Obsidian Pebble (17 page)

The last word was roared with such force that it made Oz jump. The Volcano came around to Oz's side of the desk. She wore trousers that were bulging in lots of places and she smelled strongly of a pungent, flowery perfume, which clashed nauseatingly with the rosy air-freshener pervading the room.

“I know all about you and your kind, Chambers,” the Volcano snarled. “Single-parent families are the bane of this school and…”

She was interrupted by a knock on the door, which opened to reveal Miss Arkwright, out of breath and flushed in the face.

“Ah, I see you've started already,” Miss Arkwright gasped.

“Miss Arkwright,” said the Volcano in a syrupy voice, “do join us.”

“Thank you,” said Miss Arkwright, frowning. “I thought we'd agreed on 11.30 as a start time?”

“Yes,” said the Volcano with a smile as genuine as a wax apple, “sorry about that. Had to reschedule. Never mind, you're here now. But Chambers here has no explanation for what happened. We must therefore assume that he did cheat, as it is clearly impossible for him to have been otherwise able to complete this question paper after such an abysmal performance previously. It is my job to consider an appropriate punishment…”

“Did you cheat, Oz?” Miss Arkwright asked.

“No. Like I said, it just clicked that second time,” Oz explained.

Badger Breath let out an expulsion of air.

“Well, there is a very simple way to sort all of this out,” Miss Arkwright said suddenly.

The Volcano frowned. Badger Breath scowled. Miss Arkwright picked up Oz's ten percent paper. “How many questions did you attempt the first time, Oscar?”

“Three. I got a bit stuck.”

“Good. So if I asked you to try the last seven now, could you do them?”

Oz froze. He had no idea if he could or not. Yesterday's test seemed to have happened almost without him doing anything. But he nodded and gulped at the same time.

“Excellent. Here is a fresh piece of paper and a pencil,” said Miss Arkwright, clearing a space for Oz on the edge of the desk.

“I hardly think…” began the Volcano, but she was silenced by Miss Arkwright's implacable gaze.

“Surely this is the only way to know if Oz is lying or not?”

The room fell silent as Miss Arkwright's logic sank in.

“Very well,” the Volcano said finally with a glance at Badger Breath.

Miss Arkwright turned to Oz and spoke to him. “Now Oz, take your time.”

Oz looked at the maths paper, his stomach twisting. The last seven questions, Miss Arkwright had said. First glance revealed Egyptian tomb writing as usual. He knew that the first one was a substitution question and he knew vaguely what needed to be done, it was just that…and then the numbers started changing colour just as they had yesterday. Relief flooded through Oz and he began scribbling furiously. Within ten minutes he'd done all seven. He handed the paper back to Miss Arkwright.

“That was quick,” she said, but there was an approving smile at the corners of her mouth as she said it. “Now, if Mr. Boggs could do the marking?”

They all watched as Badger Breath scanned the page. When he spoke, his voice sounded like ice cracking on a lake. “They're all correct.”

Miss Arkwright was on her feet immediately. “Right, I think we've detained Oscar for long enough. He needs to get back to lessons.”

“I'm not so sure…” spluttered the Volcano.

“There's something fishy going on here,” Badger Breath said, and his words emerged through a tightly clenched jaw.

“Apparently it's called ‘clicking,' Douglas,” said Miss Arkwright as she began ushering Oz out of the door. But even as it closed behind them, Oz could hear Badger Breath's whining complaints persisting. “But he's an idiot. Like all the rest in that set. Probably did this just to make my life a misery.”

“I agree totally, Douglas. And Chambers is a prime example of everything that's wrong in this town and in this country. The boy's mother is…”

Miss Arkwright cleared her throat loudly and it drowned out what the Volcano was about to say. At the end of the corridor, Miss Arkwright stopped and turned to Oz. He could see that she was gently fuming, the smile which beamed down on him a bit too toothy and overly bright. “Well done, Oz. And I want you to take no notice of what you just heard. Go back to geography. I just want a quick word with Miss Swinson and Mr. Boggs.” Oz watched as she pivoted on her heel and stormed back up the corridor. He didn't wait to hear anymore. He was too relieved to care.

When, an hour later sitting in the refectory, Oz managed to find the time to tell Ellie and Ruff about Badger Breath's accusations, they were appalled. Ellie seemed a little more short-tempered than usual with Ruff, but listened avidly to Oz as he explained.

“That man is such a buzzard gonk,” Ruff muttered.

“And the Volcano is such an old witch,” Ellie said, frowning.

“Miss Arkwright was brilliant, though,” Oz said with feeling.

“But did you really get one hundred percent?” Ellie said, trying not to sound too surprised.

“I know. Don't worry, I can't believe it either.” Oz grinned.

“Oz has turned into a maths genius,” Ruff said, and clapped him heartily on the back.

“Never mind that now,” Oz said, turning to Ellie. “You said you'd found something out.”

“I have,” Ellie said, dropping her voice low. “Remember I told you I thought it looked like some of my granny's jewellery?”

Oz and Ruff both nodded.

“Well, I showed her a picture and she said it looked like a scarab—”

“A scarab?” Oz asked.

“Yeah. When she was young, lots of jewellery was made to look like Egyptian stuff—”

“Whoa,” Ruff said, holding up a hand. “What's a scarab when it's at home?”

“Haven't you come across one of those in
Ancient Tombs 503
for the Xbox?” she sniped. “A scarab is a beetle. The ancient Egyptians wore them as amulets or something and they became popular again in the last century. It was just a fashion thing.”

“We are getting to the point soon, are we?” Ruff said, feigning a yawn.

Ellie sent him a blazing look. “A scarab is a beetle, and the old name for a common English beetle is a dor.”

“You've lost me,” Ruff said.

“What a surprise,” Ellie said, sighing heavily. “Watch my lips.” She proceeded with exaggerated slowness. “The. Black. Dor. One of Morsman's artefacts?”

“Oh, so you mean dor, not door. Like in when is a door not a door, when it's ajar?” asked Ruff, earning a withering glance from Ellie in the process.

Oz, who happened to be standing next to one of the refectory tables, ignored Ruff, too, but had to sit down on a bench. “So are you saying that those things on my laptop have something to do with Morsman's artefacts?”

“I think that what's on your laptop is everything to do with Morsman's artefacts,” Ellie said confidently.

“But why my laptop?”

“Because you're at Penwurt, and something or someone there is trying to send you a message, obviously.”

“And you think that this dor thingy is in a shop in Seabourne?”

“Worth a look, surely.”

“What are the chances of it really being the one? I mean, come on,” Ruff said.

“Shut up, Ruff,” Ellie said, nettled. “You're such a doom-merchant. Yes, I do think it's in a shop in Seabourne, and the only way we're going to find out for certain is if you go there this weekend.”

“What do you mean, ‘you'?” Ruff asked.

“You and Oz. I'm busy.”

Oz frowned.

“Oh, come on,” Ellie said, flushing a dusky red. “You two don't need me tagging along. I'm just a girl, after all, remember? I mean, you don't want me there being all hysterical and overreacting.” She gave Ruff a pointed, icy smile and walked off.

“What was that all about?” Oz asked, shaking his head. “I feel like I've just been slapped in the face just for wearing a pair of trousers.”

Ruff was looking very uncomfortable. “Last night at football practice we sort of had an…argument.”

“Sort of had an argument? About what?”

“I can't remember now. We were in passing practise and someone texted me, so I just answered it and…”

“You were texting during passing practise?” Oz's incredulity made his voice high and weird-sounding.

“I forgot to turn my phone off, that's all,” Ruff said, as if that sort of thing happened all the time. But Oz couldn't ever remember seeing anyone taking a call when Spain played Netherlands in the World Cup final. Ruff, though, hadn't finished. “I did after that. Turn the phone off, I mean. The coach gave me a roasting. Said I needed to prioritize. Think more about the team than myself,” he sighed. “But then Ellie started in on me.”

“And?”

“And we had an argument about stuff like attitude and wanting to win and I…I may have said that she was overreacting. Like, always overreacting. I mean, what is it with her and wanting to win all the time? I like to win, too, but it isn't everything, is it?'

“It is to Ellie. You do know that she is really good at taekwondo, don't you?'

“Yeah, but…”

“I mean, really good. She's won the last three competitions she's entered.”

Ruff was still frowning.

Oz decided that it was time to come clean. “If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone?”

“‘Course.”

“Some of her coaches think that Ellie might be good enough to be an international; you know, represent her country, eventually.”

“An international? Wow.” Ruff's eyes blinked rapidly.

“She hasn't told anyone except me. Not her sisters or her mother or father or anyone. But I'm telling you so that you can understand why she is like she is.” Oz paused and then added, “Have you met the other Messengers?”

“No,” Ruff said, “except for Macy.”

“They're great. A good laugh. But there're five of them.”

“Five?”

“Macy's the only other one in school.”

“Yeah, I know. She's the pretty one that keeps waving at you and blowing kisses, right?”

“Yeah,” Oz rolled his eyes. Macy derived great pleasure from teasing Oz and seeing him squirm with embarassament. “The point is that Ellie's right in the middle of that family and sport is her way of being different and standing out.”

“Yeah, but…”

“I'm not saying it's right that she wants to kill someone every time she loses at ping-pong, I'm just trying to explain.”

“Okay, so now I understand. Sort of.”

Oz sighed. “Right, so does that mean you'll apologise? We need Ellie.”

“She called me a waste of space. So yeah, I'll apologise, in, like, a hundred buzzard years,” he said, and walked off to join the rest of 1C queuing outside the art room.

* * *

Oz spent a miserable hour in art trying to finish off the landscape he was working on. He was so preoccupied he didn't even notice that he'd started to use red paint instead of white for the snow on the mountains. When he did finally twig, he couldn't even be bothered to change it.

He just could not understand what was wrong with Ellie and Ruff. They were both great. It was just that they were so different. He'd hoped that Penwurt and the puzzle of the images might have been enough to make them forget their differences, but it clearly wasn't.

The frosty atmosphere persisted though lunch and Oz, despite desperately wanting to discuss the dor and the other artefacts, decided that now was not the best time. He stayed away from them both and neither one made much effort to come and find him.

He got to room 33 as late as possible after lunch to find Ellie in animated conversation with Sandra Ojo, and Ruff discussing
Death Planet Hub
tactics with Marcus Skyrme. Oz made no effort to break into either conversation and was quite glad when Miss Arkwright flounced in at last. She immediately walked across the room towards a group of girls.

“Ellie, could I have a quick word?” she asked.

Ellie went with Miss Arkwright to the front of the class and an earnest, whispered conversation took place. Oz couldn't hear, but he watched as a range of different expressions flashed across Ellie's face. There was curiosity, followed by mild panic and then, after a moment's thought, nods of enthusiasm. Ellie came back to her seat, but did not acknowledge Oz's nosy glance.

“Right, 1C. I'd like to discuss a little project for Christmas with you all.”

Multiple groans emanated from the class.

“No, not that kind of project. It doesn't involve any homework. Now, we were all thrilled by the London Paralympics this year, weren't we?”

Several people said “Yes,” out loud.

“Well, I have a close friend who is a doctor—a surgeon, in actual fact. She's been doing some work with limbless children in the poorest regions of Africa. She told me last night that just £30 would buy an artificial limb for one of these children. So I thought that, as a group, it would be a really nice gesture if, instead of sending your friends Christmas cards, you bring in the stamp money so that we can send a charitable donation.”

“Will it be one of those blade thingys like in the Paralympics, miss?” asked someone.

“Oh, wow. I want one of those,” said Skinner from the back. “They're awesome.”

Ellie swiveled around to glare at him.

“What?” Skinner replied, in his usual thick-skinned way. There was no real harm in Skinner, he just had no control over what came out of his mouth.

“There are many, many children who would benefit, but all I'm asking is that we help one,” Miss Arkwright continued.

“Why have they lost their limbs, miss?” asked Dilpak.

“Well, some through disease, but mainly it's through violence. My doctor friend has been working around the Great Lakes of West Africa. It's an area ravaged by war. Some children have stepped on buried land mines while out playing, or worse, where there is still conflict, they may have suffered from direct attack.”