‘Here we are.’ Ivy’s grandmother kissed her cheek. ‘I will leave you to it. This decision has to be yours and yours alone. I don’t want you to feel as if I’m hovering over you, pressuring you one way or the other.’ She peered at Ivy from underneath an elegant, wide-brimmed hat.
Ivy gazed up at the towering iron gates of Wallachia Academy. The Countess had crept into Ivy’s room early that morning and rapped on her coffin. Apparently her grandmother didn’t know about her strict policy against activities pre-9 a.m. After Ivy had bolted down a quick breakfast of plasma pancakes, Horatio had driven the two of them here. Now she was completely overwhelmed by the spindly turrets and stone gargoyles of the old, Gothic buildings.
Large bats and a thorny rose-stem design were carved into the wrought-iron gates, supported by two massive pillars. In the middle was the same crest Ivy had been obsessing over every day on her computer – two bats on either side of a blood-red shield. Ivy felt like she was dreaming. After imagining it and thinking about it almost constantly, here she was, actually at Wallachia.
Should I go or should I not? That had been the persistent question on Ivy’s mind, and this visit was the biggest step yet towards making that decision.
Ivy squeezed her grandmother’s hand. ‘I’ll see you soon,’ she said. ‘And I promise to give it a fair chance.’
The Countess smiled. ‘That’s all I ask.’
The gates creaked as they were dragged open by a tall, spooky vampire in a dark-grey suit, who looked like he might have been related to Horatio. Here goes nothing. Ivy waved one last goodbye to the Countess and Horatio – who showed no sign of recognising the spooky vampire – before stepping inside. The campus was quiet and peaceful, like a fancy cemetery without the headstones. Pristine emerald lawns stretched as far as she could see, and neatly raked gravel crunched beneath her feet on the drive. Flags bearing the school motif fluttered from the towers and the mullioned windows winked in the sunlight. This place makes Franklin Grove look cheap and nasty! she thought, remembering how impressed Olivia had been when she’d first seen the school’s ivy-covered pillars back at home. Wallachia Academy was off the scale.
Ivy suddenly felt very self-conscious in her jeans and black T-shirt. Perhaps I should have gone with my wrap dress, after all . . .
‘Welcome to Wallachia Academy, Miss Vega,’ said Horatio Two. ‘I trust you will enjoy your visit.’ If only Olivia were here! She would have been super-scared of the old-school vamp. Ivy felt a stab of sorrow. This was an area of her life that Olivia would never be able to be a part of.
Ivy forced the thought out of her mind. She had promised her grandmother she would put her best foot forward. Forcing an Olivia-style smile on her face, she continued up the impossibly long and curving walkway that led to the main building.
‘Wallachia Academy was founded by Vladimir Ivanov, the longest-living vampire of all time.’ Horatio Two trailed one step behind her, reciting the school’s history. They passed a large stone sculpture of a stern-looking vampire riding a stately-looking horse. ‘The Academy,’ he continued, ‘has produced some of the finest vampire thespians, artists and Nobel laureates. In fact, it was right here under this very stone archway that Shakespeare wrote his first sonnet.’
‘Shakespeare was a vampire?’ Ivy spluttered.
Horatio Two leaned in and lowered his voice. ‘In an early draft of Romeo and Juliet, the Montagues were based on a very well-regarded family here in Transylvania.’ Woah! Just wait until I tell Sophia, Ivy thought. She’ll be amazed! Then Ivy’s heart sank a little bit – she had no idea when she’d be seeing her friend next. Ivy felt cast adrift without her old friends, and so far she had no new friends at all.
The sound of their footsteps echoed on the black-and-white marble floors as Horatio Two led Ivy inside to a cavernous reception area.
‘You may have a seat, Miss Vega.’ He gestured to a row of what Ivy could only describe as thrones. At least, they were the plushest chairs she had ever seen in a waiting room. ‘Your guide will be with you shortly.’
Ivy climbed on to one of the red velvet chairs, feet dangling awkwardly. The room was deadly silent and Ivy took the opportunity to look around. A sparkling chandelier hung from the ceiling and a full-sized coat of armour stood guarding the doorway. Ivy felt very small and – worse – she realised she was slouching in the swanky chair. One does not slouch one’s body in such elegant surroundings! Ivy thought, practising her best Wallachia-appropriate way of talking. She sat up straight, tapping her fingers on the chair’s slick mahogany arm, then went back to slouching. She would sit how she liked – fancy room or not! Ivy sighed, shaking her head. Maybe she was overreacting. She had almost started an argument . . . with herself . . . in an empty room . . .
Talk about over-thinking things!
But she was still confused about the entire situation. She wanted to know more about her vampire self, but she definitely didn’t want to have the ‘Ivy’ beaten out of her.
‘I heard you were visiting today.’ Ivy jumped in her seat, turning to the door in time to see Petra slinking inside.
Instantly, Ivy felt better – more positive. ‘Are you going to be my guide?’
Petra wore a pristine, classical-style school uniform, one that Ivy was not looking forward to wearing. The whole red pleated skirt and knee-high sock thing was so not her style. Petra grinned wickedly. ‘I will be . . . in a minute.’
Just then, a receptionist with a tight bun and shiny black shoes clacked into the waiting room carrying a clipboard. ‘Ivy Vega?’ she asked.
Before Ivy could respond, Petra was skipping her way over to the woman. ‘Miss Dina,’ she said sweetly. ‘Excuse me, but there’s been a slight change of plan.’ She reached over and pointed to a spot on Miss Dina’s clipboard. ‘Ursula can’t make it and she asked me to take today’s tour. Is that all right?’
Ivy held her breath. She realised from the way Petra grinned a moment ago that her new friend was probably lying. But Miss Dina just scribbled something on her clipboard and said, ‘Very well. Make sure to have Miss Vega back on time, please.’ If lying were a sport, Petra would be a professional! She managed to get one past an adult vamp!
Petra winked at Ivy. ‘Follow me,’ she said, beckoning with one finger. Ivy sprang out of the chair and followed Petra through the great double doors and out into an arching hallway with flickering lanterns.
Maybe this place wouldn’t beat the ‘Ivy’ out of her. Petra still seemed to have plenty of personality. Even if a part of that personality happened to be a talent for telling lies.
Olivia leaned against the massive doorway of the Great Hall in the Lazars’ home. She remembered the Valentine’s Ball from earlier in the year. The hall had been decorated with deep red roses and candles that cast a romantic glow throughout the room, but the most memorable part of the evening had been when her bio-dad had been reconciled with his parents after years of not speaking. Tomorrow, it would be the scene of the wedding of Prince Alex and soon-to-be-Princess Tessa. Olivia tried to imagine what it would look like once all the preparations were finished.
She nervously inched inside, watching the servants arrange the rows of chairs and polish the huge black vases that lined the aisle, waiting to be filled with flowers.
A statuesque woman stood in the centre of it all, waving her hands like a conductor. ‘No, not there!’ she directed. ‘Move it over five centimetres; five centimetres precisely.’ She pointed to one of the vases. ‘No, not like that. Oh, here, let me do it.’ The terrified servant scurried out of her way.
She must be the wedding planner, thought Olivia. But she’s dressed like she’s going to a funeral. Olivia studied the vampire’s tailored black suit. A very expensive funeral!