Darke Academy 4: Lost Spirits (7 page)

‘Fine,’ she said finally. ‘We have a deal.’

C
assie found each day at the Academy was dragging unbearably. Unable to concentrate in any of her classes, she could think only of the quiet hours when she could get back to her room and get to her laptop. Yet when she was there, clicking on page after page and discussion thread after thread, she lived in a world of frustration.

Of course she hadn’t kept her promise to Sir Alric – actually, she told herself, she’d been careful not to give him one. As if she could go blithely about her school life without joining the hunt for Ranjit! Ranjit
and
the Urn, she reminded herself, because the Urn was almost as important as he was. Without it, they could never be together anyway. The Urn was key to everything.

She spent every evening, into the small hours, surfing websites and logging on to networks known only to the Few. This one, she thought as she logged on under yet another pseudonym, seemed more promising than most – but how much was
that
worth? She was growing tired of ‘subtlety and guile’, as Sir Alric so lightly called it. She was tired of being ‘darpak_mumbai’ online, tired of pretending to be an older cousin of Ranjit’s who’d been to the Academy himself, but simply lost touch with the family. She felt like hitting the caps-lock button and screaming, into the virtual air, ‘WHERE IS RANJIT SINGH?’

Cassie restrained herself. Instead she typed in questions that were casual, almost light-hearted: you know a handsome boy from India? Ranjit Singh – joined the Few in his second year at the Academy … A powerful spirit? In his fifth year at the school by now, darpak_mumbai guessed. How was he doing? What was he up to these days? He’d seen a statement from the Academy saying Ranjit was on extended study leave? Does anyone know where he might have gone to study?

She’d questioned Few members in Delhi, St Petersburg, Reykjavik, Cairo. Nothing doing. Rubbing her tired eyes one late evening, when she’d missed dinner yet again, she clicked back on to Facebook for a while, taking a much-needed break to catch up with Patrick Malone and the Cranlake Crescent crowd; after all, she was determined not to lose touch with her friend again. He was the one solid point of reference in her life, she thought fondly.

Still, she couldn’t resist the call of the Few networks for long. Twenty minutes and some very light gossip later, she was back on that discussion thread, amused to discover her own real name mentioned more than once. Three of the forum members were chattering inconsequentially, but illuminatingly.

>
 
So what’s happening with the famous Scholarship Girl?

>
 
I lost track after graduation

>
 
Who?????

>
 
Cassie Bell. Freaky Few is what u mean, cairo_ruthie!

>
 
Oh yeah. The scourge of New York! What’s she up to?

>
 
Dunno! Academy’s in Kenya this year.

>
 
Somebody warn the lions! Lol!

Well, Cassie thought with a wry grin, at least she’d achieved fame at last. And the gossip and ribbing had an element of respect, which was more than she’d once hoped for. She paused for a moment, fingers over the keyboard.

>
 
darpak_mumbai has signed in

>
 
Hey darpak, hows it going?

>
 
Hi darpak, u’re back!

>
 
Hello there. No news of ranjit the rake yet?

>
 
Ha, no! Havent heard from him.

Cassie shook her head grimly.

>
 
Ok guys. Will u let me know if u hear anything?

>
 
Sure! Or u could try following trail of sobbing women!

>
 
Lol ruthie! Bye darpak!

Yeah, yeah, lol yourself, Cassie thought bitterly, logging out. She was about to send the laptop to sleep when a small window popped up in the top right-hand corner.

Tiger_eye has sent you a private message.

Biting her lip, Cassie clicked it.

>
 
Hey darpak_mumbai, u still there?

She hesitated, hope leaping.

>
 
Hi. Yes, I’m here.

>
 
Oh good. Didn’t want to talk in chatroom

>
 
Yes?

A long pause.

>
 
You’re looking for ranjit singh, right?

Cassie enlarged the private window, peering at the avatar. It was the generic silhouette that meant the user hadn’t uploaded a photo yet.

>
 
Yes, u know him?

>
 
Used to.

>
 
U know where he is …
Cassie deleted that quickly. >
U know what he’s up to?

>
 
Not sure what he’s up to these days.

So why PM her? The frustration was killing Cassie, but she held on to her temper and typed again.

>
 
That’s a shame. I’d love to get in touch. Been too long.

The message screen stayed blank for so long, she wanted to put a fist through the laptop.

>
 
Well, officially he’s on gap year.

Cassie shut her eyes tight, clenching her fists.
Don’t scare them off
… >
Yes, so I understand. Have you seen him around? Where are you located?
If she bit her lip any harder, Cassie thought, she’d draw blood.

>>>>

>>>>

>
 
U still there?

>
 
Yeah. Might be able to help u.

>
 
Great!

>>>>

>
 
Are you there?
Cassie was rocking back and forth in her chair now, chewing her fingers.

>
 
Got to go. Will be in touch OK?

>
 
OK … Where are u based? Have you spoken to Ranjit?

>>>>

>>>>

>>>>

Tiger_eye is no longer online

Cassie gave a strangled scream of frustration and banged her forehead with her fists. It was the first time she’d had even a hint of a clue, and whoever this was, they were no longer online. And who called themselves Tiger_eye anyway, she thought with annoyance? Why wouldn’t they let on their location? Well, that was easily checked. She clicked on the name and brought up Tiger_eye’s profile.

This account has been deactivated

What? Startled, she pushed her chair back from the desk. Deactivated? In the last thirty seconds?

Tiger_eye …

Something constricted her throat, and she blinked. Could it be? Could it have been
Ranjit
?

Who else would choose a name that told nothing – but that would mean something to Cassie? It wasn’t compulsory but it was good etiquette on the network to give some indication of place and identity – if the Few couldn’t trust each other, or so the theory went, nobody could. So why be so secretive?

Tiger_eye

He used to laugh when she told him he had ‘eyes like a bloody tiger’ when he was cross. But how would he know ‘darpak_mumbai’ was her? Maybe from her IP address … ? Her heart leaped. The reticence of the user seemed right. It all seemed to fit. Ranjit wouldn’t want to reveal himself, wouldn’t want to give any clue to his identity. He probably wouldn’t even want to show himself to Cassie, but maybe he hadn’t been able to help himself. Their spirits were so tightly bound and connected.

And then he’d panicked and logged off.

Cassie’s heart thudded in her ribcage. She shouldn’t allow herself to hope, but she couldn’t help it. It all made so much sense. And at least it was a start.

Feeling suddenly far more hopeful, if still troubled, Cassie shut down the laptop, yawning. Two in the morning, again. No wonder she couldn’t focus in class. No wonder some of the teachers were getting unusually stroppy with her. At least tomorrow was Saturday.

She fell gratefully into the comfortable bed, only just remembering to draw the mosquito drapes, and for the first time in weeks she slept through the night, undisturbed except for some
very
pleasant dreams of Ranjit returning to her …

When she did wake, it was to the bright morning sun streaming through the open windows, and the sounds of daytime birds and vervet monkeys in the trees. Pushing herself up, she blinked and shoved hair out of her eyes.

‘Oh, Cassie,’ said a familiar voice. ‘I hope I didn’t wake you…’

Cassie flushed, hoping she hadn’t given away anything about what she’d been dreaming. Isabella was sitting at her desk, half-turned to Cassie with an anxious expression on her face.

‘No. No, of course not.’ Cassie peered stupidly at her watch. ‘You’re up?’

Not just up, she thought, but wide awake. Grief had affected Isabella in many ways, but she had never been a morning person. Yet there she sat, alert and solemn, and the printer was already humming busily.

‘I had to write a letter,’ said Isabella. ‘I couldn’t stay in bed.’

‘What kind of a letter?’ Cassie climbed out of bed and stretched. ‘Are you OK?’

Isabella nodded, forcing a smile. ‘I’m OK. More OK now, anyway.’

Cassie went over to her, uneasy, and laid a hand on her shoulder. Isabella had never been anything approaching fat, but the thinness and fragility of her bones were a shock now, every time Cassie touched her. There were telltale tracks on her face, still visible although the tears had long dried. Nervously Cassie ventured, ‘Why more OK now?’

‘Because I’ve made a decision.’ Isabella turned completely to face her. ‘I’ve written to Sir Alric. Here.’ She pulled the sheet from the printer. ‘I’m … I’m leaving the Academy.’

Cassie felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. She sat down, abruptly, on Isabella’s bed. ‘No.’

‘Yes. I’m sorry, Cassie. I really am. My decision’s final.’

‘Isabella!’ Cassie felt tears sting her eyes; she didn’t for an instant think Isabella was bluffing. ‘I’m sorry, I … look, I know I’ve been preoccupied the last couple of weeks. I know I haven’t spent enough time with you—’

‘Oh, don’t talk nonsense, Cassie Bell!’ Isabella came and sat down on the bed beside her, clasping her hand. ‘You’ve been brilliant. Truly. And I know you’ve been preoccupied too, and I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you more about all of this, but … I’ve been thinking. Thinking about everything. And this is the right thing. For me, at least. You’ll find another feeding source, I know you will.’ Her face was suddenly anxious. ‘Won’t you?’

‘Oh for heaven’s sake! That’s not the issue! It doesn’t matter a damn!’

‘It
does
, Cassie. But you’ll be all right, I know you will. Otherwise I wouldn’t go, no matter what. And you know we’re going to be friends forever, no?’

‘Isabella,’ she whispered. ‘Of course I know that. But what will I do without you, here at the Academy? When are you going?’

‘As soon as possible.’ Isabella squeezed her hand. ‘Oh, Cassie, I’ll miss you so much. You’ll be OK, won’t you?’

Cassie felt a tear roll down her cheek. ‘Of course. You need to do what’s best for you, I know that. But Isabella, have you talked to your parents about this?’ A tiny spark of hope burned, and was instantly extinguished when Isabella nodded.

‘Yes, and they’ve agreed to it. I’m sorry, Cassie. There’s no point me staying. It’s not just that it’s so painful for me – the thing is, I’m not even managing to learn anything. I can’t think about anything but … well, all that’s happened here.’ She sighed. ‘I need a new start. A new place.’

Cassie knew how that felt, even more so now. She rubbed her eyes, trying to wipe her tears away. ‘I do understand, Isabella. Honestly. It’s just a bit of a shock, that’s all.’

‘I’m sorry …’

‘Stop saying that.’ Cassie returned her hug, fiercely. ‘Don’t you dare apologise. If this is right for you, you have to do it.’

‘Know what, Cassie Bell?’ There were tears in Isabella’s eyes again too. ‘I knew you’d understand. I knew you would. That’s why I love you.’

‘Shut up and stop making me cry, you awful Argentinean cow!’

Isabella laughed. It was a feeble and slightly hysterical sound, but God, thought Cassie, it was a good one.

She
did
understand. It made sense for Isabella to leave, however dreadful that would be for Cassie. Feeding was the least of it; after all, Sir Alric would organise an alternative, no doubt some poor first or second year who would drink the Few drink and then forget what had happened.

But Cassie wasn’t losing a feeding source. She was losing her best friend, her ally, the girl who had taken care of her from the moment she’d arrived at the Academy. She was losing one of the two most important people in her world.

And how ironic that, just as she thought she might be closer to finding Ranjit, she should have to lose Isabella.

‘I’m going to tell him.’ Isabella stood up, but she held on to Cassie’s hands. ‘I’m going up to Sir Alric’s office now.’

‘Do you want me to come with you?’ Cassie squeezed her hands, knowing how daunting a prospect it must be.

Isabella shook her head. ‘I’ll be OK. Wish me luck?’

‘I would never wish you anything else,’ she said, standing up to hug her friend again. ‘And you won’t need it. He’ll understand. But good luck anyway.’

Cassie stared at the door as it closed behind her friend, her heart sinking further in her chest with each passing moment.

‘C
assie!’ Richard rose from the gym bench and laid down his fencing mask and épée. He clasped her hand and pulled her down beside him. ‘Is it true? About Isabella?’

It never failed to amaze her how fast news travelled in the Academy. She was glad Richard had grabbed her before anyone else could buttonhole her and demand information, especially since she could now focus on him and ignore the sneers of Saski and Sara.

‘It’s true,’ she said quietly. ‘She’s leaving.’

‘God, Cassie.’ Richard reached round and squeezed her shoulders. ‘That’s a real blow. I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s a blow for us, but it’s right for her.’ She tried to give him a smile. ‘She’s made the decision she needs to make. And it’s not like she’s vanishing off the face of the earth.’