Spirit Prophecy Read online

  “Nothing, just a bit of last minute cleaning,” she insisted. “What do you say, shall we explore the gardens? There’s a really lovely —”

  “Celeste, can we see the door?” Hannah asked.

  Celeste’s too-bright smile faded. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

  “Why, what’s going on?” I asked.

  Celeste looked back and forth between the two of us, then sighed resignedly and stepped away from our door. As she did so, her hands dropped to her sides, revealing a sodden cloth, stained pink. “I was hoping I could clean it off before you saw it.”

  There, smeared in red paint across our door, was a welcome message that Celeste hadn’t yet been able to fully scrub into obscurity.

  “Go home, traitors!”

  4

  PASSING OF THE TORCH

  “OH, NO THEY DID NOT,” Milo said, and faded away without so much as another word.

  “Milo, come back! It’s not worth it!” Hannah called after him, but he didn’t reappear.

  “I’m so sorry,” Celeste said, dropping the rag into the bucket and raising her hands in a helpless gesture. “I don’t know what to say. Your family’s return has been a very —”

  “It’s not your fault,” I said. “Karen explained the whole thing to us downstairs. Thanks for trying to clean it off, but I think it’s probably better that we saw it. Better to know what we’re actually up against here.”

  “I think I need to find some paint remover. The soap doesn’t seem to be working,” she said, wiping her hands on a towel and picking up the bucket. “I’ll get the maintenance staff on it straight away. I’ve alerted the Council, and we will be sure to investigate —”

  “I don’t think the Council will care very much,” Hannah said. “They’re the ones who hate us, aren’t they?”

  “The Council doesn’t hate you,” Celeste said, placing a hand on Hannah’s shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. Hannah did not pull away this time. “I’m on the Council, and I can say that with certainty. There are a few members who have a hard time forgiving and forgetting, and I’m afraid they’ve passed their prejudices on to their daughters. But on the whole, the Durupinen honor and respect each other, regardless of any bumps in the road. We will make a full investigation into this incident, and the Council will take it very seriously, I promise you.”

  “If you say so,” I muttered, watching the hate speak drip in pink, soapy rivulets down the grain of the wooden planks.

  “Whatever their personal opinions may be, they know how detrimental this sort of behavior can be amongst Apprentices, and they won’t risk the trouble it could cause in the long run. Why don’t you go rest for a bit before tonight’s welcoming ceremony. I’ll take care of this,” she said, with a wave at the door, “and your aunt will be up in a few minutes. She’s just getting your clan garb for the ceremony tonight.”

  “Clan garb?” Hannah asked.

  Celeste nodded. “Yes, you’ll see what I mean when she gets back. The whole evening is really quite beautiful; I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.” And with one last disgusted look at our graffitied door, she turned and left.

  We walked back into our room and Hannah shut the door behind us, keeping the unpleasantness firmly on the other side of the wall. She took one of the dusty old books off of the shelf by her bed, seemingly at random, and curled up with it.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  She didn’t answer, but opened the book and hid herself behind it. I didn’t blame her. It was a stupid question —we were both a long, miserable journey from okay. My gaze fell on our pile of empty suitcases, and I wondered how long it would take to just pack them all up again and get the hell out of here.

  A quick knock resounded on our door and it opened before we could respond. Karen poked her head around, an ugly look on her face.

  “Hi.”

  “Hey,” I said, gesturing her in.

  She slipped through the door and shut it behind her. She had an antique wooden box tucked under her arm, which she placed on my desk. “Celeste told me—”

  “How did the removal of the Binding go?” I asked pointedly.

  Karen glanced at Hannah, then took my cue and changed the subject. “Very well. I can see spirits again. I saw several just on my way up here.”

  “Congratulations,” I said, without enthusiasm.

  “I realize you can’t really understand this, Jess, but it’s a big relief for me. This is how it’s supposed to be for me. Being cut off from it was unnatural. It felt wrong.”

  “You’re right, I can’t understand it,” I said. “What’s in the box?”

  “They’re your clan garb for tonight.”

  “I don’t suppose they include two plane tickets back to the States?” I asked.

  Karen ignored the question and opened the box instead. “It’s a really beautiful ceremony. I’m sure you’ll both really enjoy it.”

  “That’s what Celeste said. What do we have to do?” came Hannah’s muffled voice from behind her copy of “Geatgrima: A Historie of the Durupinen in the British Isles.”

  “Do?”

  “What’s our role in the ceremony?”

  “Oh, it’s really just a bit of pageantry to welcome all of the Apprentices. All you need to do is show up in the appropriate attire and hold a candle.”

  “What attire?” I asked, eyeing the box warily. It didn’t look big enough to hold entire outfits, but I still cringed to think what bizarre possibilities lay within.

  Karen laughed. “You need to wear white, but it can be your own clothing. The box only has a few accessories in it, see?” She pulled out two purple silk sashes and two gold necklaces.

  Hannah peeked over the top of her book as Karen handed me a sash; the fabric was soft and cool to the touch, as though it were woven of water. A large golden triskele was stitched onto it.

  “This goes over your left shoulder,” she explained, pulling it over my head and adjusting it carefully. “We’ll pin it here, so that it doesn’t slip off. And then the necklace.” She handed one to me. It was a triskele as well, heavy and intricately shaped from intertwined bands of gold. Tiny amethysts, winking like fireflies in the lamplight, were set all along the edges.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said, caressing it with a tentative finger. “You realize, of course, that there is not a single white item in my wardrobe.”

  Karen winked at me. “I knew that, which is why I took the liberty of buying you some.” She reached into a large paper shopping bag and pulled out a pile of white fabric, which she thrust into my arms. “You can be pissed at me later, but for now just try the damn things on, okay? We don’t have a lot of time to find you something else if they don’t fit,” she said as I opened my mouth to argue. She held another white garment out to Hannah. “Hannah? Would you try this on, please? You already had that white button-down shirt, so I just got you a skirt.”

  Hannah slid off the bed and pulled the skirt up over her hips. It was a long and ruffled Bohemian-style skirt, and it suited her. She even cracked a smile and twirled around once, so that the fabric billowed out like a sigh. “It’s really pretty, Karen, thanks.”

  “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 o
f 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.