The Ondine Collection

by Ebony McKenna

  Hot tears spilled down Ondine’s cheeks. “This is hopeless.” She was so enveloped in her grief, she barely paid attention to the man transforming beside her. He helped himself to her beige bedspread to keep warm. His strong arms embraced her and rocked her gently.

  “It’s all right, lass. I’ll explain it tae the Duke and ye’ll be able tae stay.”

  How she’d yearned to see Hamish again, but she felt so angry and shocked, she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She’d been doing a pretty good job of bluffing Ms Kyryl until Shambles had blurted out the “lost love” angle. But then, he’d also been right in that her mind was already made up to send her home, and nothing they could say could sway that.

  “I should never have cheated. I should have studied harder from the start and then she wouldn’t have been suspicious and none of this would have happened. You shouldn’t have done it, Hamish. You knew she had it in for me. You should never have made me cheat.”

  “Studied harder? Nobody studies more than ye. Sometimes I think ye love school work more than me because ye spend so much time on it. Even so, she would have sent ye home, we had tae do something.”

  Coils of dread tightened the muscles in Ondine’s shoulders. Going home meant facing her parents, who were still furious that she’d disobeyed them in the first place and run off with Hamish.

  “Then why didn’t we come up with something else?” she wailed. “If we’re so smart, how come there wasn’t some other way apart from cheating? Now look what’s happened – she’s expelled me!”

  “Nawt yet she hasnae. We’ll work something out.”

  “Saturn’s rings, are you even listening? You were there, you saw how annoyed she was with the whole psychic thing! I should have admitted I cheated at the beginning and begged her forgiveness. Now all I’ve done is made her angrier.”

  “It’s nawt that bad. We’ll work it out. Old Col will help.”

  No amount of soothing words from Hamish made the slightest dent in Ondine’s mood. “I should never have looked at that answer sheet in the first place and now look where it’s got me. I never wanted to cheat, it always felt wrong, but I let you talk me into it because I trusted you.” Drawing in a staggered breath, she continued her rant: “It’s this stupid palace! It’s done something to your head and now you love spying and sneaking around so much you think cheating is normal.”

  “So it’s all me fault, is it?”

  Ondine shouted, “Yes, it is!” As soon as the words were out she both wished she’d never said them and felt glad she’d blurted them out. Shaking her head at how hopeless everything had become, her breath came in painful gasps.

  A stricken look of betrayal crossed Hamish’s face, followed by utter despair. Palpable silence cloaked the room. They’d never had a problem with silences before, but now it felt horrible. The longer the silence lasted, the harder it became to break it. Try as she might, Ondine was afraid to say anything more because in her present state of anger and confusion she might make things even worse.

  Hamish removed his arm from her shoulder. Ondine felt the chill.

  “I was only trying tae help,” he said. Then he shut his eyes and his body shrivelled away into his ferret shape.

  A fierce ache ripped Ondine’s heart open. “No, Hamish, please don’t go.” Not when they were still fighting, not when they hadn’t sorted it out.

  It was too late. He’d already reverted. “I think I havtae.” His little ferret body waddled out of the room.

  Alone, Ondine gave in to her misery and let the tears fall. She threw herself on her bed, face down in the pillow. After a few minutes of cathartic bawling, she turned the soaked pillow over to continue the marrow-deep sobs.

  “What is such noise?” Draguta came in and saw Ondine on her bed. Ondine felt a bony hand rubbing her back. “There, there, what is upset you so?”

  “Nothing,” Ondine lied.

  “Nothing? Then stop crying when is nothing.”

  Ondine couldn’t stop. She’d lost her place in the palechia school, and even worse, she’d just lost Hamish.

  “So, is something?” Draguta was too smart for her own good.

  It all came out in a rush. “Hamish and I had a fight, and he walked out and now I think Ms Kyryl’s going to kick me out of school because I’ve been cheating. I really tried hard but it wasn’t enough and now it’s too late because I messed it all up.”

  “You have the PMT,” Draguta said. “Need chocolate.”

  With a loud sniff, Ondine wiped her eyes. Hormones would explain part of it. All the same, she’d been dealt a massive blow, which entitled her to a big cry.

  Draguta opened a drawer and snapped off some squares of chocolate, then handed it to Ondine. “Here, eat. Best medicine.”

  “Thanks.” Ondine took a bite. The cocoa-and-sugar hit triggered something in her brain and she started feeling better. Draguta held her arms wide for a hug, and Ondine accepted.

  It was like hugging a lamppost.

  The laundry mistress had been so kind, Ondine owed her some honesty. “Draguta, I have to tell you something. You know how you’re coming up to long-service leave?”

  “Yes?” Draguta looked apprehensive as she sat down on her bed.

  “Well, I found out – please don’t ask me how – that the Duchess is being a total miser and she’ll find a way to sack you before she has to pay you your leave.”

  Draguta reached for her teddy bear and hugged it to her chest. “Ptah! She did that last time. Thinks I stupid! Appreciate warning, but I prepared this time.”

  “I’m so relieved.” Ondine wiped her eyes and took the last bite of chocolate. She kept her voice low. “I thought the Infanta was bonkers, but the Duchess is something else.”

  “It all be fine. I get back to work now,” Draguta said, fetching another cardigan to wear over her existing warm clothes. “Infanta will be wanting you soon.”

  “I know.” Ondine felt the chill in the air and reached for another jumper. “I just need to get myself together before I can face her.”

  Draguta left and Ondine felt misery seep into her skin. It was probably the cold as well, because the staff dormitory had no heating. She’d been sitting still for so long her muscles had started to stiffen. The little teddy on Draguta’s bed offered a morsel of comfort. Ondine picked up the teddy and gave it a hug. Something jabbed her in the chest. It was like hugging Draguta again, all sharp angles and bones.

  Since when did furry teddy bears have corners?

  Ondine looked but she couldn’t see anything amiss. She hugged the toy again and felt another jab. She gave the teddy’s belly a squish for good measure and felt something hard beneath the stuffing.

  Curiosity got the better of her. She turned the teddy upside down and began to look for signs of something not right. It felt a bit rude as she probed for holes. That’s the problem when you’re in the grip of curiosity. Even when it’s rude, you still can’t hold back.

  Running her fingers along the seams, she found a tiny hole. She stuck her finger through and poked about – roughly where one of his kidneys would be, if stuffed toys had kidneys.

  This stuffed toy had solid objects inside. Ondine tried to pull them out with her finger, but the hole was too small and the objects were too big.

  If I can just ... rip! She tore a gaping hole in the side. Ba-dump, ba-dump, her heart began racing at the thought of what lay inside. Badump-badump-badump, her heart charged faster at the thought of Draguta walking back in and finding her violating the teddy.

  Mercury’s wings! Trinkets, keys, earrings, brooches and even a decorative spoon tumbled out of the toy and on to the bed. Quick as a flash, she stuffed them all back into the bear and tugged on the loose threads to close up the hole.

  Staring at the toy, she couldn’t help a worrying thought: Oh, Draguta, what have you done?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Shambles felt lower than a cockroach. A cockroach who’d walked into a deep pit, picked up a shovel and started
digging the pit even deeper. Ms Kyryl was sending Ondine home for cheating and it was his fault. How had his well-meaning attempts to help his sweetheart backfired so badly? When they’d met in the summer she didn’t have classes or exams. He hadn’t realised school and studying were so important to her, but clearly they were and he’d stuffed things right up.

  He needed somewhere to think, but his stomach rumbled so loudly he had to find food first. Taking care not to get under anyone’s feet, he scarpered down the hall and followed the cooking smells. Judging from the pungent caramelised onion, meat and rosemary aromas, roast lamb was on the menu. His mouth watered in anticipation. He should try and take some slices to Ondine, as a peace offering. The poor hen had eaten little more than soup and bread for the past few weeks, perhaps something solid might fix her right up?

  On his brain went, telling him how clever he was to be able to think of Ondine when he was fair starving. Not that he’d given any thought as to how he might deliver such a meal to her in his present state. Perhaps he might find a wee bag or box he could carry the food in. What it lacked in presentation, he could more than make up for in affection and perhaps a grovelling apology, if that’s what it took to get back in her good books.

  As he neared the kitchen, a strident female voice echoed through the hall: “I’ve never sheen such wanton washtage!”

  The kitchen noises stopped. No chopping, no washing, no sounds of blenders or grinders. Mindful that people might run out of the kitchen at any moment and step on him, Shambles kept to the edges and poked his furry head around the doorway to see what was going on.

  It was Duchess Kerala in full rant. She made quite a sight, her head moving madly from side to side, all without so much as a hair breaking free from her shiny helmet-do. One hand held a glass of white wine, while the other gesticulated wildly to Emphasise! Every! Word!

  “Look at that pile of perfectly good food you’re about to throw out! All those potato shkins can go into shoups, not the composht bins. You’re throwing out the bread crusts when any chef with half a gram of shense can make croutonsh with them. And I can’t believe you’re throwing out half the shelery! Shelery tops taste just like parshley and you’ve brought that in by the truckload. And I can’t believe you’re throwing out the parshley shtalks instead of putting them in the casheroles! The washtage! It beggarsh belief!”

  At this point, some people might draw breath, but the Duchess seemed beyond such mortal constraints.[164]

  “What’s thish? A ton of rhubarb leaves? You cannot throw thish out. I’ve told you before, it makesh a perfectly good subshitute for spinach!”

  Nobody said anything in response. Shambles looked around the room at the trembling, pale-faced kitchen staff. They looked so young, barely older than Ondine. None dared answer back.

  No chance of snaffling even a morsel of roast lamb while the Duchess kept storming around the kitchen, finding more and more things to complain about, her voice growing ever more shrill with each discovery.

  Tummy rumbling even more loudly, Shambles turned tail and ran back to Old Col’s room. Drat, her bed was empty. She must be out somewhere. The only thing to eat was a bowl of cat food one of the staff had set out in a bowl.

  “Ah, weil, when in Brugel.” Shambles took a deep breath and a small bite.

  After a few mouthfuls, he started to feel better. But then he thought past his hunger and a fresh pang of regret hit him. He needed to make it up to Ondine, but huffing fish-breath all over her wouldn’t help if he wanted to kiss and make up.

  It was imperative he find some mouthwash to get rid of the lingering fishiness. He trotted into the bathroom and jumped on to the sink. Not in one leap – even a ferret has his limits – but two leaps. Floor to toilet seat – ooops, nearly fell in, must remember the lid’s not always down! – then to the edge of the sink. He found a tube of toothpaste and managed to chew the flip-top lid off.[165]

  Stepping on the tube, he forced out a neat white pipe of minty paste. A few licks later, his mouth filled with foamy freshness and he felt really pleased with the results.

  At that moment, Draguta Matice walked into the bathroom with arms full of fresh towels and screamed, “Aaaaaah! Rabies!”

  “Hnnnnggggff!” He tried to respond but he had a mouth full of foam. In desperation he spat out as much as he could into the sink, but the white bubbles coming from his mouth only made Dragutta scream louder. Draguta dropped her bundle on the bathroom floor and ran out of Old Col’s room, shouting all the way,

  “Pyotr! Pyotr! Rabies!”

  No, no! Shambles forgot about the height and leapt to the ground. Crack! He landed hard on the floor, smacking his chin. Pain lanced through him. His head went all fuzzy and wobbly. If he’d had a chance to think, he would have descended in two stages, back to the loo seat, then the floor. Desperation had made him forget how small he was and how far he’d fall. Trying to shake out the pain only made it worse.

  Ye daftie wee bampot, ye’ve broken ye jaw!

  Still not thinking – he seemed to be doing a lot of that – Shambles ran after Draguta to make her stop. She didn’t know he was really Hamish, but if he could explain himself, she might realise her mistake and stop screaming. He called out, “Wait!” but his jaw hurt so much it came out like “waaaad” and even he barely understood it.

  People came rushing towards Draguta’s screams, adding to the commotion. Maids, visitors, Pyotr the seneschal and, worst luck of all, Lord Vincent.

  “I’ll handle this,” Lord Vincent said, raising his booted foot.

  Arrggghhh! The blood froze in Shambles’s veins as the size eleven sole filled his vision. Pain or no pain, he bolted sideways to avoid certain death and scarpered back into the safety of Old Col’s room.

  Not safe for long! Everyone from the hall poured into the room and began talking at once.

  “Where did it go?”

  “Over there, look!”

  “It’s under the bed.”

  “Is that it over there?”

  “Throw a blanket on it.”

  “Someone get the dog-catcher!”

  “Someone get a gun!”

  Trembling with fear, Shambles cowered under the bed. He wiped his mouth with his furry front paw to clear away the foam. Not gentle enough! Fresh pain speared his jaw. A little bit of sick burned his throat as he feared for his life. Any second now one of them would look under the bed and it would be goodnight Shambles.

  Wiping his mouth again – gently! – he managed to get rid of the remaining gobs of toothpaste. It still looked bad because his front legs were streaked with saliva. If anyone saw him, they could mistake his wet limbs for profuse sweatiness. The only option left to him was transforming into his human shape. If he concentrated hard enough and fixed Ondine’s smiling dark eyes in his mind. Sure, he’d have a mountain of explaining to do when he crawled out from under the bed without a scrap of clothing on. But at least he’d be their size, and he’d be able to take on Lord Vincent on a level playing field.

  “What’s going on?” a woman said.

  He knew that voice. It wasn’t Ondine, but Old Col. Maybe her presence could bring him round? He anticipated the maelstrom of lurching and twisting as he willed himself to become human. But nothing happened.

  “Your ferret has the rabies,” Draguta said. “We must capture, before he bites anyone.”

  “He hasn’t got rabies,” Old Col said. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

  From his hiding place under the bed, Shambles saw Lord Vincent’s heavy boots stamp about the floor.

  “How do you know it’s not full of disease?” Vincent said.

  “It had foaming mouth!” Draguta added.

  “Nobody has rabies,” Old Col said. “That ferret is my pet. He is vaccinated and in perfect health. I have the vet bills to prove it. Now if you don’t mind, you’re in my room and I’d like some privacy.”

  Lord Vincent snorted contempt. “You’re a guest in this palace and you’ll do what you’re told.”
>
  “Hold your tongue!” Old Col snapped right back.

  “Abwath –” A strange noise came from Lord Vincent’s mouth.

  Shambles peeked out from his hiding place to see the Duke’s eldest son holding his tongue between his thumb and two fingers. In fact, he didn’t seem able to let it go.

  “Wha-hab-oo-dundame?” Lord Vincent cried.

  “I told you to ‘hold your tongue’. You’re lucky it wasn’t ‘shut your face’, then you’d be in real strife,” Old Col said. “It will wear off when you reach the other side of the palechia.”

  It took all Shambles’s willpower not to burst out laughing. It was probably a good thing, because laughing would hurt his jaw like crazy.

  Vincent looked furious and stomped out of the room.

  “Show’s over, may I have some privacy please?” Old Col said.

  When everyone else had left the room, Shambles craned his head out from under the bed. It hurt to speak, but he needed to thank her. “Tha’ was goo’ magic, Col.”

  Old Col grinned. “Yes. I rather think it was. Now, why are you even more difficult than usual to understand today?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Melancholy cloaked Ondine as she tidied the Infanta’s rooms. For some reason, Anathea wasn’t being a total cow and had refrained from telling her off every minute.

  “Where is my happy Ondine?” the Infanta asked after half an hour of heavy silence.

  Ondine wiped her face, trying really hard not to bawl in front of her employer. But her chin wobbled and her vision started blurring. “I had a fight with my boyfriend and now I don’t think he ever wants to talk to me again.”

  “You have time for a boyfriend?”

  “Apparently not.” Would this horrible pain behind her ribs ever go away?

  “You love him?”

  “With all my heart.”

  “And he walked away?” The Infanta’s face softened.

  “Yes.”

  “He let you down. Now you know how I felt,” she said. “It won’t be the first time. Mark my words, you will be let down time and time again.” Imperceptibly, the Infanta’s chin wobbled, but then she turned away.