Inside the Shadow City (6 page)

Thanks to Naomi, watching The Five arrive at school each morning had become something of an Atalanta spectator sport. Nothing could send the Princess into a tantrum like seeing her best friend show up in a particularly flattering outfit. Sidonia would even
send Naomi home to change whenever she thought she was in danger of being outshone. A day or two of mean jokes always followed, just in case Naomi hadn't learned her lesson. On those days, it wasn't unusual to come across Naomi sobbing in the girls' room during classes. We learned very quickly to leave her alone. She may have been wounded, but she was still dangerous.

“Hey, Sidonia,” Naomi called. “I caught a prowler.”

A pair of kitten heels clicked against the tile floor. The Princess turned a corner and sauntered over to where I stood. She smiled sweetly, flashing her trademark dimples before pushing me back against the locker.

“Do I know you?” she sneered in her sinister accent as her yellow eyes looked me up and down.

I shook my head, too scared to speak.

“You're not in the ninth grade, are you?”

“Seventh,” I managed to mumble.

“Eww,” she said, taking a step back as if I were contaminated. “What's your name?”

“Ananka Fishbein.”

“It suits you. An ugly name for an ugly little girl.”

Naomi snickered at the Princess's joke.

“Now give me my ring,” the Princess demanded.

“I didn't take it, Sidonia.”

“Eww. She said my name. Don't do that again, piglet.” The Princess jabbed a finger into the ring of baby fat I was still hoping to lose. “If you aren't a thief, why are you breaking into my locker?”

“I'm not. I just wanted to see how she did it.” I whimpered.

“How
who
did it?” the Princess growled in frustration.

The door to the locker room swung open, and the voice of the principal echoed through the room.

“What in heaven's name is going on in here? Why aren't you girls in class?”

“We caught the person who stole my ring,” said the Princess, transforming back into her sweet little girl disguise. “We were just coming to turn her in.”

“Is that so?” said the principal. She was one of the few who were immune to the Princess's charms. Peering down at me, she almost smiled. “You're the girl in Ms. Jessel's class. The one who wants to study giant squid. Ananka, if I'm not mistaken.”

I nodded mutely.

“Squid,” giggled Naomi.

“That's enough,” demanded the principal. “Now, Ananka, is there any truth in what these two vigilantes are saying?”

“No, ma'am. I didn't steal anything.”

“She's a filthy little liar,” insisted the Princess. “We found her trying to break into my locker again. And look at what she's wearing. She could definitely use the cash.”

“Would you please empty your pockets for me, Ananka?” the principal sighed.

I dumped the contents of my pockets—three quarters, one barrette, my retainer, and a wad of lint—onto one of the locker room benches and allowed the principal to give me a quick frisking.

“So far she appears to be telling the truth,” the principal announced.

“Maybe she needs to be strip-searched,” offered Naomi.

“Why don't you both get back to class and let me do
the detective work?” the principal snapped. “Come along, Ananka. Let's go have a look in your locker.”

As the principal guided me toward the stairs, I caught a glimpse of the Princess's face. Her eyes bulged, her nostrils flared, and her mouth stretched into a mean smirk.

“You're dead, squid girl,” she mouthed silently.

Against my better judgment, I threw up on the principal's shoes.

• • •

I could have spared everyone a lot of trouble if I had chosen to rat on Kiki Strike. The Princess's mother was outraged that a common criminal was mingling with the heiresses at the Atalanta School. At her insistence, other lockers and backpacks were ransacked, with those of the scholarship girls particularly scrutinized. A locksmith's daughter was treated to an Inquisition-style grilling, and for days, everyone's eyes were on everyone else's hands. Throughout it all, I kept quiet, telling myself that a snitch is worse than a thief. But deep down inside, I simply hated the Princess too much to help her.

After a thorough search of my belongings failed to uncover the ring, I thought The Five might leave me alone. They didn't, of course. They stalked me for days, waiting patiently for the right moment to attack. No matter where I went, the Princess or one of her friends was always close by. They lingered in the library, whispering “squid girl” from behind outdated copies of
Lucky
magazine. As I navigated the hallways between classes, they followed in full formation, cackling cruelly if I happened to trip or drop a book. Eventually, I could barely pay a
visit to the restroom without being escorted by half the ninth grade.

On April 1, Sidonia finally made her move. Aside from the rotten squid I had discovered hanging in my locker that morning, it had been a relatively peaceful school day. When the last bell rang, I slowly gathered my things, giving the other girls plenty of time to clear the building. By the time I closed my locker and started for the exit, the halls were eerily empty.

I stepped outside, into the courtyard, and discovered where everyone had gone. They were all there, waiting for me, and at the head of the crowd stood The Five, dressed to the nines and ready for battle. The Princess stepped forward, her most glorious teacher-dazzling smile displayed in all its splendor.

“Well,
there
you are, squid girl!” she exclaimed in fraudulent friendliness as she linked her arm with mine and leaned in close. Her breath smelled of violets and toothpaste. “We've been looking all over for you!” I tried to break free, but she tightened her grip on my arm and with almost superhuman strength turned me to face the crowd. “We thought you might be busy stealing someone else's jewelry. You know, a little something special to go with that stunning outfit you've got on. Let me guess. Last season's Goodwill? Or did you have to mug a homeless person for it?”

She paused as if expecting an answer, and I desperately wanted to respond. I searched for something witty to say, but with so many eyes trained in my direction, my brain was barren. Instead, I stood there mutely. It wasn't my finest moment.

“Oh well,” the Princess continued. “Keep your fashion secrets to yourself. Listen, there's something we want to talk to you about. We've been keeping an eye on you lately, and well, we think you're damaging our school's reputation. I mean,
really,
squid girl, when are you going to go on a diet? Don't you know that fatties like you make the rest of us look bad?”

As Sidonia hurled her best insults at me, I noticed Kiki Strike standing at the edge of the crowd. It was the first time I had seen her in days. Unlike the other girls, who appeared riveted by the spectacle—some watching with amusement, others in sheer horror—Kiki paid no attention as she calmly jotted something down in her little black notebook. She glanced up at me briefly as she ripped the page out and folded it neatly. I saw Kiki hand the note to one of The Five, whisper in her ear, and disappear into the crowd.

The note was quickly passed to Sidonia, her friend practically drooling with excitement.

“Someone just gave this to me. She said it's some juicy information about Squidie here.”

Sidonia hastily unfolded the note and held it up for both of us to read. “Let's take a look, shall we?”

Written on the page were three terse sentences.

You're wasting your time. She's not the one you're after.
Have a look in your best friend's handbag.

Sidonia's jaw dropped and her precious dimples fled. Her professionally manicured hand crumpled the note into a tight ball.

“Who wrote this?” she shrieked.

“That girl over there,” stammered her frightened friend, pointing to an empty spot in the crowd. The sea of girls parted to avoid the finger. “I mean. She was there. She gave that to me.”

“
Who
was there?” demanded Sidonia.

“I don't know.”

“What do you mean, you don't know? Are you blind
and
stupid? What did she look like?”

“I didn't get a good look at her, Sidonia, but I think she might have been really short.”

“Just shut up. You're completely worthless,” snarled the Princess as she pushed the girl aside. “Naomi! Get over here now!”

The Princess snatched Naomi's handbag and dumped everything inside it onto the grass. She spread the contents around with her foot, and then bent down to pick up a coin purse. There, inside, was the pink diamond ring.

“I—I have no idea how it got there, Sidonia,” stammered Naomi, a hot red flush spreading across her entire body. “That weird-looking girl must have slipped it into my bag.”

The Princess's eyes narrowed, and she spoke in a carefully controlled voice. “What do you mean, ‘weird-looking'?”

“She's got white hair, and she's as pale as a ghost. I think I've seen her before. She's really creepy.”

“Let's go,” Sidonia said, jerking Naomi roughly by the arm. “I'm not done with you yet!” she stopped to shout in my face before forcing her way through the crowd to a
silver Bentley that was waiting for her outside the school gates.

After the Princess's departure, the crowd splintered into a dozen little groups as girls turned to their friends to marvel over what had happened. Thankfully, I was no longer the main attraction—everyone was taking guesses at the contents of the note and the identity of its mysterious author. I passed through the chattering mob and made my way to the safety of the street. I walked for blocks before I could think clearly. All I knew was that something miraculous had happened—and that Kiki Strike was responsible.

• • •

Night fell long before I reached Old St. Patrick's Cathedral, a few blocks north of my home. True darkness is rare in Manhattan, which at night remains in a state of permanent twilight. But set back from the street, away from the lights of passing cars, the cathedral squatted in the shadow of a massive wall that circled both the church and its graveyard. The entire block had the appearance of a medieval fortress, its upper reaches barely visible against the starless sky.

Whenever I passed by on my way home from school, the gates of the cathedral were always locked, allowing only a tantalizing glimpse of a cemetery teeming with moss-covered tombstones and marble monuments to the dead. As usual, I slowed my stride, and tried to peer through the gloom. What looked like a ghostly face peeked out from behind a tall tree just to the left of the entrance. I almost shrieked and started to run, but it only
took a few steps before my curiosity conquered my fear of the dark. I turned back toward the church, trying to convince myself that I hadn't seen anything that couldn't be explained by an eighth-grade science book.

The gates opened at my halfhearted touch. As I approached the tree, I was unnerved to see the face reappear, sporting a very unholy grin.

“Hello,” it said, and I jumped backward, stumbling over a tiny gravestone. The face laughed, and I realized it was attached to a small girl, her hair tucked beneath the hood of a black jacket. “A little late for church, aren't you?” asked Kiki Strike, stepping out from behind the tree and pulling back her hood.

“What are you doing here?” I asked stupidly.

“Waiting for you.”

“Oh,” I responded, finding it difficult to concentrate. I couldn't help thinking that she didn't look quite real. Up close, her skin was too pale, and her features too carefully crafted. She was, at the same time, both very pretty and extremely odd-looking. I asked the only question that popped into my head. “Why did you steal the ring?”

Kiki raised an eyebrow. “Didn't you learn anything today? It's not polite to accuse people of crimes they didn't commit.”

“So it was true about Naomi?”

“Of course it was. When a story's
that
good it's got to be true.”

“But how did you know that the ring was in Naomi's handbag?”

“I know a lot of things,” Kiki said matter-of-factly.

“About The Five?”

“Among others,” she replied in a slightly taunting tone.

“What are you getting at?” I demanded. “Are you saying you know something about me?”

For a moment she was quiet. Her pale eyes wandered across my face as if she were searching for something she'd seen before.

“Let's see. I know you're short on friends. I also know you're a little strange. And I figure you must be pretty bored, or you wouldn't have spent so much time following me around. But I know a few other things that make me think you might be very interesting.”

I couldn't tell whether I should be frightened or flattered. No one had ever found me interesting before.

“Is that good or bad?” I asked.

“That, Miss Fishbein, is entirely up to
you
.”

She handed me a slip of paper and then headed for the street, leaving me in front of the empty church, still thinking of all the questions I should have asked.

Halfway to the gates, Kiki turned and waved good-bye, her hand cupped in a familiar fashion. As far as I knew, only a small group of people shared the same style of wave. And since I was fairly sure that Kiki Strike wasn't a member of the British royal family, there was only one conclusion to reach. The shock hit me like a thundering wildebeest. Kiki Strike was the creature that had crawled out of the hole in front of my house. I wasn't the only person who had seen the Shadow City. She had gotten there first. For a moment, it seemed as if everything I had worked for had been stolen from me. Then I looked down
at the piece of paper I was holding.
Café des Amis, Saturday, 09:00,
it said. I had been invited to breakfast.