Obsidian Pebble (16 page)

“You're a genius, Ellie,” Oz said.

“Yeah, I know,” Ellie said with a dramatic sigh. “I vote we go and look at it on Saturday.”

“This is so weird,” Ruff said. “I'm sure I've seen that E-shaped thing somewhere, too. Just can't think where.”

Oz shrugged. “I only wish I knew what it all meant.”

“We'll find out, I know we will,” Ellie said.

Oz wished he had her confidence.

There was English homework, but Oz didn't really mind because all he had to do was write a paragraph on Charles Dickens' spooky story about a Signalman who kept getting premonitions. He heard the phone ring downstairs and didn't think twice about it; he was too busy trying to work out what saturnine meant. But when he heard a firm knock on his door a few minutes later, he almost jumped out of his skin.

His mother opened the door and stepped in. She wore a serious, troubled expression. “Oz, I've just got off the phone with the deputy head, Miss Swinson,” Mrs. Chambers said.

“The Volcano? What did she want?”

“She rang to tell me that your maths teacher has contacted her. You re-sat your maths test today, didn't you?”

“Yeah,” Oz said, intrigued.

“You got one hundred percent.”

After long, ticking seconds of shocked silence, Oz got up from the chair, punched the air and let out a whoop and a triumphant, “Yesss!”

Mrs. Chambers looked on, bemused.

“So the Volcano rang to congratulate me?” Oz said finally, after realising that his mother wasn't exactly sharing in his ecstatic display of victory.

“Dare I ask why you call her that?” asked Mrs. Chambers warily.

“‘Cos she blows up when you least expect it,” Oz stated.

Mrs. Chambers let out an uncertain, “Hmmm,” and came and sat on the edge of Oz's bed. “Well, anyway, she said that Mr. Boggs was…uncomfortable with what had happened.”

Suddenly, all the elation drained out of Oz like water from a leaky bucket. “Are they trying to say that I cheated?”

“No one has actually come out with it, but yes, I suppose that is what they're saying,” Mrs. Chambers said unhappily.

Oz was on his feet in an instant. “That's just rubbish, Mum,” he said, feeling his cheeks start to burn. “I don't know how I did it, I just did. And I did revise last week, you know I did, but on Friday it was all muddled, and today…it just wasn't.”

“So, no cheating?”

“I swear I did not cheat,” Oz said, his voice rising.

“So today, when you re-sat, things just clicked. Is that it?” Mrs. Chambers asked, her eyes boring into Oz's.

“Exactly. Things just clicked…well, more like sort of moved about in colour in my head. But that's what happened. Suddenly I knew what to do.”

It was as good an explanation as any, because it was the truth and Oz couldn't think of any other way to say it. Mrs. Chambers held Oz in her steady gaze for a long ten seconds before getting up off the bed and holding him in a hug. “Then that's what I'm going to tell the Volcano when I ring her back. But I've got a feeling they may want to talk to you at school about this as well.”

“Great,” Oz said, his eyes rolling up towards the ceiling as he let out a sigh.

After his mother left, Oz sat and pondered. He hadn't thought about the maths thing that much, but he could understand that, to Boggs, it must have appeared very strange indeed. Still, that didn't change anything. What had happened, as weird as it was, had happened. He felt his insides tingle with the memory of it. And as his mum always said, you should never look a gift horse in the mouth, even if it is totally bonkers.

He finished off the essay and then went up to the library. He was still utterly convinced that the answers to the footsteps and the weird appearances on the laptop were going to be found somewhere in this room, hidden amidst all the words on these shelves. He paused to look at the ornate carvings of letters and shapes on the panelled walls, all completely illegible to him, and which his dad had said were a mixture of alchemical and astrological symbols.

Oz leaned his forehead against the dark oak and closed his eyes. All was quiet except for the faint moaning of the wind outside and the ticks and pops of the house's ancient plumbing. But then he heard another noise, one which made his heart stutter in his chest. It was faint, but it was enough to make him catch his breath and turn to press his ear against the wood. He strained, barely swallowing for fear of missing it. Then, from somewhere deep below in the bowels of the old orphanage, faint but definite, came once more the echoing footfalls that he and Ruff and Ellie had heard on Halloween. He stayed in the library for another half an hour pressing his ear to the paneling, but heard nothing more.

Finally, Oz looked out of the turret window over the pitched roof and parapets and spindly chimneys of the orphanage. Somewhere beneath that slate and stone was a mystery waiting to be solved. But then doubt reared its gargoyle head. Had he really heard the footsteps that second time? Was it just that he so desperately wanted to believe that this was all tied up with his dad that he was beginning to invent things? He shook his head to rid himself of the nagging voice. There was something in that orphanage. Something strange and intriguing that was begging to be found out. Glancing up, he saw a face in the glass and for a heart-stopping moment was convinced he was looking at a total stranger. But it was only his reflection that stared back at him, and it, too, had no answers to his questions.

* * *

The next morning, Oz and the rest of the students on his bus were late getting to registration because of some failed traffic lights on Rosemount Hill. When he finally made it, Ellie mouthed, “Where have you been?” As he sat down next to her she leaned across and managed to whisper, “I've found something else out,” before Miss Arkwright began reminding everyone that the final installment of money for the end of January skiing trip needed to be in by Friday.

“That's you, Dilpak, and you, Sandra, I think.”

Both potential skiers nodded while Ruff eyed them wistfully and muttered, “The only time I expect I'll ever go skiing is if Seabourne Hill freezes over and they give out free ski passes to over sixty-fives.” Oz had no chance of finding out what Ellie had to say, because Miss Arkwright was calling his name above the clamour of the mass exodus to first lesson.

“Oscar, can you stay behind for a moment, please?”

Oz had his back to her and made eyes to the ceiling in response to Ellie and Ruff's questioning glances just before he turned around.

“Yes, miss?”

“Miss Swinson wants to see you sometime this morning,” she said. “Something about a maths test?”

Oz nodded glumly.

“Didn't you do very well?” she asked.

“Got one hundred percent, miss. Badg…Mr. Boggs thinks it's fishy.”

“Really?” said Miss Arkwright, looking surprised. “And is it?”

“No, miss.”

“I see. Well, I'm sure it'll be fine,” she said, and gave Oz a reassuring smile while her eyes stayed flintily suspicious.

He'd almost forgotten about it by the time it came to third lesson. They were in geography. It was one of Oz's favourite subjects, thanks largely to the teacher, Mr. Gingell. He, unlike Badger Breath, managed to make even the driest subject interesting. Today was no exception as he announced to the class as soon as they arrived, in his best Long John Silver, “Why can't pirates read maps?” He paused expectantly before adding, “Because they think it's too aaarrrd.”

The class let out a communal but good-natured groan.

“But they be wrong, mateys. Today we're revising grid referencing and compass points. Divide into groups of three and answer the quiz sheet to find the treasure.”

It looked like it was going to be fun, but before the trio could settle in, Mr. Gingell called Oz out to the front. He was quite young as teachers went, knew quite a lot about music and films, and supported Seabourne United. Rumour had it, too, that he and Miss Arkwright were more than just friends, or so Ellie said. He looked apologetic as he spoke in a low voice so that no one else could hear.

“Miss Swinson apparently wants to see you straight away,” he said, and on seeing Oz's face fall added, “Don't worry, they'll still be doing this quiz in half an hour. There'll be plenty to do when you come back, arrr.”

Oz couldn't help thinking that Mr. Gingell was missing the point a bit as he stifled an inward groan and sent Ruff and Ellie a dejected glance before trudging out into the empty corridors. The Volcano's office was situated in the admin block, where two bespectacled secretaries regarded Oz with humourless expressions. Oz decided that this must be the feeling condemned men got when they walked to the electric chair. Near the main doors he turned into a long, freshly painted corridor.

The Volcano lived two doors down from the headmaster—a tall, constantly grinning man who seemed always to be in a hurry and whom Oz had only seen half a dozen times in the whole of his time at Seabourne County. The same could not be said of the Volcano, whose presence was a constant reminder of the need for “discipline.” She was forever bellowing at pupils across hallways, classrooms, fields and yards, unable, it seemed, to speak with anything approaching a normal volume. Instead, she barked orders such as “Pull down that skirt hem, you are not a pelmet,” or “Tuck in that shirt, you are not a tramp,” or “Pick up that piece of litter, this is not a rubbish tip.” In fact, Oz couldn't remember her ever
asking
anyone to do anything. It was always an instruction.

When Oz reached the door with the sign “Miss V Swinson, Senior Mistress” emblazoned upon it, all he could think about was how hard his heart was beating in his chest. It felt as if it might burst through at any moment. But he told himself that he was just being stupid. He hadn't done anything wrong and he had nothing to worry about. Okay, having your wisdom teeth out without anaesthetic was probably a more pleasant way to spend a morning than being interviewed by the Volcano, but so what? Her bark was a hundred times worse than her bite—or so he'd heard. And what was the worst that could happen? As far as he knew, the Volcano had never killed anyone—yet.

Oz knocked three times.

“Come,” barked a voice.

Oz opened the door and stepped inside a room that was more like someone's lounge than a school office. There were at least three vases full of flowers, it smelled overpoweringly of roses, and the walls were painted a sickly burnt yellow. Two huge posters of exotic islands covered one wall. Three big grey filing cabinets stood one against another, and in the centre stood an enormous desk with a neat pile of paper on it and three pot plants, one of which was the biggest cactus Oz had ever seen. The Volcano was standing behind her desk, dressed in a voluminous silk blouse and pearls, her coiffed hair poker-stiff. She wore black-rimmed half-glasses perched on a vulture-like nose and her scarlet mouth was compressed into a familiar, disapproving expression.

“Come in, Chambers. You know why I've asked you here this morning, I take it?” The Volcano glared down at him, her eyes half-lidded, her voice accusatory.

Oz shrugged.

“It is at the request of another teacher. An unusual and unpleasant request, which—”

There was another knock on the door and it opened to reveal Badger Breath Boggs. He scowled at Oz and nodded at the Volcano.

“Ah, Douglas. Have a seat.”

Badger Breath sat to the side of the desk while Oz continued to stand.

The Volcano leaned forward over the desk. “Mr. Boggs has brought to my attention a very serious allegation—”

“I didn't cheat,” Oz said, “if that's what this is about.”

The room fell silent. The Volcano's mouth twitched and she shuffled some papers on the desk and thrust one towards Oz.

“This is yours, is it not?”

Oz recognised the first test paper with the ten percent circled at the top right.

“Yes, miss.”

The Volcano found a second and handed that to him, as well. “And this?”

Oz read the much smaller one hundred percent written at the top of this second paper. The numbers were written in such a way as to suggest that the hand writing it had pressed very hard into the paper. He saw, too, his own familiar writing beneath.

“Yes, miss.”

“Mr. Boggs has brought to my attention the quite startling difference between these results which, you have to admit, are quite remarkable.”

Oz shrugged. “I still didn't cheat.”

“Rubbish,” growled a red-faced Badger Breath, who jerked around in his seat to glare at Oz.

“Douglas,” said the Volcano in a silky voice, “I share your suspicions, but I am prepared to give Chambers one chance to explain.”

Boggs' jaw muscles started working overtime, but he nodded reluctantly and sat back.

“Now, what we need is to understand how you could do so badly one day and so spectacularly well the next,” the Volcano said, peering at Oz, her eyes glinting in challenge.

“I don't know, really. It just sort of clicked.”

“Oh, puh-lease,” sneered Badger Breath.

“‘It just clicked,'” repeated the Volcano. She looked at the papers. “A very spectacular click it must have been, then, to go from ten to one hundred percent, eh?” She glanced at Badger Breath, who smirked. “Had you done any extra revision?” the Volcano snapped, turning back to Oz.

“No, not really. I mean, I did for the first one, but Mr. Boggs didn't warn us about the second one…”

“Did you copy from anyone?”

“The boy sitting next to me was Lee Jenkins. I don't know how much he got second time around.”

The Volcano sent Badger Breath a questioning glance and got a mumbled, “Eight percent,” in reply.

“I see,” said the Volcano quietly. “So you want us to believe that some mysterious brainwave suddenly enabled you to get every single one of these questions right, where two days before you got them all, bar a few pathetic workings out, completely WRONG?”