Spirit Prophecy (The Gateway Trilogy Book 2) (30 page)

The only thing that could have lightened our congested, hacking wretchedness was the wary look on many of the faces around the dining hall. Hannah took a break from blowing her nose long enough to give Peyton’s table a casual wave, which caused many of the occupants to become intensely interested in their cornflakes.

Savannah, Brenna, and Mackie listened to our story with mouths hanging open, although Mackie’s initial response was horror and guilt that this had all unfolded on her watch as head girl, and it took us nearly ten minutes to convince her that there was nothing she could have done to prevent it.

“I can’t believe they left you there with the Elemental,” she said, shaking her head. It was rare for something in the Durupinen world to elicit much from her other than a nod or a knowing smile. “No one’s done that in about a hundred years, at least. I didn’t even think it was real. I thought it was one of those stories you make up, to frighten people into behaving themselves, like the boogeyman.”

“Well, we can definitely confirm that it is not only real, but every bit as scary as the stories claim,” I said. “If I were in charge around here, my first act would be to figure out a way to get rid of that thing.”

“You going to report them?” Savvy asked.

“What would be the point?” I said. “They kept those freak doll masks on the whole time, so even though we know at least a few of them that were involved, we can’t really prove it. It would be their word against ours. And besides, who on that Council is going to punish them?”

“Well, Celeste would try, but she’d get overruled,” Brenna said.

“Yeah, by Marion and her crew, and you know she was probably the one that put them up to it in the first place,” Mackie added.

“Well that’s complete crap,” Savvy said, slamming her hand down on the table and knocking over the maple syrup. “I’ve gotten punished twice already just for breaking curfew. Meanwhile those toxic little mannequins kidnap you and unleash some demon creature from hell on you, and they don’t even get a slap on the wrist?”

“Tradition is the best defense for anything that happens here. They’re just going to insist that they were following the old customs, and no one will even bat an eyelash,” I said.

“With the bizarre shit classified as tradition around here, it’s no wonder that people have been hunting down and persecuting you lot over the years,” Savvy said. She was applying shocking pink lipstick and using the back of her spoon as a mirror.

We all looked at her in mutual surprise.

“Does this mean you’ve actually started staying awake in History and Lore?” Mackie asked.

“Not if I can help it,” Savvy said. “But I have accidentally learned a few things, despite my best efforts. Alright girls, what’s the verdict, does this color work for me?” She pouted her full lips seductively.

We all shook our heads.

“Bollocks,” she grumbled, and swiped the lipstick away with the back of her hand. “Guess I’ll return it to Phoebe’s purse, then.”

True to our word, we hadn’t mentioned Carrick’s role in our rescue, but instead made it sound as though Finn found his own way there on Róisín’s information.

“I’m surprised Róisín did that,” Brenna said. “She’s always been really close friends with Peyton, but much more of a follower. I wouldn’t think she’d have the guts to defect like that, especially if she might have gotten them all in trouble.”

“I’m not surprised,” Mackie said. “I liked her a lot until a couple of years ago, when she started following Peyton around like a puppy dog. She was obviously the only one with any sense in that whole group. You’re lucky Finn agreed to come. He could have been in a lot of trouble if he was caught out unchaperoned with Apprentices. He’s certainly committed to his job, and he hasn’t even officially been Initiated yet.”

“Yeah, we were lucky alright” I said. I got a pit in my stomach every time I thought about Finn and the Initiation. Everything about it felt wrong, but there was no way out of it. It was a helpless feeling, like being sentenced for a crime you never even realized you’d committed.

“I know you don’t like him much, but at least you know he can do his job,” Savvy said, shaking my shoulder bracingly. “Poor old Bertie looks like one stiff breeze would knock him over. He actually screamed out loud when we got that first spirit to approach our communication circle last week. What a tosser. Looks like Phoebe and I will be doing our own protecting for a while.”

“Yeah, well at least he tries. Isaac is so busy trying to look tough and imposing that he forgets what he’s supposed to be doing half the time,” Brenna said. “All brawn and no brains.”

“Well, let’s keep the hope alive, shall we, girls? We’ve all got a lot of learning left to do. We’re not much better at our own jobs, yet,” Mackie said, looking every bit the head girl. Brenna stuck her tongue out at her sister.

“The exception to that being Hannah, of course,” I said, ruffling her hair. “She’s got the ghosts queuing at the snap of her fingers.” Hannah blushed and grinned shiftily. “I never thought I’d say it, but it has its uses.”

“No kidding. I would have paid good money to see the looks on those girls’ faces when you Called all those ghosts,” Mackie said. “I’ll bet it was absolutely priceless.”

“Yeah, it was pretty great,” Hannah said. “I just hope the mystique lasts long enough for them to get in the habit of leaving us alone.”

The bells chimed loudly, and Peyton and her friends left so quickly that the sound might have been signaling a fire rather than the end of the breakfast hour. So far, Hannah was getting her wish.

§

After a miserable two hours of Ancient Celtic Languages, during which I fought in vain to stay awake and butchered my pronunciation even worse than usual, I decided a nap was the best use of my time. I crossed the courtyards, where Finn and the other Novitiates were doing some sort of martial arts combat drills. They were set up in pairs, throwing punches and kicks at each other while attempting to block the blows from their opponents. I saw just enough to tell that most of them were very good, with the glaring exception of poor Bertie, and also that the Caomhnóir took their physical training very seriously. I guess that should have made me feel safe or something, but it didn’t. Instead, I was left contemplating what possible situations I would be involved in that would require my own personal ninja.

Deep in troubled thought about this, I nearly ran headlong into Róisín Lightfoot in the entry hall.

She stared at me, wide-eyed for a moment, then stepped around me without a word and kept walking.

“Róisín, wait!” I said, turning to follow her.

She pretended not to hear me, and lengthened her stride.

Róisín, stop! I want to talk to you!” I called after her.

She stopped and spun around so suddenly that I almost walked into her again.

“What?” she hissed, glancing nervously around us. There was no one in sight.

“I just wanted to thank you,” I said.

“For what?” she said, crossing her arms. “What do you mean, for what?” I said. “Finn told us you went to find him last night.”

“So what?” Róisín said tartly. “You obviously didn’t need the help, from what I hear, so forget about it.”

“You couldn’t have known that.”

“I told you to forget it. It was nothing.”

She turned to leave again, but I caught her arm. She shook it angrily out of my grip.

“It wasn’t nothing!” I said.

“Yes, it was,” Róisín hissed, and there was an edge of panic in her voice now. “And if you ever tell anyone about it, I will deny it.”

That pulled me up short. “Why?”

“Because I’m not getting dragged down in this!” she whispered. “I know how things are around here, and I am not winding up on the wrong side. My mother is on the Council, my friends are all…I’m just not going to do it. And I’m sorry, okay? But please, just forget about it.”

“Fine,” I said. “I won’t say anything. But we know what you did, and we’re grateful. I just thought you should know.”

A softened expression flitted across Róisín’s face for just long enough to give her away. Then her eyes hardened again and she gave a derisive laugh. “Whatever. I wouldn’t want you thinking it was out of concern for you, okay? I was just trying to save our own skins. They may not want you here, but I don’t think the Council would have been very happy if you and your sister died.”

And with that she walked away, her long, dark hair swinging behind her like a closing door. But I wasn’t fooled. There was some shred of comfort in knowing that, even in the inner circle of resistance, there were those that, if they had the courage to make up their own minds, might have accepted us. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

I trudged back to my room and flopped onto my bed, sure I’d be asleep in seconds. Instead I lay there, wide awake, my body exhausted but my brain buzzing with a hundred different things. After thirty minutes I gave up any hope of sleep and decided to spend the time on something else that seemed impossible: tracking down Pierce.

With no new clues about where he might be or why he’d vanished, I decided to focus my energies on locating the last person that I knew had definitely seen him. I opened my browser and googled Neil Caddigan.

I began to click and sift through the results. There was an astrophysicist by the same name, but he had been dead for ten years. There was also a thirty-something aspiring actor named Neil Caddigan with a toothy headshot and a résumé consisting mostly of community theatre and one underarm deodorant commercial. Finally, I spotted a link that looked promising and clicked on it.

It was an article debating whether historical buildings should be opened to the increasing requests for paranormal investigations. The author had interviewed a number of sources on both sides of the argument. I scanned for Neil’s name and read the section.

“Few have been as vocal in the quest for this open door policy as Dr. Neil Caddigan, a noted scholar in the field of theology and a self-styled “para-historian.” “What you must understand,” Caddigan insists, “is that this trend is only growing. We are missing a crucial opportunity to learn more about the history of our country’s most iconic places and events. There is only so much that artifacts and scraps of documentation can tell us; we must push the boundaries of science and technology, as well as the limits of our own beliefs, if we are to learn more. Imagine the wealth of primary source information we might have access to if these spirits can be reached! There have been many significant technological advances that could, if embraced, lead to some startling new discoveries.”

I read the entire article carefully, but though Neil was quoted twice more, there were no details that shed any light on where I might find him. I went back to the search page and tried typing “Caddigan theology.”

Bingo.

The very first link was to a course catalogue for a college in London where students could take three different theology classes with a Dr. N. Caddigan. A thorough search of the college’s website gave me Neil’s faculty email address. It was a long shot, given that it was now summer, but I sent a message to him anyway. It took a surprisingly long time to write, considering that it really wasn’t very long. I was careful to leave out all mention of my own whereabouts and kept the tone very light and friendly. I tried not to sound too anxious about Pierce, just in case I really was overreacting, and invented an excuse for needing to get in touch with Pierce as a pretext for tracking him down. I also requested any contact information Neil might have for any of the other team members, so that I could follow up with them if Neil turned out to be a dead end.

Next I shot off a quick email to Tia, to keep her in the loop. I would have loved to vent to her about the events of the previous night, but that was definitely too much classified information. Instead, I picked up the phone and called Karen, not because the idea appealed to me, but because I thought she ought to hear about the Elemental from me, rather than from someone else.

Predictably, she launched into mama bear mode.

“Those little shits!” she spat, after I’d given her all the gory details. “There’s not a chance they came up with that plan on their own, no matter how vindictive they are.”

“That’s what we figured, too. Mackie said they wouldn’t have been able to find that summoning without an adult’s help.”

“Yeah, and I know exactly which adult,” Karen said. “That’s it. Screw this case, I’m coming back there.”

“No,” I sighed. “Don’t bother. It’s over, and they’re not likely to try anything like that again, not now that they’re all scared to death of Hannah.”

“Are you sure? I can hand this work off to another partner. There should be an adult there who’s on your side.” Karen suddenly sounded congested. “Damn it, I never should have left in the first place.”

“Karen, stop. This isn’t your fault.” I only barely stopped myself from adding, “It’s mom’s.” Instead I said, “If we need help, we can go to Celeste. She’s been great. Siobhán seems alright, too. And if push came to shove, Fiona would probably help us. We’ll be fine, it’s only a couple of weeks.”

“Well, okay, but only if you’re sure.”

“We’re sure,” I repeated. “I promise. Look, I’ve got to go. I’m going to be late for Meditation and Bonding.” This wasn’t strictly true; I had plenty of time, but listening to Karen fuss over us was making me feel worse, not better.