Sacrifices

by Mercedes Lackey

  Before tonight, Spirit had never been above the second floor, where the Library, the lounges, and the Faculty Dining Room were. The third floor was the teachers’ rooms, but despite the fact that they’d lost more than half the teachers since December, their Breakthrough replacements hadn’t moved in to take their places.

  Just as well, Spirit thought: if she or any of the others were caught up here, they’d really be in trouble. She breathed a sigh of relief when she reached the door at the back of the third floor—it looked like a closet—and ducked inside. It was dark and cold, and smelled of dust. She felt her way up the narrow wooden stairs by touch.

  “This way,” Loch whispered, when she reached the top.

  She glanced around curiously. Spirit didn’t know where the school maintenance staff lived (or had lived, before they’d mostly been replaced by Breakthrough thugs), but clearly it hadn’t been here. The warren of tiny rooms under the eaves of the house had been deserted for a very long time.

  There was a faint flickering glow coming from somewhere ahead, enough to light the narrow hallway. Candles, Spirit thought, and suddenly in her mind she was back in Stephen Wolferman’s kitchen, listening to him rave and ramble and say things that were almost true. She swallowed hard. He’d been harmless. She’d known that. But somehow she was more afraid now, remembering him, than she had been at the time. Why?

  When she reached the room, she saw it was barely bigger than the closet in her room downstairs. It was empty of furniture now, but there wouldn’t have been room for much more than a bed here anyway. It was lit by candles stuck in bowls of sand. Not jar candles—tapers. Loch must have burglarized the kitchen, or wherever all the stuff from the formal dinners had been stored.

  Guess it’s safe. I don’t think we’re going to be having another of those anytime soon.

  The others were already there. Even Muirin.

  “The meeting of the Oakhurst Escape Committee is now in session,” Muirin said sardonically. Despite herself, Spirit had to smile.

  “How’d you find this place, Loch?” Burke asked as Spirit seated herself beside him.

  “I’ve been spending my nights sneaking around the school seeing what I can find,” Loch said. “If anyone catches me, all I have to say is I’m practicing my Shadewalking and I bet that’d get me off the hook. Oakhurst expects excellence—remember, an Oakhurst graduate who is merely average is one who has failed,” he quoted in pompous tones.

  Muirin snorted appreciatively.

  “Couldn’t you have found somewhere warmer?” Addie asked, shivering.

  “This is the room farthest away from the rooms on the third floor that still have people in them,” Loch said. “I’m not sure how well sound travels between floors. Also—window.” He pointed.

  “At least we might see them coming,” Burke agreed.

  “And without electricity, we’re safe from the alien ninjas,” Spirit said. Burke squeezed her hand.

  “Yeah, okay, give,” Muirin said impatiently. “You said you didn’t get anything out of the guy—in which case, why am I here?”

  “What guy?” Addie asked, confused.

  Once upon a time, Spirit would have expected Muirin to pass on the information about her and Burke’s trip to Addie—or she would have been able to tell Addie about it herself. Their desperate attempts to keep from attracting the Shadow Knights’ attention were separating them almost as completely as the Shadow Knights themselves. Spirit glanced at Burke, but he didn’t look worried.

  “Spirit found one of the bikers who’d been using this place as a clubhouse before it was Oakhurst, and we went and talked to him last night,” Burke said.

  “You what?” Addie exclaimed. “Without telling the rest of us?”

  “I knew,” Muirin said smugly. “Too bad it didn’t do any good.”

  “I’m not completely sure about that,” Burke said. “Stephen Wolferman—that’s his name—was, um…”

  “A few sandwiches shy of a picnic?” Loch suggested, and Burke grimaced in agreement.

  “He was the only survivor of what the papers called the ‘Hellriders Massacre’—the Hellriders was the name of their biker gang. On July 31st, 1971, half the gang vanished and the other half died. I don’t know if he was crazy before he joined the Hellriders, or went crazy later, but yeah, like I said, he talked a lot about alien ninjas from the Shadow Dimension. But even so, I think we know how Mordred got out of the tree.”

  Muirin waved her hand impatiently.

  Spirit sat quietly, letting Burke tell the story. He told the others what he and she had guessed, based on what Wolfman had said—and on the photograph he’d showed them.

  “—and if Kenny Hawking isn’t Doctor A, I’ll eat that photo, frame and all,” he finished.

  Spirit had been waiting for some kind of blowup from Muirin at the discovery they hadn’t told her everything last night, but to her surprise it didn’t come. “So let me get this straight,” Muirin said. “We still don’t know where Mordred is. But we’ve found Merlin?”

  “He has to be, doesn’t he? It’s the only thing that explains Wolfman surviving the ‘massacre’ that night. He and Kenny were friends. Kenny has to have protected him, and only someone as powerful as Merlin could have stood up to Mordred. So Kenny must have been the Reincarnate of Merlin, and got Awakened, and protected Wolfman. Then I guess he must have run for it and hidden out for a while. Then he came back as Doctor A and started Oakhurst. He tried to get all the Round Table back together again.”

  “And ended up being held prisoner by the Shadow Knights,” Loch said. “Which would explain a lot of things about Oakhurst. You know, we’ve been assuming the Gatekeepers and the Shadow Knights are the same thing, because the only Gatekeepers we’ve seen have been Shadow Knights. But it’s possible they aren’t. Maybe the Shadow Knights infiltrated the Gatekeepers at some point. And maybe Merlin—Doctor Ambrosius—never knew. And now they have him, and they’ve turned him senile or something.”

  “But that still doesn’t tell us what Mordred wants,” Addie said. “If he wants to be King of England—or just get his revenge on Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table—he’s had almost forty years to do it. If Doctor Ambrosius can find every kid with magic, why can’t Mordred find the Reincarnates?”

  But he does—and he doesn’t just find them, Spirit thought. He kills their families—our families …

  “He probably has—and if you think I’ve forgotten that little Lizzie said Madison Lane-Rider was a Reincarnate and Anastus said I’m her sister, meaning I’m one too, think again,” Muirin said. “But you know, it’s a lot more fun to crushingly destroy everything the hero holds dear while he’s still around to cry about it, which would also explain why Mordred didn’t knock off Merlin when he got out of the tree. He’s waiting until he’s got everybody all together.”

  The others stared at her.

  “What?” Muirin said. “I’m just saying. You know, I can’t be the only one who’s read When I Am An Evil Overlord.”

  “In that case, we don’t have a thing to worry about,” Loch said blithely. “I haven’t seen a single five-year-old child acting as an advisor to anybody.”

  “You make it sound like Mordred’s here,” Spirit blurted out. “At Oakhurst.” Maybe Merlin doesn’t know about our families, what happened to them. Maybe he thinks it was just accidents … maybe it was Mordred finding out where we were first, and then he saved us.…

  The silence that followed her comment was very loud, and she wished she hadn’t said anything. But it was too late to take it back.

  “I have a confession to make,” Addie said after a moment. “Spirit, I never did apologize to you for thinking—for saying—you were being a drama queen about Oakhurst so you could be the person who solved the big problem. You weren’t. You were right. And I wish I’d listened to you. But … you have to understand. Because you were right, it also means we’re all in this way over our heads. Even if this were just a normal James Bond conspiracy—”r />
  Muirin snickered, and Addie made a rueful face at her own words.

  “—we know who some of the Shadow Knights are. Breakthrough is a huge and wealthy corporation. Anastus Ovcharenko isn’t just their head of security, he’s Bratva. And even if he weren’t, Breakthrough has people who’ve been using their magic for years, not just months. Even if we got proof tomorrow that Mordred is, oh, say, Mark Rider—what could we do about it? Nobody will believe us—and we sure can’t stop him ourselves. I’m just so tired of all of this,” she finished in a whisper. “We’re just kids. And we’re up against—what? An immortal evil sorcerer? I want to be somewhere else. Anywhere else.”

  “We can’t let them get away with what they’ve done,” Burke said implacably. “Not to mention what they’re going to do. There isn’t anyone else we can bring in. Who’d believe us? We might just lead the Shadow Knights straight to a bunch of people they’ll kill. It’s down to us.”

  “We should sit tight and wait,” Muirin said firmly. “This is the best place to hide. At least the Shadow Knights want us.”

  Muirin sounded as if she was trying to sell them on something, Spirit thought worriedly. What? Staying here and doing nothing until … whatever was going to happen, happened? Was it because Muirin thought that as one of the Reincarnates she’d be in a privileged position? Madison Lane-Rider was her Reincarnate-sister, and Madison was a Shadow Knight. Did that mean Muirin would become a Shadow Knight? Was she one already?

  “So who cares if they’re out to get Arthur’s Round Table?” Muirin went on. “You keep saying they’re evil, but isn’t that kind of relative? OK, they want to bump off Merlin and any Reincarnates on his side that show up, but that’s their feud, not ours. And we don’t really know what they want to do after that. Maybe what they want to do isn’t so bad. Maybe they’d be better at running things than Congress. Maybe all they want is to make video games. Maybe all that they want is England, and if that’s all, I say let them have it.”

  “Your Russian boyfriend killed my parents, Muirin,” Burke said, giving her a stony glare.

  “Yes,” Muirin said hastily. “And that was bad. Nobody says it wasn’t. But look. Be smart. If we can make ourselves more valuable to Mark and Madison than he is, they’ll turf him without a blink. You’ll get your revenge. Meanwhile, we stay safe.”

  A month ago—a week ago—Spirit would have said Burke didn’t want revenge, he wanted justice. She wished she was still sure of that. Seeing the way he’d attacked Ovcharenko had made her realize what he was capable of. It made her wonder if she knew him as well as she thought she did.

  “And what if we can’t … make ourselves more valuable,” Loch said slowly.

  “Then at least we don’t get turfed first,” Muirin said quickly.

  “But Muirin, Burke’s right. We can’t just assume that—aside from, oh, a few hundred murders—they’re going to leave everybody alone. They’re all magicians—and considering what they’ve already done just here, do you really want to let them … get away with whatever they’re planning?” Spirit finished awkwardly.

  “That’s the trouble,” Muirin answered. “We don’t know who did what. We don’t really know if Doctor A is the Merlin—or, you know, just some random Arthurian guy. We can’t even be sure Mark Rider is a bad guy—remember, we’re talking about people that lived in the Dark Ages, and they didn’t work by the same rules we do. All we know about Mordred is from Arthur’s gang. We don’t know…” She trailed off, as if struck by something. “Hey, Spirit, didn’t Lizzie say she wouldn’t recognize any of the bad guys if she hadn’t met them while she was Queen Guinevere?”

  “Yeah,” Spirit said. “But she was Yseult of Cornwall, not Guinevere. If she’d been Guinevere, she would have recognized everybody.”

  “Huh,” Loch said. “You’re right, Muirin. Good memory! And that tells us something we didn’t know—Mark Rider can’t possibly be Mordred.”

  Muirin beamed, and Spirit realized again how desperate Muirin was for affection. Desperate enough she’d even excuse Breakthrough’s crimes just because they were nice to her?

  She wished she knew.

  “Did I miss something?” Addie asked.

  “Elizabeth told Spirit she recognized Mark as one of Mordred’s Shadow Knights. Which means Mark is the Reincarnate of someone Yseult of Cornwall met. And Yseult never met Mordred. So Mark isn’t Mordred,” Loch said.

  Muirin made a face. “But he is a Shadow Knight. There goes my theory that he’s possibly not a bad guy.” She looked as if she had bitten something sour.

  “Too bad,” Burke said. “Maybe Merlin—”

  “No, wait,” Spirit said. “Guys. Why are we concentrating on Merlin?”

  “Well duh!” Muirin said. “He stuck Mordred in a tree! Hel-lo!”

  “But Merlin isn’t Mordred’s main enemy. King Arthur is. So where’s Arthur?” Spirit asked.

  “You mean who’s Arthur, right?” Loch said.

  “It’s like Where’s Waldo?, except now with added mortal peril,” Muirin sniped. Even Burke smiled at that.

  “You know,” Addie said thoughtfully, “we’re being offered courses in Norse Mythology, and Egyptian Mythology, and Greek and Roman Mythology, and Chinese Mythology…”

  “And Serbo-Croatian Mythology and Finnish Mythology and it’s not just a class, it’s a mythadventure,” Muirin said. “Your point?”

  “My point is, the Arthurian Mythos is pretty big. So why aren’t we getting it?” Addie said, frowning. “We get Celtic Mythology, yes. But that isn’t the same thing.”

  “Grail, grail, the gang’s all here,” Loch said. The others winced at the pun. “It makes sense if we’re living it, though.”

  “That’s my point,” Addie said. “We aren’t being taught it because we’d find out something they don’t want us to know.”

  “But everybody already knows it, don’t they?” Burke says hesitantly.

  “No,” Spirit said decisively. “It’s huge. My—” She swallowed hard and went on. “My sister was really into it. The stuff in the movies and on TV? That’s just a tiny piece of one of the stories. Since we were homeschooled Mom even got Fee college books about it. People have been writing about Arthur and Camelot and the Round Table and … everything … for more than a thousand years.”

  “So which one’s the true story?” Burke asked.

  Spirit shrugged. “All of them. None of them. I don’t know.”

  “The real question is: how much of it do you know?” Addie asked.

  “Not enough,” Spirit admitted sadly. “I always thought it was silly.” Oh Fee, I’m so sorry for all the times I teased you!

  “Silly or not,” Burke said, “we need to know more than we do. Muirin’s right. We don’t know who did what. And we need to.”

  “Anybody want to bet that one-horse library down in Ice Station Radial’s got a couple of books on the subject?” Muirin asked.

  “Maybe,” Loch says thoughtfully. “Don’t you have Dance Committee on Wednesday, Spirit?”

  Spirit groaned. “Oh god, don’t remind me. Maddie and Zoey tried to kill each other at lunch today. And if Maddie isn’t being ditzy and Dylan isn’t trying to start trouble, Chris is bending over backwards to be helpful—which comes across as patronizing—and Juliette Weber patronizes him right back, and she can barely get a sentence out before Bella and Veronica are falling all over themselves to say ‘Oh my god, you are so right, Juliette,’ and—”

  Burke chuckled. “Welcome to high school.”

  Despite everything, Spirit found herself smiling back. “Yeah. That’s it exactly.”

  “Well maybe you could see what the town libe has,” Loch said, resolutely ignoring the byplay.

  “Nuh-uh,” Muirin said. “She’d have to steal the books. And when we’re talking about stealing library books, that’s a job for … Super-Muirin!”

  “Isn’t that a bit below your pay grade?” Loch teased gently. Muirin stuck her tongue out at him.

  �
�And once we’ve done the research, we decide whether we’ve got any chance at all of stopping Breakthrough and Mordred ourselves—or even of finding out what they actually want to do,” Addie said, firmly dragging the discussion back on track. “I still say we should try to find someone who can help. I’m not denying Breakthrough is big, and the Shadow Knights scare me to death. But you know … Breakthrough is just a computer game company. Prester-Lake BioCo could buy it out of small change. And I’m Prester-Lake. You guys keep forgetting—maybe we’re kids, but a couple of us are important kids, or at least, we’re the heirs to important stuff. At the very least, I can get my trustees to investigate Oakhurst.”

  “If you can get to them without going on the run,” Loch said. “Remember, once we run, we become runaways, and everyone knows bad things happen to runaways. Nobody would ever suspect Breakthrough if you ran and you … vanished.”

  This hasn’t solved anything! Spirit thought wildly, as the others chattered excitedly. We were supposed to come up with a plan tonight, think of something to do now that we know who Merlin is! Instead, everybody’s talking about stealing library books, and Addie still wants to get somebody from outside to help, and …

  … And we think Doctor Ambrosius is Merlin. But what if Murr is right and Merlin isn’t actually the good guy?

  Suddenly the thing that had bothered her ever since they’d visited Wolfman came clear in her mind.

  Wolfman was there when Mordred got out of the tree. Mordred had to have seen him. Why didn’t he kill him—or take him over? We assumed his friend Kenny—who is now Doctor Ambrosius—protected him, but if he did, why is Wolfman so crazy now? Why didn’t Kenny help Wolfman later—when he came back and founded Oakhurst? Why didn’t he bring Wolfman to Oakhurst when he put the school together?