Guardian of the Dead Read Online Free PDF Page B

skirted the sunken orchestra pit and joined them, making abortive attempts to smooth down my hair.
    Iris beamed at me. ‘Okay, guys, this is Ellie Spencer, from Mansfield, like Kevin! She’s our fight choreographer!’ She clapped. Everyone joined in.
    â€˜Hi,’ I said, through my teeth, hoping it looked like a smile. There were cute boys, but none of them looked enthused by my introduction as a mere high-school kid. Probably not even my nice boots would have helped.
    â€˜It’s good to see everyone here on time!’ Iris said encouragingly.
    â€˜Sarah’s not,’ Carrie pointed out.
    â€˜Sarah left,’ Iris told her, but before the groan from the other cast members could swell into real protest, she held out her hands. ‘It’s okay! We have a new Titania lined up already. Reka Gordon.’
    â€˜Why did Sarah quit?’ one of the boys asked, looking disgruntled. I’d noticed him right away – he wasn’t really tall enough for me, but I liked his brown curls and wide mouth.
    Iris paused, a look of momentary confusion flickering over her face. ‘You’d have to ask her yourself,’ she said, then rallied. ‘But I’m sure it was a good reason.’
    â€˜What’s this Reka done?’ he persisted.
    Iris blinked again. ‘Oh, lots of things,’ she said. ‘She’s just moved here, I think, so nothing recent . . . she has done Dream before, though, so that’s a real bonus. Just one thing, though, before she joins us! She’s allergic to the smell of cooked food. So we can’t bring anything that smells to rehearsal.’ She picked up her notebook and smiled hopefully at the group.
    Kevin raised his hand. ‘She’s allergic to the smell of cooked food?’
    Iris nodded.
    â€˜That’s – uh . . . I’ve never heard of that.’
    â€˜Like, is she allergic to peanuts?’ Carrie asked, pretty nose wrinkling. ‘Because that’s airborne allergies. My cousin can’t be around satay.’
    â€˜Cooked food,’ Iris said swiftly. ‘All cooked food. Okay?’ Her voice was composed, but I could see her hands tensing and relaxing in her lap. ‘She’s joining us a little later. Let’s get warmed up.’
    I squished myself into one of the seats in the row nearest the stage and watched as she marshalled everyone into a circle like a hyper-efficient sheepdog and took the cast through a series of increasingly bizarre physical, vocal, and mental warm-ups. I couldn’t really see the point of making people howl, or asking them to visualise themselves dropping into a pool of black ink, or having them all clap in unison, but they did look more focused and intent when they were finished, so what did I know? And brown-curls boy looked even more interesting with his face screwed up in concentration.
    â€˜Okay, Ellie! How do you want to start?’
    Panic swamped me. I’d been so intent on complaining about Kevin making me do this that I hadn’t come up with any practicalities. ‘How about if I see the scenes like you’ve got them, and then come up with some ideas?’
    Iris nodded as if that made perfect sense. ‘Okay! Act three, scene two. From Helena’s entrance.’
    Carrie and Carla eagerly disappeared into the wings, and two boys whose names I had already forgotten began mock-punching each other, while another two sat at the back of the stage. Everyone else trooped into the auditorium, setting up camp in the front rows. Iris sat down beside me, so I took out a notebook and tried to look serious.
    Carrie ran from the wings, pursued by one of the boys protesting his enchanted love for her. I’d studied A Midsummer Night’s Dream in Year Eleven, but it was hard to follow Shakespeare’s lines at speed. I thought that they were probably pretty good, though. Carrie’s Helena was maybe a little too stagy, but Carla’s Hermia was