The Cultivated Girl

Chapter 29 - The Assassination

Waking up used to be a predictable, much anticipated activity for Simone. Wake up, jump out of bed and get on with the day. None of this lounging around, sleeping in late nonsense that other teenagers seemed to enjoy.

But ever since Sanctuary, Simone never knew what she'd wake up to. It was a good enough reason to pause for a few extra minutes. The last thing she remembered was Manu blowing smoke in her face but she was sure she could hear Amira's voice.

If I just keep my eyes closed, she thought, I can pretend I've been ill and dreaming. When I open my eyes my familiar white-washed, pressed ceiling, with its ornate black chandelier will be right above me. The three framed Giger prints I got in Switzerland will be on the wall. My clothes will be strewn all over the floor. Actually I'd quite like to tidy them away. Nada's right, I'm a bit of a slob.

"Simone, come on, you've got some serious studying to do."

Yup, that was Amira's voice. Always getting her to study. It must be Sunday which meant tomorrow was back to St Dominic's for another week. No such thing as Nada. She'd risk it. Simone opened her eyes.

Relief. Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes.

"My ceiling. My light. Amira, do I have school in the morning?"

"About time you woke up," said Amira curtly. "What are you talking about? Don't pretend you don't remember your mission. The powder wasn't that strong."

"You mean, Sanctuary was real?"

"Simone!" Amira sounded exasperated. "Get up, shower and get dressed. Something practical please. You have a flight to catch and you won't have time to change once you've left."

***

Simone fidgeted as she waited for her boarding call to New York. She was freshly scrubbed with her hair braided into a neat french plait, leggings tucked into zip-up, ankle-length biker boots. A chunky sweater hid the bone knife tucked into the small of her back. As promised by Amira, an enchantment stopped it from being picked up by Heathrow's airport security.

Simone thought back to their conversation.

"Why can't you just portal me there or something, like you did when I went to Sanctuary."

"There'll be a trace."

"But if I'm flying there's an even bigger trace."

"But not a magical one. It's not important here. Seriously Simone, don't you trust me? After everything I've done?"

"But Amira I don't understand, if I'm this perfect creature why am I so useless at the Sanctuary. Compared to Alexia, I'm a dunce."

"You have to believe to trigger the final evolution. And remember Alexia is a Sanctari. She's got fifteen years of training on you and that's your mother's fault."

Simone sighed. No point in getting angry again. She may as well grab a coffee while there was still time.

"Hey. Hey! It's Suzie isn't it?"

She looked up to see a red-headed girl descending on her, Prada bag in tow.

Oh, no, not now, she thought. It was one of the girls from St. Dominic's.

"Aren't you at St. Doms?"

"Uh-huh," she grunted, hoping the girl would get the hint. So much for that coffee.

"It's me, Lily. You look different. I like that beret you're rocking." When Simone didn't reply she added, "So Suze, where you going?"

She didn't bother correcting her. Simone was never one of the brainy crowd with their designer glasses and ennui, or the 'in crowd', or pretty enough to hang out with the sophisticated good looking girls. She did ok in sport but not brilliantly so she usually kept to herself, using prickly one-liners as a shield. It was easier that way.