Spirit Prophecy (The Gateway Trilogy Book 2) (14 page)

By the time we arrived back in our room that night after dinner, I was exhausted. Hannah dragged her bag over to one of the armchairs by the fireplace, pulled out our Ceremonial Basics textbook, and started reading the chapters Siobhán had assigned us for homework. The thought of trying to absorb anything else about the Durupinen culture made my head throb, but I was still too wired to go to sleep. I decided what I needed was a friendly face and a nice dose of normalcy; I needed Tia. So I took my laptop out of its case and began unraveling the various cords. As I worked, Milo drifted in.

“What up, biatches?” he trilled. “How was the first day of classes? Do tell all!”

Hannah smiled, closed her book, and launched into a full description of the day’s events. Hearing her talk to Milo was very strange; she never spoke that much to anyone living. I felt a petulant little stab of jealousy that took me by surprise. I tried to ignore it as I struggled to connect to the outside world.

“Do you two mind if I Skype with Tia? If she doesn’t hear from me by tonight she’ll probably have a panic attack.”

“Be our guest,” Milo said, not even looking away from Hannah.

“Thanks,” I said, and signed into my Skype account. It seemed to take forever to connect to Tia, so while I waited, I tried to decide what exactly I was going to tell her. I couldn’t just unload all my woes on her in miserable detail, as I would have liked, and I resented that.

My instructions from Karen and the rest of the Durupinen had been very clear; I had to stick to the official cover story for my time here: I had been accepted into a prestigious study abroad program in England at Fairhaven University. When I finished my Apprentice training, I would be provided with a transcript, all the credits of which would be fully transferable back to St. Matt’s the following fall, so that I could still graduate on time. Tia was a little bit of a special case, since she knew all about the ghost stuff, and so, although I couldn’t tell her any of the specifics, she knew that part of my “educational experience” would be to get the spirit activity under control. Even this tiny concession came at the expense of a lot of begging and pleading on my part; I had to convince Karen, and then Karen had to convince Finvarra and the Council, that Tia was simply too smart to accept the bullshit scenario that I had suddenly decided to study abroad on a whim, and that, if I didn’t give her some idea of what was happening, she would look into it herself. And, as Tia was exceptionally good at getting the answers she wanted, it was better to put her off the attack. This way, I could at least control what she knew, and the Council could avoid having to do the kind of damage control that had left poor Pierce with a huge box full of blank tapes and empty memory cards. In the end, they agreed. And Tia, as I had promised she would, accepted that I couldn’t tell her everything, and settled for the knowledge that I was getting help.

“Hello? Jess? Is that you?” Tia’s voice, stilted and tinny, rang from my speakers. I could barely make out the shape of her head in the stilted, pixelated image.

“Yeah, Tia, it’s me. Hang on, I can’t see you. Come on, come ON,” I grumbled, fiddling with the power cord, the screen angle, and the resolution setting in turn before resorting to whacking the computer with my fist out of sheer technological incompetence. Oddly enough, this last method worked suspiciously well, and Tia’s heart-shaped face framed with sleek curtains of glossy black hair resolved itself from the pixels and broke into a smile.

“Jess!”

Just the sight of her had me swallowing back a threatening onslaught of tears. “Hey, Ti! How are you?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t worry about me, for goodness sake!” she said with a wave of her hand. “How are you?”

“I’m okay,” I said, hardly daring to hint at my misery in case I dissolved into a useless puddle.

“Well, you obviously got there okay. What’s it like? Oh, sorry. Can I ask that? I probably shouldn’t have asked that.”

I laughed. “That’s okay. It’s beautiful here, you would love it. It’s like going to school in a Jane Austen novel, without the dress code. See?” And I picked the laptop right up off of the desk and panned the room with it so that she could see my digs.

“Oh, wow!” Tia sighed. “Is that a fireplace in your room?”

“Yup! Kind of drafty, but it beats the hell out of our old room in Donnelly, I can tell you that.”

“No kidding! What about your classes? I probably shouldn’t ask you about that either.”

“I think the classes will be challenging, but in a good way.”

“And I suppose you can’t tell me what any of those subjects are, huh?”

“Well … I’m taking a study in old Celtic languages. And a private tutorial in art and art history,” I said.

“Yeah, and I’m sure those are the most interesting and unusual things you’re learning,” Tia said with a laugh.

“Oh, yeah, everything else is really boring and predictable.”

“Alright, I’ll be good. Enough about all the stuff you can’t tell me.

How’s Hannah?”

I glanced over my shoulder. Hannah was deep in conversation with Milo. “She’s…adjusting.”

Tia smiled a little too knowingly. “It’ll get better. For both of you. It may just take some time.”

“Normally I’d say you’re right as usual, but this time, I really don’t think so,” I said. My vision began to cloud as the tears started to win their fight for domination.

“Oh, I knew it, I knew you were upset! Your voice sounded all quivery. I wish I could help,” Tia said, picking at her fingers fretfully. “Can’t you tell me about any of it?”

“No, not really. It’s just that…well, we don’t feel very welcome here. And I never thought I’d say this ever in my life, because I never really stayed anywhere long enough to think of it as home, but I think I’m homesick.” I brushed the tears away with the back of my hand and took a deep breath. “I miss St. Matt’s, and you, and Sam, and… ”

“And Gabby?” Tia suggested.

I burst out laughing. “Especially Gabby.”

Tia bent over to pick up her mug of tea and I focused on her surroundings for the first time. I’d recognize that institutional cinder block wall anywhere. “Wait, are you at St. Matt’s right now?” Tia nodded, her mouth full of tea. She swallowed and said, “Yeah. I’m in MacCleary Hall.”

“What are you doing back there in the middle of the summer?”

“Didn’t you read the email I sent you? Never mind, stupid question, you never check your email. I’m here for summer sessions!” she said. Her face lit up with the kind of glee only rigorous academia could ignite in her. “They were offering some science intensives for the pre-med track, so I signed up!”

“You signed up to do extra bio labs in the middle of your summer vacation,” I said. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of the absurd, yet obvious.

“Of course! It seemed like a great opportunity to get ahead with my requirements, especially if I’m going to pick up that economics minor I was thinking about.”

“Tia, don’t you want a break? You know, to relax a little bit before the fall semester?”

Tia’s forehead wrinkled as she considered this apparently foreign concept. “Oh. Well, there’s a week off between the end of this session and the start of regular classes in the fall. So that will be a break.”

“Right. Because one week off is enough of a break for anyone.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Nope. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Yes, you are. Well, you might be interested to know that the classes aren’t the only reason I decided to stay,” Tia said, dropping her eyes to her mug and grinning shiftily.

I perked up. “Okay, I’ll bite. What other reason could you possibly need to do more school work? You know, other than the fact that you’re an academic masochist?”

I watched as a pink flush crept up her neck and stained her cheeks. “Sam. He’s here, too, for orientation leader and RA trainings.”

I tutted, shaking my head. “Tia Vezga, you sly, sly dog —using school work as an excuse to get some nookie.” Tia’s head shot up and her mouth dropped open in horror. “I am not getting — “

“I know, I know,” I laughed. “Here in jolly old England we call that a joke. So, you and Sam Lang, huh? And how are things going?”

“Really, really well,” Tia said, pinker with every syllable. “He’s taking me to Bellini’s for dinner tonight, actually. He’ll be here soon.”

“That’s great!” I’d suggested that restaurant to him ages ago, knowing that Tia had always wanted to eat there. There was hope for that boy after all. “And what are we wearing? Come on, give us a little spin.”

Tia rolled her eyes, but stood up, backed away from the camera, and executed a slow twirl. She was wearing a very simple blue sweater with a straight black pencil skirt.

“Are you sure that’s decent? I can see your ankles.”

“Oh, shut up,” she said, and sat back down.

“Just kidding, just kidding. You look adorable,” I said, which was true, even if her outfit was better suited to a job interview than a romantic candlelit dinner for two.

“I just hope everything works out. I mean, I know I said I wasn’t at St. Matt’s to date, but that doesn’t mean I can’t find some time to have a social life, right?”

“Yes! You aren’t going to get any argument from me, Tia. I think you need to find a healthy balance of work and play.” I infused the last word with just enough innuendo to make her blush again. If we’d been in the same room, she definitely would have thrown something at me.

“He’s got a lot going on, and he knows how important my classes are to me. That’s why I feel like this can work,” she went on, unable to vent her annoyance at me.

“He’s no slacker himself,” I pointed out. “What does he have, a 3.7?”

“3.8,” Tia said, a faint note of pride in her voice, as though she had somehow been partially responsible for Sam’s enviable GPA.

“Exactly. Plus he’s got a million other things to keep him from distracting you too much. He’s got all of his RA stuff going on, not to mention the fact that Pierce will probably work him to death, and —”

“Not this semester,” Tia said.

“What do you mean, not this semester?”

“I mean Sam isn’t working for Pierce this semester, not while he’s on sabbatical.”

“Not while who’s on sabbatical?”

Tia looked at me like I was crazy. “Pierce. He’s on sabbatical this semester. Didn’t he tell you that when you went to see him? I just assumed he must have.”

It was like she’d suddenly started speaking conversational ancient Greek. “What are you talking about?”

She frowned at me like I was the one no longer making sense. “What are
you
talking about?”

“I’m talking about how there is no way Pierce is on sabbatical this semester,” I said. “When I went to say goodbye to him, we talked all about his new class he was supposed to be teaching. He was really excited about it; he showed me his syllabus and everything.” A strange panicked flutter was starting in my stomach.

“Maybe the class is starting in the spring?”

“No, it was definitely a fall class. He was talking about a curriculum tie-in with Halloween.”

“Oh,” Tia said, frowning. “Hmm. Maybe something came up? Like a ghost hunting opportunity or something?”

“Yeah, I guess …” I began, but the fluttering grew stronger, and I couldn’t convince myself even to finish the sentence. “No, I really don’t think so, Tia. Sabbaticals take a long time to plan. I can’t believe Pierce would take one just when St. Matt’s is offering him more classes. He’s always complaining how they don’t take him seriously. Why would he take off right when was about to get some validation?”

“I guess that is pretty weird,” Tia said, tapping her thumbs thoughtfully against the rim of her mug.

“Did Sam talk to Pierce in person?”

“No. He was really confused about it, actually; he was just telling me about it a few days ago. He said that he went up to Pierce’s office to talk about a work schedule, and there was a sign on the door saying that Professor Pierce would be unavailable for the fall semester, and to direct all inquiries to Professor Borkowicz. He’s the head of Pierce’s department. Sam went to see Borkowicz, and he told Sam that Pierce was on sabbatical.”

“Did he give Sam any details? Did he tell him where Pierce went or what he was working on?”

“No, nothing like that at all. He just apologized for the scheduling confusion and asked Sam if he’d like to be reassigned until Pierce got back. Then he shunted Sam over to one of the psychology professors. Sam was kind of upset about it; he really liked working for Pierce. He said it was much more interesting than any other lab work he’d ever done.” Tia scrutinized me like I was a particularly tricky homework question. “What’s going on, Jess? Do you think something’s wrong?”

“Not…wrong exactly,” I said, although I wasn’t sure that was strictly true. “Just…off. I can’t understand why Pierce would suddenly take off like that. He must have had some kind of emergency or… ”

My mind began to spin with half-formed fears. Did Pierce know too much? Had he revealed information to the wrong person, said the wrong thing? Would he actually be stupid enough to try to find out more about where I was or what I was doing, even after all of my warnings about secrecy? Part of me said no, but then again, nothing had ever sparked as fanatical a gleam in his eye as that mystical half-shrouded word: Durupinen. I made up my mind at once.