Spirit Prophecy (The Gateway Trilogy Book 2) (7 page)

“You’re welcome. There will be several more occasions coming up when white dress will be required, so you should get some good use out of it.”

My own white ensemble turned out to be a long-sleeved fitted t-shirt and a pair of bleach-spotted white skinny jeans. They were even strategically shredded and torn a bit, I noted with satisfaction. Karen had obviously chosen them carefully.

“You know, Karen?” I said, revolving once in front of the mirror to admire the outfit from all angles. “I might actually consider wearing this in public.”

Karen smiled. “Hallelujah. You can change out of them for now, if you want, but just make sure you’re both dressed and in the entrance hall by

8:30. I’ve got some more business with the Council to deal with,” she said with a poisonous look at our door, “but I’ll be back before dinner. And speaking of the Council,” she added, perching on the arm of a chair and looking quite serious now, “there’s something I need to discuss with the two of you. Hannah, it’s about you, really.”

“Me?” Hannah asked, looking up with her hands still holding her skirt, which made her look like a small child who had gotten in trouble for splashing in puddles.

“Yes. It’s about what happened on the night that Jess and I came to get you from New Beginnings, and what you did to escape from the nurses.”

“What about it?” Hannah asked.

“What you did was unusual, Hannah; really, really unusual, and maybe even unheard of. I can’t even explain it, to be honest, and I’ve been trying to figure it out ever since it happened. That’s why I asked you so many questions about it before we came here.”

Hannah continued to stare at her, motionless, her hands still clutching handfuls of skirt.

“Our connection to spirits exists so that they can find us, not the other way around. I’ve never known any Durupinen to summon spirits to them, let alone so many at once.”

I thought back to that moment, crouched in Hannah’s closet, watching in frozen terror as she called the spirits to her, leeching them from the surroundings and wielding them like weapons to force our escape.

“I think it’s best,” Karen continued, “if we don’t tell anyone here about it until I can find out more. As we’ve all learned the hard way, there are many Durupinen here who resent our family, and we don’t need another reason to draw unwanted attention.”

“But shouldn’t we tell someone?” Hannah asked. “Someone here must know why I can do that, and if it really is that unusual, shouldn’t they know?”

“I think they ought to know eventually, yes,” Karen said. “And I’m not even sure how long we might be able to keep it from them once you start interacting with spirits in front of your teachers. I don’t want you to lie to them, exactly, but I don’t think there’s any reason to clue them in if it doesn’t come up.”

“Is something wrong with me?” Hannah said, almost as a statement instead of a question.

“No. Many people here have unique abilities within the spirit realm. I’d just like to find out what I can about yours before Marion and her entourage have a chance to pounce on it and draw their own conclusions. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” we both said, Hannah a little late.

“Good. Thank you,” Karen said, and her expression cleared. “I’ll be up to get you for dinner.

“Can we eat up here?” Hannah asked.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind avoiding the snake pit for tonight,” I said.

Karen hesitated. “I appreciate that it’s tough, but you girls are going to need to adjust to being here and —”

“Karen, we’re stuck here for the foreseeable future with these people. We’re going to have plenty of time to adjust. Can’t we just … start adjusting tomorrow? I think we’ve had about all the adjustment we can handle for one day,” I said. By “we” I meant Hannah, but I had to admit that hiding out in our room sounded like a pretty nice alternative to further humiliation.

“It won’t stay like this, you know,” Karen said in a gentle voice. “Things will get better.”

“Yeah, maybe, but probably not by dinner time.”

Karen picked up the antique box and tucked it back under her arm. “You’re right. I’ll bring up some sandwiches, okay?” And without waiting for an answer, she slipped out the door and closed it behind her.

I plopped down in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace. I could tell that, if I ever felt at home here, this would quickly become one of my favorite spots. I tried to close my eyes and rediscover the exhaustion that had been ready to overwhelm me that morning, but I couldn’t find it. It had been replaced with a manic kind of energy that was buzzing under my skin. I wanted to run through the halls and rip the stupid old tapes tries off the walls. I wanted to find the girls who had painted the message on my door and scream in their faces. I wanted to kick and claw at the stones of this horror story castle until it was a pile of rubble. I needed to walk and get some fresh air before I gave in to one or all of those urges.

I stood up. “I’m going for a walk.”

Hannah, curled again behind her book, her new skirt fanned out around her like a cloud, didn’t even look up. “I’ll see you later.”

“Right.” I grabbed my sketchpad, shoved it into the depths of my bag with some pencils, and slung it over my shoulder. I flung the door open only to leap back from it as Milo streaked in.

“Knock much?”

He turned to me with a withering look and gestured to himself. “Knock? Really? I sort of lack the necessary tools for that sort of thing —you know, like a corporeal existence.”

“You know what I mean, can’t you at least…wait a minute. How the hell did you get in here?”

Milo raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “Through the door, oh brainy one, you just watched me do it. By the way, what happened to your dismal wardrobe? Did you trip and fall into a tub of bleach or something?”

I chose to ignore this last comment. “No, I mean, how did you get past the wards?”

“The what, now?”

“The wards!” I pointed to the symbol carved into our bedroom door, now partially obscured with dripping red graffiti. “This symbol is sup posed to keep all the ghosts out of our room.”

“Oh. Well, maybe it’s broken,” Milo said with an unconcerned shrug. “Anyway, don’t you want to know what I found out?” I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know much about all this ancient Durupinen voodoo stuff, but I’m pretty sure these things don’t just break.”

Milo snuggled up onto the bed next to Hannah who, rather than shying away from what ought to have been intensely cold and uncomfortable, leaned into him like he was a throw pillow. I shivered involuntarily. “Huh. Well, now that you mention it, that sort of explains a few things.”

“Such as?”

“While I was exploring the place, there were a bunch of rooms I couldn’t get into. It was like the doorways and walls had turned solid, which was really weird for me, seeing as solid isn’t really something I deal with anymore. Then I came back here and tried to get in, to see if you were back yet, and I couldn’t do it. Maybe I can only enter when you’re in the room?”

“I don’t know,” I said, tracing a finger around the grooved shape of the ward. “I don’t think it’s supposed to work like that.”

“I want him to be here. Maybe the ghost can get in if you invite him. You know, like vampires,” Hannah said.

“Vampires? Okay seriously, can we just stick to ghosts? I think that’s about as much paranormal interference as my life can handle right now,” I said, hands raised in front of me.

“I was just kidding,” Hannah giggled.

“Hello? Doesn’t anyone want to know what I found out?” Milo said with a pout.

“Okay, okay. What did you find out?’ Hannah asked.

“I know who left the love note on your door,” he sang in triumph.

I dropped my bag, bounded across the room, and clambered onto the bed. “Really? Who?”

“There are at least three of them. One of them is named Peyton; she lives across the hall, three doors down from here.”

“Yeah, I had the displeasure of meeting her already,” I said.

“Her roommate is involved too, Olivia. They were talking with a third girl, but I didn’t catch her name. I heard them plotting in the alcove by the staircase about how they were going to get rid of the paint without anyone finding it.”

“You didn’t let them see you, did you?” Hannah asked.

“No,” Milo said with a sigh. “I took Jess’ advice for once and didn’t materialize. It would have been much more fun to tell them off, but I think it’s better that they don’t know I was there. I tried to follow them back into their room, but I couldn’t get in, probably because of those ward thingies. That’s where the evidence is, though.”

Hannah bit her lip. “Who should we tell? Celeste? Karen?”

“Nobody,” I said firmly, getting back up and retrieving my bag.

Milo’s mouth dropped open. “You aren’t going to bust them?”

“No.”

“But how else are we going to get those bitches kicked out?” Milo asked.

“I don’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing that they got to us,” I said. “Besides, even if we did tell someone, do you really think the Council is going to do anything about it? Peyton’s mother pretty much runs that show, from what I can tell.”

“You’re probably right,” Hannah said.

“Can I at least go wreak some havoc?” Milo pleaded, hands clasped in supplication. “You know, go all poltergeist on their asses? Pretty please?”

The corner of my mouth twitched in spite of how hard I was trying to stop it. “We’ll see. For now I think we’ve got all the trouble we can handle, don’t you? I’m going outside to sketch. Can you bring my clan stuff down to the entrance hall? I’ll meet you there.”

I spent the intervening hours lost in the pages of my sketchbook out on the grounds. If Fairhaven Hall’s castle was something out of a gothic horror story, then the grounds were something out of a fairytale. The gardens were full of forgotten corners and statues worn to vague suggestions of their former detail, and stone walls so old it seemed the ivy and brambles tangled across them were trying to keep them from falling apart. Every so often, I would glimpse a figure here or there that faded away before I could study it. Once I heard a snatch of singing in a woman’s soft Irish brogue. It sounded like a lullaby, and made me at once sad and comforted. I sketched until my fears and anger dulled to the same vague, featureless masses as the statues standing watch over the flowerbeds. As it always did, drawing calmed me down, gave me a sense of control and allowed me to think more clearly.

We were here. We were here and we were going to stick it out, but not because we didn’t have a choice; it was simply that our choice had already been made. We would have to deal with a lot of unpleasantness and uncertainty as we found our footing. But not finding our footing wasn’t an option. Both Hannah and I had dealt with a lot of shit in our lives, and quite frankly, I couldn’t really think of anything they could dish out here that could top what we’d already had to face in the past. It was a weirdly comforting thought, and I lit it like a talisman in my chest. We would do our best to learn what we could here, and then our lives would, once and for all, be our own.

As I trudged back up to the castle, I felt renewed from my artistic release and my mental regrouping. I tried to hold on to that feeling as I entered the crowded entrance hall at 8:25 to prepare for the welcoming ceremony. I pointedly ignored the way the crowd parted for me like I was carrying a particularly contagious form of leprosy and found Hannah and Karen by the fireplace.

“I was starting to wonder if I’d have to come looking for you,” Karen said, draping my sash over my shoulder.

“Just needed some air,” I said as she handed me a safety pin. I secured the sash in place and pulled the triskele necklace over my head. “Have I missed anything interesting yet?”

“No, we’re just about to line up in formation,” Karen said. She smoothed out my sash, now secured to my shoulder, and looked with satisfaction between Hannah and me. “Perfect. Now when the music starts, I’ll show you where to line up. Just follow the progression outside. You’ll be on the western side of the courtyard.”

“Aren’t you coming with us?’ Hannah asked in a slightly panicked voice.

“I’ll be out there, but I have to take my place among the other adults. When the moment comes, I’ll come to light your candle and stand with you.” At this she handed us each a tall, white taper in a tarnished brass candlestick.

A sharp echoing gong resounded around the hall, and, like a flock of doves taking flight, the Apprentices fluttered around, arranging themselves into two long columns. Peyton, I noticed at once, was at the very front of the queue, bearing her own candle and an expression so smug that I could cheerfully have slapped it off her face. Maybe I should let Milo loose on her, I thought. I glanced around for him, but he was nowhere in sight. In fact, for the first time since I’d arrived here, I didn’t see a single spirit anywhere.

“Where’s Milo?”

“Upstairs. He’s not allowed at the ceremony, none of the spirits are,” Hannah said.

“Why not?”

Hannah just shrugged.

Karen guided us quickly into position about a third of the way from the front, where we hurried to imitate the other girls around us; chins up, shoulders back, and candles raised in both hands before us. As nervous as I was, I still managed to register the fact that I felt like a complete tool, and barely managed to cover a nervous laugh with a snorting sort of cough. Hannah looked whiter than I’d ever seen her.