The Forest of Lost Souls (20 page)

C
LINGING TO
D
RAGOMIRA’S ARM
, Z
OE FELT VERY
APPREHENSIVE
about the new term. She wasn’t as anxious as she’d been last year at the same time when she’d just started her new school, but she still couldn’t wait for the day to end. She tossed back her blonde hair and tightened her uniform tie, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. Dragomira was also unhappy: it would have been so much better if Oksa and Gus had been Disimpictured in time to go back to school. She’d waited until the last moment to tell Mr Bontempi, the Headmaster of St Proximus. Officially, the two children were stuck on the other side of the world, confined to bed by an exotic and highly contagious disease. Bringing them back too soon might have serious implications for their health… Fortunately, Mr Bontempi hadn’t lost the open-mindedness that seemed to develop magically as soon as Dragomira addressed him, and he scurried over to greet her as soon as he saw her entering the school’s magnificent paved courtyard.

“My respects to you, my dear Mrs Pollock!” he exclaimed, kissing her beringed hand. “How are you? And how are our two invalids?”

“Much better, thank you,” replied Dragomira, favouring him with a lingering gaze. “Although they’re still not well enough to travel back to England or join their class in the next few days.”

“Let’s hope they can come back soon,” said the Headmaster. “Where are they exactly? I know you told me, but it must have gone in one
ear and out the other. One of the pitfalls of old age,” he added with a laugh.

“I know exactly what you mean, my dear Mr Bontempi,” agreed Dragomira with a charming smile. “I have the same problem. So, before I forget your question—and perhaps the answer as well—let me remind you that Oksa and Gus are in a small hospital in Kota Kinabalu, in the Borneo archipelago. My son Pavel and Pierre Bellanger are with them.”

“Good, good,” nodded Mr Bontempi. Then, turning to Zoe, he continued:

“So, Miss Evanvleck, it will be your job to help your friends catch up.”

“That’s what I’m intending to do,” nodded Zoe. “You can count on me.”

“Excellent. Anyway, it’s very good of you to bring this young lady to school today, Mrs Pollock.”

Dragomira hesitated for a second, which only Zoe noticed, then announced matter-of-factly:

“Perhaps you didn’t know that Zoe is my great-niece?”

Zoe Evanvleck? Dragomira Pollock’s great-niece? But Mr Bontempi had thought she was Dr McGraw’s great-niece! He looked surprised and spent a few seconds digesting this new fact, brow furrowed, trying to work out any ramifications he might have missed.

“No, I didn’t know that,” he replied, taken aback. “Does that mean that Dr McGraw was a member of your family?” he asked uncertainly.

He couldn’t believe it had taken him this long to realize that the Pollocks were related to Dr McGraw. He’d never warmed to that sarcastic disciplinarian who’d terrorized students and colleagues alike. There was no denying he’d been an excellent science teacher who’d come with glowing references, but there was something disturbing about the man and he’d always made Mr Bontempi feel uneasy. No one had jumped for joy at the news of the car crash that had claimed his life a few months ago, but no one had been terribly upset either. The Headmaster looked again at Dragomira, who was startlingly beautiful in her garnet-coloured silk dress.

“That woman is the polar opposite of McGraw,” he thought and, as if she could read his mind, she said:

“Yes, we were distantly related… but we didn’t really have much contact with each other, as we didn’t see eye to eye, you understand,” she explained confidentially. “Oh, isn’t that Miss Heartbreak over there?”

Mr Bontempi turned round and his eyes brightened when he
spotted
the smartly dressed young woman chatting to some students in the middle of the courtyard.

“She looks well!” remarked Zoe, pleased to see her history and
geography
teacher again.

“Thanks to your wonderful great-aunt’s talents as a herbalist,” added Mr Bontempi, leaning towards Zoe.

He straightened up and took Dragomira’s hand, which he pressed warmly.

“I shall be eternally grateful for everything you’ve done for Benedicta, Mrs Pollock,” he said, sounding choked. “I’ll never question the healing properties of plants again. You see before you a total convert to
alternative
medicine!” he added with a laugh. “Well, it must be time for me to take my place on the rostrum. The students are waiting… My humble respects, Mrs Pollock. See you soon, Miss Evanvleck.”

He saluted them briefly and headed over to the rostrum erected in front of the cloister bordering the courtyard. Before she followed him, Zoe glanced inquisitively at Dragomira.

“I didn’t know you’d been called in to help Miss Heartbreak.”

“I couldn’t leave the poor woman in that state!” exclaimed Dragomira with a jingle of her intricate perch-shaped earrings. “I offered my help to Mr Bontempi, who accepted, although he was a little sceptical at first. As you can see, it didn’t take long to win him over.”

“Does she remember… everything?” asked Zoe, a little concerned that the sweet-natured teacher might recall Orthon’s terrible attack.

“Good Lord, no!” cried Dragomira, her hand pressed to her heart. “Let’s just say that she has selective amnesia about a certain episode.”

Zoe gave her an amused smile.

“What’s up with you, young lady?” asked the old lady, her eyes sparkling.

“I’ve never seen anyone—” Hesitating, she left the sentence unfinished.

“Lie as well as I do?” continued Baba Pollock. “I know, sweetheart, I know… Would you believe me if I told you it’s not something I’m proud of? Unfortunately, though, lying is part of the survival instinct of all Runaways. If none of us had ever lied, our community wouldn’t have survived for so long.”

“Well done, anyway!” exclaimed Zoe. “You had all the answers ready.”

“Another of our indispensable gifts is the ability to anticipate the
questions
we might be asked,” concluded Dragomira thoughtfully. “Anyway, off you go, Zoe. Your friends are waiting for you.”

Mr Bontempi had also done Zoe a good turn, putting her in the same class as her friends Merlin and Zelda, which made her feel much better—she felt so alone sometimes. Best of all, Gus and Oksa would also be in Year 9 Hydrogen when they’d recovered from their tropical disease. Unfortunately, Hilda Richard—Cave-Girl, as she’d been nicknamed by Oksa—was also on the list, which didn’t please Merlin.

“Oh, that’s such rotten luck!”

As he was muttering to himself, he noticed Dragomira standing to one side, leaning against a massive statue of an angel. Oksa’s gran waved discreetly to him with a vague smile. Since she’d entrusted him with that hateful picture, they’d avoided talking to each other in order to keep their secret. Dragomira was being watched closely by the Felons, but they were also suspicious of Merlin. He’d known that ever since he’d found his house turned upside down just after he’d hidden the picture at Big Ben: every room had been ransacked, but nothing had been stolen—not even the brand-new computer or the twenty-pound note lying in plain
sight on a side table. Merlin was convinced that this was no ordinary burglary. He shivered at the memory. He hoped Oksa came out of that picture soon…

“Hi, Merlin!” drawled a loud voice behind him.

He turned round to find himself face to face with Hilda Richard. Merlin couldn’t get over how much she’d changed. The bully who’d spent her time terrorizing the other students had undergone a complete transformation.

“Have you grown your hair?” she continued, studying him closely. “It really suits you! Did you have a good break?”

Merlin looked at her in astonishment: she was still thickset, awkward and tall, but there was something much more feminine about the girl whom everyone avoided. Her small, close-set eyes gazed merrily at him from beneath lids covered in blue eye shadow, without a glimmer of malice.

“Er… yes, thanks!” replied the boy, taken aback.

Hilda smiled, which completely fazed him. She’d never been friendly to him before. She turned on her heels and walked away, swinging her hips so that the pleated skirt of her school uniform swayed with the motion.

“Wow!” exclaimed Zelda, loosening her tie. “Who’d have thought—Hilda Richard has turned into a real girl! The school holidays have certainly done her good.”

Zoe and Merlin looked at each other in surprise at this mean remark from Zelda, who was usually so kind.

“Watch out! She’s coming back,” murmured Zelda, winking at Merlin.

Blushing to the roots of his hair, Merlin looked at his feet and studied the blades of grass growing between the paving stones.

“Hey, Merlin!” called Hilda, making a huge effort to soften her voice. “Did you see that we’re in the same class and Miss Heartbreak is our form tutor? Isn’t that cool?”

Zelda couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter, which earned her a scornful look from Hilda. Merlin, on the other hand, seemed about to go up in flames.

“Yeah, really cool…” he muttered.

“See you soon then,” murmured Hilda, darting one last challenging look at the two girls. Brusquely shouldering her backpack, she headed off towards the centre of the courtyard, leaving the three friends to recover from their surprise.

“Casanova!” said Zelda to Merlin.

“Give it a rest!” retorted Merlin, his eyes twinkling and his cheeks scarlet. “It’s got nothing to do with me. Come on, we’d better get to class. We don’t want to keep Miss Heartbreak waiting.”

A
S THEY CLIMBED THE SPLENDID STONE STAIRCASE
LEADING
to the first-floor classrooms, the three friends remarked to each other that this new term was full of surprises. Hilda Richard, who was in front of them, was almost unrecognizable—gone were the vicious kicks, shoves and insults which had made her the most feared girl in the school. Her victims in previous years couldn't get over it. Everyone was relieved that her belligerent behaviour seemed to be a thing of the past, but they were still cautious in case the change was too good to be true. They were all watching and waiting for conclusive proof, Merlin more than anyone.

It wasn't just Hilda Richard who was different from last year: the summer break seemed to have done Zelda good too. The shy, clumsy girl who was scared of everything had grown a few inches and gained a hefty dose of self-confidence. When Miss Heartbreak said they could sit where they liked, the students rushed to pair up with their friends and Zelda bagged the desk next to Merlin's, after what he would have sworn was a great deal of pushing and shoving. “What's got into them?” he wondered, feeling puzzled. “Is that what puberty does to girls?” Only Zoe was the same: reserved, placid and sad. He noticed her disappointed
expression
when she saw Zelda sitting next to him and awkwardly shot her a
resigned smile. She didn't seem cross with him, though, and smiled back indulgently. He saw her spot a seat in the front row and sit down alone, her shoulders hunched. Full of remorse, he was just about to pass her a note of encouragement when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned round to see it was Hilda Richard… of course.

“Do you know where the Russian doll and her bodyguard are?” she asked quietly. “People are saying they're ill. Is that true?”

“I'll have you know that the Russian doll, as you put it, is my best friend!” snapped Merlin, quick as a flash.

“Hey, I didn't mean anything by it!” protested the former Cave-Girl. “I was just concerned, that's all.”

“Yeah, sure,” muttered Merlin, suddenly less convinced that the school holidays had worked any kind of magic on her.

“What's wrong? It's hardly unflattering, is it? Russian dolls are cute.”

“May I have your attention, please!” called out Miss Heartbreak.

Merlin turned round, relieved to escape Hilda's attentions.

“First of all, I'd like to tell you how glad I am to see you all again,” began their teacher. “Thank you for all your messages and gifts, which have been a great comfort to me, more than you can imagine… What I went through is still a mystery, but I'm determined not to let it hold me back, which is why I'm here today. I'll be your form tutor this year and I wish you every success with your studies. You can count on me to help you as much as I can.”

A few students murmured their thanks, aware of the vast difference between Miss Heartbreak and their previous form tutor, sardonic Dr McGraw.

“Excellent!” she said gaily, to lighten the mood. “Let's get down to work then. We'll start with the roll call. Please introduce yourselves as usual and perhaps you'd also tell us something about your school holidays, if you wouldn't mind?”

Sitting in the front row, listening distractedly as the first students stated their names and introduced themselves, Zoe couldn't take her eyes off her teacher. Standing behind her desk, she was just as slender and natural in appearance as she'd ever been. Only her face showed traces of her ordeal: tiny wrinkles fanned out from the corners of her eyes and all the vivacity had gone from her gaze. Miss Heartbreak had come back in one piece, but Zoe couldn't forget the horrible image of the teacher with tangled hair and tattered clothes, frolicking about in the icy water of the fountain like a puppy, yelling songs at the top of her voice. Nor could she forget that it was her great-uncle, Orthon-McGraw, who'd attacked her so violently. Did Miss Heartbreak know they were related? Of course she did. But she didn't seem to hold it against her. Then again, why on earth would she? Zoe knew what had happened, but Miss Heartbreak would never know! She'd forgotten everything. As far as she was concerned, her surly colleague had died in a car crash and Zoe had lost her form tutor, full stop. It was so strange… Everyone hated her great-uncle, but he wasn't just despicable Dr McGraw or the ferocious Felon: he was also a generous man who'd taken care of her and had welcomed her into his home. Zoe didn't want to believe he could be responsible in any way for her gran's Impicturement. The Squoracle was wrong. They were all wrong. Lost in dark thoughts, she gnawed her lower lip until it bled, her eyes brimming with tears. Miss Heartbreak looked over at her again and Zoe shivered, sure that the expression on her face betrayed her inner turmoil. Their teacher gave her a quick, compassionate smile, which made her feel worse: once again, she was an object of pity to those who only knew the bare bones of her story. She smiled back, her fists clenched, feeling upset and frustrated.

“Your turn, Miss Beck!” continued their teacher.

As she said this, Miss Heartbreak went pale and a shadow seemed to dim her blue eyes. She gripped the edge of the desk, her knuckles white with the effort of holding herself up.

“My name is Zelda Beck,” announced Zelda, sitting up straight in her chair and staring at their teacher. “I like reading and foreign languages,
electro music and running. I'd also like to add that I visited the Space Museum this summer. It's a brilliant place for understanding all kinds of stuff about the history of the universe.”

“It is fascinating there,” agreed Miss Heartbreak, a little tensely. “Thank you, Miss Beck. What about you, Miss Evanvleck?”

If possible, Zoe would have preferred to give a totally honest
introduction
: “My name is Zoe Evanvleck, I like history, particularly the history of the Insiders, who are my ancestors. This summer, I saw my cousin and grandfather swallowed up by an evil picture which had imprisoned my gran, whom I thought was dead, and my best friend, whom I really miss. Other than that, I spend my days practising my powers, so that I can walk through walls, beat the 100-metre track record and levitate in my room.” She was desperate to tell the world about the life she was living. Would the truth make her feel any better? Probably not and she knew it. She choked back her foolish desire to come clean, even though it was threatening to suffocate her.

“My name is Zoe Evanvleck,” she answered Miss Heartbreak nervously. “I like history, imaginary creatures and plants, as well as fantasy books. I spent the summer with my great-aunt and was kept very busy taking care of the animals belonging to her best friend, who'd gone on holiday.”

“Thank you, Miss Evanvleck,” smiled Miss Heartbreak. “Your turn, Mr Forster…”

When the bell rang for break, Zoe shot off to the toilet, where she locked herself in a cubicle and leant against the door. Her nerves were jangled, although she wasn't sure why. Or rather, she had a hundred good reasons to be on edge today, but she didn't know which one was making her feel so uptight… She took a deep breath and rubbed her hands over her face, as if trying to erase her bad mood. When she came out, Merlin was waiting for her with Zelda in tow. He'd also changed. In the space of a few weeks,
he'd matured. He was taller, broader and less chubby, and his luxuriant blond curls, which had made him seem so angelic, now formed a thick golden mass of hair, which did nothing to detract from his good looks.

“Are you all right, Zoe?” he asked, looking at her intently.

“I'm fine… I always get a little nervous on the first day back—you never know who you might run into…”

“Well, there's no denying that this year has got off to a pretty good start, hasn't it?” said Zelda cheerfully. “No more McGraw to terrorize us, what more could anyone ask for?”

Merlin nudged her as sharply as he could and glared at her. Zelda bit her lower lip, realizing—a little too late—how tactless she'd just been.

“Sorry, Zoe,” she muttered. “I'm a prize idiot…”

“Forget it,” answered Zoe with a sad smile. “You're always putting your foot in it, that's just the way you are. Shall we see if we can find somewhere to sit by the fountain?”

“Come on then!” said Merlin, relieved there were no ill feelings.

“Can I come with you?” rang out a voice behind them.

“Er…” replied Merlin, turning round.

He again found himself face to face with Hilda Richard, who was looking at him with unprecedented friendliness. He blushed again, as Zelda and Zoe struggled not to laugh.

“I'll take that as a ‘yes'!” exclaimed Hilda.

“You've scored there!” Zelda whispered in Merlin's ear. “What have you done with your sidekick?” she said to the heavyset girl waiting for them. “Have you frightened her off?”

“You mean Axel Nolan?” asked Hilda, narrowing her eyes. “Oh, I've grown up since last year, and I don't just mean I've got taller!”

“We've noticed!” replied Zelda, mockingly. “Have you given up boxing and rugby?”

“I know what you all think of me,” retorted Hilda. “And I don't care. I'll never be a girlie girl who loves ballet and cuddly animals. And I'm fine with that!”

The three friends looked at each other in surprise. With a shrug, Merlin changed the subject to their school holidays. Hilda chatted enthusiastically, devoting all her energy to being nice. The two girls were unimpressed and kept their distance during break while Merlin, trapped by his upbringing and sense of politeness, had a conversation with her which, against all odds, proved quite enjoyable.