Surrender (14 page)

“She threw it into the fire,” Harry said, his voice trembling.

“What?” Britta shrieked. “What fire? Where?”

I rammed my shoulder against the door, but it didn't budge. It wasn't locked, it was stuck with ghostly energy.

“Sauron's mountain,” Harry said. “After Gandalf told her—”

“You lie!” Britta bellowed.

She hovered directly over Harry, and the other ghosts spun the music stands closer, for killing blows.

Sara screamed again, and I lashed at the door with compelling power and hit it with my shoulder at the same time. The door flung open and I skidded halfway across the floor, but it didn't matter—I didn't need to aim. I loosed a burst of dispelling force strong enough to scour the room of ghosts. The cop and the rat-faced man unraveled into scraps of spectral dust, and the ghost inside Britta vaporized, too.

She dropped from the ceiling directly onto Harry. His trumpet clattered across the floor, and sheet music drifted down around us like snow.

“Damn,” Sara said, catching her breath.

“It's over,” I said. “Are you guys okay?”

“No!” Harry said, lying in a heap under Britta. “I've got
Paranormal Activity
sitting on my head.”

“Poor Britta,” I said, rolling her off him. Her skin was already regaining a more natural color, and though she was still unconscious, she seemed to be breathing okay.

“Poor Britta?!” Sara said. “She almost killed us.”

“That wasn't her,” I explained. “She was possessed.”

“Yeah, we noticed,” Sara said, her face flushed. “What the hell is going on?”

“Um … can you put the chair down?”

She realized she'd been holding the chair like she was preparing to brain me. “Sorry.”

Then Lukas burst into the room, followed closely by Natalie. “What happened?”

“A ghost possessed Britta,” I said, “and drafted some others to help her threaten Sara and Harry.”

“Britta said Emma wanted to meet us here,” Harry said, lifting his head from the floor. “She was after your precious.”

I touched the chain around my neck, and felt the band of gold still hanging there under my shirt. “My ring?”

“She wanted to know where you kept it,” Sara explained.

“How hard is it to find?” Natalie asked.

“Well, she didn't seem like the sharpest ghost in the attic,” Harry said, lying back down. “And she sounded like she was from the seventeenth century. Now if you'll
excuse me, I need to faint.” He held his hand to his head like an old Victorian lady.

“Why did she want your ring?” Lukas asked.

“Ghosts can possess people?” Sara said, panicked. “Can we stop them? How do we stop them? Where's Coby? Why—”

“Slow down!” I told her. “Neos must still want my ring. He thinks it'll have the opposite effect on him and let him become mortal. He's gotten more powerful. He doesn't need the amulet anymore to possess people, and now I guess he's teaching other ghosts how to do it. When I ran into Britta yesterday, she seemed strange. She wasn't possessed by
this
ghost, though; I would've noticed.”

“Strange how?” Natalie asked.

“I don't know. Talking weird. And she checked out my hands, like she was …” I fingered the silver band on my right hand. “Yeah.”

“Looking for your ring,” Natalie finished.

“Could she have been possessed by a completely different ghost yesterday?” Lukas shook his head. “We'd better call Simon.”

“How'd you find us?” Sara asked Natalie.

“Lukas sensed a major ghost and we came to check it out,” Natalie told her.

“Next time,” Sara said, “come faster.”

“Odd that I didn't notice any …,” Natalie mused, then petered off, as though something had just occurred to her.

The same thing was occurring to me. That had been a
serious ghost, plus two more. Why had Lukas sensed the ghost and not Natalie? She was the summoner, more sensitive to ghosts that weren't right in front of her. Which meant it was already happening.

On the floor beside Harry, Britta moaned and started to wake.

“I'll deal with her,” Sara said. She helped Britta sit up and began to lie. “Sweetie, did you forget to eat today?”

Britta blinked at her. “W-what?”

“You fainted.”

“I don't remember.”

“No? We were talking, and—”

“That's not what happened. It was her.” She pointed a finger at me, her perfectly manicured nail looking more like a claw. “Emma.”

I opened my mouth, not sure what to say, when Lukas crouched beside Britta, his eyes warm and concerned. “Why don't I drive you home?”

The light returned to her eyes, and she said, “Would you?”

He said, “My pleasure,” as Natalie rolled her eyes.

“I'll follow you and give you a ride back,” Sara said. “Coming, Harry?”

“No.” He finally stood. “I want to talk to Emma.”

Britta risked one last look at me. “I know you did something. I'm going to get you for this.”

“Oh, Britta,” Harry said. “You're like the bitchy girl in a bad movie. It's adorable.”

She made a strangled sound as Lukas escorted her into
the hallway. Natalie and Sara trailed along behind, leaving me alone with Harry.

“I'd better go,” I said. I didn't want to get him more involved in any of this.

“I'll walk you,” he replied, his voice determined.

“Maybe you should go home and take a nap,” I suggested, making one last attempt to avoid a confrontation with Harry. He'd left his car in the lot and followed me out of Thatcher's front gates.

He slipped his arm in mine. “You know better than that. If I was easy to dodge, I'd have no friends.”

“Are you kidding? Everyone loves you.”

“Well, I
am
irresistible,” he allowed. “Like chocolate-covered happiness.”

I snorted. “That ghost that possessed Britta wanted to crack open your cream-filled center.”

“Doomed to failure. Everyone knows I'm full of nougat.”

We waited for a break in traffic, then crossed the street. “What are we talking about, again?” I asked.

“We're talking about killer ghosts hunting you, using your friends as bait.”

I swallowed. “I'm sorry. That's why I haven't told you
what's going on. I didn't want to drag you and Sara into this. First Coby, and now—”

“You idiot,” he snapped. “I'm not worried about us. I'm worried about
you
. Emma, listen to me. I cannot lose another friend.”

“Neither can I, Harry,” I said, extricating my arm. “Why do you think I tried to keep you out of this?”

I strode ahead and he struggled to keep up with me. I walked quickly, trying to stay warm, while avoiding the patches of ice along the sidewalk. Harry caught my arm as I almost slipped.

“I can't see ghosts,” he said. “I can't shoot death rays from my fingertips and battle wraiths. But I can help, Emma. Me and Sara both.”

“No,” I said, firmly. “Stay out of it.”

“Don't tell me that. We're already in it. Because of Coby, because of you. You're not the only one who wants to avenge Coby, and you need help. Tell me what's going on.”

We turned down the museum drive, and I found Coby standing in the middle of the gravel lane, looking like something out of a supernatural thriller. His gorgeous face, the gray suit, the cold New England landscape his backdrop. The museum even looked haunted, which I suppose it was.

He's right, you know
, he said.
You should let him help.

Why? So he can get killed like you?

Because we need all the help we can get. It's time to end this, Emma. I'll protect Harry
.

“Coby's here, isn't he?” Harry asked.

I nodded. “He says I should let you help.”

“He's pretty smart for being so good-looking,” Harry said.

I didn't want to admit it, but Coby was right. With Simon and Bennett gone and Natalie and Lukas busy with each other, I felt rudderless. I needed a new team. Coby, Max, and now Harry and Sara.

“Okay, then.” We stood there in the cold in the middle of the museum's driveway while I told him about Aunt Rachel, the Knell, and Neos's ashes.

“Whoa,” he said, when I finished. “I can't wait to get all that on Twitter.”

“Harry!”

“Kidding. But there's a whole secret society and everything? I guess I thought it was just you, a couple other ghostkeepers, and a few big, bad ghosts.”

“That's why I didn't want you involved. It's dangerous, Harry.”

He looked toward the snow-covered trees, and I thought he was going to back out, but he said, “I can find the ashes. I spent two semesters stashing bottles at Thatcher—I know every corner and hidey-hole.”

Coby grinned.
I told you
.

Maybe it was the ghost that had possessed Britta and almost killed Harry and Sara, or maybe it was just the cold, but I was suddenly overwhelmed. Tears filled my eyes at how grateful I was to have friends like Coby and Harry. They hadn't even known me three months, and now here they were helping me fight for everything.

“Ah, Emma, don't cry,” Harry said. “Why are you crying?”

“I don't know,” I sniffled.

Coby reached out an arm to comfort me, then remembered he could burn me. His expression, as I flinched away from him, was devastating. I could see in his eyes the hurt and frustration that he was no longer alive. And as Harry put his arms around me, I cried all the harder into his thick wool coat.

Harry and Coby left me at the door, and it was a relief to step into the warm stillness of the museum. I shed my coat and boots in the hall closet and considered my next move.

I wanted to run upstairs and climb into bed. Ask Nicholas to make me a fire, Celeste to bring me hot chocolate, then cry into the phone to Bennett about the possession. But Nicholas was dead, I didn't like ordering Celeste around, and Bennett was too far away to be of real comfort.

I needed to face this head-on. I thought for a second, with one hand on the banister, and a plan took shape in my mind. I went to Mr. Stern's office and knocked on the door. He looked up, his expression vague yet concerned. “Are you all right, Emma?”

“I need to talk to you,” I said. “All of you. Mrs. Stern, Lukas, Natalie, and we need Max. Do you have a speakerphone in here? Could we call the Knell that way?”

He pierced me with those blue eyes that were so much like Bennett's. “What's this about? What's happened?”

“A ghost possessed a girl at school.”

His breath caught. “A regular ghost? An ordinary girl? I mean, not a wraith and not a ghostkeeper?”

“Yeah. But I only want to tell the story once, if that's okay.”

He nodded. “Of course, Emma. I'll let them know at the Knell and tell Alex. You really are all right?”

I nodded. “Just shaken up.”

“I can imagine,” he said, with an absent smile. “Well, you're not the only one, but we'll get through this.”

I nodded, then went to the kitchen, where I politely asked Anatole to make me a mocha red-eye chai.

Rough day?
he asked, sliding it along the counter toward me. The American idiom sounded funny coming from him.

And it's only going to get worse
, I said, anticipating my parents and Bennett's reaction when I told them that Thatcher students were getting possessed. And that Neos was after my ring.

We all gathered in Mr. Stern's office—me, Lukas and Natalie, and Mr. and Mrs. Stern. Max had been the last to show, and was bitter about cutting his Ancient Greek class. Mr. Stern dialed the Knell.

Simon's voice came from the speakerphone. “Whenever you're ready, Emma.”

“Is Bennett there?” I asked.

“No, he's—out at the moment. But please, go ahead.”