by Emme DeWitt
The nurses huddled around Colm, checking his vitals while assessing his injuries. They kept moving. He was still alive.
For now, the voice said. At least for now.
Thirty-One
My fingertips clawed at the thin skin of my temples. The pressure was comforting, especially as a headache blossomed in my skull. I pressed my forehead against the cool metal of the stairwell door. The squawking of the alarm had been silenced, and any noise from Colm’s room was too soft to pass the barrier of steel that hid me from the rest of the infirmary.
It’s not your fault, Evangeline said in my head. A wave of sympathy pushed the headache to the corners of my mind temporarily, but the emotion felt slippery and fake. I had never felt that emotion so strongly before, and I wasn’t really feeling it now. The feeling dissolved, and my mind fell back into analysis.
“If I’d been a little faster,” I muttered against the door. “Or if I’d seen the move ahead of time. I could have done something.”
He’s safe with the nurses. Without Adair’s special attentions, Colm will probably wake up soon. Trust me, Evangeline said. I could feel her desperation through the connection, and it was hard to believe she wasn’t standing right next to me in the stairwell.
“I need to see him,” I said. I pushed off from the door, slipping down the stairs as quickly and quietly as I could. No one knew I was here, and I would do my best to avoid any witnesses. I didn’t need any added Aileen drama about sneaking in on her boyfriend again. Campus was still buzzing about my alleged involvement with Sean’s death, even though the police presence on campus had dwindled back to pre-banshee levels. The rumor mill was stuck cycling between calls for my immediate arrest for the murder and gossip about whether my connection with Colm was friendly or a little too friendly. The storylines I’d overheard in the dining hall had better plots than most cable TV movies.
A question mark pinged in my mind, but I brushed it aside. Evangeline could wait to see about my plan, or she could pull the spoiler from the rapid thought web I was building for my next plan. As much as she claimed she was no mind reader, her impressions of thoughts I’d barely realized had been eerily accurate so far. Having Evangeline on my side against Adair, Mags, and what seemed like the entire Elevated community was a huge comfort. When Evangeline wasn’t curled in the fetal position from an emotional overload, her Elevated abilities leveled the playing field. At least I hoped they did.
Going on the offensive required more attention to detail, so I thought of all the minutiae that had been gathering slowly in the recesses of my brain from my first moment on campus. I needed to be ready for every possible game plan.
The emergency exit door creaked as I opened it slightly. The exit dumped me into a side alleyway between looming brick academic buildings. Behind me led the way to the staff parking lot and a series of dumpsters.
My fingers trailed along the wall as my eyes darted toward the quad. The opening was sporadically overshadowed with passing students, and I had to hug the wall to remain unseen. I would have felt like a spy had the rough teeth of the brick wall not pilled my entire outfit into a large piece of velcro. The jagged stones opened up the scratches on my palms again, and the stinging of the open cuts pulled my focus back to task.
All clear, Evangeline hummed in my mind.
Without hesitation, I darted into the open courtyard, dashing across the quad and back toward the library before anyone noticed. For once, I didn’t feel any eyes on my back as I ducked into the library and back up the stairs.
As I took them two by two, I realized the lightness of my bag. I had been carrying around several books lately, and their absence and the absence of my poorly penned melodies soured my mood considerably. One by one, everything I’d touched at Windermere was trickling through my fingertips.
Adele.
Mags.
Sean.
Colm.
I stopped short of entering Evangeline’s assigned study room, finding it oddly empty. My head whipped around, searching for the slight dark-haired library gremlin who didn’t get enough sun.
Har har har, Evangeline said in my head. Even her tone was dry. Her thought pushing was getting eerily realistic.
Why, thank you, Evangeline said, this time in her normal tone. I’m filling in Ms. Xavier on our missing research. I’ll be back shortly. Like you said, I’m only allowed to leave my dungeon for meal breaks and national holidays.
I scowled into the empty room, feeling stupid for worrying for no reason. Of course nothing had happened to Evangeline in the fifteen minutes I’d left her alone. Adair might be devious, but he only had his two legs to stand on. He couldn’t be everyone’s boogeyman at the same time.
The library felt as empty as it had before the massive plunder of research only minutes ago. No eyes seemed to be following me, but I still felt on edge. I walked past vacant stacks and empty tables, finding no apparent reason for my unease.
My feet took me to Winter automatically. If I had to start over, I knew where a plethora of new research materials was waiting. I crouched down, finding the old skeleton key tucked inside the tongue of my lone remaining pair of shoes. I patted myself on the back for not keeping the key in my bag, wondering if the pillager would have recognized it and stolen it along with my detailed, cross-referenced notes.
I slipped inside the old study before I lost my chance at anonymity. There was something highly satisfying about having a place completely to yourself. This wasn’t some underrated French bistro in the commerce district. It was a literal treasure trove of forgotten Elevated knowledge.
The marked books still hung slightly suspended in the air from my first pass at the wall of shelves. The glint of foil waved to me from several spines, and I dropped my bag on the overstuffed couch to explore the shelves once more. The afternoon light fell on the bookcases differently today, and I zoned in on the odd infrequency of the foiled spines.
Evangeline and I had noticed the Elevated books were mainly printed between 1930 and 1950. The yellowing of the paper and the typeset was consistent, but the foil embossed covers caught my eye. Some glinted gold, seemingly never touched. Others had a more mottled look, as if the metal had tarnished over the years. Had those books been handled more? Or had they been stored poorly up until now?
My fingers ran down the spines, leaving the staggered books in place as I sorted through the multitude of possibilities. Amid all the details, I wanted to find a common thread. I just hoped it was relevant. I did not have time to waste on a fool’s errand. Not right now, anyway.
A syncopated flutter of footsteps erupted down the curved hallway on the other side of the door. My fingers froze on a volume of Gorsky’s Theorem of Refraction in Echolocation as a pair of voices joined the thundering footfalls. I held my breath, cringing at the thought of every sound in the private study echoing back out into the hallway and giving me away. But based on the argument erupting outside my door, no sound I made would even register.
“What did I tell you about drawing attention to yourself?” Mags scolded loudly. The reception was so clear, I flinched, imagining her standing immediately next to me.
“I handled it,” Adair replied, his indifferent tone receiving a derisive snort from Mags.
“Yeah, at what cost? If you keep pushing her, she’ll start pushing back,” Mags growled. “She knows it’s you. She won’t trust you anymore.”
“You’re naive if you thought your approach would work,” Adair said. “I had to do what I could. We’re running out of time.”
“It takes time to gain a person’s trust,” Mags said, her words choked. I could imagine her clenched teeth through the door. “Not everyone can be tortured into submission.”
“I merely suggest possible outcomes to a subconscious mind. What they do with that information once they’re awake is completely out of my control,” Adair said. I could clearly hear the arrogance in his voice through the wall. Adair seemed to be believing his own lie.
“Your sugges
tions have an odd habit of emotionally damaging your victims,” Mags shot back. “And who has to clean it up then?”
“Careful, Mags,” Adair said. “Your inferiority complex is showing.”
“I am not inferior because I don’t throw my weight around like a petulant grizzly bear,” Mags said. “Your brashness could damage the outcome of all the effort the Association has put in here at Windermere. Do you even know what it takes to corral this many Elevated kids into one place? How many years they’ve been waiting to bring everyone together?”
“If you want results, you have to take action,” Adair said. “They wanted results. I took action. The details are irrelevant.”
“The details include the daughter of the most powerful lawyer in New England and the youngest Deputy Chancellor in the history of the Association,” Mags said. “The ramifications of not bringing her in could jeopardize the entire future of the Association. Do you really want a banshee to join the ranks of the unfaithful?”
“If you want Noah to join the team, by all means, bake her some cookies and roll out the welcome mat,” Adair said. “One mention of her precious father, and she’ll be too curious to say no. I’m just paving the way to make sure the answer she gives will be a no-brainer. There can be no distractions.”
“Those distractions will point her in the opposite direction,” Mags said. “I’ve seen it.”
“Your range is lacking,” Adair dismissed. “The only thing you can be sure of is tomorrow’s weather.”
I heard a strangled growl leak through the door. Silence followed, and the realization that Adair’s words had struck true left me stunned.
“I have work to do,” Adair said, a pair of footsteps walking further down the hall.
“You’re wrong, Adair,” Mags called down the hallway. Her voice shook with anger. “This is the beginning of the end.”
Thirty-Two
Mags stormed off shortly after, and I felt the reverberations of another private room’s thick door shut forcefully. I stuck my ear into a gap between the pulled-out books on the shelves to listen to the maple leaf room, Autumn. Muffled ambient noise echoed back, and I could tell someone was moving around. Apparently Mags and I were neighbors in more than one way.
Maybe it was because Adair was high on my shit list, but I felt a pang of sympathy for Mags. Being called out so bluntly for her lack of mastery on her Elevation by an alleged friend dug deeper than a passing comment from just about anyone else. I had clearly overestimated their friendship if Adair was so ready to toss Mags out as collateral damage in his misguided attempt to get to me.
My thumbnail pulled against the top line of my teeth as I unpacked the fight I’d just overheard.
As Evangeline had predicted, the recruitment game Mags was playing was not going well. I was intrigued they thought Adair could do a better job, but in the end, he would also fail miserably. If I hadn’t been resolved before, the past ten minutes had me locked in to my decision. I was not going to join the rank of puppets, Elevated or otherwise. Aileen and Mags both had it wrong.
I would always go my own way.
My pocket buzzed. The sudden noise caused me to jam my finger hard into my nose as it slipped from its worrying spot. I cursed as the stinging sensation caused my eyes to water.
The formidable banshee, ladies and gentlemen. Skilled at predicting death and punching herself in the face simultaneously.
Adele’s face popped up on my screen when I answered the video chat.
“Are you crying?” Adele asked, her face slack with shock.
“No,” I moaned miserably, wiggling my nose and checking my fingertips for any traces of blood.
“Why are you crying?” Adele asked. “I didn’t even know your tear ducts worked.”
“I cry all the time when I sing,” I said, rubbing the odd sensation from my nose. “Why are you calling?”
“I haven’t heard from you in a few days. Not a single complaint or SOS,” Adele said, waving her smart phone at me through her web cam. “I was taking bets on whether you were dead or kidnapped.”
“Oh, I’ve been kidnapped a few times,” I said, tucking my arms against my chest to prop up the phone more comfortably. “Got waterboarded. Not as relaxing as I anticipated.”
“Oh, well, that’s nice,” Adele said, tucking her feet beneath her on her stool. “Any friends join in on the fun with you?”
“It’s cute you think I have friends,” I said.
Adele stuck out her tongue, and I returned the sentiment.
“Based on the phone calls I’ve been getting from administration, I figured you had at least one. Well, two,” Adele said, pausing. Her grimace said it all.
“It wasn’t my fault,” I muttered quietly.
Adele sighed. “Anyway, everything’s been taken care of. Unless you’ve managed to commit another felony since the last phone call I got.” Adele’s head craned expectantly toward the screen.
“What happened to innocent until proven guilty?” I shifted my weight against the couch back to relieve my sleeping foot. “And last time I checked, being a witness was not cause for indictment.”
“How’s the court of public opinion?” Adele rested her head on her knee. “Do I have to make a call? I hear parents have a lot more clout in private schools.”
“You have to donate a lot a money if you want clout,” I said. “And the court of public opinion is as useless as ever. There was a boy who got into an accident last semester. He’d been in a coma and just woke up. Luckily, he’s drawn a lot of the attention from me.”
I blushed slightly, not wanting to tell Adele he might be back in the coma as we spoke. Evangeline had promised he would be fine, but I would feel solely responsible if he slipped back under after Adair’s visit.
“A boy?” Her eyes glinted with excitement.
“No,” I said sternly. “Not like that. Factually, he is a boy. The end.”
“Is one of the rumors that you’re a boyfriend stealer?” Adele asked, her back stiff in anticipation. “How much girl drama is there? Like, cable TV movie level?”
“You are way too excited that I could be embroiled in a love triangle with a formerly comatose football player and the head cheerleader,” I said dryly, my eyes sliding to the bookcase. I bit my lip. Could Mags hear my conversation through the wall?
“Is that what happened?” Adele squealed. “Let me get my popcorn. You need to start from the beginning.”
“Hey,” I said, dropping my voice. “I have to study. I’ll fill you in later.”
I winced slightly at the lie. It was my least favorite thing to do to Adele, but I didn’t want to worry her with the truth.
“We are continuing this conversation later.” Adele pointed her finger sternly at my screen. “You’re not getting off the hook that easily.”
“Oh, I know.” A smile died on my lips. “I’ll catch you up on everything soon. I promise.”
“All right, go be brilliant,” Adele said. “Have fun. Golden years and all that.”
“Yeah, okay,” I said, disconnecting the video chat. My face frowned back at me from the dim screen. I put my phone away, scowling at the time.
It had been too long since I’d heard from Evangeline. Errand or otherwise, the radio silence made me worry. She usually dropped in mentally after I thought about her. I wondered if it worked like someone calling out your name in real life.
Still nothing.
Evangeline didn’t have a cell phone. Without knowing exactly where she was, which was usually in the library anyway, I had no way of contacting her. Today was not a good day to go missing.
I stood upright from the couch, suddenly convinced something horrible had happened. I marched to the door, pausing only to listen if anyone was in the hall. No sound bounced back, so I reached for the doorknob.
My hand flared with pain, and I pulled it into my chest reflexively. Cradling it, I could see the pink where the heat had seared my hand. Glaring at the handle, I approached it slowly. My hand
hovered above the surface, but I couldn’t feel any heat. I tried again, and the same pain flared.
I let a stream of curses fall out of my mouth, trying to shake the stabbing sensation that lit up my hand.
The old wooden door was cool to the touch everywhere else. I tucked my ear to it, trying to hear if anyone was on the other side.
“Noah,” a voice said quietly on the other side. “Don’t say anything.”
I jumped in surprise. I had no peephole to see who it was, and the door muffled the voice just enough I couldn’t quite place its familiar timbre. I pressed my ear back to the door.
“Evangeline is in the infirmary,” the voice said. “She’s fine. You need to stay here. It’s not safe.”
My lips began to form a question, but the voice cut me off.
“Shush,” it said. “Just listen. She overexerted herself when she was trying to find someone at the end of her range. After a few days of rest, she’ll be back to normal. It would be better if you lie low until she’s back to one hundred percent. There’s no time to teach you how to shield against any Elevated cerebral attacks. You’re too vulnerable.”
The urge to protest rose up within me, but I chewed on my lip instead.
Then what was I supposed to do?
“I’ll make sure no one knows you’re here,” the voice said. “You’ll have to trust me.”
I waited for further instructions, but the voice was gone. The identity of the voice was on the tip of my tongue, and I growled in frustration that the name wasn’t coming to me.
Bracing myself, I tried the door again. It didn’t burn me, so I twisted it open a crack.
A dark form darted in, and the door shut itself against my will. I tried to pull it back open, but it was like trying to open a wall. A shadow fell across the ground, and I turned to see what the door had opened for.
There sat Ig, his green eyes hooded in bliss, hind leg high in the air as he cleaned himself peacefully in the center of the woven rug.