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101 pages

English

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There's a new pupil at St Agnes' school in the historic city of Meresbury. She's a mysterious, otherworldly girl called Emerald Greene. A girl without a past, without a family or friends. When Jess and Richie decide to befriend her, they're in for a few shocks - for Emerald lives in a mansion which doesn't exist, and can see things nobody else can see. Meanwhile, Meresbury becomes home to a series of strange events. What is the secret of the tomb which the eccentric Professor Ulverston has unearthed in an ancient stone circle? Where does the talking cat come from? And why have Mr Courtney and his Special Measures operatives arrived in town? With unearthly apparitions stalking the land, Jess and Richie soon realise that their mysterious classmate might be the only one to know what's happening. But it seems Emerald Greene has her own secrets - and nobody is quite sure whose side she is really on...

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Publié par	Andrews UK
Date de parution	10 juin 2014
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781783337095
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0100€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Title Page
EMERALD GREENE AND THE WITCH STONES
Daniel Blythe

Publisher Information
This edition published in 2014 by
Acorn Books
www.acornbooks.co.uk
Converted and distributed by
Andrews UK Limited
www.andrewsuk.com
Copyright © 2014 Daniel Blythe
The right of by Daniel Blythe to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Dedication
To Elinor Sarah Madeleine and Samuel James William
For past, present and future.

Part One
A Door is Opened
1
New Girl in Town
‘She’s a bit weird,’ said Jessica Mathieson, over the noise of the end-of-school bell.
Richie Fanshawe looked up from his Fortean Times and blinked at Jess over his ham sandwich. ‘Have you spoken to her?’ he asked.
‘Just seen her.’ Jess indicated the upper floor of the school with a toss of her long brown hair. ‘She’s sitting upstairs. I think she starts tomorrow.’
‘Well, weird is relative,’ Richie said. He tapped his magazine. ‘Corn circles in Devon, now they’re weird.’
‘Really?’ Jess frowned, leaning on her locker. ‘I thought corn circles were, like, so last century?’
‘Not in the middle of football pitches.’
‘Oh. Right... Well, do you want to see her or not?’
Richie folded the magazine shut and stretched up to his full height - which was still only level with Jess’s shoulder. They were both in Year Eight, but he was lagging behind her in the growth stakes. ‘Okay, show me, then.’
Pupils were pouring out of all the exits, anxious to get home, so they had to battle against a blue-blazered tide of children to get back upstairs. When they got to Classroom 12, Jess and Richie peered in at the door.
There she was - the Newbie. She was sitting on her own, feet up on the desk, reading a volume of the Encyclopaedia Britannica .
Her shiny, tomato-red hair was tucked behind one ear, and she had a hawkish nose on which rested a pair of blue-tinted glasses. Her pale, high-cheekboned face tapered to a pointed chin. The Newbie’s blazer and skirt looked new, neatly-pressed. And she was thin. Not scrawny, Jess decided, and not waifish - it was a lean, lithe look, one which hinted at hidden strength. She was wearing school uniform, but with striped black-and-white socks - like the Wicked Witch of the West in The Wizard Of Oz , Jess thought. And in contravention of all school rules on jewellery, the girl wore a silver omega-chain around her neck on which a smooth green stone, set into silver, sparkled like a Christmas light.
‘Let’s go in,’ said Jess.
Richie grabbed her arm, held her back. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Richard Fanshawe, are you a man or a mouse?’ Jess opened the door to the musty room, strode up to the Newbie and offered her hand. ‘Hi. I’m Jess.’
The girl smiled, looked up as she closed the book. Her green eyes gleamed behind the blue lenses, burning with intelligence. For a second, Jess felt her mouth go dry and almost took a step backwards - as if those eyes were scanning her deeply, reading her every thought.
‘Emerald,’ said the girl, shaking Jess’s hand firmly. Her skin felt marble-cold. ‘Emerald Greene. Pleased to meet you.’
She spoke precisely, Jess thought, as if IN CAPITAL LETTERS. This was the kind of thing that usually got you teased.
‘So where have they sent you from, then?’ Jess asked, perching herself on the desk.
‘Nobody sent me,’ said the Newbie - Emerald - in her rounded voice. ‘I came willingly.’
‘Which school were you at before?’ Richie asked.
‘I have never been to school before,’ said Emerald, eyes wide. ‘At least, not what you would call school.’
Jessica was good at telling if people were lying or winding her up. The Newbie, frustratingly, appeared to be doing neither. It was perplexing.
It was a year since St Agnes’ High School, Meresbury, had unofficially gone mixed. The boys’ school two miles down the road, King George VI High, had been burned down one night in an act of sabotage, and its six hundred pupils had been redistributed throughout the county. The girls had quickly assimilated their fifty-three newcomers. Emerald, though, was the first new girl to arrive in their year, and it seemed she would take some getting used to.
‘Where do you live?’ asked Jess.
‘Live?’ The girl frowned for a second. ‘Oh, I see. Yes, I live at Rubicon House.’
‘Where’s that?’ asked Jessica.
‘It is a large house, near Beeches Point. At the edge of the Darkwater.’ She pushed back a stray lock of red hair and smiled placidly up at them, as if to say that this was all the information she was giving for now. ‘Would you excuse me?’ she added, swinging her feet down. ‘I have some more information to catch up on.’ She hefted the encyclopaedia. ‘There is rather a lot of it, and this would appear to be only Volume One.’
‘You’re reading it,’ said Jess, and immediately felt stupid.
Emerald gave them a dazzling smile. ‘Of course! I find this the best way to acquire information.’ She thrust the encyclopaedia into her satchel. ‘Now I know about everything from Aardvarks to Bohemia. Time to get my next volume.’ She gave them a wave, and strode past them out of the classroom.
Jess and Richie remained rooted to the spot for a moment.
‘Okay,’ Richie said, tapping his glasses nervously. ‘That beats corn circles any day.’
Jess grabbed him by the wrist. ‘Come on.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘Following her, of course!’
Richie looked at his watch. ‘My mum thinks I’m at Astronomy Club,’ he said reluctantly. ‘She’s expecting me home for tea at five.’
‘Oh, Richard ! Where’s your sense of adventure? Does James Bond go home for tea?’
‘But won’t your aunt be wondering where you are?’
‘She can wonder. Come on !’
Afternoon shoppers filled the Old Town - elderly couples, students gossiping, children trailing unwillingly to supermarkets with parents. Outside the gate of Meresbury Cathedral, a juggler on a unicycle had drawn a small crowd.
Jess and Richie didn’t have time to stop. Dodging between shop-fronts, they tailed Emerald Greene at a discreet distance, Jess leading the way and Richie hiding behind her. They crossed the Cathedral Close, passing through the jagged shadow of the Cathedral itself. A couple of times, Emerald seemed about to turn around and they ducked back into the shadows.
They followed her across the open garden at the side of the Cathedral, which led to a gap in the old city walls and some stone steps down to the main road. They were just in time to see Emerald disappearing down the steps.
Jess jumped the chain and cut across the lawns, leaving Richie to trail in her wake. They got to the ringroad in time to look down and see Emerald boarding a Number 32 bus, which closed its doors with a swish and started to pull out.
Richie caught her up, panting for breath. ‘We can’t chase a bus,’ he pointed out.
‘Taxi!’ exclaimed Jess with a glint in her eye, looking up and down the streets.
‘What?’
‘Well, it’s what people do in movies. They leap into a taxi and say, “Follow that car!” And the driver says “I’ve been waiting all my life for someone to say that!”’
Richie scanned the busy ringroad. ‘I can’t see any taxis,’ he pointed out. ‘I doubt we could afford one, anyway.’
Jess shrugged, and slumped dejectedly on the bus-shelter seat. ‘I suppose “follow that bus” doesn’t have the same ring to it.’ She sighed, chin in her hand.
‘So this is where we fall down,’ said Richie despondently. ‘James Bond can drive .’
‘Where does the 32 bus go?’ Jess wondered aloud. She jumped up, ran her finger down the list of destinations on the wall. ‘Beeches Point... That’s out near the Darkwater.’ Jessica shivered, and for a minute it was as if the passing cars and buses zooming around the Meresbury ringroad belonged to another world. ‘But that’s where she said she lived... Rubicon House at Beeches Point... ’
‘My mum said you’d get me into trouble,’ Richie muttered.
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Rich. Don’t be a wet blanket.’ Jess’s eyes narrowed in determination. ‘Look, we can catch a number 54 round to the other side... Come on!’
On the escarpment, the land was steep, studded with boulders, ugly and menacing. The dip slope rolled more gently, bracken giving way to a forest of conifers about a hundred metres away. A few farm buildings were scattered across the moors, but otherwise it was an empty landscape, quiet and still in the setting sun.
‘I’m really late for tea, now,’ said Richie awkwardly, scrambling through the bracken behind Jess and trying to polish his glasses on his handkerchief.
At the edge of the pine forest, they ducked for cover. Jess liked the pungent, comforting Christmas-smell of the trees, which made her think of oranges and wrapping paper and melting candles in jars. The sun was low over the glittering Darkwater, shards of orange dancing in the glassy blue-black.
‘There!’ said Richie suddenly, and pointed.
Up ahead, they saw Emerald Greene approach a large, empty clearing. Jess nudged Richie and, heads down, they slipped between the pine-trees, keeping the Newbie in sight. Emerald appeared to be in no hurry, strolling round the clearing with her hand