A Tale of Two Proms (Bard Academy)

by Lockwood, Cara

  “And then what?” This was Lindsay.

  “And then the scale tries to right itself.” Coach H looked at each one of us in turn.

  I thought about what it would be like to spend your whole life in the modern world only to wake up and find yourself trapped in some other world, maybe even one from hundreds of years ago. Like now, where there were crazy bloodthirsty French revolutionaries wanting to behead everyone in sight.

  “Who gets sucked in?” Lindsay asked.

  “We don’t know,” Headmaster B said. “It could be anyone. At any time.”

  “Okay, so you guys don’t want Heathcliff to stay here because you didn’t want to have to send a real person to take his place,” Hana said.

  “And there’s another problem,” Coach H said.

  “Oh, of course there is.” Lindsay’s voice was sarcastic.

  “Catherine has moved the vault,” Coach H said. “The vault acts as the doorway between the two worlds. And since the doorway has been moved, all equilibrium between the two dimensions might be off.”

  “Which means?” Blade asked.

  “Vacuums and worse,” Headmaster B said. “No one has ever moved the vault before.”

  “Okay, so we have to find Catherine and Heathcliff and get the vault back to where it belongs?” Ryan asked.

  “Right,” Coach H said, nodding.

  “So Emily Bronte really had nothing to do with any of this?” I still couldn’t believe that after all this time thinking Emily had managed to create another elaborate scheme to destroy Bard, her sister Charlotte had simply done it by accident.

  “No, she did not,” Headmaster B said.

  “So we need to find the vault, right? To stop all the crazy,” Blade said.

  “Yeah, but how do we do that?” Hana asked.

  “We’ve been looking,” Coach H said. “We haven’t found it here. And we suspect that Catherine wanted to bring all of Wuthering Heights into the real world. But the transition didn’t go as smoothly as she hoped.”

  “Which is why Netherfield Park is sitting on Shipwreck Island right now instead of the Grange,” I said.

  “The Grange?” Lindsay asked me.

  “An estate in Wuthering Heights.”

  “That’s why she needed all of Bard to disappear – for an equal swap,” Hana exclaimed.

  “Yes,” Coach H nodded. “But the thing is that we don’t know if the swap will really work.” Coach H looked at Headmaster B.

  “We don’t know how stable the worlds will be with so many things out of the natural order,” she added.

  I was guessing she meant that if you swap things out between the dimensions, it’s an iffy science at best.

  “So, where do you think the rest of Bard is?” Lindsay asked.

  “What about London?” Hana asked. She had Lindsay’s copy of A Tale of Two Cities in her hand. “I don’t know for sure, but it seems like some of the passages here have been changed.”

  “Let me look,” Coach H said, as he took the book from her hands.

  A hard knock came on the outside of the door and a man shouted something in French. We all looked at the door. I didn’t know what he said, but it sounded like he wanted in.

  “Were you followed?” hissed Coach H to Headmaster B.

  “I did not think so, but…” Headmaster B looked worried. She slid to the window near the door and peered out. “They have pistols and knives,” she said.

  The man on the other side of the door banged again, harder this time. His voice sounded more forceful, his words even less polite. Sydney stood up straight, his face tense.

  “He wants Sydney,” Coach H told us. “He thinks we’re harboring fugitives.”

  “We are harboring a fugitive,” Blade pointed out, reasonably.

  “I believe I’ve changed my mind about losing my head today,” Sydney told Samir. “Would you kindly tell those gentleman that message?”

  “You tell them yourself,” Samir snapped.

  Between the two of them, it was clearly going to be a coward-off.

  Headmaster B turned, her eyes fixed with purpose on Lindsay. “Read the chapter Hana holds in her hands,” she commanded.

  “Where should I start?”

  “Where Hana’s finger lies on the page.”

  Hana scooted closer to Lindsay and held the open book up to her so she could read it. Lindsay began to read the words. In the middle of the room another portal opened to a different chapter inside the book.

  “Wait—we’re already in a book, how can we go into the same book again?” Ryan asked.

  “We’ve never done it before,” Headmaster B said.

  “First time for everything,” Coach H said. “Or would you rather take your chances with the revolutionaries?”

  I thought about the guillotine and the very real possibility of losing my head. I glanced over at the glimmering portal. Seemed like as good an option as any.

  The portal grew larger, even as the man outside gathered others with him. We could hear an angry horde bunching up outside the door. They were getting ready to break down the door. I could hear them yelling back and forth.

  “Let’s hurry up,” I told Lindsay. Her tempo grew faster, and the portal opened wider, and suddenly, I could see London. There were lots of buildings crowded together and clusters of streets filled with horse-drawn carriages. The modern day signs of the city—Big Ben, among them—were missing. It looked like a very different place than the London I’d seen on TV.

  Outside, there was a loud bang on the door. The angry mob outside was attempting to break it down with something hard and heavy.

  “Now,” Coach H said, ushering Ryan and Hana through as well as Blade and Samir. Samir was hesitant, and grabbed Coach H’s shirt, causing the ghost to tumble into the portal with them. Lindsay jumped in after, leaving Headmaster B, Sydney and me. Just then, the small shop door cracked open and a half a dozen angry men streamed in. Headmaster B put herself between us and the men. Sydney blanched and ducked, and he had a brief look of terror on his face. It was strange to see a man who looked so much like Heathcliff show so much fear, when Heathcliff acted as if he didn’t even know what the emotion meant.

  Sydney bumped into me in his haste, nearly knocking me to the ground to get the portal. One minute he was lamenting the fact we’d saved him from the guillotine, and the next he was running over me to save himself. He did have the decency to grab my hand on his way by, yanking me with him through the portal. And then we were tumbling away together to another world.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The first thing I felt was cold London drizzle on my face. This city didn’t smell that great either, but the rain at least dampened the stink. I had a feeling when the rain stopped everything would smell like wet dog, but for now, the odors were under control. Sydney pulled me under a nearby awning to shield me from the rain. Headmaster B appeared behind us; she’d made it through just as the portal sealed shut.

  “You all right, m’love?” Sydney asked me. He still had his arm around my shoulders, as if worried I’d fall again. He had a look in his eye I hadn’t seen before. Concern?

  “I’m fine,” I said, brushing raindrops off my hair. “No thanks to you. Do you always run first and fight later?”

  “I don’t like odds not in my favor,” Sydney admitted with a reluctant smile. “But I like to believe that I could stand my ground when I’m cornered. Or if I’m paid large sums of money.”

  “But you were about to sacrifice yourself today. At the guillotine.” I was realizing quickly that Sydney was a man full of contradictions. “You need courage to do that.”

  “Liquid courage,” he said. “Which sadly, I am out of.” He pulled a small tin canister from a pocket in his coat and turned the flask upside down to show it was empty. “I hope you weren’t thinking that I was a brave, valiant knight in shining armor. You’ve got the wrong man.”

  “You won’t convince me that going to the guillotine for love isn’t brave.” I may not comp
letely trust Sydney, but I couldn’t argue with the ending of A Tale of Two Cities. “You volunteered to get your head chopped off so that your true love could happily end her days with the man she loved.”

  “You give me too much credit,” he said. “What if I told you that I was only doing it hoping that the lady in question would spend every waking moment of her life regretting she gave me up?” Sydney’s eyes took on a hardened quality. I’d seen that look before. And suddenly all thoughts of him being a hero vanished. There was a coldness to him, a hardness, and I’d better not forget it, either. “Lucie, the woman I loved,” Sydney continued, “was a very sensitive lady. I don’t know if she could’ve lived well with herself knowing I committed suicide so her lover could live. And even if she did, there’s no way they’d actually be happy.”

  “Why not?”

  “Charles can’t compete with me as a martyr.” Sydney shrugged. “Granted, if I lived, I’d always come up short to him. He was always better, always so righteous.” Sydney nearly spat the word, like it tasted bad in his mouth. “But, with me dead, Lucie could glamorize me to her heart’s content. Eventually, in her mind, I would be better. Because, let’s face it, I was willing to die for her. Was Charles? How righteous was he really?”

  “So, let me get this straight,” I said. “You wanted to die for Lucie in order to make her miss you for the rest of her life, and by the way, be miserable with the man she chose to marry?”

  “Something like that,” Sydney said and then he grinned at the thought of Lucie miserable.

  “You have some serious issues,” I said.

  Sydney shrugged. “This is not news to me.” He cocked his head to one side. “You know you have the most interesting eyes, not completely unlike Lucie’s…” He drew closer to me. I put a hand on his chest to stop him.

  “Whoa,” I said, stopping him with a hard hand to his chest. “What are you doing?”

  Sydney shrugged one shoulder, not bothering to look embarrassed. “Not the best time?” he asked me.

  “Considering you nearly got me killed, I’d say no, not the best time.”

  “Maybe another time then,” Sydney said.

  Or maybe never, I thought. He could try all he wanted but he wasn’t going to get anywhere. He might look like Heathcliff, but he wasn’t anything like him. There was a roughness to Heathcliff, it was true, but he wasn’t heartless. His roughness made him dependable and brave. Sydney’s hardness made him cold and uncaring. Heathcliff would never run me over trying to get to the exit. Sydney, on the other hand, made calculated risks. I was beginning to see that about him.

  He and Heathcliff were nothing alike.

  “Would you two quit fooling around?” Lindsay grabbed my elbow and gave me a tug. “Everyone else went that way.” She pointed down a dark and narrow alley.

  “After you, m’ladies,” Sydney said and did an exaggerated bow.

  I followed Lindsay down a dark and damp cobblestone alley. At the end of the alley we found ourselves staring at a large wooden door, flanked by two massive colored stain-glass windows.

  “Look familiar?” Lindsay asked me. I glanced upward, and saw that this was the Bard Academy Chapel. I’d know those awful gargoyles anywhere, plus, one was missing – the one that had nearly crushed me back on the lawn.

  “The others are already inside.” Lindsay pushed open the heavy wooden door. Sydney and I followed her through.

  Coach H, Blade, Samir, Hana and Ryan were all searching the inside. The only one missing from our group was Headmaster B, but since I’d seen her on the street I was sure she was around somewhere. There were no other Bard students that I could see. Around us, the familiar scenes of the most famous characters from Shakespeare’s works played themselves out in stained glass. I never thought I’d be glad to see Macduff again, but I was.

  “Where’s everyone else?” I asked.

  “Not here,” Coach H said. Ryan was standing next to Hana near the south end of the church. Blade and Samir were at the north end. They were looking in closets and behind closed doors, but weren’t finding anything.

  At that moment, Headmaster B materialized through the north wall of the church. It was just a routine demonstration of the fact she was a ghost, but it always threw me.

  “I’ve scouted out a two-square-mile area,” she told us, as her feet met the solid stone tiles of the floor. “It appears Bard has been scattered throughout the city. No doubt the students are all across London.”

  “We need a plan,” Coach H said.

  “Well, if it’s a plan you need, I can help.” This was from Miss A, who materialized from the shadows of the back of the church. We all jumped a little, surprised to see her. Coach H spoke first.

  “Jane! We thought we’d lost you.”

  “Not lost, just misplaced.” Miss A smiled at us all. Her gaze lingered longest on me before it jumped to Sydney.

  “This is Sydney Carton,” I said, so she wouldn’t be confused. “We saved him from the guillotine, but he wasn’t too happy about it.”

  “Well…” Sydney began.

  “I’m sure we can make it up to him,” Miss A said, interrupting. She nodded curtly at Sydney, who didn’t press the issue.

  “Do you know where any of the other students are?” Headmaster B was now in front of Miss A.

  “I’m afraid not,” Miss A said.

  I glanced outside and realized darkness was falling on London. The church was growing darker, too. Miss A waved her hand and all the candles in the place sparked to life.

  “We need to find Catherine and soon,” Miss A said.

  “Have you seen her?” If Catherine was nearby, then Heathcliff might be, too, I thought.

  “I haven’t seen her, but I suspect she’s here. I’m afraid your plan mostly backfired, Charlotte.”

  “How did you know?” Headmaster B was a little bit unsettled by Miss A having guessed her intentions.

  “It was easy enough to conjecture,” Miss A said. “And your reaction confirms my suspicions.” Miss A tugged at the gloves covering her hands. Once off, she tucked them into a small pocket in her long skirt.

  “What do you mean her plan didn’t work?” I asked. Did she mean Heathcliff and Catherine weren’t getting along?

  “It’ll be okay, dear,” Miss A said. “We’ll find them.” She wasn’t going to elaborate, I could tell. But something about her voice gave me hope.

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Headmaster B said.

  “Charlotte, honestly, I do wonder whether you’re not more like your sister Emily than you realize,” Miss A said.

  “Excuse me?” Headmaster’s voice was crisp and sharp.

  “Oh, I don’t mean the meddling of course,” Miss A said. “I mean your insistence on keeping people who love each other apart.”

  I felt my face grow warm. I wasn’t used to people, especially the faculty, talking so openly about my feelings for Heathcliff. For the past three years, it’s been a Don’t-Ask-Don’t-Tell policy.

  “Do you have another way?” Headmaster B asked coldly.

  “But, of course I do,” Miss A said, beaming brightly. “How about a happy ending? They are so much more uplifting than sad ones. Don’t you think?” She looked at me. I smiled. I hoped a happy ending wasn’t impossible for me, but I didn’t know if I could hope for one.

  “Catherine and Heathcliff belong together,” Headmaster B said now, bringing the subject back around.

  “Do they?” Miss A challenged. “Maybe your sister made a mistake.”

  “Well, I don’t know much about it, but it sure seems like this Heathcliff fellow has made his choice,” Sydney said.

  “We can’t know why he made it,” Miss A said quickly. “Motivation here would be the important thing. Maybe he feels this is best.”

  “Best? How can this be best?” Ryan spread his hands out to encompass the empty chapel.

  “Well, he might have thought if he didn’t help Catherine, that maybe she would kill you, Miranda.” M
iss A glanced at me.

  “The gargoyle,” Hana breathed.

  “What gargoyle?” Samir asked.

  “The one that Catherine tried to drop on Miranda’s head a few weeks back,” she said.

  Miss A nodded.

  “Or he just has the hots for Cathy,” Samir said.

  “Smooth,” Hana said.

  “Sorry, Miranda,” Samir said and shrugged. “Just saying.”

  Sydney took a step closer to me and he put his hand on my shoulder. He may not be my favorite person, but he knew what it meant when someone you loved chose someone else.

  And, anyway, whatever the reason for Heathcliff’s choice, the truth was he left me. The simplest explanation was probably the right one. I could try to twist myself into knots to make sense of what Heathcliff was doing, or I could just face facts.

  A tremor rippled through the ground beneath our feet and a tiny bit of dust fell on my arm. I wiped it off, and glanced up, and that’s when I saw the large lamps hanging from the ceiling sway.

  “Whoa, what was that?” Samir clung to one of the pews as if water might rush in and sweep him away at any moment.

  Sydney put his arm protectively around me. His body tensed, and I could feel him swivel, looking for exits.

  “Earthquake?” Ryan offered.

  “There are no earthquakes in London,” Headmaster B said her voice curt with certainty.

  “I don’t think I like this,” Samir said. “Did Cyclops follow us here?”

  Another tremor rocked the chapel, this one strong enough to send Lindsay sprawling into me and to crack open the tiled floor near where we were standing. No one-eyed giant could do this.

  “Not Cyclops,” I said. “Something else.”

  I glanced up and saw Headmaster B, Coach H and Miss A exchange a look of growing concern.

  “What is it?” Lindsay asked them. “What do you think it is?”

  The three glanced at each other. They didn’t want to say.