Sparkling Steps

Table of Contents

 

 

 

GROSSET & DUNLAP
Published by the Penguin Group
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Text copyright © 2007 Sue Bentley. Illustrations copyright © 2007 Angela

 

Library of Congress Control Number: 2009017631

 

eISBN : 978-1-101-17109-7

Prologue

A terrifying growl sounded close by and Flame, the young, white lion, froze. He had hoped it was safe to return this time. But he was wrong. He knew he needed to act quickly.

Sparks ignited in Flame's fur and there was a flash of bright white light. Where he had stood now crouched a tiny kitten with a round face and velvety, blue-gray fur.

An old, gray lion limped forward from the shadows at the back of the cave. “Prince Flame! You shouldn't be here. You must hide!”

“There is no time, Cirrus. Uncle Ebony is coming!” the little kitten meowed, trembling.

Cirrus reached out a large paw and gently drew the kitten behind a pile of rocks to hide.

A loud scraping sound pierced the cave. Flame's heart beat fast in his little chest as he listened to Ebony sharpening his claws on a rock. A flash of anger glittered in the tiny kitten's emerald eyes. “One day I will take back the throne my uncle stole from me!” he meowed bravely.

“And I do not doubt that you will be a wise ruler, my prince,” Cirrus said, a smile creasing his wrinkled muzzle. He gave Flame's tiny head an affectionate lick.

A menacing shape almost filled the cave's entrance. Raising its powerful head, the enormous, black lion shook its mane. Ebony growled again. Peering into the cave, he sniffed the air. “Who's there? Show yourselves!” he roared.

“Go, Flame!” Cirrus urged through worn teeth. “Go quickly! Use your kitten disguise and hide in the other world. Return again when you have grown strong and powerful!”

Silver sparks glittered in Flame's blue-gray fur. The tiny kitten meowed as he felt the power building inside him. He felt himself falling. Falling . . .

Chapter ONE

“I'm here! I'm actually at Yew Lodge!” Olivia Goddard whispered excitedly to herself, as she entered the changing rooms.

Everywhere she looked, there were unfamiliar girls in gray skirts, white blouses, and blue cardigans. Olivia found a space and started taking her things out of her bag. She had just changed into her new, pink leotard when a group of girls walked in, giggling and whispering to each other. They looked about ten years old, the same as Olivia.

A small girl with silver-blond hair and blue eyes stood nearest to Olivia.

Olivia smiled. “Hi, I'm new here. I think I'm in your class,” she said.

“So what?” the blond girl said rudely. She looked up at Olivia and smirked. “What's the weather like up there?”

There were more muffled giggles and whispers from the other girls.

Olivia was used to being teased about her height. “I don't know. My head's in the clouds,” she joked. “What's it like down there?”

“She told you, Lucy!” one of the other girls said with a chuckle as Lucy scowled and turned away.

The door banged as a girl with a mop of bright red hair came running into the changing room. She dumped her bag on the bench next to Olivia. “Phew! Just made it. The bus was late,” she puffed. She gave Olivia a big grin. “Serves me right, for not living here like everyone else, I guess! Hi, I'm Tamsin!”

“Hi, I'm Olivia,” Olivia said, smiling.

Tamsin was thin with pale skin and freckles. She smelled of fresh air and spearmint chewing gum.

“Welcome to Yew Lodge!” Tamsin dragged a creased leotard and a pair of wrinkled, white ankle socks out of her bag. “Are you a day girl, like me?”

“No, I'm boarding,” Olivia replied. “My mom's just dropped me off. I haven't even had time to unpack properly, but I didn't want to miss my first class. It feels a little weird to be starting midterm.”

“I bet it does,” Tamsin agreed. “Have you met any of the others yet?”

“Only Lucy, but she wasn't exactly friendly,” Olivia said quietly.

Tamsin rolled her eyes. “What a surprise. Not!” she whispered back. “Lucy Castor thinks she's Miss Perfect. Don't pay any attention to her.”

Olivia laughed, happy to see that not everyone was so unfriendly.

Unfortunately, Lucy chose that moment to walk by on her way to the studio.

“Ooh, look, Mariko!” she said to the pretty girl with high cheekbones and almond eyes by her side. “Beanpole and Frizz are friends.”

Olivia's heart sank as she noticed Tamsin's face flush before she twisted her mass of curly, red hair into a bun.

“I think you've got amazing hair,” Olivia said, hoping that Lucy's mean comment hadn't scared off the only girl to be friendly to her so far.

“Thanks, Olivia,” Tamsin said with a wry chuckle. “I guess it is a bit of a frizz—I have to use tons of this gel stuff to stop bits of it from popping out and hanging in my eyes.”

Olivia, relieved to see that Tamsin hadn't been too bothered by Lucy, groaned in sympathy. “My hair does that, too.”

Tamsin held out the tube of hair gel. “Try some of this.”

“Thanks.” Olivia squeezed some out and smoothed it on to her thick brown hair. In no time at all, she had coiled it around and pinned it into a neat bun. She sat down to tie her shoelaces.

Tamsin was tying hers, too. “Don't forget to tuck in the ends. Miss Frances hates flapping laces. She calls them pig's ears!” she said. A few minutes later, she jumped up. “I'm done. Ready?”

Olivia nodded.

As she followed Tamsin into the large, light studio with its shiny, wooden floor, Olivia felt her stomach clench with nerves. Three entire walls were mirrored and a double barre ran around them. In one corner, a woman was seated at a piano.

“Here's Miss Frances,” Tamsin whispered as the teacher came in.

Olivia stared at the tiny, straight-backed woman. Frances Edwards had been a principal dancer with a famous ballet company. There was a photo of her dancing in
Giselle
in Olivia's ballet book, which had been a present for her tenth birthday.

“Good morning, class. Let's begin,” said Miss Frances, giving a signal to the pianist. Olivia and Tamsin faced the barre and, along with everyone else, began doing pliés in time to the music.

Olivia felt herself relaxing as she concentrated on the familiar exercises. She had been doing these movements since she was four years old. She knew that even the greatest dancers did them, too, every single day.

Miss Frances walked around, adjusting the placement of a dancer's arm or leg. When she reached Olivia, she frowned. She made a chopping motion in the air and the piano stopped abruptly. “You!

Come out here,” she said sharply.

Olivia swallowed as she walked into the center of the studio.

“You're new, right? What's your name?” Miss Frances asked.

“Olivia Goddard,” Olivia answered. “It . . . it's my first day.”

“Then why didn't you come and introduce yourself?” The teacher's stern eyes raked Olivia's face. “It's very bad manners to just slip into my class without a word.”

“Slip into class? Gallop like a giraffe is more like it!” Lucy Castor snickered from where she was standing.

Olivia tried to pretend she hadn't heard. “I'm sorry, Miss Frances. I . . . I just didn't think,” she stammered, her face scarlet.

“Okay. Let's forget about it. Where did you take ballet lessons?” asked Miss Frances more gently.

Olivia told her and explained that she had been taking ballet lessons twice a week.

Miss Frances nodded slowly. “Well, you're going to have two classes a day now. So be prepared to work hard. You'll find ballet school to be very challenging.”