Rachel walked away, and this time Allie let her go, glancing to either side as if there were people next to her sharing her bewilderment.

What the hell just happened?

Muttering to herself, she climbed the stairs to the girls' dorm. As she opened her bedroom door, she was so deep in thought that she didn't notice the light was already on until she saw something move.

Jumping back, she gave a small scream.

'Hey,' Carter said sleepily. 'Don't call the cops. It's just me.'

Still upset about her encounter with Rachel, Allie glared at him, her panicked heart slowly returning to normal speed.

'What are you doing in here?' Even though the wing was virtually empty, she lowered her voice to a whisper out of habit; boys weren't allowed in the girls' dorm. 'You scared the crap out of me.'

'Sorry. I was just waiting for you to get back so we could talk.' Carter's dark hair was rumpled and his face was flushed. 'I guess I dozed off. You were ages.'

'Yeah, well, first I had to talk to Isabelle and then Rachel was pissed off with me.' Her voice sounded more snappish than she intended but she couldn't seem to stop it. 'That stuff takes time.'

'Rachel was pissed off?' Carter cocked his head to one side. 'What happened?'

Without thinking, Allie launched into her account of their encounter in the hallway. 'I told her I was going to be in Night School and she ranted at me about how it would ruin my life and I was stupid and it was evil ... What's the matter?'

Carter's hands had dropped to his sides as he stared at her. 'You're going to be in Night School? Isabelle actually said that?'

Nobody was reacting the way she'd thought they would.

Where's the joy at my big opportunity? Where's the 'Yay Allie'?

'God, what's wrong with everyone?' She threw up her hands. 'Why isn't anyone happy for me?'

'I'm sorry ... I'm just surprised.' Carter seemed unsure of what to say. 'I didn't think ... We hadn't really talked ...' He pulled himself together. 'It's a big deal, Allie.'

'I know it's a big deal. I'm not a complete idiot.' Her voice rose sharply. 'And I was all excited about it until I started telling people and everybody acted like I'd just told them I had tuberculosis. Now I'm all, like ... Whatever.'

Fully aware she was the picture of self-pity, she flopped down on the bed.

After a second, Carter sat next to her and took her hand, twining his fingers between hers. Even in the midst of her misery, she liked the way his hand felt warm and strong.

'Look,' he said, 'I'm glad you're excited. I just need a couple of minutes to sort of process this. What exactly did Isabelle say?'

'She said I'd showed, like, grace under pressure, or something, in London, and that I was ... I don't know ... I had good marks. And that I needed to be able to protect myself so she was putting me in Night School on an accelerated training module.'

Carter gave a low whistle. 'Accelerated module? They never do that. Are you sure?'

Allie nodded so vigorously her hair bounced.

'Bloody hell,' he said, mostly to himself.

'What does it mean?' she asked.

'She didn't tell you?'

When she shook her head, he exhaled loudly.

'It just means you'll skip the early stuff that we all spend the first term doing, and you'll train with the most senior people.' He studied her with curious eyes, as if he was trying to figure her out. 'You'll go straight in at the deep end.'

Something in his tone made Allie nervous, and she was glad when he changed the subject. 'So, what exactly did Rachel say that pissed you off?'

Pulling her hand free, she twisted the hem of her shirt tightly around her finger, frowning with thought. 'She acted like it was this evil thing, and like she thought I was stupid for joining. She was really angry.' She added worriedly, 'Rachel never gets angry.'

He didn't seem very surprised. 'You know she doesn't approve of Night School, right?' he said. 'I mean, she's told you that. Everyone knows she's been asked to join several times and turned it down. And, I mean, nobody turns Night School down. It's a big thing between her and her dad.'

Allie's head shot up. 'What ... really? She never told me that. She just said her dad wanted her to do it and she didn't want to.'

'Yeah well ...' Carter said. 'She really hates it.'

'But why?' Allie asked. 'Why does she hate it so much?'

'Rachel's a genius, you know that. She's got political objections to it, which are totally reasonable. Night School isn't fair. Never has been. It makes things easier for rich kids like they need things to be easier for them.' He stretched out his legs. 'But I think there's more to it than that. Something to do with her dad. You should ask her.'

Worry twisted Allie's stomach. 'I hope she's not too mad at me. I didn't mean to be thoughtless. I just ... wasn't thinking.'

Carter barked a laugh then grew serious again. 'Al ...'

His tone was so hesitant she looked up at him with concern.

'I'm glad you'll learn to defend yourself, and obviously that's a good thing, but I have concerns, too. You know I don't trust the people running Night School we've talked and talked about it.' When she opened her mouth to object, he rested his finger lightly on her lips. 'I know I'm in it and I'm a total hypocrite, but I had my own reasons for joining. But that doesn't mean I want you to get caught up in it, too. It kind of scares me that you're going to be right in the middle of it now.'

'Here's the thing.' She pulled his hand away from her mouth and held it against her cheek for a second before dropping it. Then, sitting straight, she filled him in on what her mother and Isabelle had told her. When she'd told him everything she finished by saying, 'I think I've been in Night School my whole life. I just didn't know it until now. And now maybe it can help me ... I don't know ... stay safe. Stay alive.'

For a long moment Carter looked away, lost in thought. Then he turned his dark eyes back to her.

'OK.'

'OK what?' she said cautiously.

'OK Night School.' His jaw was set in a grim line. 'You need to learn to defend yourself. So, welcome to Night School. I hope you don't like it too much.'

SIX.

Somewhere in the dark distance she could hear voices calling her name. But she was running fast as fast as she could.

Soon the voices faded into silence.

The night was clear a full moon turned the forest into shades of blue as she hurtled down the footpath.

She didn't know where she was going or why she was running, but she knew she couldn't stop. Her breathing was ragged her lungs burned. Still she ran.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw something move through the trees.

It seemed to flit, like a bird, but she knew it wasn't a bird. She stopped, effortlessly.

'Who's there?' she called into the darkness then gasped when she saw someone move again. Just slow enough to be seen. Just fast enough not to be recognised.

'This isn't funny,' she called out. She'd begun to tremble. Something wasn't right. It wasn't right at all. Where was she going anyway? And why was she outside so late at night?

Suddenly, from behind her, a low, threatening growl.

With a muffled scream Allie sat bolt upright in bed. Clutching the covers to her neck, she looked around the dark room in panic. At first she was disoriented. The room wasn't familiar. Nothing was where it should be.

Then she remembered.

'Cimmeria,' she murmured, lying down again. 'I'm at Cimmeria.' She closed her eyes. 'I'm safe.'

After rushing through breakfast the next morning, Allie made an excuse to Jo and headed to the library in search of Rachel. She had to make up with her. Fighting with Rachel was absolutely not on the agenda for the first week back at school.

Just inside the library door, painters were setting up a metal forest of ladders with a clamour. Big cans of paint and fluffy pale blue rollers leaned about like fallen trees; the air already had the acrid petrol smell of white spirits.

Hurrying past them, she made her way down the long room. A wide metal table had been set up along the back wall where Eloise and Rachel were filling cardboard boxes with books. Each layer of books was separated by sheets of crisp tissue paper, and they nestled the heavy old leather tomes in as if they were fragile pieces of crystal.

Pushing her glasses back up her nose, Eloise looked at her enquiringly.

'Can I talk to Rachel for a minute?' Allie asked.

Eloise glanced back and forth between them; Rachel avoided Allie's eyes. With a sympathetic look, the librarian slid a box across the table.

'Why don't you two take this out to the truck together? It's too heavy for one person alone.'

With Allie holding one end of the box and Rachel the other, they manoeuvred through the bookcases to the back door. Outside, a white van waited, its back doors open. The driver stood a few feet away talking into a mobile phone. He paid no attention to them.

The damp morning air left a sheen of moisture on Allie's skin, like oil on water. It was quiet and grey, the only sound the crunching of their feet on the gravel drive and the driver's noncommittal, monotone voice as they slid the box on top of another just like it in the back of the van.

'I'm sorry,' Allie said suddenly. 'I didn't think about how you might feel about ... anything. I was just being selfish and ...'

Relief filled Rachel's eyes and her words flooded out in a rush. 'Me too. You have to do what's right for you. I can't expect you to be me.'

'It's just ...' Allie drew a line in the grey gravel with her toe. 'I really have to do this, Rach. Not because I believe in what it all stands for, but because of what I'll learn. I'll be able to protect myself. I'll find out more about my family if I'm on the inside. They won't be able to hide things from me any more. Maybe I'll find out what happened to Christopher, because I think they know and they're not telling me. Can you see my side of this?'

'I can.'

But Allie could hear the reluctance in Rachel's tone.

'I just wish there was another way ... for your sake. Because I think you'll get more than you bargained for once you're inside, Allie.'

Out of the corner of her eye Allie checked on the driver. He was still talking on his phone.

Seeing her glance, Rachel tilted her head towards the door. As they headed back inside she changed the subject. 'Are you working with Jo again today?'

'Painting.' Allie nodded. 'Because I'm serious about my art.'

Rachel snorted, but her expression was serious. 'How is she, do you think?'

Allie thought about Jo laughing and scrubbing walls yesterday. 'Better than I expected. She's sort of ... fine, I guess.'

'A little too fine, maybe?' As soon as Rachel said the words, Allie realised she was right.

'Do you think she's faking it?' Allie whispered. 'I mean, Isabelle's making her see a shrink and everything.'

Rachel didn't seem reassured. 'I don't want this to sound mean, but Jo's a master at manipulation and deception anybody who grew up the way she did would be. And she's just had this huge awful thing happen in her life yet she's still normal, bubbly Jo.' She shrugged. 'Something doesn't seem right. She could have one of her meltdowns. So, just ... keep an eye on her.'

Allie nodded. 'I will.'

'And be careful with all this,' Rachel gesturing vaguely, 'stuff you're getting involved with. Watch your back.'

'It's not like I'll be alone,' Allie pointed out. 'I'll have your dad to look out for me.'

She didn't like the look Rachel gave her.

'Just because he likes you, don't think he'll treat you any differently from anyone else. He's tougher than you think.'

'I'm ready,' Allie promised, wondering if she was.

'Welcome to Cimmeria Academy. All new students please line up on the left. Returning students on the right.'

Isabelle stood on a small white platform at the far end of the great hall. She wasn't shouting, but her powerful voice somehow soared above the din of two hundred chattering students. It was the first day of the autumn term, and Allie and Rachel stood in the queue on the right wearing identical crisp, white, long-sleeved shirts with dark blue crests, tucked into short, dark blue pleated skirts.

'God, I can't believe I'm saying this, but it's good to be back in this stupid uniform,' Allie said, straightening the hem of her skirt.

'I hear you.' Rachel wrinkled her nose. 'And yet I disagree.'

The two studied the new students in the queue across from them.

'They all look so young and nervous,' Allie said. 'Did I look like that when I started?'

'Of course not.' Rachel flipped her long, curly ponytail over one shoulder and quickly changed the subject. 'The place looks incredible, doesn't it?'

'Totally.' Allie followed her gaze up the walls, panelled with oak, and out into the hallway, where the polished wood floors shone and the chandeliers sparkled without a speck of dust. 'I can't believe we did it. All that work ...' She flexed her fingers and admired her healing blisters. 'There's still loads to do but at least the main stuff is finished.'

'And can I just say, TFFT,' Rachel replied. 'I've had enough book sorting and stacking, painting and sweeping to last a lifetime.'

The last ten days had been intense and non-stop. Walls had been scrubbed and painted, heavy Oriental rugs taken away to be cleaned then returned, floors polished, and furniture moved in and out of rooms endlessly. Each day involved a haze of work that had left her too tired at the end for anything except tumbling into bed. Many rooms were still being worked on, but enough of the building had been restored to allow the term to start on time.