The Secrets of Drearcliff Grange School by Kim Newman Read Free Book Online Page B

lost scrap of memory, unable to summon her old school’s word for ‘greens’) and at times far, far worse. She was here, this was (for the time being) her world, and that was that.
    She was a Drearcliff Girl.

VII: Kidnapped!
    B ECAUSE SHE WORE specs, Inchfawn was trusted with the map.
    This Thursday afternoon, Desdemona were at War with an unholy alliance of Tamora and Goneril. Ariel were supposed to be on their side, but had capitulated early. Viola were being Belgium, which meant standing in a field and blubbing rather than being bayonetted or importuned by Hunnish hordes.
    The berserkers of Tamora wore Art Room blue paint on their faces and brandished hockey sticks decorated with the skulls of shrews. Led by Zenobia Aire, the Fiend of the Fourth, they broke through the Desdemona lines with a great whooping, bashing, screaming attack. It was a rout.
    Amy, Kali, Smudge and Inchfawn were cut off from the rest of the House. They had fled to a wooded area outside School Grounds. Inchfawn found an overgrown path she promised was a shortcut back to HQ, but it ran downwards, turning into a small pebble-bed stream, and came out on the beach.
    There was a dramatic view of Drearcliff Grange, but no easy way to get up to it.
    Floating was an option – but Inchfawn and Smudge weren’t in on the secret, and Amy thought it best to keep them in the dark. Smudge, liable to exaggerate, would have Amy zooming about with her tail on fire like Hans von Hellhund, the Demon Ace.
    Inchfawn was potentially a Problem.
    Since Fossil had taken an interest in Amy’s Book of Moths, the teacher’s devoted disciple had been at best cold and at worst malicious. Jealousy was a terrible, terrible thing. Inchfawn was rather an unhappy girl and Amy of course felt sorry for her – but she was a drip and a millstone, a burden to the House and a liability to School.
    ‘Some shortcut, sister,’ snarled Kali. ‘Sure you ain’t rattin’ for Tamora? If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a dirty squealin’ rat. If there’s two things I can’t stand, it’s the wrigglin’ portions of a dirty squealin’ rat after she’s been chopped in half.’
    That was a bit strong, but Amy didn’t pipe up.
    She was cold, bruised and tired. Tuck had run out an hour ago. When they made it back to base, they were sure to be Black-Notched for straying out of bounds. Amy was not looking forward to scrubbing the Heel with her toothbrush. She only had the one, and would have to clean her teeth with what was left of it.
    At this rate, they might have to surrender. She hoped they could find a Goneril patrol to be captured by. Then, they’d be marched to neutral territory to sit out the War with the wets of Viola. It would be worse luck to run into a Tamora murder party.
    Inchfawn looked at the unrolled map again and shook her head. She offered it to Smudge, who was in her cell, but the other girl wouldn’t touch it.
    Inchfawn had obviously given up even trying to help.
    So far, Amy had stayed away from the beach. Shores were generally not moth country. The most notable landmark was the fallen tower, which was a way off, surrounded by ‘Danger – Keep Out’ signs. The coast was unevenly eroded, making seaside walks fraught with peril. There was always a risk of being cut off by the tide, which could swiftly transform open beach into a shrinking shingle bay, inaccessible except by boat or climb. Cliff-base caves tempted the adventurous explorer – but they’d been warned against them because, at high tide, the waters washed in and anyone inside would certainly drown.
    It was said the caves were used in olden days by smugglers, though Amy supposed smuggling more likely on coasts facing France or Holland than one in sight of South Wales. A few wave-cut overhangs were on their way to becoming caves or catastrophic collapses. Chunks of rock often detached from the cliffs and fell on the beach. School legend had it that two teachers were squashed during a