When we didn’t hear any shouting or screaming, we assumed things were all right. I truly hoped for Ariadne’s sake that this Muriel girl really had turned over a new leaf.

We headed for room thirteen, and stopped outside the familiar door. In a strange way, it was good to see it again. Scarlet smiled up at her lucky number and then let us in. The room was just as we’d left it: the twin beds, the desk, the wardrobe, the same old threadbare carpet, the same smell of dusty air and freshly washed sheets.

I laid my bag down on my bed. “Do you think Ariadne will really be all right?” I asked, doubt beginning to creep into my mind.

“She’ll be fine,” Scarlet sighed. “By the end of the week Ariadne and Muriel will probably be having midnight feasts and knitting each other scarves.”

I laughed. “I hope so.”

Scarlet took out her timetable and squinted at it. “It’s not too different from last year, although there are some new lessons on there. Some new teachers too.”

“And new pupils,” I said, thinking of all the girls I’d seen that I hadn’t recognised. And then there was Muriel, and the mysterious Ebony …

“You’ve got your worried face on,” Scarlet said. She had thrown her bag on the floor and was already pulling things out of it.

“It’s nothing,” I said with a sigh, and then remembered that we’d promised not to keep things from each other any more. “It’s … it’s just all this. Starting a new term again. I feel a little lost.”

My twin stood up. “I was lost once. And you know what happened?”

“What?” I asked, turning to face her.

“You found me,” she said with a grin.

And somehow, that was enough to make me feel better.

Chapter Five

SCARLET

he first class of the year was art with Miss Pepper. I’d never been very good at the subject – I preferred writing – and I didn’t like not being able to do things.

We met Ariadne waiting in the hallway outside the art room, obviously trying to stand as far away from her new roommate as possible.

“Was it all right?” I asked.

Ariadne nodded. “She didn’t really say very much in the room,” she whispered. “But I’m sure she’s just saving up her meanness.”

Muriel was leaning against the wall, her nose in a book. She didn’t seem like she was about to start bullying anyone. There were a couple of other girls I didn’t recognise as well in amongst the crowd of our class that was forming, two of them huddled together and whispering.

And then there was Ebony McCloud. She swanned down the hallway and suddenly everyone was silent and staring at her. She acted like she didn’t even notice, and instead just walked up to the art-room door. She really was fascinating.

Dot Campbell leant forward and said, “Um, Miss said we weren’t allowed in until …”

But Ebony just completely ignored her and went straight into the room.

“Well then,” I shrugged. If she was going in, I was going in. And it didn’t take long for everyone else to follow me.

Noisily, everyone found a seat, Muriel going right to the back as we made our way to the front. The desks were bigger and messier in art and there was no seating plan. At that moment, the bell rang, and not long after that, Miss Pepper walked in.

She pushed her red glasses down her nose and stared around at us. “I thought I’d told you not to come in before the bell, girls?”

Everyone looked at the new girl, but no one said a word. Ebony just smiled.

Miss Pepper didn’t seem to know what to do. “Right then,” she said. “Onwards and upwards. Art to be made. Still life!” She pulled a cloth off her desk, revealing a bowl of fruit of all shapes and sizes.

Anna Santos raised her hand. “Can we eat the fruit, Miss?”

Miss Pepper stared at her. “Where would be the art in that exactly, Miss Santos?”

Anna just blinked. She had always been a few bananas short of a fruit bowl.

“Moving swiftly on,” the art teacher continued, “let’s start by looking at the light and shade …”

By the end of the lesson, I had drawn something that at least vaguely resembled a bunch of fruit. I peered over at Ivy’s – it was slightly better than mine, but she was left-handed and had smudged some of her pencil as she’d leant over the page. She made a face at it.

“Leave them on my desk, please, artists,” Miss Pepper said.

One by one, we all left our masterpieces for her to mark. But when Ebony went up, Miss Pepper stopped bustling around and peered down at Ebony’s sheet of paper through her glasses. “You, girl,” she called out after her. “What’s your name?”

Ebony stopped and turned back slowly. “Ebony McCloud,” she answered.

Miss Pepper reached down, picked up the drawing and stared at it. “What is the meaning of this?” she asked. There was an undercurrent of something in her voice that might have been anger, or perhaps it was fear.

Ebony just stared at her. “I drew what I wanted,” she said. “Isn’t that okay?” And then she sat down.

I waited, holding my breath. If she had said that when Miss Fox was around, she’d have been in for a caning. Thankfully, Miss Pepper was a lot less violent, but she still didn’t usually take any nonsense from her students.

Any moment now, I thought, she’s going to launch into her speech about how you have to follow the rules of art before you can break the rules.

But something unexpected happened. Miss Pepper just stood there silently for a moment and then said, “Right. Well, that’s enough for today, ladies. You need to head to the hall now to pick your sports.” She put Ebony’s drawing back on the pile and blinked at it. “Right,” she repeated. And then she left the room. The bell hadn’t even rung yet.

I looked around at the class, but everyone was just sitting there. I had to see what was going on. So I got out of my seat and went over to look at Ebony’s drawing.

In amongst the many drawings of the colourful bowl of fruit, there was a picture that stood out. It was black and white, and it was of a castle. There was a silhouette of a lady standing in the window, and bats flying from the tower. The lady was weeping white tears, her hair streaming out behind her. She was staring at a row of fresh graves, marked with crosses in the dirt. It was beautiful in a strange and dark way.

I picked it up and waved it at the new girl in disbelief. “I can’t believe you drew this instead of the fruit!” A murmur started up around the class as everyone stood up to leave, all of them casting nervous glances at Ebony as they went.

She just smiled at me. “Why? Don’t you like it?” she asked.

“It’s very … artistic,” Ariadne piped up.

Ivy was blinking at it, as if she were wondering whether it would transform into a fruit bowl before her eyes.

I didn’t know what to say. I settled for, “You’re a strange one, aren’t you?”

It wasn’t meant to be an insult, and Ebony didn’t seem to take it that way. In fact quite the opposite. “Why, thank you,” she said as she stood up. She flashed me a brilliant white smile, swung her black satchel over her shoulder and walked out like she was floating on air.

“There’s something about that girl,” Ivy said, once her eyes had followed Ebony out of the room. “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s definitely something.”

My mind was elsewhere. “Why did Miss Pepper act like that?” I said out loud. “Why did she just let it go? How come the new girl doesn’t get a lecture? I painted a tree the wrong colour once and she said I was ‘insulting Turner’s legacy’!”

“It was most peculiar,” Ariadne replied. “She—” Ariadne paused mid-sentence as Muriel came to stand right next to her.

“What do you do for games, Ariadne?” Muriel asked, as if they were the best of chums.

Ariadne gaped for a moment. “Um,” she said, “I quite like chess.”

Muriel brushed her blonde hair back from her face. “I meant … what sport do you like?”

“Hockey,” Ariadne said, when she’d recovered enough from the fact that her former bully was trying to make small talk.

“Oh, right,” said Muriel. “That sounds good. See you at the next lesson, then.” She smiled shyly and headed out of the art room.

Ariadne still looked horrified. I went over and shook her shoulder gently. “Come on,” I said. “We’d better get going.”

“Is she going to pick hockey too?” Ariadne wailed.

Ivy looked up at me. “Would that be so terrible?”

“I manage to score enough bruises on my own without her getting involved,” our friend replied sadly. “She’ll probably knock me into the goal on purpose. Or try to hit my legs out from under me. Or shoot the ball into my face. Or …”

“She won’t,” I said. “I told you that I’ll see to her if she does anything like that to you.”

Ariadne’s head sank on to the desk, her hair narrowly missing a pot of paint. “Perhaps I should just take up swimming instead.”

I think the same thoughts ran through all of our heads. Miss Bowler. The freezing-cold swimming pool. The lake from the school trip, where Ariadne had felt something grabbing her leg …

“Perhaps not,” we all said in unison.

We made our way to the hall, where the sign-up sheets for the different sports were pinned on the boards. Of course, there was no question of what Ivy and I were going to pick. We’d loved ballet for years, even if it had got us into trouble in the past. Although that was usually more my fault than the ballet’s.

Ariadne had gone from hating hockey to enjoying it. I saw her face fall as she watched Muriel sign her name on the sheet. Still, she went over and added her name below it. I gave her a reassuring pat on the back as I walked past.

“It’ll be fine,” I said.

“Fine for you, maybe,” Ariadne grumbled.

Miss Bowler was marching around like an army sergeant, as usual. She seemed to be relishing the extra power she’d been given now that Mrs Knight was headmistress. “Girls!” she barked periodically. “Sign up and get in your groups!”

We were amongst the usual ballet crowd, minus the girls who had left the school. Madame Zelda was standing beside us, waving an incense stick (which was something she liked to do for no apparent reason).

After a lot of hustle and bustle, everyone was finally in their groups.

Everyone except Ebony.

She was standing in the middle of the hall, her boots firmly planted, her arms folded, her black hair tumbling over her sleeves.

Miss Bowler strode over to her. “What exactly do you think you’re doing, Miss McCloud?”

“I won’t be picking a sport,” said Ebony matter-of-factly.

Miss Bowler looked flabbergasted. “Excuse me? And why ever not, missy?”

Ebony’s lip curled with the ghost of a satisfied smile. “Because I don’t want to.”

Everyone gasped. I couldn’t help but feel a little impressed. This girl had some nerve. You didn’t speak to a teacher like that – and certainly not the strict games teacher – unless you wanted to receive a deafening lecture and then be forced to clean all the green gunk out of the swimming pool.

But as we all braced ourselves for the impact … nothing happened. Miss Bowler just blinked at her and then said, “Fine. But you’ll be writing essays this hour every week. Understand?” Then she stormed away, muttering under her breath.

Ebony nodded, turned on her heel and left the hall. She was still smiling.

“What exactly just happened back there?” Nadia asked.

“I wouldn’t get away with that,” Penny grumbled.

Ivy looked at me. “You have to admit, that was strange,” she said. “That’s the second time today that she’s just been let off the hook.”

“I know.” I shuffled my feet on the floor. I was itching to get back into my ballet shoes. “It’s like …”

“Like she’s got the teachers under a spell,” said Nadia from behind us, her eyes wide.

Chapter Six

IVY

t was wonderful to be back in the ballet studio again. Madame Zelda had taken us down to where Miss Finch was waiting.

“You’re older now, girls,” Miss Finch said. “Things are going to get harder. We’ll need you all to be on your best behaviour.”

Madame Zelda nodded, tapping her long fingernails on her arm. “Discipline, discipline, discipline,” she said in her unusual accent. “Work hard, and you will reap the rewards.”

It was harder. The two teachers pushed us to do moves that were more difficult than we’d ever done before. I could feel my muscles stretching to their limits, my joints clicking as I pulled them into unfamiliar positions.

By the end of it, when we went into reverence and bowed and curtseyed to the teachers, I was exhausted. Scarlet and I sat down to unlace our shoes, breathless.

I stared at my face in the mirror, my hair already falling out of my tight bun. Madame Zelda walked past. “Well done, Ivy,” she said, “and Scarlet. Both of you did your best today.”

I smiled, but something about the sight of Madame Zelda made my thoughts return to Ebony and what Nadia had said. She did seem to have some sort of power over the teachers. But what that could be, I had no idea.

Feeling drained after the long day, we made our way to Rookwood’s dining hall for supper. I hated to say it, but I was actually looking forward to the food. The air was filled with chatter, as always.

We met Ariadne in the queue. Thankfully, she didn’t look any more bruised than usual so Muriel couldn’t have hurt her.

“Nothing happened,” she said with a shrug. “Muriel just played hockey. I couldn’t believe it!”

“I told you so,” Scarlet said. “I think she must have really changed. Nothing to worry about.”

“Until she murders me in my sleep,” said Ariadne with a theatrical shudder. But I was pretty certain she was joking.

I looked around at the rows of long tables. Both Muriel and Ebony appeared to have been placed in Mayhew House, judging by where they were sitting, and other new students were scattered about all over the place. At one end of all the tables, first years were gathering, trying their first-ever helpings of Rookwood’s mystery stew, their uniforms perfect and shiny and straight.

We got our bowls and carried them on trays over to our table, where Madame Zelda was now sitting as the new head of Richmond House. I wasn’t surprised to see that she appeared to have brought her own food. Whatever she was eating certainly seemed to involve far more fresh vegetables than we were ever given.

As we passed where the girls from Mayhew were sitting, I saw Ebony daintily scooping the stew with her spoon. She even managed to make eating look glamorous and faintly mysterious. I noticed that the first and second years were all staring at her, wide-eyed and whispering.

Muriel, on the other hand, was drawing no attention at all. She was sitting alone, not talking to anyone. She waved at Ariadne as we walked by, and then went back to her dinner.

“It seems so strange to think that she bullied you. What did she actually do?” Scarlet asked as we got to our table.

“Scarlet!” I said. “Ariadne probably doesn’t want to talk about that.”

Ariadne sighed. “No, it’s all right. I haven’t explained much about it, really.”

Scarlet waved a fork at her. “Go on,” she said. We were sitting far enough away from any of the teachers, so we could speak freely.

“She was truly horrible,” Ariadne began. “Everyone at Hightower was afraid of her. Except for her gang, of course.”

“Hightower?” I asked, in between mouthfuls.

“Hightower School for Girls. Where I was before.” Her eyes glazed over with thoughts of the past. “I loved it there, at first. Before I met Muriel Witherspoon.” She took a deep breath. “It only took her a day to give me a whole list of nasty nicknames. And then she just wouldn’t stop picking on me. She would take my things and try to hurt me any time she got a chance.”

“Sounds like a few people I know,” Scarlet said through a mouthful of stew.

“Oh yes,” said Ariadne, “but that was just the start of it. She formed this secret club called the Crow Club that met in this shed out by the playing fields. It was a bit like the Whispers, except it only existed so she could be horrible to people.” The Whispers was the secret society of past pupils that our mother had belonged to. It had been quite the opposite of this Crow Club, though – they had actually tried to expose the corruption in the school and protect the other students.

Ariadne frowned at the table as she continued explaining. “They spread rumours all the time. They wouldn’t let me into the club because they said I was a ‘goody two-shoes’. And then they told everyone … well, I don’t want to say because it was just too horrible.”

“And that’s when you burned down the shed?” I asked, remembering how Ariadne had been expelled.

She nodded slowly. “I was just so sick of it. They were making my life a misery!”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” said Scarlet. “I’m not exactly the queen of self-restraint when it comes to bullies, am I?” She grinned, and we grinned back at her.

“Freaks!” I heard a quiet voice say by my ear. But … it sounded friendly. And familiar.

I turned to see Rose standing beside me, with her empty tray.

“Oh yes!” Scarlet said with a grin. “Freaks together! That’s us, isn’t it?”

Rose grinned. When we’d had quite the adventure in the summer, we’d reassured Rose that she wasn’t alone in being an outsider. She may have been locked in an asylum and plagued by nasty relatives, but we knew all about that too.

“Nice to see you again, Rose,” I said.

She nodded. She didn’t talk a lot and she chose her words carefully.

“Everything all right?” Scarlet asked. “No more rogue relatives bothering you?” I shuddered. Rose’s cousin had nearly got us killed in the process of trying to steal her inheritance.

Rose nodded again. “I got a lawyer,” she said in her voice that was barely above a whisper. There was a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

At that point, Mrs Knight appeared and began hovering around our table. “Good evening, girls,” she said. “Is all well over here in Richmond?”

“Wonderful, thank you,” said Madame Zelda, twirling a lettuce leaf with her fork. And it was true – everyone did seem to be behaving so far, which was quite unusual for our table. Madame Zelda was certainly a bit more intimidating than Mrs Knight, which helped. I got the impression she wanted the headmistress to go away.

“Oh good, good,” Mrs Knight said. She walked over to where we were sitting. “Staying out of trouble, girls?”

“Of course,” said Scarlet, batting her eyelashes comically. I nearly snorted my drink out of my nose. Rose laughed and walked away to join the back of the dinner queue.

“Ah,” said the headmistress. “I hope you will continue to keep an eye on Rose.”

“Is she allowed to stay now, Miss?” Ariadne asked. After all, Rose hadn’t always been a pupil at Rookwood.

Mrs Knight smiled and rubbed her sleeves. “Oh yes. We were able to secure some of Rose’s inheritance to pay for her to be here full time. She’ll be joining some lessons as well. Not all of them straight away, mind. That might be too much. She’s had a tough time.”

“That’s so kind of you, Miss,” I said, and I meant it. I couldn’t imagine our former headteachers showing any sort of compassion for a student.

Mrs Knight blushed. “Oh, it’s nothing. Right, girls, I mean it – you’ll stay out of trouble this term, won’t you?”

“Yes, Miss,” we chorused. I hoped we meant that.

When we’d finished (and Ariadne had gone back for a second helping of tinned peaches in custard, which was admittedly unusually nice for Rookwood), we picked up our trays to take them away.

We passed Ariadne’s former roommates, who were from the year below us, and were all sitting together.

They all waved. “Hello, Ariadne!” they called out in unison.

I recognised the girl who had become the unofficial leader of the group; she was Agatha, who had a bird’s nest of frizzy brown hair and loved to be in charge. “Psst,” she hissed, leaning forward. “Have you seen that new girl, Ebony McCloud?”

“Oh yes,” Scarlet replied.

“She’s certainly … interesting,” Ariadne said politely.

Agatha’s eyes slid across the room, as if she were checking for spies. Then she leant across the table again. “We heard she’s a witch!”

The other girls all nodded, wide-eyed and serious.

Ariadne paused. “Really?”

Scarlet looked at them incredulously. “A witch? As in … pointy hats and broomsticks and cauldrons?”

“Oh yes,” said Evelyn, the red-haired one. “All of that. And she can do spells.”

“Isn’t it exciting?” said another of them, Bonnie, her bright eyes sparkling. “Do you think she’ll teach us?”

“She can probably teach you how to be even more weird than you lot already are,” Scarlet said, but they didn’t seem to notice. The rumour mill was in full flow.

“Do you think she can make potions? Maybe she’d make a love potion for me …”

“I bet she can see the future!”

“If we look in her window at night we can see if she transforms into a bat!”

Wordlessly, we backed away. Ariadne’s old roommates were a little intense once they got an idea in their heads.

“Ebony’s certainly strange,” I said, as I scraped my bowl clean. “But where can they have got this idea from?”

Ariadne wrinkled her nose, though whether it was at the food slops or at her friends’ gossip I wasn’t sure. “Who knows?” she said.

Scarlet frowned. “I think they believe anything anyone tells them. I think she’s just eccentric, that’s all.”

I nodded in agreement. It wasn’t surprising that Ebony was a little strange – who wasn’t, at Rookwood?

But as I walked past her, with her hair the colour of the night sky and her eyes grey as storm clouds, I began to wonder if perhaps there was more to her than met the eye.