caught sight of the field. What was usually a boring patch of flat grass had been transformed. It was filled with candles and little stands, and towering over it all in the rough at the back was a huge bonfire waiting to be lit. Girls in costumes and masks were milling about everywhere, along with some taller figures who I thought must be teachers and some parents.

  Ivy let out a gasp too, but hers sounded a bit less excited and more … afraid.

  I lifted up my mask a little. “What is it?” I hissed in her ear.

  “The candles … It’s just like my dream,” she whispered back, sounding dazed.

  I tried not to do a double-take as a skeleton wandered past. I’d never seen so many costumes in one place.

  “Come on,” I said, grabbing my twin’s hand. Whatever this party held in store, I wanted to experience it. I wanted to take it all in.

  “Roll up, roll up!” I heard someone shout as we walked on to the field. It was Mrs Knight, who appeared to be dressed as an owl, complete with feathers all down her arms and a beak strapped to her face. She was standing over what looked like a large cauldron, full of water and apples. “Try the apple-bobbing!”

  We watched in amusement as Anna Santos, who was wearing rabbit ears, attempted to pick up an apple with her teeth. She emerged with a soaking-wet face and one of the ears pointing in the wrong direction, but she had actually managed to pick up the apple.

  Everyone applauded. Anna finally seemed to have found something she was good at.

  I tugged Ivy along again. “This doesn’t seem so bad, does it? It’s just good fun. Not scary at all.”

  “I don’t know,” Ivy said quietly to me. “I feel like Ebony is behind this somewhere … I feel as though she’s just waiting to trick us again. This whole thing feels like her.”

  I looked around, but if Ebony was present, there was no way to tell. Most people were disguised or had their faces covered entirely, and it was getting dark.

  We neared a row of rough benches, where I caught sight of a lion that I recognised as Ariadne. She waved us over.

  “Look!” she said. “We’re carving turnips!”

  She dropped a turnip into my hands, which was not something I ever expected to happen. “Carving them how?”

  Another feather-covered shape leant over us, with a blue-painted face and a knife. “We’re making lanterns!”

  I adjusted my mask and saw that it was Miss Pepper. “What are you, Miss?” I asked, a little shocked.

  She stepped back into the light. “Why, I’m a peacock, of course!” She turned round and I saw she had a fan of peacock feathers behind her. It didn’t seem particularly scary, but it did look pretty. “Be very careful with the carving knives, girls. But you hollow out the turnip, cut a little face and then you add a candle and hey presto!” She waved a knife at us and we all jumped. “A lantern! Isn’t it fun? These are traditional in Scotland, you know.”

  I felt certain that Ivy was wincing behind her mask. Ebony’s stamp was definitely here.

  Miss Pepper gave me the knife (handle first, thankfully). “Give it a go,” she said, before walking jauntily away.

  I shrugged, picked up a turnip and started to do as she had said. Cutting through it was a much tougher task than it looked.

  There were several other girls carving turnips round the table, and some parents. I wondered briefly if Father might make an appearance, but it seemed very unlikely. I prayed that our stepmother wouldn’t be interested. But she wouldn’t need a costume if she did turn up. She was enough of a monster on her own.

  “Is your father coming, Ariadne?” I asked.

  “No,” Ariadne said with a sigh. “I wrote to him, but he said he thought it sounded dangerous and that he would rather I went to a Teddy Bears’ Picnic.”

  I laughed, and with some help from Ivy, carried on stabbing the unfortunate turnip.

  “And besides,” she continued, “he’s not happy with me. The school told him that I’ve been getting into trouble.”

  “Was he really cross?” I asked, thinking of our stepmother.

  “Not really. That was the worst part,” Ariadne winced. “He just sounded so disappointed.”

  We carried on carving. Eventually we had something that looked roughly like a face. We put a little tealight inside and it lit up with a fiendish orange glow. I hoped I wouldn’t smell like turnips for the next few weeks.

  Pleased, I put the finished product down next to Ariadne’s.

  “What are you supposed to do with it?” Ivy asked.

  “It wards off evil spirits, I think,” Ariadn
e said.

  “Oh, good,” I said. That was probably something we could do with.

  We went for a wander around the field, looking at some of the other tables where girls were crafting masks and throwing balls at coconuts. There were straw bales scattered around with hordes of girls in various costumes sitting on them, chatting and laughing. I spotted Agatha (who I still refused to call Clarissa) in a tall hat, helping to make toffee apples and hand them out, but there was still no sign of Ebony. It was making me feel a little on edge. I preferred to know where she was, so I could keep an eye on her.

  We ran into Rose, who was not really wearing a costume, but appeared to have made herself a crown out of roses. She smiled before looking a little confused as she gazed back and forth between us. I realised she couldn’t tell who we were under the masks. I lifted mine again and stuck my tongue out at her, and she laughed.

  “Scarlet,” she said simply, prodding me in the arm and then heading off, happily chewing on a toffee apple.

  I grinned. I hoped Rose would be all right on her own.

  “Girls!” Miss Bowler’s voice suddenly boomed over the field. You could tell it was her instantly – nobody else was as loud as a foghorn. I turned and located her standing on a box. She appeared to be kitted out as some sort of sea creature, dressed in paper seaweed. It was quite a sight. I had to giggle, wondering if she had got the idea from having seen Ariadne dress us up last year.

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” she continued, addressing the parents as well. “Make your way to the back of the field for … the lighting of the bonfire!”

  “Ooh!” Ariadne bounced up and down with excitement. “I love a good bonfire. It’s like Guy Fawkes Night come early!”

  We bustled over there at the same time as everyone else did. It was crowded, but the three of us managed to shuffle to the front. Up close, the bonfire was vast, like a miniature mountain.

  Madame Zelda stood beside the fire, and she looked incredible. Her silver hair was backcombed to the point that it looked as though she’d been given an electric shock. She was wearing a black dress and when she moved her arms, the sleeves draped out behind her like wings – but they were covered in silver cobwebs.

  The caretaker stood beside her, holding a can of petrol. The chemical scent lingered in the air. He must have doused the pile of wood with it thoroughly.

  “Ready, Miss?” I saw him say.

  Madame Zelda nodded and then turned to the crowd, obviously determined to put on a show. “Welcome, all,” she said with a flash of white teeth. “Let the bonfire be lit!”

  She pulled out one of the matches she used for her incense, struck it and then stood well back before throwing it on the pile.

  The wood must have been dry because the flames climbed quickly. Everyone shuffled back, away from the heat. There were lots of oohs and aahs.

  We stood and stared into the dancing flames, and soon people were moving away again (or dancing away in the case of Madame Zelda), heading back to the stalls and the fun.

  And that was when I saw her.

  On the far side of the bonfire, in the flickering shadows, there was a girl dressed as a witch. A black pointy hat, a black flowing cloak that shrouded her whole body, and long black hair to match. A mask hid her face completely from view.

  My heart squeezed. Ebony.

  But what was she doing behind the bonfire? Alone?

  The witch stepped closer and silently held up a piece of paper. I lifted my mask and squinted, trying to make out what it was.

  And then I realised with horror … It was a photograph.

  Of Ariadne.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  IVY

  think Ariadne and I noticed what was going on shortly after Scarlet did. I remember feeling my twin stiffen beside me, seeing her lift her mask. I followed her gaze.

  And I saw the witch.

  Ariadne let out a horrified gasp and I soon realised why. The witch was holding out a photograph of her. I recognised it, even from a distance, as the picture of Ariadne that had been used in the school newsletter to show that she was the photographer on our trip to Lake Seren.

  At this point, almost everyone else had moved away from the bonfire, back to the activities. The few stragglers left behind were looking into the fire and didn’t seem to have noticed the witch in the shadows beyond.

  Ariadne had gone white beneath her lion mask. “What …” I heard her say. “Who’s there?”

  The fire spat smouldering embers, and a column of smoke rose out of it, waving towards us. I suddenly felt too afraid to move.

  But Scarlet started shaking with anger. “Ebony!” she shouted over the crackling flames. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  The mask on the witch’s face remained expressionless. The eyes were dark slits and they gave away nothing.

  And then, with a flourish, she dropped the picture into the flames.

  The bright orange fire licked at the photograph for only seconds before it crumpled away, falling into ash.

  Ariadne lifted her mask. There were tears in her eyes. “Stop!” she called out.

  But the witch just took a bow and then quickly slipped into the shadows.

  Ariadne turned to us. “W-what was that about?” she stammered. “A threat? A curse?”

  I grabbed Scarlet’s arm. I could feel her shaking beneath my grip, see her clenched fists. I knew my twin, and she was about to run over there and do something we would all regret.

  But before I could say anything, Mrs Knight appeared beside us, her owl-cape swooshing. “Everything all right here, girls? Staying out of trouble?” She smiled beneath the paper beak.

  Scarlet froze and I could hear her heavy breathing. We all looked at Mrs Knight.

  I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t say anything. We were on our very last warning and if we got involved in Ebony’s dark dealings, well … things would not go well for us.

  “Everything’s fine, Miss,” I said. Scarlet nodded.

  As the words came out of my mouth, my glance slipped over to Ariadne, and I could see that she was crying now. But I could see the fire reflecting in her eyes. She stepped forward.

  “Actually, Miss, it’s not fine at all!” she cried. “Someone just burned a picture of me on the bonfire!”

  Mrs Knight frowned, turned and looked round us. “Who?”

  “Someone dressed as a witch,” Ariadne gasped. “Over there.” She pointed behind the bonfire. “I’m sure it was Ebony McCloud.”

  Mrs Knight then turned her neck quickly and darted her eyes across the field, which really added to the owl impression. She’s looking for Ebony’s father, I realised. My guess was solidified when the headmistress said, “You must be mistaken, dear. Ebony’s a nice girl. I think you might be seeing things. The twins didn’t see anything, after all.”

  I bit my lip. Scarlet stared at the floor. We should have corrected the headmistress. We should have told her that we’d seen it too.

  Mrs Knight put a gentle hand on Ariadne’s shoulder. “There, there, dear. I wouldn’t worry about it. Perhaps you’ve just had a few too many toffee apples. Why don’t you go and have a sit-down somewhere?” With a smile, she wandered off into the crowds.

  I couldn’t bear the look on Ariadne’s face. “Ariadne, I—”

  “Don’t,” she said, wiping away a tear.

  “Sorry!” Scarlet said. “We couldn’t say anything. You know we’re at risk of being expelled. I’d go and give Ebony a good thumping, I would, but we’d be in so much trouble.”

  For a moment I thought Ariadne was going to back down … that she would say it was all fine. But that fire was still in her eyes, as if she were possessed. “You could have said something. You could at least have told Mrs Knight that I was telling the truth.”

  Scarlet shrugged. “She probably wouldn’t have believed us anyway.”

  Now Ariadne stepped closer to Scarlet, who was taken aback, stumbling towards the bonfire. “How could you? I thought we were best friends!
”

  I tried to take her hand, but she shook me off. “Of course we are—” I started.

  “But you won’t protect me if it means you two might get into trouble, right?” Ariadne cried.

  Scarlet folded her arms, ever indignant. “That isn’t what’s happening,” she insisted.

  Our friend stared at us both, looking back and forth, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. I felt a rush of shame turning my cheeks red beneath my mask. Suddenly it felt like my tongue was swollen – I couldn’t make the right words leave my mouth.

  The tears fell even harder from Ariadne’s eyes, glinting in the firelight.

  “Maybe I’m not your best friend any more,” she sobbed. And then she was running across the field, leaving Scarlet and me all alone.

  We collapsed on to a straw bale a little way from the fire. For a while we didn’t speak. And then the words finally came.

  “This is awful,” I said. My chest felt tight and there was a horrible sick feeling in my throat. What had we done?

  My twin put her head in her hands. “We’ve really ruined everything this time.”

  “Perhaps we should just go and tell Mrs Knight right now,” I said. “Tell her that we saw it too.”

  “No!” Scarlet looked at me as if I’d suggested we throw ourselves on the bonfire. “We can’t! It could get us into big trouble for lying. And what if she didn’t believe us? What would she do about it even if she did? She’s been brainwashed into thinking Ebony’s some sort of …” She scrunched up her face. “Little Miss Perfect.”

  I didn’t know what we could do. “Then perhaps we have to leave it. Just carry on with the party and try to sort everything out tomorrow.” I realised that our friendship with Ariadne was becoming one long string of apologies and it made me feel even more awful. Tendrils of smoke from the fire curled around my feet before rushing upwards, making us cough.

  Scarlet pulled a fistful of straw from the bale. “Ugh,” she sighed in frustration. “Something just isn’t right. Was that really some kind of curse? Or is Ebony just threatening her? If Ariadne gets hurt, we’ll never forgive ourselves. We need to stop Ebony right now!”