Night School: Legacy

by C. J. Daugherty

  Carter gave a low whistle. ‘Accelerated module? They never do that. Are you sure?’

  Allie nodded so vigorously her hair bounced.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ he said, mostly to himself.

  ‘What does it mean?’ she asked.

  ‘She didn’t tell you?’

  When she shook her head, he exhaled loudly.

  ‘It just means you’ll skip the early stuff that we all spend the first term doing, and you’ll train with the most senior people.’ He studied her with curious eyes, as if he was trying to figure her out. ‘You’ll go straight in at the deep end.’

  Something in his tone made Allie nervous, and she was glad when he changed the subject. ‘So, what exactly did Rachel say that pissed you off?’

  Pulling her hand free, she twisted the hem of her shirt tightly around her finger, frowning with thought. ‘She acted like it was this evil thing, and like she thought I was stupid for joining. She was really angry.’ She added worriedly, ‘Rachel never gets angry.’

  He didn’t seem very surprised. ‘You know she doesn’t approve of Night School, right?’ he said. ‘I mean, she’s told you that. Everyone knows she’s been asked to join several times and turned it down. And, I mean, nobody turns Night School down. It’s a big thing between her and her dad.’

  Allie’s head shot up. ‘What … really? She never told me that. She just said her dad wanted her to do it and she didn’t want to.’

  ‘Yeah well …’ Carter said. ‘She really hates it.’

  ‘But why?’ Allie asked. ‘Why does she hate it so much?’

  ‘Rachel’s a genius, you know that. She’s got political objections to it, which are totally reasonable. Night School isn’t fair. Never has been. It makes things easier for rich kids – like they need things to be easier for them.’ He stretched out his legs. ‘But I think there’s more to it than that. Something to do with her dad. You should ask her.’

  Worry twisted Allie’s stomach. ‘I hope she’s not too mad at me. I didn’t mean to be thoughtless. I just … wasn’t thinking.’

  Carter barked a laugh then grew serious again. ‘Al …’

  His tone was so hesitant she looked up at him with concern.

  ‘I’m glad you’ll learn to defend yourself, and obviously that’s a good thing, but I have concerns, too. You know I don’t trust the people running Night School – we’ve talked and talked about it.’ When she opened her mouth to object, he rested his finger lightly on her lips. ‘I know I’m in it and I’m a total hypocrite, but I had my own reasons for joining. But that doesn’t mean I want you to get caught up in it, too. It kind of scares me that you’re going to be right in the middle of it now.’

  ‘Here’s the thing.’ She pulled his hand away from her mouth and held it against her cheek for a second before dropping it. Then, sitting straight, she filled him in on what her mother and Isabelle had told her. When she’d told him everything she finished by saying, ‘I think I’ve been in Night School my whole life. I just didn’t know it until now. And now maybe it can help me … I don’t know … stay safe. Stay alive.’

  For a long moment Carter looked away, lost in thought. Then he turned his dark eyes back to her.

  ‘OK.’

  ‘OK what?’ she said cautiously.

  ‘OK Night School.’ His jaw was set in a grim line. ‘You need to learn to defend yourself. So, welcome to Night School. I hope you don’t like it too much.’

  SIX

  Somewhere in the dark distance she could hear voices calling her name. But she was running fast – as fast as she could.

  Soon the voices faded into silence.

  The night was clear – a full moon turned the forest into shades of blue as she hurtled down the footpath.

  She didn’t know where she was going or why she was running, but she knew she couldn’t stop. Her breathing was ragged – her lungs burned. Still she ran.

  Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw something move through the trees.

  It seemed to flit, like a bird, but she knew it wasn’t a bird. She stopped, effortlessly.

  ‘Who’s there?’ she called into the darkness then gasped when she saw someone move again. Just slow enough to be seen. Just fast enough not to be recognised.

  ‘This isn’t funny,’ she called out. She’d begun to tremble. Something wasn’t right. It wasn’t right at all. Where was she going anyway? And why was she outside so late at night?

  Suddenly, from behind her, a low, threatening growl.

  With a muffled scream Allie sat bolt upright in bed. Clutching the covers to her neck, she looked around the dark room in panic. At first she was disoriented. The room wasn’t familiar. Nothing was where it should be.

  Then she remembered.

  ‘Cimmeria,’ she murmured, lying down again. ‘I’m at Cimmeria.’ She closed her eyes. ‘I’m safe.’

  After rushing through breakfast the next morning, Allie made an excuse to Jo and headed to the library in search of Rachel. She had to make up with her. Fighting with Rachel was absolutely not on the agenda for the first week back at school.

  Just inside the library door, painters were setting up a metal forest of ladders with a clamour. Big cans of paint and fluffy pale blue rollers leaned about like fallen trees; the air already had the acrid petrol smell of white spirits.

  Hurrying past them, she made her way down the long room. A wide metal table had been set up along the back wall where Eloise and Rachel were filling cardboard boxes with books. Each layer of books was separated by sheets of crisp tissue paper, and they nestled the heavy old leather tomes in as if they were fragile pieces of crystal.

  Pushing her glasses back up her nose, Eloise looked at her enquiringly.

  ‘Can I talk to Rachel for a minute?’ Allie asked.

  Eloise glanced back and forth between them; Rachel avoided Allie’s eyes. With a sympathetic look, the librarian slid a box across the table.

  ‘Why don’t you two take this out to the truck together? It’s too heavy for one person alone.’

  With Allie holding one end of the box and Rachel the other, they manoeuvred through the bookcases to the back door. Outside, a white van waited, its back doors open. The driver stood a few feet away talking into a mobile phone. He paid no attention to them.

  The damp morning air left a sheen of moisture on Allie’s skin, like oil on water. It was quiet and grey, the only sound the crunching of their feet on the gravel drive and the driver’s noncommittal, monotone voice as they slid the box on top of another just like it in the back of the van.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Allie said suddenly. ‘I didn’t think about how you might feel about … anything. I was just being selfish and …’

  Relief filled Rachel’s eyes and her words flooded out in a rush. ‘Me too. You have to do what’s right for you. I can’t expect you to be me.’

  ‘It’s just …’ Allie drew a line in the grey gravel with her toe. ‘I really have to do this, Rach. Not because I believe in what it all stands for, but because of what I’ll learn. I’ll be able to protect myself. I’ll find out more about my family if I’m on the inside. They won’t be able to hide things from me any more. Maybe I’ll find out what happened to Christopher, because I think they know and they’re not telling me. Can you see my side of this?’

  ‘I can.’

  But Allie could hear the reluctance in Rachel’s tone.

  ‘I just wish there was another way … for your sake. Because I think you’ll get more than you bargained for once you’re inside, Allie.’

  Out of the corner of her eye Allie checked on the driver. He was still talking on his phone.

  Seeing her glance, Rachel tilted her head towards the door. As they headed back inside she changed the subject. ‘Are you working with Jo again today?’

  ‘Painting.’ Allie nodded. ‘Because I’m serious about my art.’

  Rachel snorted, but her expression was serious. ‘How is she, do you think?’

  Allie thought about Jo
laughing and scrubbing walls yesterday. ‘Better than I expected. She’s sort of … fine, I guess.’

  ‘A little too fine, maybe?’ As soon as Rachel said the words, Allie realised she was right.

  ‘Do you think she’s faking it?’ Allie whispered. ‘I mean, Isabelle’s making her see a shrink and everything.’

  Rachel didn’t seem reassured. ‘I don’t want this to sound mean, but Jo’s a master at manipulation and deception – anybody who grew up the way she did would be. And she’s just had this huge awful thing happen in her life yet she’s still normal, bubbly Jo.’ She shrugged. ‘Something doesn’t seem right. She could have one of her meltdowns. So, just … keep an eye on her.’

  Allie nodded. ‘I will.’

  ‘And be careful with all this,’ Rachel gesturing vaguely, ‘stuff you’re getting involved with. Watch your back.’

  ‘It’s not like I’ll be alone,’ Allie pointed out. ‘I’ll have your dad to look out for me.’

  She didn’t like the look Rachel gave her.

  ‘Just because he likes you, don’t think he’ll treat you any differently from anyone else. He’s tougher than you think.’

  ‘I’m ready,’ Allie promised, wondering if she was.

  ‘Welcome to Cimmeria Academy. All new students please line up on the left. Returning students on the right.’

  Isabelle stood on a small white platform at the far end of the great hall. She wasn’t shouting, but her powerful voice somehow soared above the din of two hundred chattering students. It was the first day of the autumn term, and Allie and Rachel stood in the queue on the right wearing identical crisp, white, long-sleeved shirts with dark blue crests, tucked into short, dark blue pleated skirts.

  ‘God, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it’s good to be back in this stupid uniform,’ Allie said, straightening the hem of her skirt.

  ‘I hear you.’ Rachel wrinkled her nose. ‘And yet I disagree.’

  The two studied the new students in the queue across from them.

  ‘They all look so young and nervous,’ Allie said. ‘Did I look like that when I started?’

  ‘Of course not.’ Rachel flipped her long, curly ponytail over one shoulder and quickly changed the subject. ‘The place looks incredible, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Totally.’ Allie followed her gaze up the walls, panelled with oak, and out into the hallway, where the polished wood floors shone and the chandeliers sparkled without a speck of dust. ‘I can’t believe we did it. All that work …’ She flexed her fingers and admired her healing blisters. ‘There’s still loads to do but at least the main stuff is finished.’

  ‘And can I just say, TFFT,’ Rachel replied. ‘I’ve had enough book sorting and stacking, painting and sweeping to last a lifetime.’

  The last ten days had been intense and non-stop. Walls had been scrubbed and painted, heavy Oriental rugs taken away to be cleaned then returned, floors polished, and furniture moved in and out of rooms endlessly. Each day involved a haze of work that had left her too tired at the end for anything except tumbling into bed. Many rooms were still being worked on, but enough of the building had been restored to allow the term to start on time.

  ‘Allie.’

  She turned around to see a girl studying her expressionlessly as the sunlight highlighted her long red hair and illuminated her milky white skin.

  ‘Oh,’ Allie put her hands in her pockets and tried to look casual. ‘Hi, Katie.’

  Katie seemed uncomfortable – she fidgeted with the hem of a dark blue jumper that Allie was certain must have been tailored to fit her so annoyingly perfectly. ‘Can I talk to you for a minute?’

  Allie and Rachel exchanged an intrigued look. ‘I’ll hold your place.’ Rachel nudged her.

  Allie followed Katie to a quiet corner.

  ‘You know what happened last term, with you saving everybody and everything?’ Katie said.

  Thinking of a thousand sarcastic responses, Allie nodded and kept her face blank.

  ‘And we worked together and it was all good?’

  Another nod, this one suspicious.

  ‘Well, it was important, and I’m really glad we did it, but I don’t think we should be friends, OK? I mean … despite that stuff. It was great, and you weren’t as big a moron as you usually are but I can’t really hang out with you. I don’t really like you, to be completely honest. Well, most of the time, anyway. So what I wanted to say was, please don’t expect us to be best mates or anything.’

  Speechless, Allie tried to decide how to respond. An unwelcome thought crossed her mind that it seemed wrong that someone could be so pretty and so … awful.

  A long uncomfortable silence passed. Then finally, shaking her head, Allie turned and walked away. ‘Whatever.’

  When she returned to her place in the queue, Rachel’s eyebrows shot skyward, but Allie shook her head in disgust.

  ‘Anyway,’ Rachel said, ‘where were we?’

  ‘I think we were talking about what amazing workers we are,’ Allie said, but then the absurdity of her conversation with Katie overwhelmed her and she burst into a sudden bout of uncontrollable giggles.

  Rachel looked puzzled but soon was laughing along with her. ‘I don’t know why I’m laughing exactly but I have a pretty good idea.’

  ‘She’s just,’ Allie gasped, crying with laughter, ‘such a bitch.’

  That sent them off again. They were still giggling as they walked up to the registration table a minute later, but Allie’s smile faded when she saw Zelazny sitting rifle straight, flipping through papers on the table in front of her.

  ‘Sheridan. Patel,’ he barked, glowering at them. ‘Keep it down. Patel, here’s your course schedule and reading list.’

  ‘Thanks, Mr Zelazny.’ As she took the papers from him, Rachel’s tone was just a little too polite to be believable.

  ‘Sheridan,’ he snapped before Rachel had finished thanking him. ‘Your schedule.’ Allie started to thank him but he fixed her with an icy glare. He continued, ‘You have been assigned extra-curricular classes this term. You are expected at twenty-one hundred hours tonight. The location is on your sheet. Tardiness is not acceptable.’

  Glancing at the paper, Allie saw the words ‘Training Room One’ scrawled across the top. A cold finger of fear brushed her spine. She wasn’t taking PE, and she’d signed up for no extra activities. There was only one reason they would want her in a training room.

  It’s all starting, she thought. It’s really going to happen.

  Just after noon, Allie raced into the dining hall, stopping suddenly as a wall of noise hit her. The room was packed. The tables were all evenly spaced, filling it from one end to the other. Each surrounded by eight heavily carved chairs. The noise made by the mass of exuberant students was daunting.

  Jo was waving at her enthusiastically from a table near the massive stone fireplace.

  ‘Over here!’

  Allie made her way across the room to the table where Jo sat ignoring the students around her, none of whom Allie recognised.

  She patted the empty seat next to her. ‘I saved you a place so you wouldn’t starve. It’s mad in here.’

  Feeling a bit stunned, Allie swung her arm to take in the room.

  ‘Where did they all come from?’

  Jo laughed. ‘I know! How different is this from summer term? The place is packed. The cheeky buggers even took our table.’ She pointed at the spot in the middle of the room where they usually sat, now occupied by fresh-faced fourteen-year-olds eating in awkward silence. ‘I didn’t have the heart to move them.’ Jo’s smile was beatific. ‘They’re just babies. I’ll get Lucas to break the news to them later. Gently.’

  ‘You mean you’ll have Lucas threaten them,’ Allie said, sliding into her chair.

  ‘Of course.’

  Mindful of Rachel’s belief that Jo was faking normality, Allie had been watching her closely for days, but she seemed completely herself – bubbly, chatty, silly – just as she always was.


  Maybe Rachel’s overreacting.

  Jo dipped her spoon into a china bowl filled with soup of an oddly deep red colour. ‘As long as they’re out of there by tomorrow they get to live. How’s it going with you anyway?’

  ‘What is that? Tomato?’ Allie was still trying to figure out Jo’s soup.

  ‘Yes, but I think it has beetroot in it.’ Jo wrinkled her pert nose. ‘It’s the colour of carnage. And it tastes of dirt. Or maybe poison.’

  Cimmeria’s kitchen staff were usually good but sometimes their experiments didn’t work out. Nonetheless, after taking half a sandwich off the tray in the middle of the table curiosity won out and Allie ladled some of the soup into a bowl. Dipping a spoon in it, she sniffed its contents suspiciously before taking a careful sip.

  ‘I don’t think it’s poisoned,’ she said.

  ‘Oh good. Still,’ Jo nibbled her sandwich, ‘I’m not taking any chances. Hey, what’s your course schedule like? Are you in my classes?’ She held her hand out, palm up. ‘Hand it over.’

  Allie shoved the last quarter of the sandwich into her mouth and dug around her bag until she found the white slip of paper.

  ‘Here,’ she mumbled through her food.

  ‘You’re such a lady,’ Jo said, then she squealed with excitement. ‘We’re in three classes together this term! History, biology and French. This is awesome.’ She blinked at Allie over the top of the paper. ‘I wonder if I could convince Isabelle to move us together for everything. I could promise to be good. For the first time ever.’

  ‘You’d get sick of me,’ Allie said. ‘I snore.’

  ‘That is so not a surprise.’ Jo handed her schedule back.

  ‘Hang on,’ Allie said looking up from her soup, ‘how can we have French together? I thought you were in advanced French?’

  Jo leaned over to pick up her bag. ‘I think you’ll find that you, too, are in advanced French, ma petite chou.’