Shadow Grail #2: Conspiracies (25 page)

Even though Ms. Groves was … scary.

Ms. Groves looked at her with an expression that made Spirit think she was about to get reamed out. “And why would you want to know something like that?”

“Because I don’t want to be known as First Casualty,” Spirit replied.

Ms. Groves had smiled. Actually smiled. It was, as expected, a scary smile.

“Very good, Miss White,” the teacher replied, and rubbed her hands a little. “It pleases me to see you applying yourself at last. When you next get on your computer, you will find you have been given access to a number of new files. Study them. There will be a test in the morning.”

Spirit thanked her, but sighed inwardly.
Of course. There’s always a test in the morning.

FIFTEEN

The Oakhurst Alumns had descended in force now, and were doing their level best to make things look scarier and at the same time more secure. They were sending one big message, that was for sure. “It’s all right that people have died, we’re here to protect you now, so you can go back to your dances and your classes.”

Except, of course, that half the classes had been canceled in favor of things that were all defense oriented … so the message for Spirit was decidedly mixed. Maybe the others weren’t that bright … or maybe they were just so desperate to have things back to normal they’d grasp at anything to hang on to that illusion.

Most of the new arrivals were Breakthrough employees; the few who weren’t seemed to be friends of the Breakthrough employees.
All
of them had the little Oakhurst pin or tie tack or cuff links with the black serpent on it. Now that had a perfectly reasonable explanation, of course; the Gatekeepers would naturally have kept in touch with each other to a greater extent than ordinary Oakhurst grads. Mark Rider probably kept tabs on all of them and had them all in his address book. When Doctor Ambrosius called him for help, all he had to do was have his secretary work his phone tree.

Still, you’d think there’d be at least one or two without the black snake … and one or two who didn’t make her skin crawl. But they all seemed to be out of the same mold—oh, not in the way that they looked, because they ranged from geeky nerds with thick black-rimmed glasses and rumpled clothing, through people who looked like career soldiers, to people like Mark Rider and Madison Lane-Rider—but in the intensity of how they looked at you. As if they were sizing you up, all the time.

And most of them were actually
living
here. The building crew already had dorm-trailers and they brought in more for most of the Alumns. The rest were in guest rooms in the same wing that housed the Infirmary and Doc Mac’s office. Mr. and Mrs. Rider were the only ones who weren’t physically at Oakhurst. From what Spirit heard through Muirin, there wasn’t a motel in Radial that suited their lifestyle so they were living out of two enormous and blindingly luxurious bus-sized RVs, one serving as their office complex (complete with high-speed wireless), the other (which had a hot tub!) as their “apartment.” The four geeks had taken over all of the old storage rooms in the gym and had filled them full of computers—and other things that looked sort of computer-ish, but which no one was allowed to look at too closely. The six army guys were out doing things on the grounds. They assured everyone that whatever they were doing would absolutely ignore anyone who belonged here at Oakhurst. And even though most of them carried at least sidearms, it was magic stuff they were doing out there.

With all of these people here, Spirit expected something big and magical, but in fact … the siege began quietly.

All the Gatekeepers-slash-Breakthrough employees began mingling with the students in the lounges after supper—or popping up and offering to help with something, generally in classes or training.
Okay,
Spirit thought,
that kind of makes sense. We’re all living together here, so they’re just being friendly. Right?
But she kept a very sharp eye on them anyway, and she started to notice how they’d ooze up to kids who were sticking loosely together. Then a couple of them would get one of the lot aside for something. A couple of rounds of that, and the kids who’d been as much friends as you could be here started keeping their distance from the others, and if anything, spending time with the Breakthrough people. (Which was kind of more
eww
because even the youngest of the Breakthrough people was over drinking age.)

Spirit waited, and sure enough, one night a couple of them moved in on Burke.

Except when they were getting together specifically for games or when Spirit was going out of her way to hook up with Muirin under the twin guises of “teach me about fashion” and “teach me about Combat magic,” Murr-cat was mostly still hanging out with Madison Lane-Rider. Burke, however, was sticking with the group while still radiating body language that said “I’m not sure I’m completely comfortable here.” Maybe that was why they zeroed in on him.

It was a couple of the military types, which really should not have been a surprise. Burke looked kind of like them, with his athletic build, his short hair, and his quiet and polite manner. She caught them talking to him casually between classes, murmuring earnestly. Then that night, they intercepted him at the door of the lounge, and pulled him off to the side.

She knew Burke pretty well by now, and it seemed to her that he didn’t like what he was hearing but was too cautious to show it. Much. As an experiment, she got up and headed in the direction of the kitchen for a juice. One of the geek-girls just happened to turn up at the open fridge just as she was reaching in.

“Hi, you’re Spirit, right? I’m Mandy.” The girl pushed her glasses up on her nose and got the same sort of ginseng tea that Spirit had chosen. “This place make you as crazy as it did me when I was going here?”

Spirit might not have noticed before she’d gotten her series of fashion info-dumps from Muirin, but now … she tried not to frown as she cataloged Mandy’s outfit and realized that it could not have possibly been more precisely put together to appeal to the “old” Spirit. No-name, unpretentious sneakers, no-name jeans, a muted t-shirt with a worn Lord of the Rings eagle graphic in earth tones layered over a comfy sweater … Mandy was dressed
exactly
the way Spirit used to.

“Mostly I’m scared,” Spirit said hesitantly. “I mean, they keep telling me I have magic, but so far it’s not showing, and…” She shrugged. “I don’t know how to fight. That attack when we were out riding…” She teared up, and didn’t try to stop it. “People
died
. I was just lucky it wasn’t
me
.”

“Don’t worry about fighting. That’s what the meat-shields are for,” Mandy said with a little snort. “As for the magic, late-bloomers tend to get the more interesting Schools anyway. Early gets flashy; late gets the good stuff. Your peeps giving you a hard time for not having anything yet?”

“Yeah,” Spirit lied, to see what Mandy would say.

“Figures. Trust Fund set. Used to getting everything handed to ’em; you can bet they’re thinking once they’re graduated, you’ll make a great maid. They have to put up with you ’cause Oakhurst is all about making us equal, and probably you’ve got something they can use, but boy, does that ever change once you’re out.” Mandy leaned against the door frame and drank her tea. “Not like Mark. He made his own way and his own money. He’s one of us.”

I’ll just bet,
Spirit thought.

“Have you thought about what you
are
going to do when you graduate?” Mandy continued.

“Don’t you mean, ‘if I get out of this alive’?” Spirit countered, allowing herself to sound bitter. “’Cause that isn’t looking good from where I sit.”

Mandy waved her hand carelessly. “Stick with my bunch when the fireworks start, they don’t dare let us die, we’re too important. No, seriously, you need to start thinking about things like that. You don’t want to end up in fast food. Breakthrough’s got scholarships for Oakhurst grads who don’t have Trusts to fall back on. Who else do you think would be willing to hire a Bachelor of Arts in—oh—Languages, Mythology, and Literature? At Breakthrough, we don’t call that degree ‘useless,’ we call that a researcher. Archaeology, oh man, you bet, there is an outstanding scholarship for anyone willing to go all the way to a Ph.D. in Archaeology. But, of course, anyone who got these scholarships would have to be a
magician,
and there aren’t a lot of those around.”

“Huh,” Spirit said. “I didn’t know…”

“Go ahead and use those so-called friends of yours, because God knows they’ll use you. But when Breakthrough comes through before graduation recruiting, sign up for the college sponsorship program. Hell, if your foreign languages are good enough, they’ll send you overseas to college. Always wanted to go overseas? Want to attend Oxford? Glasgow University? The Sorbonne? University of Vienna? Study in Rome?” Her eyes glittered behind her glasses. “They’ve sent people all over.”

It made Spirit a little sick and a lot angry to realize how much Breakthrough knew about her. They’d obviously picked out the right person with the right offer to tempt her. Before she’d come here she’d never been outside of Indiana—she would have
killed
for a full scholarship to study abroad. And when she’d first gotten here, it would have worked, too. But the more Mandy bad-mouthed
her friends,
the angrier Spirit got.

But she was smart enough not to show it. Instead, she nodded, and continued to look scared and timid, and finally Mandy seemed to think she’d done her job and let her go. Spirit wasn’t sure whether to head back to where she’d left the others, and hesitated just inside the door, trying to see if anyone was still there. It was pretty obvious from the body language in the room that the Gatekeepers were having the effect they wanted. Those who were still sitting together were doing so warily, and the lounge was emptying.

She was about to go further into the room when Loch passed her, hands shoved in his pockets. “Train station. Now,” he muttered under his breath as he passed, paying no outward attention to her. She waited just long enough for him to get well into the boys’ dorm, then headed quickly for her own room to snatch up her coat and slip out the door. There was plenty of time before lights out, and even now, no one restricted movement on campus. Officially, anyway.

As always, the winter cold nearly took her breath away. But now there was the added hazard of having to avoid the military guys. She scouted carefully. Tonight there were only two of them on the school grounds: one guarding the stable and one the gym. But just to be sure, she tried to keep as much in the shadows as possible as she sprinted for the tiny rail station.

She reached it and ducked inside. “Hey?” she whispered into the darkness.

“We’re all here,” Burke said, in normal tones. “You’re the last one. Well, except for Murr-cat…” His voice trailed off.

“I passed her a note, but she was pretty wrapped up in Ovcharenko,” Addie said sadly into the darkness. “I don’t—”

But then the sound of light footsteps running toward them made them all fall silent and hold their breaths. Spirit felt someone grab her and stifled a squeak as arms went around her. “If it’s anyone other than Muirin, pretend like we’re making out,” Burke breathed into her ear. “That’s the plan.” He turned her so that she was facing into his chest, and put both his arms around her.

Her heart thudded and she felt a little dizzy. She had to lock her knees to keep her legs from trembling.

Nice plan—

“Guys?” Muirin said from the doorway.

Burke didn’t let go of Spirit for a good long moment. “We’re all here,” Addie replied. “Glad you could make it.”

“Are you?” came the uncertain reply.

“Yes!” Spirit said firmly, before anyone else could speak—and so that it wouldn’t sound as if they were hesitant. The others chimed in just as firmly.

“Okay then … ’cause I think if you aren’t sitting down, you’d better. Or, wait.” Spirit heard the shuffling of feet as Muirin worked her way along a wall. “Yeah, here, I thought I remembered right. There’s a closet here under the platform, sometimes people use it for making out. Let’s all get in there so I can make a light. Follow my voice.”

Now Burke let Spirit go, but kept a firm grip on her gloved hand as he led her toward Muirin. They all crowded into the closet, which was low-ceilinged, but bigger than Spirit would have thought. The door closed, and Muirin muttered something. Spirit winced away as a ball of light that was
way
too bright after the darkness of the station flared up in Muirin’s hand. The room was about six by ten and completely empty.

“So?” Burke said, once they were settled.

Muirin looked away from him uneasily. “Uh … I’m not sure where to start,” she said, finally, and sighed. “Okay, look. I’ve been hanging out with Anastus, not Dylan. I mean, come on, he’s Russian, he’s hot, and it’s a kick to be with an older guy, okay? So I knew that tonight was going to be ‘recruit the kids’ night for the Breakthrough peeps.”

“And you didn’t—” Loch began, then shrugged. “Yeah, no point in warning us, it’s not like we could have done anything about it.”

“Well … something happened today with Anastus.” She swallowed. “He met me after dinner and we went out in his car, but all we did was sit in the driveway with the heat on while he drank. My God, I thought Step could put it away!” she added, aghast. “I mean, straight vodka, right out of the bottle, like it was soda!”

“He’s Russian,” Loch said, as if that explained everything.

“What
ever
! Anyway, I think he was trying to get me drunk, but he was so mad he didn’t notice when I just kept passing the bottle back to him, and pretty soon … he was talking. A lot.” Her voice took on an edge. “So that’s when I found out I’m second string to Madison so far as he’s concerned. I heard
all
about Madison and how bad he wants to get into her pants. And how since I’m her
sestra,
which I guess means sister, I’ll do until he gets a shot at her.”

There was awkward silence for a moment. “Well,” Addie said judiciously, “that’s not the sort of thing I want to hear out of a guy, but—”

“That’s not why I’m here,” Muirin interrupted. “Okay, that was bad enough, because I don’t like being
anyone’s
substitute mama, but then he started telling me about his family. Only I mean Family, with a capital “F.” He’s
Bratva
.”

“Holy crap,” Loch swore. “
Russkaya Mafiya
. Maf. Russian Mafia. Now a whole lot of stuff starts to make sense.”

“Yeah,” Muirin said bitterly. “He told me all about his connections. His father is supposed to be pretty big stuff; specializes in murder-for-hire and he’s a high-dollar smuggler. Which is how Dr. Ambrosius met him and then met Anastus, and Dr. Ambrosius persuaded the old man to let Anastus come to Oakhurst.”