Night School: Legacy

by C. J. Daugherty

  Allie perched on the edge of the chair, watching as Isabelle walked across the room to the windows.

  ‘Tell me again. In which window did you see the face?’ Isabelle asked.

  ‘That one.’ Allie pointed. ‘Third from the left.’

  ‘This one?’ Isabelle stood in front of the window and Allie nodded.

  ‘And where in the window?’

  ‘Lower left hand corner,’ Allie said.

  Isabelle studied the glass, lightly touching it in one spot with her fingertips before turning back.

  ‘Now. What was Gabe doing when you saw him?’

  Allie’s heart leapt. ‘You believe me?’

  ‘There’s a clear mark on the other side of glass. He got too close – he pressed his nose against the pane.’ Isabelle sat down in a chair near her. ‘What was he doing?’

  ‘He was just … watching us.’ Closing her eyes, she visualised his face, his eyes fierce with concentration. ‘Me and Carter and Jo.’ Her eyes flew open. ‘Isabelle, how could this happen? How could he get through security to get so close?’

  The headmistress pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and finger as if she were fighting off a headache. ‘Somebody on the inside is working with Nathaniel. Somebody with … access.’

  Allie’s mind flashed back to what Mr Patel had said in Night School. He believed some students had supported Gabe, maybe even stayed in touch with him after Ruth’s murder. But he hadn’t suggested anyone else might be involved. Or that they were still helping Nathaniel.

  The investigation we’re doing in Night School, she realised with sudden horrible clarity. It’s real.

  Her throat went dry. ‘A teacher?’

  Isabelle met her gaze. ‘Perhaps. Or an advanced Night School student. Someone close to me. Someone I trust.’ She let Allie process this information for a moment before continuing. ‘I think Nathaniel is using Gabe to scare you and Jo. He knows it will upset you to see him, more than anyone else he could send. It would all make a kind of horrible sense. Tell me, how did Gabe look?’

  Allie looked at her blankly. ‘I don’t …’

  ‘I mean, what was his expression? Did he look different than you remember? What was he wearing? Could you see his hands? Was he holding anything?’ She paused before adding, ‘Anything you can remember could help.’

  Closing her eyes again, Allie described what she recalled.

  ‘I couldn’t see his hands. His hair was shorter and neater than it used to be. He looked … older. He wore a suit.’ As she realised what she’d said, her eyes flew open.

  ‘He wore a suit and tie,’ she repeated, ‘like the man in the woods. And the guys at my house.’

  When Allie left Isabelle in the dining hall, she didn’t know where to go. She had a huge stack of homework but it all seemed so meaningless all of a sudden. Her first instinct was to look for Carter, but he was still angry with her and she didn’t want to fight. She knew Jo would be freaked out, and Rachel would want to know everything that had happened. But she didn’t know how much she was allowed to say to either of them. And the truth wouldn’t make Jo feel any better.

  For a while, she just walked, with no particular destination in mind. The common room was packed with students chatting and playing games, but she didn’t feel like playing.

  The next obvious place to go was the library. She stood for a long moment with her hand on the door. The others were probably in there. And they’d want to quiz her about everything that had happened.

  She could tell Carter and Lucas everything – they were in Night School. But the others …

  Whirling, she ran down the hallway, and then dashed up the grand staircase. It was crowded with clusters of chatting, slow-moving students, and she darted between them. She was halfway up when she saw Sylvain coming down the other way. The surge of relief she felt upon seeing him took her by surprise. Sylvain knew everything – she didn’t have to keep secrets from him. And he believed her.

  When he saw her hurrying to reach him, he quickened his step and they met in the middle of the staircase.

  Her words tumbled over each other in a rush. ‘I heard you … talking to Isabelle I mean. Gabe was there. He really was. Thank you. For believing me, I mean. I don’t know if anyone else did.’

  She was sure she sounded mental, but he didn’t look as if he thought so. He looked serious and concerned.

  ‘I merely told her the truth.’ Like jewels, his cobalt eyes refracted the light from a nearby window. ‘It seemed obvious to me that …’ A younger student passed them on the stairs; Sylvain lowered his voice. ‘Look, where are you headed? Perhaps we should get off this staircase.’

  Together they climbed to the sweeping first-floor landing. Once there, he stepped out of the stream of traffic into the relative privacy of a window nook. After a split second of hesitation, she followed him. But when they were alone, neither of them seemed to know what to say.

  ‘So, are you OK?’ he asked after a moment.

  For some reason the question made her grumpy. Why wouldn’t she be OK? All she did was see Gabe through a window. It wasn’t like she was in real danger.

  ‘Of course I’m OK,’ she said. ‘But I’m scared and I’m pissed off. I don’t like being spied on and I don’t like being called a liar.’

  His lips quirked upward. ‘Sorry. I assumed you were fine but I didn’t actually know what else to say. The circumstances are bizarre.’

  ‘Yeah, well,’ she said, mollified, ‘at least you didn’t call me crazy, and I appreciate that.’

  ‘You are many things, Allie, but crazy isn’t one of them.’ His smile was contagious and she found herself smiling back at him, despite everything that had just happened. But the seriousness of the moment returned and her smile faded.

  ‘Sylvain, Isabelle says somebody here really is on Nathaniel’s side. Somebody high up. That Night School investigation thing … It’s real.’ Searching his eyes, she saw no surprise, although he hesitated before replying.

  ‘We’ve known for a while,’ he said, ‘that somebody – one of the teachers or the Night School instructors or senior students – is working for Nathaniel.’

  His words made it seem real, and goosebumps raised an icy path down Allie’s arms as she tried to imagine Zelazny or Eloise working for Nathaniel. Or Jo or Lucas. ‘I don’t believe it,’ she breathed. ‘I can’t believe one of us would do that.’

  ‘None of us can.’ His voice low. ‘That’s the problem. It must be somebody we trust. That makes it worse.’

  Wrapping her arms around her torso, Allie looked up at him. ‘Why are they doing this, Sylvain? Do you know? Nathaniel and the people working for him – what do they want so badly?’

  His eyes darkened and he glanced out the window before meeting her gaze again. ‘Things we can’t give them.’

  Without thinking, she grabbed his arm. ‘You know, don’t you? You know what’s really going on.’

  His eyes flashed up from her hand to her eyes, momentarily unguarded; his expression made her breath hitch in her throat.

  Dropping her hand, she lowered her lashes. When she dared to glance up again, that look, whatever it had been, was gone.

  ‘I know things you don’t know, Allie, yes,’ he said. ‘But I’ve been here longer. My family are involved in all of this in a way you wouldn’t understand.’

  ‘Oh really?’ She’d had enough secrecy. Enough lies. And his vague words infuriated her. As she stalked away she said, ‘I wouldn’t be so certain of that.’

  When she arrived at Training Room One that night, the room was already filling, but it was less crowded than it had been the night before. She didn’t see Carter or Sylvain anywhere.

  She dropped on to the mat and stared off into the distance, thinking about her conversation with Sylvain; she was so lost in thought when Zoe walked up she hardly noticed.

  ‘I can’t believe you saw Gabe at dinner. You’re so lucky.’

  Allie snorted in disbelief. ‘I don’t feel
lucky.’

  ‘You should.’ Zoe dropped down beside her and stretched. Allie had to admire her flexibility as she easily lowered her head to one knee, her hands wrapped around the arch of her tiny foot. ‘Everyone’s looking for him and you’re the first one to see him. That’s awesome.’ She moved over the other leg, bending lithely. ‘Some senior students are out with Raj’s team searching the grounds now.’

  That was news to Allie.

  Raj stepped to the centre of the room. ‘We’re going to start with the same flip-and-drop move we practised last night. Please stand with your training partners.’

  Allie liked how his quiet voice carried authority. He didn’t need to shout in order to be respected. And he didn’t seem shaken by what had happened earlier. It was just business as usual.

  ‘Left side attack first.’

  Zoe stepped towards Allie. ‘We should go over this first. I did some things wrong last night.’

  ‘It’s OK.’ Allie cut her off. She hadn’t forgiven her yet. ‘I practised last night. I think I’ve got it.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Zoe sounded doubtful. ‘We could go over it from the beginning. I could show you …’

  ‘Let’s just try it first.’ Allie kept her expression blank. She didn’t want Zoe to know how much she was looking forward to this.

  Zoe shrugged. ‘It’s your funeral.’

  ‘Ready,’ Raj called.

  Zoe stepped out of Allie’s sightline.

  ‘Now!’

  As she had with Sylvain last night, Allie sensed rather than saw Zoe’s flying approach. She planted her feet. When Zoe’s hands gripped her arm she flipped her on to her back with ease.

  ‘Crikey,’ Zoe gasped as Allie helped her up. ‘That was brilliant! Who taught you that?’

  ‘Let’s just say I had a private tutor.’ Allie couldn’t suppress a triumphant smile.

  ‘Switch,’ Raj called.

  Allie prepared as Sylvain had shown her – standing straight with her knees slightly bent, arms at her side. But ready – like a coiled spring. She tried not to be cocky, but the success of her first move had filled her with confidence.

  She knew could do this.

  ‘Now!’

  Grabbing the younger girl by the arm, she used the moves Sylvain had shown her but Zoe stayed solidly on her feet, crouching low and resisting all Allie’s efforts.

  ‘Good.’ Raj stood nearby, watching them. ‘Well done, Zoe. Allie, your moves were perfect but Zoe is well trained; what would you have done next in a real situation?’

  ‘A chokehold,’ she replied without hesitating.

  ‘Correct.’ He looked pleased, and she beamed. ‘Great progress, Allie.’

  For the next hour they practised self-defence moves until Allie’s muscles ached.

  At the end of the session, Zoe studied her appraisingly. ‘Huh. Maybe you aren’t completely crap after all.’

  ‘Thanks … I think, anyway.’ Realising she should praise Zoe, too, Allie added, ‘You’re very good at this.’

  ‘I know.’ Zoe seemed puzzled that Allie felt it necessary to say something so obvious.

  Allie was still smiling as she turned away to see Carter standing in the doorway watching her, his expression dark. She hurried over to him.

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘Hey back,’ he said, but his voice wasn’t warm.

  She tilted her head at the door. ‘Any luck out there?’

  He shook his head, his lips set in a thin line.

  With all that was going on, their fight seemed so petty. Allie shot him a glare. ‘Oh for God’s sake, Carter, enough with the moody act.’ She grabbed his hand, pulling him through the door. ‘Come on. Let’s sort this.’

  She was afraid he’d refuse, but he followed her outside to the terraced garden behind the school. At the very back, hidden amid the boxwood hedge, Allie sat on an old bench, tugging at his hand until he sat down beside her. The wood was cold and clammy from the earlier rain. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘Talk to me.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘Why should I? You won’t listen.’

  ‘Hey!’ He’d practically spat the words at her, and she recoiled from his vehemence. ‘Carter, bloody hell. This isn’t like you. Talk to me.’

  ‘I’m sorry. That was …’ Leaning away from her, he ran his fingers through his hair. ‘But sometimes it’s like you think this is all a game.’

  ‘That’s not fair.’ She fought to stay calm. ‘I wasn’t “playing games” with Sylvain, I was learning to fight. And I’m sorry you were worried about me. I was upset and I wasn’t thinking straight. But I was safe the whole time. I mean, I was with Sylvain, after all.’

  ‘Do you think that makes me feel better?’ He nearly shouted the words, and Allie winced. He lowered his voice. ‘Jesus, Allie. You’re hanging out with Sylvain again after everything that happened.’ A muscle worked in his jaw, and his wounded eyes met hers. ‘You’re supposed to be with me.’

  She put her hand on his arm. ‘I was just training with Sylvain. It’s no big deal.’

  ‘You know I don’t like you hanging out with him, right?’ With reluctance, she nodded. ‘So why do you do it?’

  Her own confusion about how she felt towards Sylvain made this worse. She didn’t know what to say. Everything sounded weak. ‘I guess … because he’s sort of my friend.’

  ‘Your friend who practically molested you at the summer ball.’

  His words hit her like weapons and a flare of anger fired in her. ‘I was thinking more along the lines of my friend who saved my life,’ she shot back. She could tell by the way he winced that she’d hurt him but anger was taking over now and she didn’t care. ‘And yeah, he did something that was wrong and gross, and I hated him for that for a long time. But he’s sorry and he’s been trying to make up for it ever since. And you can see that, too – I know you can. Bloody hell, Carter, this is my life. I can choose my own friends. All I’m asking is for you to trust me.’

  With a jerk he stood up; all his muscles tense. ‘Allie, you’re not listening to me. I don’t want you spending any time with him. At all.’ He spoke with tired dignity, as if she were being completely unreasonable.

  For a long second she just stared at him. What was the point in arguing when he ignored everything she said?

  ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘You … really do hate him, don’t you? So I guess there’s no way you’ll ever believe he just wants to be my friend?’

  His gaze didn’t waver. ‘No. So, it comes down to this: you’re my girlfriend and I don’t want you hanging out with Sylvain. Ever.’

  ‘Oh come on.’ A wave of confusion threatened to subsume her anger. ‘This is stupid. You don’t actually think you can tell me who to be friends with just because we’re dating, do you? This isn’t, like … the past. I choose my own friends.’

  ‘I’m not telling you what to do. It’s your choice.’ He didn’t flinch from her disbelieving gaze. ‘But if you want to be with me, you can’t hang out with Sylvain.’

  As she realised what he was saying, her heart felt heavy in her chest. ‘Are you saying if I’m friends with Sylvain you’ll break up with me?’

  He didn’t reply, but his expression made the answer clear.

  ‘Oh Carter.’ Trapped, she dropped her head to her knees.

  If I say no … do I lose him?

  It was hard for her to breathe, to think. But she didn’t have a choice. And she knew that. He was the most important person in her life.

  I can’t lose Carter.

  She looked up at him, her grey eyes troubled. ‘OK,’ she said unhappily. ‘I guess I won’t hang out with Sylvain then.’

  Triumphant, he grinned at her, then pulled her up off the bench into a tight hug. ‘I’m sorry we fought,’ he whispered, his breath warm against her hair. ‘I don’t want to be a complete bastard but I can’t bear to see you with him.’

  Her head resting against his chest, Allie didn’t reply.

  ELEVEN

  All the next week, Allie worked so ha
rd she barely had time to think about Gabe or her argument with Carter, although a nagging worry about the argument never really left her. Avoiding Sylvain wasn’t difficult – she was too busy for anything except work and sleep. The whole time, though, the idea that one of her teachers, or one of her friends, could be working with Nathaniel plagued her thoughts. One of them was spying on her. Watching her.

  But which one?

  Every time she talked to Eloise, she would think, It can’t be her. She’s too nice. Nobody could be that great an actress.

  She hated Zelazny of course, but it was impossible to imagine that he’d work for Nathaniel. He was dedicated to Cimmeria beyond any sense of proportion. Isabelle was of course out of the question, and then there was Jerry Cole, the science teacher. A nice, geeky man who got excited about atoms and genuinely loved his students – impossible.

  It couldn’t be Raj Patel, or Sylvain, Carter or …

  Her thoughts always ended in the same place: it was impossible to imagine anyone she knew in Night School betraying Isabelle and the students like that.

  But somebody was.

  When she wasn’t running on the school grounds, studying or learning defensive techniques, she was trying to convince Zoe to like her. But all her efforts backfired. The harder she tried, the more suspicious the younger girl was of her motives.

  Zoe’s strange, emotionless way of talking and her almost mechanical approach to work and problem-solving made her hard to like. It had taken Allie a while to truly accept that behind the wireless robot facade and almost scary intelligence was a thirteen-year-old girl.

  Zoe hated small talk. Allie’s attempts to engage her in chitchat always ended with Zoe staring at her with blank fierceness, as if she were trying to figure out what it was about Allie that was so annoying.

  One day when Allie was talking about their science assignment, Zoe interrupted her mid-sentence.

  ‘You talk too much,’ she said. Then she got up and walked away, leaving Allie staring after her, open-mouthed.

  But when they were training, Zoe was a good partner. Whenever Allie quickly learned a move, Zoe would try to compliment her, although it usually came out as, ‘You learned that quicker than usual. What’s wrong?’