'Bloody hell, Allie.' He walked a few steps away then turned back to face her. 'Why didn't you at least warn me? Now I look like a ... I don't know. Liar? Murderer?'

Aghast, she shook her head with fierce insistence. 'No, Carter. Isabelle would never think that. They're just surprised you didn't mention it they know you're not ...'

'Do they?' He crossed his arms. 'Thanks to you I think they're not so certain of that any more.'

Her shoulders slumped and the pounding in her head grew exponentially louder. She'd messed this up, too. Why couldn't she do anything right?

'I'm so sorry, Carter. That was the last thing I wanted to happen. I just didn't know what else to do.' She tried to read his expression to see how much trouble he was in. 'What are they going to do to you?'

'Nothing,' he muttered. 'I mean not really. Isabelle was angry. And she told me she was disappointed in me. That I should know better. The usual. But you're right. I don't think she suspects me of anything.'

The tightness in her chest eased he wasn't in real trouble. 'I'm sorry, Carter. It's all my fault. I did the wrong thing. I know it sounds stupid but I was trying to help.'

And I trusted my instincts. Always an idiotic thing to do.

'Damn it, Allie.' He seemed to be calming down now and he walked back towards her. 'Just be careful, OK? You can do a lot of damage trying to help.'

She nodded miserably. 'Do you believe me, though? That I didn't mean to get you in trouble?'

'Of course I believe you.' The question seemed to puzzle him and he pulled her into a rough hug. 'You wouldn't lie to me.'

After that, the throbbing in her head was making it hard to think, so Allie escaped to her room. When the door closed behind her, she glanced at the clock.

Eight-thirty. If she was going to be any use to Sylvain tonight she needed to get some rest. Setting her alarm for eleven-thirty she lay down on the bed.

But the moment her eyes closed, last night's events played out for her like a film. She'd stayed in Sylvain's room for hours while they plotted out what they would do tonight. It had been odd to feel so comfortable, curled up across from him on the bed, wearing his pyjamas, as he sketched out for her on a piece of paper her precise route for tonight. But the longer they talked the more relaxed she felt.

She didn't realise she'd fallen asleep. Just, one minute she was awake and Sylvain was sketching the forest on to the map and talking about footpaths and the next minute she was sitting in the dining room, and Gabe was staring at her through the window.

The room was completely empty aside from her, Sylvain and Carter. Turning to Carter, Allie grabbed his arm, pointing at Gabe.

'There! He's right there!'

But he couldn't see him, and he shook his head, a worried look on his face. 'What are you talking about, Allie? There's no one there.'

When she looked back to the window, Gabe wasn't there any more. Instead, he was inside the dining room.

Walking towards them.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she spun to face Sylvain, her nails digging into his arm. 'Can't you see Gabe? He's right there.'

'Of course I can see him, Allie,' Sylvain said calmly. 'He's standing right next to you.'

She didn't know if her own scream woke her or Sylvain, who held her by the shoulders, shaking her. 'Wake up, Allie.'

'Sylvain?' Her eyes scanned the room wildly. 'Where am ...?' Then she remembered and her speeding heart slowed. 'I fell asleep.'

The overhead light was off, although the desk lamp still cast a soft circle of light. At some point he'd put the papers away and covered her with a blanket.

'You were talking in your sleep.' Sleep and worry thickened his accent. 'Were you dreaming about Gabe?'

At the mention of his name, she shuddered. 'He was in my dream. Nobody could see him except you and me. He was going to kill us.'

Propped up on his elbow beside her, Sylvain smoothed her hair out of her face. 'It was just a bad dream. You're safe.' His fingers were soft against her skin as her heavy eyelids fluttered shut.

This is wrong.

She sat up. 'I have to go back to my room.'

He hadn't tried to talk her out of it. Instead, he'd walked with her down a staircase, through empty narrow corridors she'd never seen before and up another servants' staircase to the girls' dorm. Their bare feet padded conspiratorially on the cold wood floors. She was terrified of being caught but he'd seemed undaunted. 'Nobody ever goes this way except students sneaking into each other's rooms,' he'd said. And she wondered how many girls' rooms he'd visited.

Just outside the door to the girls' dormitory wing, they'd stopped, and she'd looked up at him. He leaned in close she could feel his breath warm on her cheek.

'You're certain you want to do this?' he'd whispered, his eyes serious.

Not trusting her voice, she nodded.

'OK then. Until tonight.'

At eleven-thirty the alarm woke Allie from confused dreams. She was instantly alert; her heart thudding in her ears.

It's time.

Moving efficiently, she pulled on the warm clothes she'd set out earlier, wrapping a dark scarf around her neck and buttoning up a navy blue pea coat.

The hallway was silent and dark when she opened her bedroom door at ten minutes to midnight. She crept silently down the hallway towards the same narrow staircase she'd used the night of the fire.

Her hand was on the doorknob when a sound behind her made her freeze.

'Allie?' Jules clicked on a flashlight, momentarily blinding her. 'What are you doing?'

Allie scrambled for an excuse; an explanation. A lie. But her mind was blank.

Where on earth could she legitimately be going at this hour, with one hand on the stairwell door?

'Jules, please don't tell anyone,' she said. 'But I have to go.'

The prefect's eyes narrowed. 'Allie, you must be joking. You know The Rules. You can't leave the dorm after eleven without special permission. Where are you going?'

'I have to meet someone.' Even as she said the words Allie knew how bad that sounded and she hastened to add, 'It's not what you think; it's very important.'

Jules took a step towards her and Allie marvelled that her perfect white-blonde bob was smooth as silk, even at this hour.

'Is it Carter?' she whispered. 'Are you going to meet him?'

Allie shook her head, mutely.

A suspicious frown lined Jules' forehead. 'Then who is it?'

'Sylvain,' Allie whispered. As soon as she said his name, colour flooded her cheeks for some reason, as if she were on her way to an illicit assignation.

Puzzled, Jules lowered the torch a little. 'I don't understand. Why are you sneaking out to see Sylvain?' Her eyes widened. 'Are you two ...?'

'No!' Thinking about last night, Allie could hear the panic in her own retort. 'No, he's just ... helping me with something. Jules, listen, I know you'll need to report this and that's fine but please don't do it until morning. I'll take my punishment then. I promise you we're not doing anything wrong or totally weird. He's just helping me.' She searched Jules' eyes for understanding. 'Please, Jules.'

With a click, Jules turned off the torch. 'I hope this is worth it, Allie. I won't say anything until morning. But that's all I can do. And, later, I'd really like one of you to tell me what the hell is going on.'

Allie took a deep relieved breath. 'Thank you, Jules. I owe you.'

'Yes, you bloody do,' the prefect said tartly. 'Pay me back by not getting into trouble tonight, OK?'

The twisted truth had come so easily, Allie didn't even feel guilty. If everything went to plan, Jules would never know a thing. Nobody would. Nobody would get into trouble. Everything would be fine.

Allie dashed down the narrow staircase, emerging several storeys later in the crypt. Using the small, light pocket torch Sylvain had given her, she crossed the darkened, ancient chamber. Alone and in the dark it was much creepier than it had been in a crowd of girls with the lights on. Quickly, she found her way to the short staircase leading outside.

The whole time she was fighting the fear that threatened to squeeze her heart until it couldn't beat any more.

When she located the low door and her shaking fingers turned the handle, she stumbled out into the cold night air, the tightness in her chest loosening with relief.

I've done the hardest part, she reassured herself. But she knew that wasn't true.

She and Sylvain had plotted out every step she would take, but they both knew Raj's security guards patrolled the grounds nightly. And there was no way to predict where they would be. Sylvain believed Christopher had chosen this night and this time for a reason.

'I think he is certain Raj's team won't be there, or at least they won't encounter us.' He'd frowned as he said it. 'In a way that worries me more than anything.'

Still, they couldn't be certain of any of that, and Allie crouched low as she darted through the darkness into the woods. With her torch tucked away in her pocket, her instincts guided her through the shadows.

She followed the path Sylvain had told her about around the east side of the property, near the fence line. This footpath wasn't as heavily used as the main path to the chapel and Allie was forced to move slowly to avoid tripping over the rocks and branches that cluttered her way.

The rain had ended at last. The night was cold and clear a crescent moon shone brightly in a sky dusted with stars. But moonlight couldn't penetrate through the tree canopy, and the path was muddy, and Allie cursed silently as she splashed into a puddle she couldn't see. An icy breeze blew through the trees, and high above her head night birds grumbled. In the distance a fox screeched.

The noises were normal, but still, Allie felt a prickle of fear raise the hairs on the back of her neck. She had the strangest sense of being watched.

Picking up her speed, she tried to put the bad feeling behind her. Sylvain was out there somewhere, she knew. Maybe it was him.

They'd agreed that they would leave the building separately he would depart before her and then watch for her from a hiding place. Once she was in the woods, he said, 'I will be with you all the time. You won't be able to see me, but trust that I will be there.'

I trust you, Sylvain, she thought. And then, conflictingly: Please be there.

As she rounded a bend, she was forced to clamber over a downed tree blocking the path. Her heart pounded until she got across it, she was vulnerable. Panic made her careless and she crashed through the branches on the far side.

Once she'd made it to the other side, she could see the church wall ahead. Turning off the footpath before the churchyard, she made her way through the trees, moving carefully. Dried ferns brushed her fingertips like feathers, rustling softly with her every step. She could hear water rushing nearby.

As Sylvain had promised, on the far side of the church a narrow path led down to the stream and she followed it down to the water's edge. As she neared the creek bank, the trees opened up and moonlight illuminated the muddy shore. She was standing where Isabelle had stood last summer to meet Nathaniel.

Now she stood alone, peering into the darkness for any sign of her brother but the woods stood silent. The stream itself was swollen to nearly three times the size it had been the last time she'd been here. The heavy rains had fed it nearly to the breaking point; now it was a mini-river, whose waters rushed by her feet.

Down the stream a stepping-stone bridge was almost completely submerged. As she watched the water rush past it in a violent torrent it occurred to her that it would be fun to hop across that bridge on a hot summer day; the kind of day when you secretly hope to fall in.

'Allie.'

Christopher stood on the far bank, watching her with steady grey eyes exactly like her own.

'Oh.' Seeing him, she felt real, physical pain. Covering her mouth with her hand, she fought back tears.

He looked so much older. His unruly, light brown hair had been cut severely short, and he seemed taller, she thought. When she knew him, T-shirts and jeans had been his constant uniform. Now he wore a suit and tie, and the dark suit jacket covered the broad shoulders of a man.

Then he smiled and she could see the sixteen-year-old who'd helped her with her homework and met her after school. 'I knew you wouldn't let me down.'

'Christopher, I've missed you so much.' Through tears, she smiled back at him. 'I had to make sure you were OK. Your hair is ... so short.'

She couldn't believe that was what she'd come up with to say to her long-lost brother, and colour flooded back into her face.

But he didn't seem to notice. 'You've grown up into such a beautiful girl,' he said. 'No wonder all the boys are in love with you. And I hear your grades are aces. I'm so proud of you, Allie-cat.'

As he spoke, Allie wondered how he knew those things about her, but then he used his old pet name for her and all other thoughts flew away.

'Oh, Chris, I miss you,' she said, reaching out towards him with empty hands. 'Why did you have to go?'

The smile disappeared from his face. 'You know by now, don't you?'

She shook her head. 'I have no idea. I mean, I know Lucinda Meldrum is our grandmother, and that Mum went to school here and didn't tell us but that's ...'

'So you know she lied to us our whole lives.' The recognisable Christopher was gone now, replaced by an angry man who glared across the water at her. 'And that she and Isabelle conspired to keep us in the dark about our own family. And that now our grandmother ...' he spat the word out with contempt '... is denying us our family heritage. You do know that. Right?'

'Christopher, wait a second. Wait, wait, wait.' Allie tried to cut through the stream of vitriol. 'I don't ... How is Lucinda denying us our heritage?'

'She refuses to acknowledge us as her family, Allie,' he said. 'How can you not know this? It's all because of Isabelle. You see, Allie,' he took a step closer to the water's edge moonlight turning his face ghostly pale 'Isabelle has a plan. This is what I need to tell you. She's wheedled herself into Lucinda's good graces, effectively replacing our mother. The last thing Isabelle wants now is for two kids to come along real blood relatives and take their rightful place as Lucinda's heirs. So she's keeping you at Cimmeria where she can control you completely.'

His face was twisted with rage, and she held her breath as she watched him. He looked deranged, she thought, her heart heavy in her chest.

'Well, I'm not going to be a part of their little game,' he continued. 'Nathaniel has a plan, Allie. A good one. He's going to take the power back from Isabelle completely. Get her out of the picture. He's going to get rid of the people who've run the organisation for the last twenty years and then ...' He squeezed his hands into fists. 'Then things will change around here.'

Sickened, Allie was suddenly glad of the water running between them.

'Are you sure he's the one to trust, Christopher?' She kept her tone cautious but steady. 'I mean, why trust him and not Isabelle? I find it hard to believe Isabelle's power hungry like-'

'Oh, Allie, don't be ridiculous.' Christopher cut her off. 'Look around you. Where are you? You're at a preparatory school for kings, prime ministers, bankers ... These people will run the world one day, and Isabelle is their figurehead and you don't think she's power hungry?' His voice rose in disbelief. 'Bollocks. She's power hungry all right. She's hungrier than anybody.'

Stubbornly, Allie shook her head. 'You don't know her, Chris. She's not like that. She really cares about me ... about our family.'

'Oh she does, does she?' The heat that had fired his previous words was gone, replaced by ice. 'Then ask yourself this: Why did she lie about Ruth's death? And whatever happened to Ruth's body anyway? And if you died, what would she do with yours?'

All the oxygen seemed to leave her lungs, as if he'd punched her. The one thing she couldn't explain away the one thing she couldn't understand about Isabelle was Ruth. Ruth was murdered at the summer ball, by Gabe. And Isabelle had covered it up. She'd knowingly willingly told everyone it was a suicide. Ruth's parents had either believed her or gone along with it. Everybody for ever would think Ruth killed herself, and Allie could not accept it. It just wasn't right.

But ... how did Christopher know that?

Suddenly grief crashed over her like a wave. Must everything she cared about be taken away from her? Must everyone she trusted be a liar?