Spirit Prophecy Page 7

  “Yeah, I’m not your mate, so will you please get the hell out of my shower now?” I said.

  She grinned at me. “I suppose so.” She hopped up, pulled the curtain and stepped out, shaking water out of her clothes and her long red hair.

  I pulled the curtain, finished my shower, and shrugged into my bathrobe. When I emerged a few minutes later, toweling my hair dry, the girl was still there, sitting cross-legged on the radiator sucking on a lit cigarette. She watched me as I began tugging a brush through my tangles.

  “Fag?” she asked, extending the crumpled pack toward me.

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  She continued to stare at me, smoking her cigarette with relish.

  “So, are you Savannah?” I finally asked.

  “Guilty as charged,” she said.

  “Why was Celeste looking for you? What did you do?”

  She shrugged and expelled a plume of smoke over her head. “It wasn’t so much what I did as what I didn’t do.”

  “Which was?”

  She didn’t answer at first. She seemed to be sizing me up, trying to decide if I was trustworthy.

  “Look, if you’re worried I’m going to tell someone, I think you’ve got the upper hand on personal information here. I mean, you did just see me completely naked.”

  Savannah gave a grunting snort of a laugh and flicked the spent cigarette into the sink. It was actually a pretty impressive shot from about fifteen feet away. “No need to be embarrassed there, love. Nothing I haven’t seen before, and you’ve got a nice set there.”

  Her London accent was so strong that it took me a moment to register what she’d said, and then my face went scarlet with mortification. “Uh, thanks, I guess.”

  “No problem. And in answer to your question, I skived off the ceremony last night in favor of another social engagement.”

  “Social engagement?”

  “One of my friends from home was throwing a party and I wasn’t about to miss it,” she said, hopping off of the radiator to stand in front of the next sink. She rubbed vigorously under her eyes, trying to remove some of the previous evening’s makeup that had settled there.

  “You skipped the welcoming ceremony for a party?” I asked.

  “I know, I know, it wasn’t even worth it. That cab cost a bloody fortune and the coppers broke it up before things really got going. Still, I bet it was a damn sight better than all that candle nonsense.”

  I smiled in spite of myself. “You’re probably right.”

  “What’s your name, then?” she asked me.

  “I’m Jess Ballard,” I said, bracing myself for the same negative reaction we’d gotten from most of the other people we’d met, but she just wrung my hand with a vice-like handshake.

  “Alright, Jess? I’m Savannah Todd. Folks call me Savvy, and I suppose you can too, if you fancy. Thanks again for covering for me. I’ll have to face them eventually, I know, but I was hoping I could at least have some breakfast first.” She crossed over to the door and peeked into the hallway. “Coast is clear. Think I’ll try to rustle up some toast. See you down there?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  She flashed that toothpaste commercial smile again and left.

  §

  When Hannah and I entered the dining room about half an hour later, ranks had already closed. Like a high school cafeteria in a made-for-TV movie, dirty looks followed us as we made our way through the buffet line and over to the same corner table we’d eaten at the day before with Karen. I could actually feel the absence of an angsty acoustic soundtrack. I was prepared for another isolated meal, but a few moments later, Savannah came strutting over to us, tray in hand, and dropped into the chair across from me.

  “Alright?” she said genially. “Almost didn’t recognize you with all your clothes on.”

  “Hello again,” I said through a mouthful of scrambled egg. “Hannah, this is Savannah Todd, my, uh…shower buddy.” Hannah, blushing in apparent empathy, barely looked up from her oatmeal as she flicked her hand feebly in greeting.

  “So did Celeste track you down yet?” I asked.

  “Oh yeah, she gave me a right good talking to,” Savannah said, waggling her finger sternly at me. “Sadly, she didn’t chuck me out, but hey, there’s always next time.”

  “Do you want to get kicked out?” I asked, a little surprised. “Is that really even an option?”

  “Don’t think so, but I thought it was worth a try anyhow,” she said. She reached across, stole my knife without asking, and started using it to butter her toast. “I’ve been pretty successful at it before, but this ain’t exactly your typical school, is it?”

  “No, not exactly,” I said. “Why do you —”

  “Hello, there!”

  A tall, lanky girl with a heavily-freckled face and a strawberry-blonde pixie cut had walked up to our table. She was wearing a name tag that said, “MacKenzie” and was carrying several purple folders under one arm, which had a blue silk armband tied around it.

  “Hi,” I said a moment later than was probably polite, but I was too surprised by another friendly greeting to answer right away.

  “As my totally unnecessary name tag says, I’m MacKenzie Miller, but please don’t ever call me that, because I’ll completely ignore you. Just call me Mackie, alright?” She thrust out a hand to each of us in turn and we all shook it.

  “Nice to meet you all,” Mackie said.

  “Uh, you too,” I said.

  “My aunt is Celeste Morgan, so she’s got me on welcoming duty,” Mackie said, rolling her eyes. “Not that I wouldn’t have welcomed you anyway, seeing as you’re new and I’m the Head Girl, but now I get to look like an idiot while doing it.”

  I smiled tentatively at her. “Sorry about that.”

  She sighed. “No worries. Anyway, let me get through this official stuff, so you can get back to your breakfast. These are for you.” She handed each of us one of the purple folders. “Your class schedules are in there, and also a map of the school, so you don’t get lost, although you probably will anyway. There’s also a list of what to bring for classes and a letter about meeting with your mentors. Just look through it all, and if you have any questions, give me a shout.”

  “Cheers,” said Savannah, chucking the folder aside without opening it and returning to her toast.

  “Also, if you have any questions throughout the day, just find somebody with one of these blue armbands on. They’re the ones that already know their way around the castle, and can help you out.”

  I leaned past her to look around the room. I could see several blue armbands scattered among the tables.

  Peyton appeared just over Mackie’s shoulder. “Ah, you’ve already done the reject table, I see,” she said with a positively saccharine simper. “How chivalrous of you to take on the less pleasant tasks, but that falls to the Head Girl, I suppose.”

  Mackie forced a smile and imitated Peyton’s sugary tone. “Yes, you know me, I’m a giver. Now why don’t you make yourself useful and take these,” she shoved a few more purple folders into Peyton’s hands, “and sort out the last table by the windows. And try not to scare them away, would you?”

  Peyton glared at Mackie, but held back whatever snarky comment she was formulating. She stalked off toward the table Mackie had indicated, nose in the air.

  Mackie slid into the chair beside Savannah and cocked her head in Peyton’s direction. “I should warn you now, that not everyone with a blue armband will be equally helpful. In fact, don’t ask Peyton or any of her minions for directions unless you want to wind up in the dungeons.”

  I laughed, but Hannah squeaked, “We have dungeons?” Mackie smiled at her. “Well, yeah, but nothing that’s been used in about four hundred years, so I wouldn’t bother your head about it.”

  “Right,” Hannah said, and relaxed enough to attempt another bite of oatmeal.

  “Look,” Mackie said, dropping her camp counselor demeanor. “Don’t let Peyton or the others get to you. T
hey’re just terrified of anything out of the ordinary. The truth is that every clan is just as important as the next, and the instructors will teach you everything you need to know to fit right in.”

  “And if we don’t want to fit in?” Savannah asked, taking an interest in the conversation for the first time.

  “Then you just learn what you need to know, and get out of here as quick as you can,” Mackie said with a shrug. We all must have looked surprised, because she laughed and went on. “Probably not what you expected to hear from your Head Girl, right? Look, some of us make this our lives. We live here, we teach here, we get elected to committees and plan Durupinen cocktail parties. We define ourselves by it. But many others — most of us, in fact — finish our training here, turn our backs, and never see the bloody place again if we can help it. We do what we are required to do, but no more. We choose to define ourselves by other things. And that’s okay, too. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but a time will come when you can take control of your life again. But you need to put in the time here first, get the skills and training you need. I know you’ve all had a taste of what it’s like if you try to deal with your gifts on your own, and some of you have had more than a taste.”

  Here she stopped and smiled a little sadly at Hannah. Hannah caught her eye and, although she didn’t return the smile, she didn’t look away either.

  Mackie went on, “Fairhaven will help you make the best of it, I can promise you that. So,” she jumped up from the chair so quickly that I slopped half a cup of tea into my saucer in surprise, “good luck today, and chin up!” And with a sort of salute to the three of us, she turned jauntily on her heel and headed off to greet another table.

  “She was nice,” Hannah murmured.

  “Yeah, she was,” I said. “It’s nice to know we won’t be total outcasts.”

  “What’s with you two, then?” Savannah asked. “I thought my cousin and I were the only outsiders around here.”

  Despite the fact that this girl had seen all of me there was to see, I wasn’t about to go into the whole sad and sordid story with her; there were two different kinds of naked, after all. “We didn’t know we were Durupinen until a few weeks ago. Our family had sort of…stopped the whole thing and never told us about it, so now we have to start over.”

  “Well, you’re still a step ahead of me,” Savannah said, picking her teeth with the tines of her fork. “I’m the first one in my family to do this at all.”

  “What? How is that possible? Aren’t the clans all supposed to be ancient?

  How can you be the first one?”

  “Yeah, well one of your ancient clans died out recently, and you lot needed a new one to ‘maintain the balance’ or some crap like that. Are you going to finish that?” She pointed to Hannah’s untouched blueberry muffin. Hannah shook her head and Savannah slid the plate across the table and began wolfing it down with gusto.

  “So what, they…recruited you?” I asked.

  “Suppose you could say that,” Savannah said after a huge swallow. “They just turned up and told me that I needed to join up, said they found me because of my abilities.”

  “What abilities do you have?”

  “Same sort of thing as you, I’d think. When I went places, I’d sense stuff, like feelings and thoughts that weren’t my own. I’ve been like that my whole life. When I was very small, I used to tell my mum all about my grandparents, even though I’d never met them. In year four of primary school, I knew all the answers to the tests like someone was whispering them in my ear, even though I hadn’t studied a thing. It was brilliant. I got the best marks of my life.”

  “That happened to me once,” Hannah said, just a hint of a mischievous smile playing around her mouth. “My seventh grade history classroom was haunted by a former teacher. My living teacher thought I was a genius.”

  “It had its benefits sometimes,” Savannah said. “In the end I learned to tune it all out, or at least ignore it in public. But then about six months ago, that Celeste woman turned up on my doorstep and told me I had to come here. She said my abilities meant that I was supposed to be one of you. Well, I very nearly slammed the door right in her face. I thought she was a complete nutter. But she kept coming back, and finally one day, she started talking all about my grandparents, told me all sorts of things she never could have known. In the end I believed her, and so here I am. They needed two of us though, and so they brought my cousin Phoebe as well.”

  Savannah jerked her head over her shoulder toward the table behind us. The blonde girl who’d stood just behind us during the welcoming was sitting there by herself, chewing with her mouth slightly open as she picked raisins one by one out of her toast.

  “I only met her a few times as a kid. My mum and hers don’t get on very well and they live three hours from London in the tiniest, most boring village in the entire country — nothing in it but a few rundown cottages and about a million sheep. She’s probably the dullest person I’ve ever met, and now we’re stuck together for life. And I tell you this — if she thinks I’m moving to the sheep capital of the UK she can think again.”

  I laughed. “I guess we’ve all got some adjusting to do.”

  “You said it,” Savannah agreed.

  Somewhere in the castle, a deep booming bell began to clang, and all around us people rose in unison from the tables like a flock of startled birds. I dropped my spoon and checked my newly adjusted watch. It was 8:20. I fumbled to open the purple folder Mackie had given me and extracted my class schedule.

  “Okay, we’re going to Ceremonial Basics in room 481, which according to this,” I quickly scanned the map, “is only a few corridors over from our bedroom. It shouldn’t be too hard to find. Let’s go.”

  §

  Famous last words. Ten minutes and three wrong turns later we had found seats in the back left corner of the classroom, which looked more like a wealthy gentleman’s private study than any real classroom I’d ever been in. The walls were covered in beautiful tall mahogany bookcases, and a fire crackled gently in the fireplace behind the teacher’s desk, which was elaborately carved with clawed feet and an imposing, high-backed chair positioned behind it. Instead of traditional desks, each of us was seated at a small, highly-polished table, carved in the same style as the desk at the front. I wasn’t really surprised by the décor, since most of the castle had the same opulent, almost ostentatious kind of feel, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I ought to be wearing a stiffly starched dress, and that someone was going to make me stand beside my desk to recite my multiplication tables and rap my hands with a ruler if I made a mistake. Hannah was shooting covetous looks at the vast array of books, all richly-bound in leather with gold gilded titles stamped onto their spines.

  Phoebe walked in a minute or two after we did, but chose a seat three rows away from her cousin; she seemed too intimidated by Savannah to try to strike up a conversation. The other Apprentices looked totally at home, lounging in their seats, most of them chatting comfortably with each other. I noticed that no one was sitting on the right side of the room. The floor was inlaid with a line of black, quartz-like stone, which ran from the fireplace at the front all the way to the back wall, dividing the room in half and marking an aisle down the center of the desks. Every desk on the right hand side of the aisle was empty.

  Mackie walked in, followed by a girl who looked so much like her, she could only be her sister. They came down the aisle and headed for the table right in front of ours, which had remained conspicuously empty.

  “Jess, Hannah, meet the bane of my existence, my little sister Brenna,” Mackie said, clapping her sister on the back. Brenna smiled and gave us a little wave.

  “Thanks for the introduction, Mack,” Brenna grumbled, then turned to us with a friendly smile. “Hiya.”

  “Hi,” we both replied.

  “You’ve noticed the great divide, I see,” said Mackie, dropping into the seat in front of me. Brenna slid into the seat in front of Hannah.


  “Yeah. What’s that about?”

  “It’s to keep us all pure,” Mackie said, her expression very grave.

  “Sorry?”

  She snorted and her face broke into an easy grin. “It’s the Sanctity Line. All the classrooms have it. It’s to keep the Caomhnóir and the Durupinen separate when they have to take class together.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Deadly serious,” Mackie said with a chortle, and nodded toward the door.

  As though on cue, a Caomhnóir entered the room, followed by a line of boys who filed into the empty section of seats, silent and unsmiling. A few of them snuck sideways looks over to where we sat, but most averted their eyes, ignoring us completely.

  Savannah, who’d been slouched in her seat, perked up at once. “Hang on, now,” she said, running a hand through her long auburn curls. “You mean we actually take classes with blokes here? I thought it was just women!”

  “Whoa, girl. Don’t go turning on the charm just yet,” Mackie said. “Interaction between Caomhnóir and Durupinen is strictly monitored. The only times we’ll be together will be chaperoned, during classes and ceremonies. Socializing is expressly forbidden.”

  “What the hell century are they living in around here? And why are we —” I began.

  “Shhh,” Mackie hissed. “Here comes Siobhán. I expect she’ll lay it all out for us.”

  Our teacher lingered on the threshold, engaged in a brief exchange with the Caomhnóir standing just inside the doorway. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought it might have been the one who drove us from the airport; all the ones I’d seen so far had the same emotionless faces, so it was difficult to distinguish one from the other. After a few whispered sentences, he nodded curtly and took a seat that had been placed by the open door for him.

  As Siobhán swept into the room, the Caomhnóir all leapt to their feet respectfully. Startled, I half-rose from my chair as well, but Mackie caught my sleeve and shook her head; all of the other Apprentices had remained in their seats.