Dan and the Caverns of Bone by Thomas Taylor Page B

like an incoming missile.
    Then she’s gone, vanishing into the urban shadow of a Paris side street.
    I wish I had my purple specs right now.
    â€˜All in all, a very satisfying outcome, Master Dyer,’ says Si then. ‘You not only rescued Jojo but you even managed to deal with your class bully in a most intelligent way.’
    â€˜Eh?’
    â€˜Oh, yes. When one cannot defeat one’s enemy by force, one acts to make him so irrelevant that he does not need defeating at all. You are learning, Daniel. You know, for a while I honestly thought you were going to try to
fight
him. With your fists!’
    â€˜Yeah,’ I say, staring at my shoes. ‘Yeah, it’s just as well I didn’t try that, isn’t it?’
    And I stroll back to join the rest of my class. Frenchy is standing there, his mouth opening andclosing like a goldfish who doesn’t get that the fly’s on the other side of the glass.
    â€˜How…?’ he splutters. ‘How did you…?’
    â€˜
Réussi à apprendre la langue française en quelques jours?
’ I suggest, finishing his question for him. He nods in a twitchy, slightly mad way. Yes, it seems he really would like to know how I managed to learn French so fast. I look back at him. Then I give him my biggest, most Gallic shrug.
    I think that says it all, don’t you?
    And by the time we’re allowed back on the bus, Frenchy even manages to smile in my direction. I must remember to give him his grammar book back tomorrow.
    As we take our seats once again in the flea-bitten bus – ready to be whisked back to the delights of the Hotel Cafards – Baz makes one last attempt to get at Brian. But it’s hopeless – he’s drowned out by the sea of kids. They deposit their new hero in the middle of the back seat, and cluster round. The girl called Tanya snuggles beside him, tearing pages out of a guide book of Paris and handing them round. Everyone wants to know how to make the plane that defeated Death, it seems. Brian’s going to have a late night tonight. And somehow Ijust know Baz’ll be making planes too, before the end of it.
    And me? Well, I settle back into the leatherette and school bus fluff all on my own, and recede into the coat. Well, not
all
on my own, obviously. Simon is at my side, with a snaggletooth grin of spectral pride I’m glad only I can see.
    But there are no prizes for guessing who I’m thinking about.
    This is my last night in Paris. Tomorrow I have to say goodbye to Lucifane.

19

Last Mango in Paris

    I hardly sleep that night. And not just because of the sound of music and partying that comes from one of the rooms below as our class celebrates their last night away and Brian’s awesomeness. It’s a party they somehow forgot to invite me to. I sleep a bit though, I must do, because when I open my eyes nextI see that Bri is lying on top of his bed, a huge smile on his face. Like the squirrel who got the acorn.
    I’m pleased for him.
    It’s dark outside, but my watch says it won’t be for long, so I get up and pull on the coat. The corners are still a bit damp from wearing it over wet clothes, but I’m glad of it as I slip out through the window and into the predawn cold of a Paris morning.
    I half expect to see her on the roof next door, but why should I? I must be going soft in the head.
    â€˜Daniel?’
    Simon is suddenly at my side, all ectoplasm and spectral concern.
    â€˜Back to London today, Si. And all that.’
    â€˜Indeed. But Paris isn’t so far. Certainly, it’s closer now than it ever was in my time. Though there’s no place like home, as they say.’
    â€˜Yeah, they do,’ I agree. But I’m thinking of something Luci said the first time I visited the squat, about how she and her friends had turned an empty building into a home – a home for those who don’t fit in anywhere else.
    I jump across and stroll over to