“Crystal, can you tell us how the last two days have been for you?” someone else called, while flashes went off all around.
We stopped in the gateway and turned to face them.
“It’s been a bit crazy,” she said with a bright smile. “I can’t believe everyone’s making such a fuss about a little prank.”
“So those frogs weren’t real, Violet?” The man asking sounded disappointed.
I glanced at CJ, horribly conscious of the strange collar digging into my neck underneath my uniform. What if it stopped working now? I’d be an international laughing stock before the day was over.
CJ grabbed my hand and squeezed, then stepped in smoothly to fill the gap. Times like these her self-confidence came in handy.
“Of course they were real. We can’t make frogs appear out of thin air. We’re not magicians, you know.”
Someone laughed. In a minute they’d be eating out of her hand.
“Say something, Violet!”
I scowled at the speaker. “Like what?”
“My sister’s the strong, silent type,” CJ said.
More laughter, and someone asked us to pose for a picture, so she smooshed her face against mine and we both smiled until our cheeks ached. Then she cut smoothly through the questions by saying we were late for class and had to go, and then we were through the gate at last. No one followed us.
“Well done,” said Kyle, and CJ rewarded him with a dazzling smile.
As we hurried past the hideous statue out the front of admin, I noticed that Year 7 had finished cleaning up the toilet paper. Now the only thing decorating it was a large crow perched on its head. It cawed mournfully and flapped away as we entered admin.
“Won’t be a minute,” Kyle said. “We just have to sign in.”
The office ladies gawked at the two large official-looking security types invading their foyer, but the formalities were soon completed and we were on our way to class. I had Physics in E block.
“There’s that stupid woman,” Simon said as we cut through C block past the canteen.
Up ahead, mounting the stairs, was the woman from the sports car. She wore a tight-fitting red dress that hugged some rather impressive curves. Her long hair rippled down her back past her waist, but she was soon out of sight round the bend in the stairs, so I didn’t see her face.
“Is she one of your teachers?” Simon’s expression made it clear what he thought of teachers who drove like maniacs.
“I don’t know her,” I said. “We’re new here.”
“She must have got her licence out of a cereal box.”
It was a relief to arrive at the lab. As if it wasn’t bad enough having a grumpy sister, now I had a grumpy bodyguard too. I hoped he didn’t cross paths with the woman in the red dress again. I could just see him having a go at her, which wouldn’t earn me any brownie points with the teachers at my new school.
As it turned out, the universe had other plans.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
After Physics I had Ancient History, my one subject that was just for fun. CJ’s electives were all like that—arty-farty things like Visual Arts and Drama, but most of mine were focused on a career in science: useful subjects like Physics and Chemistry. But I’d always loved history, the older the better. At our last school we’d been studying ancient Egypt, which fascinated me, but here they’d spent the whole year on Greek history. The first semester had covered the Peloponnesian Wars and the city-states of Athens and Sparta. Now they were on to the Persian Wars, where the empire of Persia was trying to invade Greece, a mighty Goliath against a puny little David.
Having missed all the background, I’d been wading through the writings of Herodotus trying to catch up, but today Herodotus and how much work I had to do was the last thing on my mind. I was going to see Zac again.
I was a little surprised to find the whole class already here, seated and waiting. Usually most of the boys straggled in right on the bell, but here they were, looking as keen as if someone had offered free beer. Zac was over by the windows, next to a boy I didn’t know. He smiled at me and I gave him a little wave, then immediately felt like an idiot. I dropped into the seat next to Sona, the heat of another blush creeping up my cheeks. Nice one, Vi. Very smooth.
“What on earth are you wearing around your neck?” Sona asked.
Before I could answer, the woman in the red dress walked in, and the reason for the boys’ eagerness became clear. If the word “sexy” hadn’t existed, they would have had to invent it just for her. I’d forgotten Zac had said we had a relief teacher for history. Miss Moore, or something like that. Somehow he’d forgotten to mention she looked like a supermodel. I cast him a reproachful look, but he was oblivious, staring at Miss Moore like a kid on Christmas morning just longing to unwrap his present.
Great. Now I had to compete for his attention with Miss Sex Kitten Australia? And how was Simon going to react to my new teacher? He was waiting outside, out of sight. I hoped he’d keep his opinion of her driving to himself, but nothing I hoped for lately seemed to be working out. Why should this be any different?
“Good afternoon, Year 11. I have permission notes for you to take home to your parents, and I will need them returned by Friday, as the excursion is planned for the second day back next term. Don’t forget! You won’t want to miss out. We’ll be going to the Art Gallery to see the exhibition ‘Treasures of the Ancient Hellenic World’, which will be a marvellous opportunity to see some artefacts that rarely leave the Louvre in Paris.”
Her voice was so deep and husky it even made me think about sex. The guys had no chance.
She passed a bundle of notes to the front row, who then passed them back to the rest of the class. Her movements were fluid and graceful like a dancer’s. I barely looked at the note before shoving it into my backpack. Like everyone else, I was mesmerised by Miss Moore.
She perched on the edge of the teacher’s desk and surveyed the room with eyes that were such a dark brown they appeared black, matching her raven hair. Her skin was as pale as mine, but she made it look good, as if she was a goddess carved from marble. Her dress wasn’t low cut or even particularly short, skimming just above her knees, but the way she filled it out made it the sexiest garment I’d ever seen.
“Now, on to Thermopylae. Last week with Mr Chadwick I believe you looked at the Persian advance and the Greek preparations for battle. Did everyone read the passage from Herodotus?”
Most people nodded, though in a kind of dreamy way.
“And what did you think?”
Hands shot into the air. Even the boys in the back row, who usually chatted to each other and refused to participate in class discussion, were straining to answer her. She chose one. “Miss, I thought Leonidas was a bit of an idiot.”
“Oh?” Her dark eyes glittered, but her face showed only polite attention. “Why is that?”
The boy shifted uncomfortably. His desire to impress the glorious Miss Moore warred with his natural inclination not to draw the teacher’s attention. “Well, he only had three hundred men.”
“Three hundred Spartans,” she corrected. “There were also the Thespian and Theban contingents.”
“Yeah, but it still wasn’t very many, was it?” someone else piped up. “Not compared to the thousands of Persians they were facing.”
“So you think he should have run away like the rest of the Greeks and let the Persians take the pass without contest?”
The first boy shrugged. “He got defeated anyway, didn’t he? And he must have known he couldn’t win. What was the point of throwing away their lives for nothing?”
Miss Moore rose and prowled across the room, more panther now than sex kitten. Something about her had changed: a hardness in the eyes? A slight tightening of those full lips? Whatever it was, it had us sinking lower in our seats, hoping to avoid her notice. I bet that kid was wishing he’d kept his mouth shut.
“You’re forgetting the prophecy. Herodotus, Book 7, verse 220, everyone.
Herodotus has already told us Leonidas is descended from Herakles, or Hercules, as you may know him. Here the prophecy tells us that either Sparta will be sacked, or a king descended from Herakles must die. So Leonidas faces a choice—either give up his own life, or see Sparta itself fall to the enemy. Leonidas makes the noble choice, the only acceptable choice for a king of Sparta, and chooses to die in glorious battle.”
True, the Spartans seemed a bloodthirsty lot. In my reading I’d found they trained their young men from a very early age in the arts of war, and Spartan women considered it better for their menfolk to come back from battle dead than return defeated. So three hundred Spartans were worth a hell of a lot more than three hundred regular soldiers. But still …
“It was only a prophecy,” I said. “Anything could have happened to change things afterwards.”
“Only a prophecy,” Miss Moore repeated. Her lips were a slash of red in her still, pale face. “You’re the new girl, aren’t you? Violet, isn’t it?”
I nodded. Her gaze rested for a moment on the hideous thing around my neck, but she didn’t comment. I waited as the silence lengthened ominously. Why hadn’t I kept my mouth shut?
“Well, Violet, in those days there was no ‘only’ about it.” There was ice in that husky voice now. “Men paid attention to such things. They lived much closer to their gods, and they knew better than to tempt fate. The Oracle at Delphi had spoken, and Leonidas was doomed. His only choice was the manner of his death, and so he chose the route of glory.
“The Spartans were the greatest warriors the world has ever seen.” She moistened those blood-red lips, and her dark eyes took on a dreamy quality. “What if the numbers of Persian arrows were so great they blotted out the sun? To a Spartan, that only meant they should enjoy fighting in the shade.
“The Persians whipped their men into the pass, but the Spartans leapt forward to embrace battle and waded through oceans of Persian blood. The screams of the dying meant nothing to them. They were merciless killing machines. They fought until their spears shattered in their hands, and then they fought with swords. When their swords broke they used their hands and even their teeth, ripping their enemy’s lives from them in whatever manner they could till the last of them fell, covered in glory.
“The fighting lasted until nightfall, and thousands of Persians bled their lifeblood onto the ground of that narrow pass. The ravens feasted that day. Such a battle has never been seen since.”
You could have heard a pin drop in the classroom, and nobody dared move. My skin crawled. She spoke as if she’d seen it. Worse, seen it and loved it. Her face was alight. Something was seriously wrong with this woman, however beautiful she was.
Her eyes refocused on the class and she smiled. It was as if a cloud had passed and now the sun shone again. “So, the Spartans lost the pass and the battle—but did the Persians really win? Thermopylae inflicted a terrible blow on Persian morale. When victory feels like a defeat, there are no winners. How do you think this affected the outcome of the battle that followed at Salamis?”
Zac put up his hand and the class resumed along more normal lines, but it took a moment for my heart rate to return to normal. I couldn’t shake the memory of her face as she described the blood and death. Not a pleasant expression. I hoped Mr Chadwick’s leg got better real soon.
When the bell went for the end of the period, I packed up and got outside as fast as I could. The boys all lingered, taking their time to pack away their gear, as if they couldn’t bear to part from the beautiful Miss Moore. My reunion with Zac would just have to wait.
“Is she crazy?” I muttered to Sona.
“Who? Miss Moore? What do you mean?”
“All that bloodthirsty stuff. She sounded like she was right into it.”
She shrugged. “She’s just a history nut. She likes bringing it alive for her students.” She glanced at Simon, leaning against the railing with his arms folded across his broad chest. “Who’s your friend?”
“Ahh … security. Because of the … you know. CJ’s got one too.”
Simon moved closer in a meaningful way. Obviously he thought we’d spent long enough chatting.
Sona took the hint, though her dark eyes were alive with curiosity. “I’ll see you later, then. You can tell me everything.”
Miss Moore came out carrying her books. Simon frowned and dropped the casual pose. Oh, no. Here we go.
“I want a word with you.”
“Yes?” She tossed her long black hair and smiled. Sex kitten was back.
“You nearly caused an accident outside the school.”
“Oh, that was you?” She laid a hand on his arm and leaned closer. “I’m so sorry! I had the sun in my eyes and I just didn’t see you. Are you all right?”
“Yes, we’re fine …” She’d sucked the wind right out of his sails. Even grumpy Simon had trouble staying mad with someone who was smiling at him like that. “No harm done, I guess,” he finished lamely.
“Wonderful! I must run, I have another class.”
Her high heels tapped their way down the walkway while we stared after her, the sun catching blue highlights in her raven hair. The sway of her hips was mesmerising. A crow swooped down and picked a half sandwich off the walkway mere feet away, hopping under the railing to snatch it up. Not until Miss Moore rounded the corner and disappeared from sight did Simon stir, disturbing the crow. It flapped lazily into the branches of a tree in the courtyard below and watched us leave. The piece of ham dangling from its mouth made me think of ravens feasting on the battlefield and I shuddered.
***
Sona was loitering by her locker, not far from mine. Other students swirled all around us in the passageway, the air full of the metallic slamming of locker doors and the hubbub of voices. When she saw me she gave up all pretence of fiddling with her key and came over.
“Where’d you get the bodyguard?” she asked in a low voice.
“Mum and Dad insisted,” I said, opening my locker and shoving Herodotus and the other two big heavy history texts I’d been lugging back into it with relief. I looked around for Zac, but there was no sign of him. Damn. “There’s been some crazy talk on the internet. People saying we’re witches. Death threats and stuff. They have to stay with us all day.”
“But who are they?” Sona was a woman on a mission. “Where do you get a bodyguard from? Bodyguards ‘R’ Us?”
“Oh, they work with Mum and Dad,” I said, trying to keep it vague. I should have known that wouldn’t work with Sona.
“Come on, Vi, spill! What’s going on with you? I haven’t seen you since Monday. I didn’t even get to see the big frog-spitting scene. Well, I saw it on YouTube … but that’s not the same!”
“Yeah, you and fifty billion other people.”
I sighed. She hadn’t seen me since Monday? It was only Wednesday, but so much had changed. If only I could tell her.
It was kind of strange that I wanted to. Usually I was a pretty private sort of person. When you have a twin, you have a built-in confidante. They’re always there to vent to and share secrets with. Sure, I’d had friends apart from CJ; I wasn’t some weird loner. But no one as close. When I thought about it, I’d only really known Sona since Monday, but already I felt comfortable enough with her that it felt much longer than that. Some people were just like that.
She was still waiting, her big brown eyes hopeful. I wondered if she’d believe me if I did tell her. Maybe.
“You sure you couldn’t make a frog appear?” She leaned against the bank of lockers and eyed me expectantly, as if frogs might come spewing out of my mouth if only she asked nicely.
“Sona.”
“Just checking. It looked pretty realistic in that video. How’d you do that?”
I slammed my locker shut, maybe a little more forcefully than necessary.
“I really don’t want to talk about it.”
She twirled one long strand of hair around her finger, considering my surly bodyguard. “And is Mr Happy
here to protect you or to make sure no more frogs appear?”
Hmmm. Keeping secrets from her could be trickier than I’d thought.
“Everyone’s seen the frogs,” she continued. “You can deny it until you’re blue in the face, but half the world is now convinced magic is real and happening right here at Fernleigh High.”
“And the other half?”
“Thinks it’s all a scam and you and CJ are devious little bitches.”
Now I knew what those Cottingley girls had felt like.
“Nice. And which half do you belong to?”
“I’m not deciding until I get the inside goss. Although, you know, either way I’m cool.”
CJ appeared out of the rush of students heading for the next class. The lockers were on the ground floor of E block, outside the science labs, and a little too close to the main entrance into the block, which was the largest in the school. Apart from all the people actually using the lockers, we were competing for space with students lining up for science classes and others streaming in or pushing their way out of E block. The noise of slamming locker doors competing with the tramp of feet and loud chatter meant Sona and I had to stand close just to hear each other.
CJ’s locker was on the other side of the passage from mine. She didn’t appear to notice me among all the bodies, though Kyle nodded to Simon. He looked rather harried, as if trailing CJ around school was proving more of a challenge than he’d expected.
“You can’t blame me for being interested,” Sona said. “This is the most exciting thing that’s ever happened. Everyone wants to know!”
As if the universe wanted to prove her right, a younger kid stepped out of the flow of bodies and stood looking expectantly at me.
“Hi, Violet.” He looked like he might be in Year 7 or 8. “I was wondering if I could interview you for the school newspaper.”
I stared at him, horrified. “No!”
“I like frogs,” he offered.
“Good for you. The answer’s still no.”
He shrugged and cut through the crowd toward CJ, obviously hoping for a better reception there.
The Fairytale Curse (Magic's Return Book 1) Page 13
