Endgame

  Allie gave a muffled sob.

  Who knew where he was? She’d failed to keep him safe.

  Failed to protect him.

  I should have done something. But I lost him.

  Still holding the book in her arms, she slid slowly down to the floor and lowered her head to her knees.

  Carter, please be alive.

  ‘Allie Sheridan?’ The gruff voice was unfamiliar, dispassionate.

  Allie blinked awake. The world had tilted sideways. Her cheek was pressed against the rough weave of an antique Persian rug.

  Slowly she sat up and looked around blearily.

  The library.

  She could only vaguely remember coming in here. She must have fallen asleep. She still cradled a book in her arms.

  One of Raj’s guards stood at the end of the row, his expression inscrutable. ‘Isabelle le Fanult would like you to come to her office.’

  ‘She would, would she?’ Fully awake now, Allie rubbed the back of her hand across her gritty eyes. ‘Well, maybe I’m not interested in talking to her right now.’

  The guard opened his mouth, then closed it again. Clearly he hadn’t expected that.

  ‘She said it was important?’ A touch of uncertainty had entered his voice.

  It’s always important, Allie wanted to snap at him.

  But she didn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to take it out on him; this wasn’t his fault. She didn’t even know his name.

  Heaving a sigh she waved him away. ‘Fine. I’ll go see her.’

  Unable to disguise his relief, he gave a curt nod and left hurriedly, before she could change her mind.

  Allie climbed to her feet – her muscles ached from last night’s fight and from sleeping on the hard floor.

  Moving stiffly, she made her way out into the hallway. The windows were dark. Night had fallen while she slept. She’d been out for hours.

  At the foot of the grand staircase she turned to where Isabelle’s office was tucked away, the door virtually hidden in the elaborately carved oak panelling. She paused and took a deep breath. When she felt steady enough, she tapped once.

  ‘Come in.’

  The door swung open at Allie’s touch. The headmistress sat at her desk, a laptop open in front of her.

  She glanced up briefly. ‘Please have a seat.’

  Her expression gave nothing away.

  Isabelle’s antique, mahogany desk dominated the small office. Two, deep leather chairs faced it; Allie sat on the edge of the closest one.

  Isabelle typed with quick, sure movements, her gaze fixed on the screen. She’d changed out of her Night School gear into tailored dark trousers and a white silk blouse. A cardigan was draped across her shoulders. She didn’t look as pale as she had earlier. At first glance, in fact, she appeared almost… normal.

  When the seconds ticked by and she kept typing, Allie knew a message was being sent. Isabelle was reminding her who was in charge.

  As she waited, she glanced around the room. Everything was in its usual place – low cabinets lined one wall beneath a large, romantic tapestry of a knight and a maid with a white horse.

  At last, Isabelle finished whatever she was doing. She closed the laptop with a decisive click and leaned back in her chair, fixing Allie with her fierce, leonine gaze.

  ‘Raj and Dom are working flat-out to find where Nathaniel has taken Carter,’ she said without preamble. ‘I wanted you to be the first to know that we believe he is alive.’

  Something about the cool simplicity of that last sentence undid Allie. She pressed her palms against her eyes.

  He’s alive. He’s alive…

  Isabelle waited for a moment before continuing. ‘Please believe this: we will get him back. And Nathaniel will pay for what happened last night. We will get through this. And we will start over.’

  Her tone had turned ice cold and, to her own surprise, Allie found she did believe her.

  They may have been beaten in London but one thing was clear: Isabelle wasn’t giving up. Not in the slightest.

  The fight was still on.

  Dropping her hands to her lap, Allie raised her gaze. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘We don’t know that yet, but we are monitoring Nathaniel’s conversations and that has given us reason to believe Carter and the two guards are being held somewhere outside London. I suspect Nathaniel wants to use them as a bargaining chip.’

  She sounded furious. But Allie’s whole body felt lighter. As long as Carter was alive she could deal with anything.

  This burst of optimism came hand-in-hand with instant guilt for the way she’d behaved towards Isabelle that morning. The cruel things she’d said came back to her in a flood.

  Nathaniel was the enemy. Not her.

  ‘Look…’ she said hesitantly. ‘About what happened this morning —’

  Isabelle’s hand snapped up, stopping her.

  ‘Please don’t,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t your fault. I handled it very badly.’

  But Allie wasn’t about to accept that.

  ‘I was wrong,’ Allie said. ‘It was an awful night and horrible things happened but I know…’ She paused for a second before finishing. ‘I know you love him, too.’

  Spots of colour had appeared in Isabelle’s cheeks – the only sign of the tidal wave of emotion Allie suspected she was suppressing.

  ‘Yes, I do love him,’ the headmistress said. ‘Very much. And, with your help, we’ll have him back. Will you fight with me, Allie? For Carter?’

  Allie didn’t hesitate. ‘Yes.’

  Isabelle stood and walked around the desk to sit in the chair next to hers. This close, Allie could see the strain in her face. Her eyes were red-rimmed, underscored by shadows. But her expression was determined.

  ‘Allie, there have been times when, perhaps, I didn’t appreciate that this was as much your fight as it is mine. When I assumed you were too young to be involved in running this… struggle with Nathaniel,’ she said. ‘I won’t make that mistake again. You are at the heart of this. You have a right to decide what happens in your own life. And you have a right to know what my plans are.’

  She took a deep breath. ‘I’m leaving the Organisation. Leaving Cimmeria. And I’d like you to come with me.’

  The news hit Allie like a punch in the stomach. She felt winded. Betrayed.

  Abandoned.

  Hot tears prickled the backs of her eyes. For a second, she couldn’t seem to make her mouth work. ‘You’re… you’re leaving?’

  ‘We have to, Allie,’ Isabelle said gently. ‘You and me. Raj… Everyone. Whatever happens next, we have to leave Cimmeria Academy. We can wait until Nathaniel throws us out, or we can simply go. We can walk out of here on our own. I intend to do the latter.’

  The bottom had fallen out of Allie’s world.

  Do I have to lose everything?

  She wanted to run out of this room and never come back. To sit in a dark corner somewhere and lick her wounds.

  But she made herself stay.

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Her voice was thick with unshed tears. ‘Where will you go?’

  Isabelle didn’t answer the question immediately. She ran her hand affectionately across the top of her polished, mahogany desk. Her face looked pensive.

  ‘Did I ever tell you I inherited this desk from my father?’

  Puzzled by the turn the conversation had taken, Allie shook her head. She knew Isabelle and Nathaniel had the same father, different mothers. That they’d grown up together, and their father had left everything to Isabelle, even though Nathaniel was his eldest child.

  But she knew little else about her family life.

  ‘He specified it in his will.’ Isabelle’s voice was soft. ‘It had been in his office as long as I could remember. It belonged to his father before him. He left it to me.’

  She pressed her hands flat on the desktop, her eyes flashing with repressed anger.

  ‘I don’t want my half-brother to touch this desk. I cannot bear to think of him
in my school.’ She lifted her hands. ‘But the simple truth is, he has won. And we have to start thinking about how we intend to lose.’

  Too horrified and angry to be diplomatic, Allie raised her voice. ‘No, Isabelle. Don’t even say that. It’s not over. Not yet. We can’t give up. I won’t let you. Not after what he did. Not after Jo. Not after Carter.’

  Putting those two names – those two fates – in the same sentence was hard. But they were being honest with each other now. And Isabelle had to know how she felt.

  ‘Oh my dear, how can you have so little faith in me?’ The headmistress leaned back in her chair, studying her with a melancholy half-smile. ‘If there’s one thing Lucinda and I have both tried and failed to teach you, it’s how to win by losing. I think you have no choice now, except to learn this painful lesson.’

  ‘I don’t even know what that means,’ Allie snapped. She wasn’t interested in word-play right now. She needed Isabelle to stop giving up.

  ‘Then let me explain it to you.’ The headmistress held her gaze steadily. ‘First, we will lose when we leave this school. I accept that. But what you don’t understand is, I’m not giving up. I’m starting over.’

  Allie’s brow creased. ‘Starting over how?’

  ‘We will close Cimmeria Academy,’ the headmistress explained. ‘And open again with the same teachers, the same students, someplace else. Far away.’

  Allie was stunned. ‘What? You want to move the school?’

  ‘Effectively… yes.’

  ‘But… how? Where would we go?’

  ‘We have a lot of support abroad, and there are many possible locations. There’s a lovely old school in the Swiss Alps. A beautiful place, high in the mountains. It was a Victorian finishing school.’ Isabelle glanced at her father’s desk. ‘I can see us there.’

  Allie wanted to argue, but when she put it like that, it made worryingly good sense. An easy out. An end to the fighting. A fresh start. But there were flaws in the plan.

  ‘Wouldn’t Nathaniel just follow us?’

  The headmistress shrugged. ‘Possibly. But perhaps not. You see, if we left Orion and Cimmeria voluntarily, he’d have no reason to pursue us.’

  ‘Then he’s won,’ Allie said flatly.

  ‘That’s what we’d want him to think.’ Isabelle gave her a meaningful look. ‘Once we’re out of his reach we will find a way to undermine him. To destroy everything he builds. To defeat him.’

  Allie let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. She felt suddenly numb.

  ‘So the same fight would continue.’

  Isabelle shook her head emphatically.

  ‘No, Allie,’ she said. ‘A new fight would begin. For the soul of everything. With us in the drivers’ seat.’ She leaned forward. ‘This is what I mean when I talk about losing cleverly. To come back and win another day.’

  Allie hated how plausible it sounded. The idea that this war with Nathaniel could go on, even after they’d lost Cimmeria, was more than she could bear right now. With Lucinda still to be buried, and Carter…

  She straightened. ‘What about Carter? You’re not giving up on him are you? Because I won’t go anywhere without him.’

  Isabelle held up her hands. ‘No,’ she said. ‘No one is going anywhere without Carter. We need to get him back first and then we leave. That’s what I’m focusing on now. Please believe me. I would never do anything that would hurt Carter.’

  It was a good plan. Or rather, it was the least-worst plan.

  Even so, Allie hated it. You can have all kinds of fancy words for losing, but whatever you call it, you’ve still lost.

  On the other hand, getting away – starting over. That was enticing. Leaving Nathaniel behind, at least for a while. Escaping. Being safe.

  The thought was almost inconceivable. And she wanted it as much as Isabelle did.

  However, she couldn’t imagine how this could be explained to the other students. They seemed so defeated. So exhausted. If she told them Isabelle’s big plan was to lose really, really well…

  They’d give up. The way she kind of wanted to give up now.

  They had to find a way to make everyone believe losing really was victory.

  She could hear no sound at all coming from the corridor. The school was quiet as a church. So her voice seemed startlingly loud when she spoke again.

  ‘We have to get Night School going again.’

  Isabelle’s head jerked up. ‘I’m sorry?’

  Now that she’d said it, Allie knew this was the answer. ‘You’ve cancelled training, and classes,’ she said, urgency strengthening her voice. ‘Bring them back. Get everyone back to work. Right now.’

  The headmistress looked taken aback. ‘Allie, after what happened to Lucinda, I really believe we need a few days to mourn.’

  But the more she thought about it, the more Allie was certain she was right. Having nothing to do was making everyone feel hopeless.

  ‘Don’t you see? We don’t need time to cry. Crying is losing. We need to get to work. When we work – when we train in Night School – we feel powerful. We are powerful.’ She took a breath. ‘Besides. If we’re going to get Carter back we don’t have days to wait. We have to get started right now.’

  Isabelle still appeared doubtful. ‘But the teachers are exhausted. The students are demoralised…’

  Allie didn’t waver. ‘Then let the teachers sleep tonight. Tomorrow, they should teach. The students are depressed because they think we’ve lost. Worse,’ she said, ‘they think we’re giving up. We need to make them understand we’re still fighting. We still have a chance… Because we do.’

  5

  The next morning, when Allie walked down for breakfast, a hand-written notice was posted on the door of the dining hall.

  * * *

  Normal lesson schedules resume today at

  9 a.m. All students are expected to

  attend classes as per the Rules. Night

  School resumes at 8 p.m. Henceforth,

  ALL students at Cimmeria Academy

  are to train with Night School.

  THERE WILL BE NO EXCEPTIONS.

  * * *

  ‘What’s this?’

  Katie leaned over Allie’s shoulder to read the letter.

  ‘All students at Cimmeria Academy are to…’ She read the words aloud, dismay growing with every word.

  ‘Not me, of course.’ She looked at Allie, her face a perfect mask of disbelief. ‘She can’t mean me?’

  Allie knew they were friends now, and she should be sympathetic, but she grinned at her and turned into the dining hall.

  Suddenly she was ravenous.

  Katie followed on her heels, panic making her voice rise. ‘You volunteer for Night School. That’s the way it’s always been. They can’t forcibly enlist you. This isn’t the army. I am not a conscript.’

  Rachel and Nicole were already at their usual table as the two of them walked up, Katie in mid-complaint.

  Seeing Allie’s pleased expression and Katie’s outrage, Rachel’s eyebrows winged up.

  ‘Ah. You’ve seen the notice.’

  Katie turned her attention to her. ‘Rachel, I can’t be forced to join Night School, can I?’ she implored. ‘There must be a law. Freedom of… individuality. Some sort of protection. Human rights. I’m human, aren’t I?’

  Allie snorted. Rachel’s lips twitched. ‘Well…’

  ‘Oh God.’ Katie sank into the seat next to Nicole, whose long, dark hair gleamed in the light like spilled ink.

  Nicole patted her shoulder. ‘I think you’ll be very good at Night School.’

  ‘Of course I will.’ The redhead glared. ‘But I don’t want to. I’ll speak to Zelazny. He’ll put a stop to this.’ Jumping up from her seat, she sped across the room, copper-red ponytail streaming behind her.

  ‘Poor Zelazny,’ Rachel murmured, watching as she disappeared through the doorway.

  ‘He can handle her,’ Allie said.

  Rachel’s cin
namon-coloured gaze scanned her face. ‘You look a lot better. Did you sleep?’

  In fact, after her talk with Isabelle Allie had slept properly, in an actual bed, for the first time in days.

  ‘I had a talk with Isabelle,’ Allie said. ‘Cleared the air a little.’

  ‘Did you learn anything new? Any news on Carter?’

  Allie filled Rachel in on what she knew. The other girl absorbed this with less joy than Allie’d expected.

  ‘But nothing concrete?’ Her brow creased. ‘They don’t know where he is?’

  Her doubt was instantly deflating. Rachel was one of Allie’s smartest friends. If she didn’t believe Carter was fine…

  Allie didn’t want to think about that.

  ‘Anyway,’ she continued firmly, ‘I told Isabelle we should get back to work…’

  Nicole leaned over. ‘Are you responsible for lessons beginning again?’

  ‘Was it Allie?’ Zoe walked up to the table with Lucas. ‘Way to go, Allie!’

  She emphasised her happiness with an air-kick that barely missed a nearby table of younger students. Allie hadn’t even noticed they were there until they ducked.

  ‘Don’t kill the little ones,’ Rachel chided Zoe mildly.

  Zoe blinked at them, as if she, too, had failed to note their existence.

  ‘Hi Zoe,’ a boy at the table said shyly. He had glasses, olive skin and wavy dark hair and looked at Zoe with undisguised admiration.

  She fixed him with a blank stare until his cheeks flushed and he turned back to his breakfast.

  ‘Whoever did it is a hero.’ Lucas pretended to punch Zoe who promptly punched him back for real.

  Lucas clutched his arm. ‘Ow! Dammit, Shortie,’ he complained. ‘You have to work on your anger control.’

  ‘Don’t call me Shortie,’ Zoe replied, unrepentant.

  ‘So Night School starts tonight.’ Rachel raised her voice, in an attempt to restore order. ‘And this time every student left in the school’s going to be there. And every teacher. What’s that going to be like?’

  A determined smile spread slowly across Allie’s face.

  ‘A start.’