Rebel Angels - Page 77/158


Ann shows us her work. Claire McCleethy Let Her Claim Ccy I'm Clear Celt Hey C Ye Thrice Calm Cel The Mai Cire Leccy

Felicity laughs. "These certainly make no sense. Let Her Claim Ccy? Mal Cire?"

"Cire is a type of fabric. Mal means bad," Ann answers proudly.

I'm still looking at the page. There's something oddly familiar about it, something that makes the hair stand up at the back of my neck.

Ann pulls another C down. It makes Circe. "Try the whole name." I say.

Once again, Ann writes out the name and cuts the letters into small squares that can be moved about. She tries several combinations--Circe Lamcleethy, Circe the Lamcley, Circe the Mal Cley, Circe the Ye Call M.

"Place the Y after The." I instruct.

Circe They E Call M.

Ann shifts the letters around till they read: They Call Me Circe.

We stare in astonishment.

"Claire McCleethy is an anagram." Ann whispers.

Felicity shudders."Circe's come back to Spence."

"We've got to find the Temple." I say."And quickly."

Pippa's sitting with the gorgon when we arrive in the realms. "Look, I've made you all crowns! They're my Christmas gifts to you!" Her arms are ringed with small circles of flowers, which she places on our heads."Lovely!"

"Oh, they are perfect, Pip," Felicity coos.

"And I've kept your enchanted arrows safe and sound," Pip says, slipping the quiver onto Felicity's back. "Shall we take a trip on the river again?" "No, I think not." I answer. The gorgon swivels her green face in my direction for a moment.

"No travels today, Most High?" she hisses.

"No, thank you," I say. I am reminded of our last voyage, of that moment of hesitation. I do not know if I can trust the great beast who once led a rebellion against the Order. There was a reason for them to imprison her.

I motion for the others to follow me to the garden. The toadstools have gotten fatter. Some of them seem near to bursting.

"We've found our teacher's name is an anagram for They Call Me Circe." Felicity tells Pippa, after giving her all the news of our day.

"How exciting!" Pip says. "I wish I had been there to follow her. That was quite brave of you."

"Do you suppose Mrs. Nightwing is suspect too?" Felicity asks."They are friends."

"I hadn't thought of that," I say, troubled.

"She didn't want us to know anything about the Order! That's why she dismissed Miss Moore," Pippa says. "Perhaps Mrs. Nightwing has something to hide."

"Or perhaps she doesn't know anything about it," Ann says. Mrs. Nightwing has been the only mother she's ever known. I know what it is to have that certainty about someone you love taken from you.

"Mrs. Nightwing was a teacher at Spence when Sarah and Mary were there. What if she's been helping Sarah all the while, waiting for a time when she could return?" Felicity says.

"I d-don't like this talk," Ann stammers.

"What if-"

"Fee," I interrupt, giving a quick sideways glance to Ann. "I think for now we'd best be about finding the Temple. Nell Hawkins said we should look for a path. Have you seen any path round here, Pip?" I ask. Pip gives me a quizzical look."Who is Nell Hawkins?"

"A lunatic at Bedlam," Ann answers. "Gemma thinks she knows where to find the Temple. "

Pippa laughs."You're joking!"

"No," I say, going red."Have you seen a path?"

"Hundreds. What sort of path are we looking for?"

"I don't know. The true path. That was all she said."

"That's not much help," Pippa says, sighing. "There is one that leads out from the garden that I've not taken yet."

"Show me," I say.

The one she speaks of is but a narrow lane that seems to disappear in a wall of leafy green. It is slow and arduous. With each step, we've got to push aside the broad leaves and fat beige stalks that leave thin ribbons of sap on our hands till we're sticky as treacle.

"What a chore," Pippa moans. "I hope this is the right way. I'd hate to think we've done all this work for nothing."

A stalk hits me square in the face.

"What did you say?" Felicity asks.

"Me? I've said nothing," I answer.

"I heard voices."

We stop. I hear it too. Something's moving in the heavy thicket. Suddenly, it seems a bad idea to have come this way without knowing a thing about it. I put out a hand to stop my friends. Felicity reaches for an arrow. We're tight as piano strings.