Amethyst Night - The Secrets of Nightingale Academy - Chapter 7

The West Woods

When the bell rang to signal the end of the lesson the teacher appeared next to me. “Perhaps you should take that book with you,” he suggested.

I nodded and joined Fey’s crowd as I left the classroom. Nobody seemed to want to talk to me. Most of them didn’t even look at me or acknowledge that I was there. I didn’t dare to look at any of them, so instead I scanned the corridors we were walking through. The pictures of what I could only assume were famous witches and wizards were a welcome distraction from my dreaded next lesson. But, unfortunately, our arrival was inevitable. We reached the pillared walkway that led to the courtyard and, for the first time, I noticed that there was a trophy cabinet against the wall opposite the pillars. I didn’t have time to get a better look – as soon as we stepped on to the courtyard the teacher approached me.

“Have you found a suitable broom yet?” she asked, smiling cheerfully.

I shook my head.

Her smile disappeared and she instantly became more awkward. “Oh,” she stuttered. “Well, then, for today, just keep looking.”

I nodded and made my way over to the shed with the brooms in, all too aware of the sniggering coming from behind me. I sat in the middle of the floor, as always, and concentrated on that distant glow.

“Still can’t find a broom?” someone said mockingly behind me.

I turned to see Gemini stood in the doorway. “No, I haven’t,” I said calmly, refusing to rise to his annoying comment.

“Well that’s strange. If you’re good enough to be in the top class on your first day at the academy, then you should have every broom in this room begging to belong to you.”

I ignored him and concentrated on the glow, which had now become less of a glow and more of a sharp, piercing light.

“Gemini,” the teacher called to him. “Are you planning on taking part in my lesson?”

There was a light, tinkling sound in my head, like the sound of bells ringing, that seemed to resonate from the glowing presence – it was laughing.

“I just thought I’d give Amethyst some advice, seeing as she has yet to find a broom,” he explained to the teacher.

“I don’t need your advice,” I snapped, instantly regretting my stupidity but it was too late to dwell on that now.

“Oh really?” I could hear the annoyingly arrogant smile in his voice. “Then how come you haven’t found a broom yet?”

Since I had already said something stupid there was no point in ignoring him; that would just make him think that he had won, so I said, just as mockingly as him “Because someone’s stood in the doorway annoying me.”

“Oh, and is that your excuse for what happened in magic practical class too?”

“That’s enough, Gemini,” the teacher said, saving me from the fact that I had no come back for that.

“Why?” Parker joined in. He was lying back on his broom, hovering a couple of feet above the ground, obviously showing off. “He’s only speaking the truth.”

“They’re right,” Celia piped up. “Why is she in our class when she is terrible at everything?”

I suddenly felt like I was at a public stoning and they were taking it in turns to throw the insults at me.

“I said that’s enough,” the teacher said.

“But it’s not fair,” Celia objected. “We all worked hard to get good at magic to get into this class and then someone like her who can’t do anything magic related gets in on her first day without even trying.”

“Without being able to do magic at all,” Parker said, slipping off of his broom.

“So I’m not as good as you lot at magic,” I snapped at him. “So what?”

“Not as good isn’t quite the way I’d put it,” he said. “Everyone’s wondering why you haven’t found a broom yet, but the answer’s simple – only a witch or a wizard can fly a broom.”

What?

I could feel my face burning up from the embarrassment and the anger. I knew it was betraying me, showing everyone the horror, the disbelief, I was feeling. I almost started laughing hysterically but managed to hold back with just a light chuckle that sounded more like a gasp.

“What do you mean?” I murmured.

“Haven’t you had enough yet?” he continued. “You may have all the teachers fooled but we’re not as gullible.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, raising my voice slightly.

“Do you think it’s funny to impersonate someone who’s dead?”

At that moment, the phrase if looks could kill entered my head. I was sure that the look Parker was giving me as he spoke would send a bolt of lightning down to reduce me to nothing but ash. That, or his words would cut me to shreds.

“Dead,” I breathed out, laughing slightly again. The word felt stupid on my tongue, like I was admitting an impossible possibility. I wasn’t dead and I was Amethyst Night. Wasn’t I?

“Phoenix,” the teacher said, losing her temper for a moment but quickly regaining it.

“She’s not dead,” Leo told Parker, moving slowly towards me, desperately trying to cover up what Parker had revealed but not really believing his own words. “She’s stood right in front of you.”

“And you can be sure of that?” Parker asked. “Amethyst Night is dead. And if she wasn’t, she certainly wouldn’t be this much of a disgrace to the Night family.”

Now I knew why he’d looked at me like a ghost when we first met – it was because I was. And no wonder no one seemed to know anything about what was going on apart from what Parker told them. I was supposed to be dead. Why bother dwelling on someone who was dead?

I took a step away from him. “What the hell are you talking about?”I said, my voice shaking. I heard the doubt in my own voice. I knew nothing about my family so, though my mind kept throwing up the argument that I was alive and I was Amethyst Night, I had no evidence, no proof – I had no way of denying his claims and, as I spent more time at Nightingale Academy, I was starting to believe the things I knew about myself less and less. I could feel my entire body tingling like sparks of electricity were stuck just under my skin. I could sense the presence now, the glow now replaced by a sharp, bright light. It felt as angry as I was becoming.

“My parents who told me stories about the Night family and they said that the entire family, apart from Gabriel, is dead. So, who are you really?” Parker asked.

Confusion overwhelmed me to the extent that I was no longer certain of the answer to that question. It couldn’t be true; I knew that but the more I thought about it the less and less likely it seemed. I had to be Amethyst Night, but if I wasn’t then it would explain how incredibly hopeless I was at magic and why my mother had never told me anything about my father. It would explain why everyone seemed to be hiding something from me and why people always looked at me funny and talked about me behind my back. I knew, already that my mother had lied to me about something, but I had to believe that she had told the truth about who I was. The more I thought about it the more plausible Parker’s words became but they had to be a lie.

I couldn’t cope with the confusion or the crowds of people staring at me. I had never been able to cope with pressure and attention. I had to get away from there. I had to get to somewhere safer, somewhere quieter, like I always did when things got too difficult for me. I ran as fast as I could in the direction of the light in my head, only vaguely aware of Leo shouting my name behind me and the teacher calling for someone to get Miss Chariot. I didn’t even realise that I was running towards the West Woods until I felt the branches and leaves brushing against me and snapping off. When I was sure that I was as far away from other people as I could get the tears started falling. They streamed down my face with no hope of stopping them. I stopped running, trying to support myself with a tree and failing. I slid to the ground and curled up into a little ball. I don’t know how far into the forest I had gone or how long I sat there crying for. When I finally lifted my head, there was only a dim light left and the air around me was cold enough to give me goose bumps.

Something rustled in the bushes and my head spun round to look in the direction the noise had come from. A branch snapped. I poised myself, ready to run. Some sort of growling noise came from the bushes, deep and echoing in my head. My head spun round. Another growling sound was coming from behind me. Something emerged from the bushes – a large dog that resembled a chayote. Its paws barely made a sound as they disturbed the mud around them and, when they lifted off of the ground again, they left black, rotted prints where they had touched the ground. Its devil red eyes seemed to glow in the moonlight and swirled as if they were real flames that surrounded their wide, black pupils. Its dishevelled, black fur shifted to a dirty red-brown shade and bristled as it tensed itself. It opened its mouth, revealing a set of yellow, stained daggers that stuck out unevenly from the bright red gums, and exhaled a plume of steam and smoke. I saw its tail waving almost playfully in the air behind it, a bush of unkempt fur. Suddenly the tail burst into flames as if to mirror the creature’s change in mood to one of ferocity.

Another one emerged from behind me. I turned so that neither of them was positioned behind me, thinking that that was the best thing to do in the situation. They slowly started to close in on me, leaving paw print after paw print of dead plants and dried up mud. I backed away from them as best I could but collided with a tree. One of them bowed its head and seemed to be preparing to attack. I thought that I should perhaps run but knew that would be a futile attempt at escape. There didn’t seem to be any other options. There was nothing I could do. That thought scared me and that fear froze me to the spot. I could feel my heart throbbing in my ears. My mouth went dry and my throat became sore. The creature drew back and pounced. I braced myself, fully prepared for the pain and, of course, the subsequent death that I would be experiencing very shortly, and did so without moving an inch; I couldn’t pull my gaze away from that of the creature that was about to kill me. Then everything stopped.

A hooded figure appeared from within the bushes and positioned themselves between me and the creature. They held up their hand, palm facing the creature, and shouted, “Repel.” The creature went flying into a tree and the other one backed away slowly. My hero turned to look at me, her cape billowing out then falling to her sides as the power of the spell wore off. She was wearing hiking boots, which were covered in mud, and she stood straight with her feet shoulders width apart to provide a balance and posture that gave her a strong air of authority.

“Now, Amethyst,” she said. “Why were you about to become a snack for a hell hound?”