Fracture

his right flank to draw the coalition forces in. His hope was they’d throw everything they had at it, thus confusing their troops and weakening their own defences. Once they were in place, Napoleon’s hidden forces would rush out and attack them.’

The history teacher drew a violent series of arrows swinging on to the board. When he turned back to face the class, he looked positively gleeful.

‘They never saw him coming.’

As Zelazny described the battle in gory detail, Allie pictured Nathaniel’s letter, stabbed to the wall of the chapel with a knife. What if that was something like Napoleon’s ploy? Make them so paranoid they begin to suspect each other. Wait until they’re confused and distracted. Then attack from the flank.

Zelazny was drawing more lines on the board. ‘With the coalition forces weakened, Napoleon prepared his troops to deliver the coup de grace. Famously this is what he told his generals then.’ He wrote a sentence at the top of the board with such force the pen squeaked in protest. Then he stood back and looked out over the room.

The sentence read: ‘One sharp blow and the war is over.’

As she stared at those ruthless words, a sudden chill made Allie shiver.

What if that’s us?

After class, Allie met Carter and Sylvain in the corridor. It was lunchtime, and hordes of students rushed by them on their way to the dining hall.

‘What in the actual hell is going on?’ she asked.

Carter looked at Sylvain as if he would have the answer. ‘Raj Patel?’

Sylvain shrugged. ‘I guess so. He works fast.’

‘If Zelazny’s back do you think that means…’ Allie stopped as the realisation took shape.

‘What?’ Sylvain asked, a slight frown creasing his brow.

She shook her head. ‘Nothing. Don’t worry about it. There’s just something I have to do.’

Turning on her heel she started walking away but Carter called after her: ‘Aren’t you coming to lunch?’

Without stopping, she threw her answer back over her shoulder. ‘I’ll meet you down there later.’

Running against the tide of students, she took the stairs at speed and jogged down the long hallway. She was moving too fast to stop when she reached the English classroom and skidded around the corner, fairly flying through the doorway until a voice stopped her in her tracks.

‘Hello, Allie.’

Isabelle stood just inside the door, and she did not look happy.

‘Where have you been?’ Allie could hear the hurt in her own voice.

One part of her wanted to cry. Another – needier – part of her wanted to hug the headmistress. But she did neither. Instead she stood alone, arms at her sides.

‘As I understand it,’ Isabelle said, drawing out each word, ‘you know perfectly well where I’ve been. And I would like to ask the questions right now, if you don’t mind.’

‘Actually I do mind.’ Allie lifted her chin stubbornly. ‘How could you just go away and leave us alone? How could you do that? We’ve had to deal with all this on our own. And now you show up again and you want explanations? What? Was this all some kind of test?’

If Isabelle was surprised by Allie’s anger she didn’t show it; her leonine gaze was steady, cold. ‘You went into Mr Zelazny’s private rooms —’

Allie wouldn’t let her finish. ‘And found what you were looking for, yes. You’re welcome.’ She rested her hands on her hips in a defiant posture. ‘Anything else you want to thank us for? Warning the students their parents were on Nathaniel’s side? Giving them a chance to make their own decisions? Thinking on our feet? Being innovative? Doing your jobs?’

‘Enough.’ Isabelle’s powerful voice rang out in the empty room. ‘You’ve made your point. Now sit down. I have a lunchtime workshop scheduled and the students will arrive in a few minutes.’

Allie hesitated a second – she could, after all, just storm out in protest – but she really wanted to hear what Isabelle had to say.

With reluctant slowness, she lowered herself on to a nearby seat.

Placing her hands flat on Allie’s desk, Isabelle lowered her gaze to hers. ‘What you did – invading Mr Zelazny’s private space – was in complete violation of The Rules. You had no right to take it upon yourself to do that. If he ever found out what you did I don’t like to think what his reaction would be. If Lucinda found out you’d be lucky to still be at this school.’

Allie exhaled a long, relieved breath – Zelazny didn’t know. They hadn’t told him.

The rest – Isabelle’s lecture – didn’t really matter. She’d known all that when she walked through Zelazny’s door.

‘What was he doing with the key?’ Allie asked, searching Isabelle’s fine-boned face for clues. ‘Have you asked him? Is he the one?’

The headmistress closed her eyes for a second as if summoning strength. ‘Allie, you must let us handle this – this is what we do.’

Her voice fairly crackled with frustration but Allie refused to back down.

‘You didn’t even know he had the key —’

‘We did know.’ Isabelle’s voice rose. ‘And the key is now back in the book again. Please, for the love of God, leave it there.’

TWENTY-SEVEN

Disbelief made it impossible for Allie to speak for a moment. She couldn’t seem to get her brain to function.

‘You… you… what?’ Allie stuttered in shock. ‘I… I don’t…’

‘Understand? No, I don’t suppose you do.’ Isabelle smoothed the dark blonde hair which had begun escaping from her hairclip; as if her rage had been transmitted to her hair follicles. When she spoke again, her voice was more controlled. ‘Allie, Raj and I are investigating all the people who could be Nathaniel’s spy. All of them. And we have been for months now. We know everything in everyone’s rooms down to the tiniest speck of dust. Down to the fingerprints on their books. And the earplugs in their bedside tables.’

As she tried to process this, Allie held up a hand – she needed Isabelle to stop talking while she thought it all through.

‘Why did you leave the key there, though?’ she asked after a second. ‘Why haven’t you just questioned him about it?’

‘If he’s Nathaniel’s spy we can learn more by not making him aware we’re watching him,’ the headmistress replied. ‘He could inadvertently lead us to Nathaniel, or reveal others who are working with him. Once we show our hand we’ll get nothing from him.’

This made a dark kind of sense. But there were others involved, too. Other questions unanswered.

‘If you think it’s him, why hold Eloise?’ Allie asked. ‘Is she just, like… what? A decoy?’

‘Yes and no. At first we thought she might be the spy. Now we’re fairly certain she’s not but we’re holding her so the real spy can believe we’re not paying attention. We’ve reduced patrols of the grounds for the same reason, and suspended Night School.’

Sighing, Isabelle sat down in the desk next to her.

‘Allie, there are more guards watching this school right now than there have ever been. The night you all went to the cottage, you were watched all the way there.’

All other sound receded. The noise of students chatting in the corridor outside the classroom could have been on another continent. Allie couldn’t even hear her own heartbeat any more.

We were watched the whole time? Did they watch me and Carter?

Had someone watched them kiss? Stood by impassively as they revealed their deepest feelings about each other?

The thought of such an invasion of their privacy made her stomach churn.