Night School: Resistance (Night School 4)

The wind lashed the branches above their heads, sending pine cones tumbling around them like hard rain. They both ducked.

‘The sky is attacking us,’ Allie said. ‘We better go.’

Lightning crackled in the distance and Sylvain glanced up at the sky. ‘Alors. We should hurry.’

They set off at a steady jog down the curving woodland path. Ferns grew tall on either side, brushing softly against Allie’s legs as she ran. She’d been down this path many times. It was as familiar to her as any hallway inside Cimmeria.

The branches whipped back and forth in the wind, their motion dizzying. In the distance, something caught Allie’s attention. It was no more than a shadow but something about it didn’t make sense. It seemed to move in opposition to the wind.

As she slowed her pace and squinted into the dimness, a sudden strong breeze parted the branches.

Her heart began to pound.

That was no shadow.

She watched the figure of a man, clad in dark clothes, disappear behind a thick clump of trees.

Allie pulled Sylvain’s hand. When he met her gaze she pressed her finger to her lips and pointed to where she’d seen the movement.

Instantly alert, he turned to look in the direction she indicated. He let go of her hand and dropped down into a crouch peering intently into the woods. But she could tell he saw nothing.

‘I don’t …’ he whispered, glancing up at her.

Then the man moved again. It was little more than a flicker of darkness amid the green.

‘There,’ she whispered, crouching down next to him.

Close together, they peered into the forest. The trees, shaken by the rising storm, danced around them.

She felt Sylvain’s body tense as he saw the figure. But then he relaxed again just as suddenly.

‘A guard,’ he said. He sounded absolutely certain.

‘Really?’ Allie peered into the woods. But the man had disappeared. ‘You’re sure?’

Sylvain stood up straight; she followed suit.

‘I got a good look at him. I’ve seen him with Raj before,’ he said. ‘I’m not really surprised. The guards know there’s a meeting this afternoon. Raj probably asked him to keep an eye on us. Well, on you, anyway.’ His face grew more serious. ‘Do you realise you’re followed all the time now?’

Allie’s stomach dropped. She shook her head.

The guards were everywhere, yes, but it had never occurred to her they might be there for her. But now things clicked into place. Guards in the corridors, on the lawn, on the stairs, in the classrooms and the dorms… she couldn’t remember the last time she’d turned around and not seen a black uniform somewhere within view.

They began walking down the path again, more slowly now.

‘I know you don’t like it but as long as you’re safe,’ Sylvain said, ‘that’s what matters.’ Allie knew he was right, but the incident still left her feeling invaded. She was watched all the time? What about last night on the roof? Sylvain was certain they weren’t watched but… What if they had been?

The idea made her queasy.



Ahead, the chapel wall loomed into view. Its ancient stone covered in grey lichen but just as sturdy as when it was first constructed centuries ago. Here the path curved left to follow the line of the wall. Nearby Allie knew there was a stream, crossed by a stepping-stone bridge. But they didn’t go in that direction. Instead, they carried on to an arched wooden gate. Sylvain held it open for her, latching it behind them with a metallic clatter.

Beyond the gate a small, stone chapel stood, surrounded by the dead.

The church was overlooked by an ancient yew tree, huge and eternal, its gnarled roots so old they’d climbed out of the ground like a tangle of prehistoric vines.

This was Allie’s favourite place at Cimmeria. Some part of her longed to climb the tree’s long branches as she and Carter had done in the old days, and hide from the world.

But those days were over.

The grass stood high in the churchyard; some of the shorter gravestones were overgrown. Even the tallest were half hidden.

Allie looked around in dismay. It wasn’t like Mr Ellison to let things go.

‘Why is it like this?’ she asked, gesturing at the graveyard.

Sylvain followed the direction she indicated with muted interest. ‘There aren’t enough people around to help the groundskeeper. He let the churchyard go to seed so he could focus on his other work.’

His explanation made Allie’s heart heavy.

She knew Mr Ellison would hate letting it go like this. He cared about every bit of his job.

It was only a little thing, but it bothered her.

It bothered her more that Sylvain didn’t seem to know his name.

She wanted to tell him Mr Ellison was more than just a groundskeeper – he was a wise and caring man. He’d helped her deal with her grief after Jo died. He’d raised Carter after his parents were killed.

But Sylvain was standing in the chapel door, looking at her expectantly.

Now wasn’t the time. Hiding her doubts, she followed him inside.





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Sixteen