Animal
Page 8
Right now, we are all lined up on benches in the ‘Trainee Hall’, which is basically a massive gym. There’s a big mat and we are kitted out in navy blue tracksuits. I look down at my blue trainers in dismay. Lady Muldoon sweeps past and informs us that today we will ‘engage in some one-on-one combat’, something about checking our ability to balance attack and defence. Shadow sits perfectly still at the edge of the mat, a noble look on his face. My heart drops as she waves a little whistle in the air and tells us the only rules are to cease fighting if we hear it, and to raise one hand if we want to stop. I sit sandwiched between James and Ben. The first name called out is Heather Jackson. As she shimmies up to the mat James’ mouth falls open.
‘That is one hot cupcake right there,’ he says, his eyes like saucers. ‘Damn.’
I roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest.
‘You can’t call her a cupcake, she’s a person,’ I grumble.
But somehow I don’t think Heather could care less if someone refers to her as a cupcake. She has customized the outfit to her advantage. She’s discarded the tracksuit top and tied the blue t-shirt in at the waist which makes her chest appear all the more curvy and her waist all the slimmer, revealing a flash of bare skin which is smooth and tanned. She wears red lipstick, making her lips appear lush as freshly washed cherries. As she ties her big curls up into a ponytail Lady Muldoon calls out the next name. Nina Gregory. For a split second I sit looking for this this person… then my heart drops like a lead balloon as I realise that she means me. There’s not much I can do apart from rise warily from the bench, with Ben and James whispering well wishes. Heather has her hands on her hips by the time I get to the mat and she squints her eyes, scrolling me up and down. I couldn’t help but notice that yesterday, this girl met every challenge with ease, finishing in the top three sometimes.
Am I supposed to fight her? She looks ready and willing enough, turning towards me with a sly grin on her face. I feel the eyes of the whole group on us. I have to act fast. All I can think of are those Kung Fu lessons. The stuff Mum used to go on about. What was it? Tiger hands? I rack my brains, trying to remember but there is little time to formulate a plan before I hear the whistle peep and I am in the first fight of my life. Heather’s eyebrows furrow and she raises her chin. Then she kicks me in the chest, with one astonishingly quick move. I am thrown back by its power, the wind knocked out of me. I gasp for air. This is definitely not her first fight.
I have to remember the moves. What was it? Punch from the hips? Use my hips? Something! I lunge forward, with a right-armed punch that has nothing to do with my hips but it does land on her shoulder. She looks down at the spot where I hit her for a second, whilst I stagger backwards. Then she turns to me once again. A look flashes across her face and then she sort of swirls, and kicks me again, swift and accurate. It hurts. I cry out. She does the swirl again and before I know it she has punched me in the stomach with an uppercut that has me flapping on the floor like a fish thrown out of water. Could it be over that quick? Through a daze I hear the sound of laughter. I lie there writhing. The whistle is blown. Heather looks down at me for a few seconds, her red nails on her hips again.
‘It’s no fun when it’s that easy,’ she purrs.
I consider kicking her in the shins but her shapely legs disappear before I can move. Shadow’s face appears, his wet nose within inches of my own, his long, white whiskers brushing across my cheek. He places a paw on my chest and all I can do is lie here, unresponsive. Then Lady Muldoon hangs over me and enquires if I need to go to the infirmary, but after a minute, the dizziness and sense of impending doom passes and I haul myself up from the ground, hold my stomach and limp back to the benches where the others sit. James and Ben give me sympathetic smiles. I flop down next to them. Ben pats me gently on the shoulder. All I can do is shake my head. Where has my dignity gone?
This just highlights, in no uncertain terms, that Lady Muldoon was right. I don’t stand a chance of rescuing Kelci, not like this. I would make the situation worse. All Heather had to do was kick me a couple of times… The next two called up are Rodriguez, a big-chinned, dark-complexioned guy and Galina, a Russian girl with a heart-shaped face and very long fingers. After a bout of tussling, Galina wins by trapping Rodriguez in an uncomfortable looking headlock. For the next fight, James is called first. He stands up immediately, runs a hand over his hair and begins puffing his cheeks in and out, so rapidly I worry he might hyperventilate.
‘I got this, I got this,’ he says, frowning at the ground.
‘You do, you got this,’ I say.
He darts over to the mat then bounces on the balls of his feet, like boxers do and raises his fists in front of his face and throws air punches. Lady Muldoon calls the second name, ‘Alisdair McDowell’. The eye-rolling guy. Alisdair. I never met anyone with that name before. He looks confident, ready. Heather leans forward.
‘Go, Alisdair,’ she croons.
Please!
The whistle blows and the fight begins. James does a good job of jumping around and dodging the first punches, however it isn’t long before Alisdair floors him with one painful looking jab to the cheek. The whistle goes again, then all you can hear is James moaning on the mat. Alisdair leans down and tries to help him back to his feet, but James flaps his arms about. It takes a while but Alisdair persists, and eventually manages to help James up, as he holds his cheek, grumbling. Alisdair holds out his hand and, eventually, it is taken and the two of them shake hands then return to the benches.
The next names are called. Ben Hult and Dominic Federov. I gulp. The two of them didn’t get off to a great start; on account of me.
Ben hulks his impressive frame to the mat as Dominic strides up, lithe-limbed. Yes, Dominic is smaller, well everyone is smaller than Ben, but there’s something creepy about the guy. Maybe it’s the way his nose slants down towards his delicate lips, or his unnerving stare. Lady Muldoon gives a shrill blast on the whistle and the two of them glare at each other for a few seconds. I find myself edging forwards on the bench, willing Ben to do well. He makes the first move, diving forwards, but Dominic is light on his feet and he sidesteps the swipe.
‘Who is this guy?’ says Dominic, turning towards us for a second. ‘Does anyone actually know who this guy is?’
I groan as he turns back.
‘Who are you?’ he says.
Ben lunges forward again but Dominic jabs with his right hand and hits Ben in the face, so fast you can hardly see it happen. Ben’s grunt echoes around the hall as he sways on his feet.
‘Damn!’ cries James, jumping up.
Dominic laughs.
‘This little guy knows you.’
James hops up and down, looking like he wants to join the fight himself.
‘Sit down,’ says Lady Muldoon, glaring.
I stand up, and pull James back to the bench as he spits threats and insults.
‘He can handle it,’ I say, hoping I’m right.
Ben regains his balance then launches again but Dominic slips away, then darts around his back, hits him on the other side of his face. James and I groan.
‘I’ve been getting ready for this all my life,’ says Dominic. ‘What have you been doing?’
Ben’s face grows a shade darker. He lets out a low growl and stamps forward, shoving at Dominic who falls back a few steps. A murmur rises up from the benches.
‘Yes!’ says James.
But Dominic quickly finds his balance and resumes his dance. He jabs again, hitting Ben in the neck, then darts away, comes back and tries again but is blocked by Ben’s enormous arm. Ben swipes with his other arm and Dominic bends down to avoid it. I can see that Ben is trying to keep his opponent in his sights but it is hard for him, and tiring. Sweat is forming in beads on his forehead whilst Dominic looks fresh. The whole group gets louder and louder as the fight goes on, not to mention James who is practically screaming. Lady Muldoon watches intently from the sidelines, holding tight on to her whistle.
I can’t help shouting out.
‘Don’t listen to him, Ben! Come on.’
‘Yeah, come on,’ goads Dominic, trying to imitate my voice. ‘Your cheerleader wants you to block me out…’
Ben lurches again, faster this time, but Dominic drops to the ground and rolls away, only to jump back onto his feet and punch Ben in the jaw, hard. There’s a collective gasp.
‘But a guy like you can’t help but listen to a guy like me.’
I throw my head back in despair. Ben’s hands clasp his jaw. He let’s out a deep snarling noise.
‘What a waste of all that power,’ says Dominic, shaking his head.
Ben steps back and for one moment I think he’s about to raise his arm and surrender, but then he lets go of his jaw. He takes another step back and crouches with one knee to the ground. His eyes don’t leave Dominic. My heart thumps in my chest What is he doing?
‘Quiet!’ he roars, his voice resounding across the hall.
He slams his hand down and there’s a deep thwack, followed by a crumbling sound. He’s smashed through the mat and left a great dent in the floor! The entire room goes silent. Another few seconds pass, and Dominic stares at him. Then Ben throws himself forward, so hard and so fast there’s a loud ‘smack’ as they meet. A look of shock lights up Dominic’s face as he finds himself pelted to the ground. He places his hands either side of him, then fury fills his face. He doesn’t say anything else. All you can see is his eyes, turning from brown to blood red. I gasp, and so does everyone else. His eyes are glowing like hot embers. He pushes himself up onto his feet. Then, so quickly I can barely see it happening, he spits at Ben. I can’t see what he spits, I can just hear the cry as it hits Ben’s chest, burning and sizzling through his tracksuit top.
‘He’s manifesting!’ cries James.
‘No!’ I say, dismayed.
Not him. Ben seems to have been sent completely over the edge. He lunges towards Dominic, full force, and I wince as he meets him head on and Dominic is lifted from the ground, flying through the air like a rag doll. I can hardly watch as he is thrown way down the length of the gym, then lands with a thud. Dominic wriggles about on the floor as Ben stands before us, chest heaving. I swear he is growing, actually growing. I catch my breath.
‘Ben’s manifesting too,’ I whisper.
James and I look at each other in stunned silence. Dominic scrambles to his feet and runs to the mat, visibly seething. Lady Muldoon blows the whistle, but Dominic ignores it and looks as though he is about to spit more venom. Lady Muldoon strides over to him and places her hand on his chest.
‘This is the end,’ she says. ‘No more.’
He backs down, breathless. She turns to us, Dominic on her left, eyes radiating, and Ben on her right, his top burnt away to reveal his bare chest beneath, which is astonishingly sun-kissed and sculpted.
‘And so we have our first manifestations of the program,’ she says. ‘A Bear and a Snake.’
The silence continues for a few more moments, then the whole place erupts into applause. As I stand up, clapping, I can’t help wondering… Could that ever happen to me?
12. A History Lesson
Four days since Kelci was taken, Trainee Quarters
It is time for our first theory lesson. In order to attend this theory lesson, we need to venture up into the main Academy building. As soon as we are told this, by a man named Professor Dunedin, a ripple of excitement runs through the group. We follow the professor up a steep, wide set of stairs that are made of smooth, cool stone. He looks a bit like a young Granddad in his brown and green cardigan. He’s a Frog, my first real life Frog. I try to imagine him jumping from skyscraper to skyscraper like in our comic strips but it’s impossible to imagine with that cardigan and the wiry glasses clinging to his nose. When he talks I get the feeling this might be his first attempt at teaching. He speaks softly, with a slightly nervous edge and it seems like he doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands; he constantly puts them in his pockets or runs them through his sandy hair, which flops over his face.
Eventually we reach a landing which is bare apart from a large door made of swirls of intertwining wood. The professor pushes the door open and we funnel through, a mass of navy blue overalls. Once through the door, with Ben and James next to me, what we see catches our breaths in our mouths. We find ourselves in a corridor that is so big it is more like a long hall, filled with Apprentices dashing this way and that. The ceiling is high and arched and there are bright paintings up there – eagles twisting through the sky, rabbits standing watch, foxes creeping, bears beating their chests, a snow leopard; all the animals. There are archways carved out of the opposite wall too, 12 of them, each containing a circular window made from stained glass – each window a different combination of colours – lime green merges to yellow, pink turns to grey then white, black fades to orange. The colours of the different Houses? We all stand there, gaping. I look closer and see that etched in the windows are the outlines of the same symbols I saw in the plane, the same symbols tattooed on my parents’ backs – one of each animal curled inside the circles.
‘Welcome to Theory,’ says Professor Dunedin, hands behind his back. ‘Where Apprentices, regardless of House, come to study.’
Bodies swoop past us and all we seem able to do is stand here, amidst the whirlwind. There’s so much colour, so much light, so much life up here. Who knew?
‘Apprentices are usually between the ages 14 to 19, sometimes younger and sometimes older. For Theory, the younger ones wear the uniforms, in their House colours.’
He points to a group of doe-eyed girls wearing dark purple blazers and pleated skirts with silver lines running along the edges. They all have long, shiny hair and move gracefully.
‘Deer,’ he says.
They whisper to each and look at Alisdair as they approach, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
‘Hello, Professor Dunedin,’ they all chime in perfect unison as they float past.
‘Hello, ladies,’ he replies, nodding awkwardly.
He turns back to us.
‘The older ones wear the jackets.’
He points to a tall guy wearing a lightweight black jacket and black trousers, with fiery orange lines along the arms and a bag across his shoulders.
‘A Tiger,’ I say to Ben and James. ‘Black and orange. Like my mum.’
‘That’s right,’ says Professor Dunedin, looking at me. ‘A Tiger.’
He smiles, the corners of his eyes creasing kindly. Suddenly, a guy bumps into my arm. He turns around to apologise as he stomps along holding a leather-bound notebook. He wears a black tie and his eyes are so dark they look black too.
‘A Bear,’ says James. ‘Am I right?’
‘I’d say so,’ I reply.
‘One of yours,’ he says, nudging Ben.
A boy and girl with golden hair that ends with sea-blue tips, glance at us whilst deep in conversation.
‘Oooh! Fish!’ says Lucy, bursting with excitement.
‘You got it,’ says the professor.
Just like Dad. I want to stay here. I think we all do. But Professor Dunedin guides us along the marble floor made multi-coloured by the light shining through the windows, as Apprentices dive into their classrooms. I hear accents from all over the world – Africa, Europe, South America, the Far East.
‘Apprentices study espionage, strategy, world politics, Anitar History, mission technique,’ he explains, as we move along amongst it all. ‘And more.’
Without warning, two figures swoop over our heads, flying in the space below the arched ceiling, holding books across their chests and wearing brown uniforms edged with gold. We stop in our tracks to stare at them.
‘Eagles,’ says the professor.
I watch them soar over everyone, two guys. A red-haired boy with a spattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks, and a slim boy, long-necked and graceful
. They both land lightly on the floor and I see the red-haired guy’s wide-set eyes, shining gold, and the thickness of his hair. He bows his head to the other boy as they part to enter two different doors.
‘This entire floor is devoted to Theory.’
A crowd of boys and girls bound along together, their heads all in a huddle.
‘Rabbits!’ says Rodriguez.
My heart soars and aches all at the same time. They have exactly the same white-blonde hair as Kelci. She should be here. We pass a wide set of doors with the word ‘Operations’ etched into the wood panel above.
‘What’s in there?’ says Lucy.
The Professor coughs into his fist, frowning a little.
‘We won’t be going up there today. What goes on here isn’t all strictly Academy business. In fact we won’t be going up there any day during the Manifestation Program, Operations is strictly out of bounds to Trainees.’
Lucy listens with fascination and my ears prick up too. What did Artemiz say? Muldoon Academy is the centre of the Anitar world and anything that is worth knowing is right there. Could there be something that might help me find Kelci through those doors? Lucy gives me a look; it’s clear she’s wondering the exact same thing. But before I have a chance to dwell on it, Professor Dunedin leads us through another, smaller one of the ornate doors and we find ourselves in a classroom with the same arched windows as the rest of the Academy, as though they have been carved out of the thick walls, with their organic, swirling patterns. He picks up a remote control from the desk and announces that today, we will receive our introduction to Anitar History. He turns out the lights and presses a button on the remote. A picture appears on a large screen at the front – the Professor with a group of guys who all look similar to him, smiling at the camera, everyone putting their thumbs up.