Spirit Prophecy

by E. E. Holmes

“Good morning,” Siobhán said, her hands raised in a welcoming gesture.

  “Good morning,” we all responded automatically.

  “Welcome to your first day of classes here at Fairhaven Hall, and to your very first lesson, which is Ceremonial Basics. In this class, you will learn the routine and ritual that will guide your interactions with the Gateway and the spirits you encounter. Let me begin by clarifying a misconception.” She swept a long strand of dark hair from her cheek and leaned back upon her desk. “This is not a class in magic. Magic, as the world would envision it, does not exist. We do not cast spells, and we do not brew potions. We do not wave wands or deal in witchcraft. The world sees these things as strange and unnatural. We do, however, seek to effect change and harness some measure of control over our interactions with the ebb and flow of the cycle of life and death in this world, and nothing could be more natural than this.”

  Here she stopped, surveying us all with a piercing gaze from her pale blue eyes, ensuring our complete concentration before continuing. Even Savannah had stopped winding her chewing gum around her pinkie finger and was staring at Siobhán, her mouth slightly open.

  “We deal with the natural order of things, and to do this, we need to harness power that exists in the natural cycle of life. The Durupinen have had this duty entrusted to us. It is not magic, and it is not witchcraft. It is merely knowledge that others do not possess.”

  She walked over to the nearest bookcase and ran a hand delicately across a row of spines. “Words have immense power. No learned person would ever dare deny this. Words can evoke the most powerful emotional reactions or calm them into submission. They can incite the world to action or bind it together in common empathy. All of this can be accomplished by the right combination of words. The words of our rituals and ceremonies are no different, but we are the precious few who know how to wield them.

  “And who would be foolish enough to deny the power of actions? Any human that walks the earth could, through the right combination of actions, ignite a war, build a cathedral, or end a life. The rituals of the Durupinen are just such actions, but they are ours alone to learn and pass along, and their immense power is ours to protect. I know that you will therefore treat the content of this class with the reverence it deserves, and give it your fullest and most attentive efforts.”

  Siobhán turned smartly and sat behind her desk. I looked around me. Hannah’s hands were splayed upon the desktop, her fingers tensed as though over the keys of a piano. Savannah appeared very uncomfortable, and she caught my eye with a look that clearly said, “What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?” I couldn’t help but share in a bit of her alarm. Based on that speech, missing a homework assignment in this class would be akin to disrupting the natural order of the universe. I suddenly thought of Tia; she would have an aneurysm over this kind of academic pressure.

  I turned to see Mackie smirking at me. She’d obviously heard all of this before, living with a Council member, and was merely enjoying the reactions of the newcomers.

  “This is one of two classes this term,” Siobhán continued, “in which the Apprentices and Caomhnóir Novitiates will share a classroom, so it falls to me to lay the ground rules for your interactions with each other.”

  Several people shifted uncomfortably. A few surreptitious glances floated across the aisle, which had suddenly seemed to have become a gaping chasm.

  “Caomhnóir and Durupinen have long had a very important and sacred relationship. The Durupinen are the keepers of the doors between our world, and the world beyond. It is the job of the Caomhnóir to protect us as we carry out our duty to the Gateways. Throughout our history, the Durupinen have been discovered and persecuted. There are those who would expose our secrets to the world, would seek to destroy the balance of the system. The Caomhnóir are sworn to stand between us and these dangers, to lay down their lives, if necessary, in the defense of the Gateways. Many have done just that, and we honor them.”

  Heads bowed as though in prayer all around me, but I felt like I was in the middle of some bizarre dream I couldn’t wake up from, a fear flooding through me like rising water. Was it really likely that one of these boys sitting across the aisle from me would have to sacrifice himself to protect me? From what? From whom?

  “It is crucial,” Siobhán went on, oblivious to my silently mounting panic attack, “that this relationship is never tainted or abused in any way. The abilities of the Durupinen and the Caomhnóir must remain in harmonious but separate balance. This means that romantic relationships are expressly forbidden. I cannot impress upon you enough how important it is to preserve the inviolability of this system. The Sanctity Line, which divides you in this classroom, is symbolic. You will of course need to speak with one another, and to work together in close proximity. But the Line is there to remind us of the limits set upon our interactions, limits that I expect you all to heed with the greatest of reverence.”

  Her words fell like a frost over the room. No one spoke, though Savannah looked like she had a few choice words she’d like to let loose if she’d had the nerve.

  Siobhán accepted our silence as assent and continued. “Very soon, each Gateway will be assigned a Caomhnóir, who will be pledged to its protection. These assignments will be permanent, until such time as the next generation of the Gateway is initiated. You will continue to work throughout the school year to develop a cordial and functional working relationship built on mutual trust. All of that begins with study, and so, trusting that you will all heed my words and abide by them, I will hand out your textbooks.”

  I shook my head to clear it. The idea that a speech like that could conclude with something as mundane as the handing out of textbooks seemed inherently wrong. I looked over at Hannah, who seemed to be taking it all in stride, and I was struck by how much better she was accepting the magnitude of all of this than I was. Then again, she’d been submerged in this alternate reality for her entire life, whereas I had only forced myself to accept its existence a few months ago.

  I took a deep steadying breath, blew it out slowly, and then reached my hand out for the textbook that Mackie was handing back to me. It was bound in some kind of animal skin and looked as though it should be kept in a glass case in a university library archive and only handled while wearing gloves. As I turned it over in my hands I caught Mackie’s eye. She was smiling as though she knew exactly what I was thinking and was thoroughly entertained by it.

  “Am I amusing you?” I asked.

  “Immensely.”

  “Glad to hear it,” I said, carefully placing a book onto Savannah’s desk. She looked at it like she had never seen such a thing before and proceeded to ignore it wholeheartedly.

  “Talk about culture shock, right?” Mackie said. “On a scale of one to ten, how ready are you to hop a plane back to the States?”

  “Seventeen.”

  “Look, it sounds crazy. But you’d be surprised how quickly it all starts to feel normal. First day speeches are always meant to sound impressive. They figure the more important they can make it all sound, the better students we’ll be.”

  “Obviously haven’t met me before then, have they?” Savannah said, fluttering her lashes innocently.

  “My point is, the biggest hurdle is already passed for you, hasn’t it?” Mackie said.

  Hannah looked up from her book in mild surprise. “How do you mean?” she asked.

  “You’ve already done a Crossing, haven’t you?” Mackie asked.

  She raised her voice a bit, and I saw several heads turn to listen.

  “Yeah,” I said, feeling the spotlight of unwanted attention glaring in my face. “How did you know that?”

  “Celeste told us. She said the spirit activity was so intense that you had to get special permission to perform it before you were properly initiated, just to protect yourselves.”

  Brenna was leaning on her hand, looking eagerly at us. More heads turned. Was staring openly at people only considered rude in America?
/>   “That’s right,” I said.

  “Well, there you go,” Mackie said, clapping her hands. “None of us has ever performed a Crossing before. You’re several steps ahead of everyone else in this room.”

  A few of the surrounding faces looked impressed in spite of themselves, which I’m sure was Mackie’s intention. But it didn’t last, of course.

  “Oh, Mackie, that’s really not fair,” Peyton chimed in from a few rows ahead, her expression politely incredulous.

  Mackie turned to face her. “What’s not fair?”

  “Several steps ahead of everyone else? Really? Are we meant to be awed by this vast wealth of experience?” Peyton laughed delicately and turned instead to me. “Look, I know Mackie’s trying to make you both feel better, sweet thing that she is, but I think it’s really much kinder to let you know exactly where you stand.”

  Awesome. Here we go. Junior high cattiness rears its ugly head.

  “And where’s that?” I asked, feigning polite interest.

  “As far outside of this inner circle as you can possibly be,” Peyton said, gesturing around her. Here and there, a smug face nodded in agreement. “We’ve all been groomed for this training since birth. We’ve grown up learning about our history and respecting our traditions. I wouldn’t want you to get a false sense of security about fitting in here just because you stumbled your way through one barely-sanctioned ceremony.”

  Mackie glanced over to find Siobhán, but she was occupied with handing out books to the Novitiates on the other side of the room. “Peyton, give it a rest, okay?”

  But I held up a hand to silence her. I’d had enough of the mean girls routine. “No, no, please go on,” I said. “You’ve obviously got quite a bit you’d like to say to us, and to be honest, I’d rather you got it over with. I’m not really one for bullshit pretense and snide back-handed comments, so by all means, say your piece.”

  Savannah snorted appreciatively.

  Peyton’s smirk vanished. “Blunt, aren’t you? How very American. Very well, if you insist. Your family might have been important here once, but those days are long gone. And whatever a few riffraff might have told you to calm your nerves and help you feel at home, you should know that they’re just pitying you. The truth is that we don’t forgive or forget very easily around here. There are some stains that don’t wash away. We all know what absolute disgrace your family wallows in now, and we don’t intend to let you forget it.”

  I smiled brightly. “Excellent,” I said. “Glad we had this little chat. I don’t know how we’d ever remember all those pesky details about how we got here if you didn’t feel the need to constantly remind us. We’re just so forgetful, aren’t we Hannah?”

  “Very forgetful,” Hannah said, her voice quavering a bit, but her expression determined.

  “Oh, we’ll be pleased to remind you as often as necessary,” Peyton said. Behind her, three or four girls laughed.

  “Shut up, Peyton.”

  We all turned in surprise. Across the aisle, slumped low in his seat, one of the Novitiates was scowling at Peyton. He had long, dark hair that hid most of his face, but what I could see of it was hard and angular.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I said shut up. Leave them alone.”

  “And why should I do that?”

  The boy clenched his wide, square jaw and hesitated. Judging by his expression, he regretted entering into the conversation in the first place, like he’d done it without thinking. “Because you don’t own this place, and they’re just here to learn like the rest of us. So just…let them get on with it, then.”

  Peyton raised an eyebrow. “Getting carried away a bit, aren’t you, Finn? I mean, I know you’re meant to swear an oath of protection to the Durupinen, but you needn’t take it so literally, especially with clan traitors like them. Where’s your family pride?”

  “I guess I left it at home, much like your sense of common courtesy,” Finn replied, no longer looking at us.

  “What’s happening over here? Not arguing, I hope?” Siobhán said, finally noticing the exchange and pouncing upon it. No one answered her.

  We spent the remaining hour slogging through a very long syllabus detailing exactly what we would be covering during the semester. I might not have been at St. Matt’s anymore, but my workload was still going to be impressive.

  “At the end of the class, you will all be reporting to your mentor meetings,” Siobhán said. “Details about who your mentors will be and where you are to meet with them are in the folders you received this morning. I will be happy to answer any questions I can before you go. Hannah?”

  Hannah, who had been rummaging in her tattered old backpack for her folder, looked up in alarm.

  “You have been assigned to me for mentorship,” Siobhán said, smiling encouragingly. “Our meeting will be taking place here, so you needn’t pack up your things.”

  Hannah nodded without saying anything, and placed her bag back down on the floor.

  I pulled out my own folder and found the mentor information.

  “Where are you headed?” Brenna asked me.

  “The fourth floor of the East Tower, to meet with Fiona Cassidy. I have no idea how to get there. Savannah, where are you going?”

  Savannah started out of a daydream. “Sorry?”

  “Where are you going next?”

  “Dunno,” she said, and went back to staring out the window.

  A cacophonous ringing of bells marked the end of the period while simultaneously scaring the living daylights out of me. I stood up and slung my messenger bag over my shoulder. It was much heavier than I had realized, with the addition of the new textbook, and I overbalanced. I stumbled and fell right into the boy across the aisle as he rose from his own seat.

  “Ouch, sorry about that.”

  He helped me to right myself again, but pulled his hands away at once and shoved them into his pockets, like I had somehow burned or contaminated them.

  “Watch where you’re going,” he spat, and stalked down the aisle and out the door, elbowing past several of his fellow Novitiates in the process.

  6

  ARTISTIC TEMPERAMENTS

  I STARED AFTER HIM. “What the hell is his problem?” I said, more to myself than to anyone else. Mackie followed my gaze and said,

  “That’s Finn Carey,” as though that explained everything.

  “Wasn’t he just telling Peyton to leave us alone?”

  “Yeah, but that was probably just because he can’t stand her. They’re cousins; his sister Olivia is the other half of Peyton’s Gateway. That’s her, walking out with Peyton,” she said, and she pointed out a sharp-faced brunette who was clutching her books to the front of a conservative pink wool cardigan.

  “You mean he and Peyton are actually related to each other?” I asked.

  “Yeah, most of the Caomhnóir are related to one branch of the Durupinen or another somehow. I’ll explain it on the way to the East Tower. I’m heading that way anyway, and it will probably take you until next Tuesday to find it by yourself.”

  “Okay, thanks,” I said. I turned back to Hannah. “So, I guess I’ll see you in a little while?”

  “Yeah.” She looked so tiny and lost in the now empty section of seats. The room seemed to swallow her up.

  “Are you going to be okay?”

  “Yes,” she said without conviction.

  “She’ll be fine,” Siobhán said, walking down the aisle and sitting on the desk in front of Hannah’s. “We’ll have a nice chat together.”

  “Right,” I said, grateful that Siobhán, at least, seemed unfazed by our status as resident pariahs. “Thanks. I’ll meet you at lunch?”

  Hannah nodded again, and I followed Mackie out of the room. As we turned into the hallway, I caught Savannah’s voice saying, “Folder? What are you on about? I never got a folder!”

  “She’s pretty shy, huh? Your sister?” Mackie asked, cocking her head back over her shoulder. “Yeah,” I said. “She’s ha
sn’t had a very easy time of it, so she doesn’t trust a lot of people.”

  “She’ll be alright with Siobhán. I think your aunt requested her specifically, because she’s not … y’know … “

  “A total bitch?” I supplied. Mackie grinned. “Something like that, yeah.”

  “What are these mentor meetings for anyway? Is it just to have someone to talk to, like an advisor?” I asked.

  “For the most part, yes,” Mackie said. “The mentors are randomly assigned just so that we’ll have someone we can go to if we need advice or help, that sort of thing. But in certain cases, the assignment isn’t random at all. Some of the Apprentices have demonstrated special abilities that need to be explored, so they get paired up with a mentor that has a similar gift.”

  “What kind of special abilities?” I asked. “Shit, we see ghosts! Isn’t that special enough?”

  Mackie let out a bark of laughter. “It usually has to do with the way we sense the ghosts. Like me, for instance — I’m an Empath. When a ghost is near me, I start to experience their emotions really intensely. We all do it, to a lesser degree, but for me it’s really pronounced. My own mood and emotions will start to change as the first sign that a ghost is trying to make contact. I used to burst out screaming or crying for no apparent reason when I was a kid. That was how my mum first knew I’d inherited the gift.”

  “Doesn’t that sort of…mess you up? It can’t be easy, getting flooded with negative emotions that aren’t even yours.”

  “Yeah, it was pretty scary at first. I’d be playing in the garden, having a grand old time, and suddenly I’d be running and screaming, hiding behind the shed. But I’ve learned to sort it out, you know, recognize when the emotion isn’t mine. I’m still working on it, though, so I’ve been paired up with the language teacher, Agnes, because she’s a pretty powerful Empath herself. I’m hoping she can help me minimize the effect of spirit emotions.”

  “Huh. What about your sister? Does she have any extra abilities?”

  “Nope. At least nothing that stands out right now. It is possible something will still manifest. She’s a year younger than me, and she’s only just been getting Visitations within the last year.”