Kaleb picked out a sharper knife. “Romey told me this morning that he’s been cooperative. But that’s all. I think she’s missed him more than we have.”
“Weird,” Gabe said, “He’s been nothing but a pain since he got here.”
“What would a mother hen do without anyone to mother?”
The air around Jonas began to crackle softly. “Are you okay?” Alex whispered, but Jonas didn’t look at her.
“So, have they fixed the numbering on the classrooms yet?” he asked the group.
Kaleb groaned. “You know, that’s what they get for making every single door in every single hallway of the learning center look exactly the same. I’ve gotten so used to walking into the classroom for sociology that I should just take the aptitude assessment and get the credit for it.”
Gabe grinned. “I’ll do your homework for a week if you pass it.”
Kaleb twirled his knife through his fingers, considering the trade.
“At least the numbering prank was funny,” Gabe said. “The fountain and the lure birds? Not so much.”
“Don’t forget the furniture on the roof,” Kaleb added. “That one was pretty good. Oh, and the Bonds tied up in the broom closet.”
“I guarantee the broom closet was no prank. That was just a typical afternoon for the Bonds.” Gabe looked at his brothers meaningfully. “By the way, I heard another newbury blaming us the other day at the ball fields.”
Kaleb shook his head. “Whatever. They can’t prove anything.”
Alex picked the pumpkin guts from her fingers. “Blaming you for the pranks? Why?”
“Because for one, the pranks started right after we arrived here,” Kaleb answered. “For two, Chase was running around campus acting a fool and being as inconspicuous as the Hamburglar. For three, we haven’t been the targets of any of the pranks. That just looks incriminating.” He lowered his voice. “I heard why everyone was freaking out about the fountain on the day Alex arrived. It was contaminated with copper. If it had filtered into the air while we were all sleeping, everyone would have woken up completely stoned.”
“Doesn’t sound so bad.” Jonas stabbed his knife into the pumpkin repeatedly. He twisted and turned the blade until finally, grinning, he spun around the pumpkin to show Alex the carving of his name.
“That’s like sniffing household products, moron. It could have killed our minds, depending on how much was used.”
That quieted Jonas.
“Where would someone get copper? The only person in the school who might have a stash of it would be Professor Duvall.”
“Somehow I doubt her guilt,” Gabe said. “Although, Jack, Calla, and Reuben do live in Brigitta.”
Professor Duvall continued to openly ridicule the trio for any shortcomings they exhibited in class. She had a difficult time with Jack, however. He never missed an answer and never let her treatment faze him.
Kaleb held the tip of his knife to his mouth in thought. “What about the Darwins? Do you think they might have had access to the minerals? They spend an awful lot of time with Duvall.”
Alex peeked over her pumpkin. Skye Gossamer was sitting with the Darwins, attracting stares from the adjoining table of boys. She was like a rose among their sharp, thorny exteriors. Tess’s arms were crossed in defiance; apparently she shared Jonas’s views on involuntary labor. Linton Darwin, on the other hand, had crawled off the bench to kneel on the table in order to carve his jack-o-lantern at the right angle. Xavier Darwin, the oldest, pretended to stab himself in the stomach with his knife until he noticed Alex and the Lasalles staring in his direction, and then he sent his pumpkin flying across the room to land with a sickening splat against the wall behind Alex’s head.
Gabe flicked a seed from his shoulder. “Maybe Duvall knows something we don’t.”
The groan of heavy doors interrupted the happy chatter in the Hall. The Bonds entered the room, shuffling quickly down the aisles, Calla with her chin down and Jack with his held high.
“Speak of the devils,” Kaleb coughed.
The Bonds held their hands behind their backs like inmates entering a prison. Linton began flicking seeds in their direction. Xavier looked sour. He was probably upset he’d already wasted his pumpkin on the Lasalles.
“They should have just walked through the doors without opening them. That would have drawn less attention.”
Everyone in the hall, even the chokers, seemed to be sliding down the benches, suddenly needing more space than before. Alex could swear she even saw the arched lamps leaning closer to the tables, shrinking away from the duo. She made a point to wave them over, despite Jonas’s objections through gritted teeth.
The Bonds took a seat next to Alex, and Kaleb shook his head in astonishment. For a moment, she worried he would jump on the ridicule bandwagon, but Kaleb seldom allowed others to steer his course. He set down his knife and rested his elbows on the table. “How did you two get away with showing up an hour late for Grandiuse?”
“It wasn’t by choice,” Calla replied in a soft tone of embarrassment. She moved over to make room for Reuben, who had barreled over to the table, leaving behind a trail of pumpkin innards and desperation.
“I wonder which closet they were locked inside this time,” Jonas said quietly to Alex.
Jack, ignoring his usual withering effect on the world, rubbed his freckled hands together. “I love carving pumpkins!”
Kaleb handed him a knife. “Here. You sure do know how to catch a crowd’s attention.” His tone was almost admiring. “Where were you guys?”
Alex cringed, hesitant to hear their response.
“We had to clean up a bit of graffiti.”
Jonas bent forward to see them better. “You vandalized something?”
Jack didn’t look up at them. “No. We just volunteered to clean it up.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because the words were mean,” Calla replied. “And they were about us.”
Alex felt the pang of pity. Written words were so much harsher than spoken. Ink had the power to marker one's esteem. In the ninth grade, someone had tagged her locker with the word slut. Just because she was friends with the boys. She could still picture the thick, red lettering, and how the tail of the S swiveled across the adjoining lockers. She’d never seen Chase so angry. He was there to save her then, but who did the Bonds have to save them? “We would have helped you wash it off.”
Jack shrugged carelessly. “Probably another prank.”
“We were just talking about the pranks. But what’s the big deal? Why is the city so concerned about a bunch of jokes?”
“Rules here aren’t broken,” Jack explained.
“Hence Chase’s removal,” Gabe said to Alex. “If rules are broken inside the city, rules can be broken outside the city. And that’s dangerous. It really isn’t tolerated at all. This world is successful due to order. They say carve pumpkins, we ask how many. They say yell boo, and we ask how loud.”
“The pranks are being viewed as a form of protest,” Jack added. “That’s why they are being taken so seriously. They want to know who might be objecting to how things are run around here.”
An irritable voice interrupted their conversation. “Silence, please!” Professor Van Hanlin stepped forward and lifted his hands. A gust of arctic air blew through the room. “Time is up!”
Jack stuck out his lower lip in disappointment.
“I’ve got this,” Madame Paleo said, practically shoving Van Hanlin off the stage. When she smiled, her nose took up her entire face. “Movers! Please remove the pumpkins from the tables. You’ll find space for them up front.”
Jack and Calla stood up with a half dozen other newburies, and the Hall became silent except for the whishing of jack-o-lanterns racing to the front of the Grandiuse. They hovered outside a door adjacent to the stage where Madame Paleo stood, directing their paths like an air traffic controller.
Alex couldn’t contain her astonishment. “How do they do
that?”
Jonas smirked. “Says the girl who demolished cement. It isn’t magic, just brainpower. You transferred energy, probably from fear, but who cares? Telekinetics is just pushing your own energy into some other object.”
Gabe picked up his pencil and dropped it, frowning. “Yeah, I’m definitely not talented enough yet to move anything. I can close my eyes and see it in my head, but I don’t think I believe it enough to make it happen.”
“Those of you standing,” Paleo continued, “please head outside to practice telekinetics. If a guest at the haunted house doesn’t seem terrified enough, I’ve found that objects flying across the room seemingly of their own accord will usually do the trick.”
“Sweet.” Jonas sat up straighter. “They’re giving us the haunted house assignments.”
Gabe held out his pencil again, staring at it intently. When he let go, it fell to the table. “Jack, I didn’t realize you knew telekinetics.”
Jack nodded, took Calla’s hand, and walked off with a faint glint of smugness in his eyes, while the Darwins booed loudly from the legacy table. Alex glared at them and caught Linton flicking more pumpkin seeds, which bounced off of Jack’s head like misguided raindrops. Her adrenaline tweaked in anger and began to cartwheel in violent circles within her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut to escape her dizziness, but it only made it worse. She shook her head and pictured herself pulling away from the friction, and thankfully it released.
The room filled with gasps, and Alex opened her eyes to find Linton’s bench flipped over and his feet up above his head. Every spirit with the misfortune of sitting near him had also tumbled backwards. Alex’s head pounded.
Had she done that? She could barely hear Jonas over the sound of gongs crashing in her head.
“I wonder why they didn’t pick you to go with the movers.”
“Huh?” she asked, massaging her temples distractedly.
Jonas pointed to the front of the room where Jack was exiting.
“How come Jack and Calla aren’t a part of that little clique, then?”
Jonas snickered. “Have you met the Bonds? Jack isn’t exactly the class president.” He paused, watching Alex. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” The pressure in her head became a dull ache. She glanced at Linton guiltily.
Van Hanlin narrowed his eyes and the lights brightened around him. “Enough foolishness. Please listen carefully for your name and direct yourself to the appropriate mentor.”
Madame Paleo stepped in front of him again. She had a pencil behind one ear and a director’s clapboard in her hand. She beamed importantly. “For those students on my list, please remain here in the Hall and migrate to the back of the room. We will be using the stage to reenact murder scenes from history, which will be performed throughout various rooms in the house while the guests venture through.”
Kaleb was the only familiar name to be called.
Alex waited while the professors announced several more groups. Gabe left with the newburies who would train to be “stalkers.” It was difficult to imagine sweet Gabe pursuing guests and pretending to be an axe murderer. By the time Van Hanlin took the stage again, only a handful of students remained, Alex and Jonas included. He led them outside, where he sliced the air with this arm, dividing the group in half. He was quiet for a moment, assessing his students. His eyes came to a rest on Alex and lingered there.
“Each year we have to shake things up a bit,” he began. “Perhaps the scariest aspect of the house this season is actually outside of the mansion, because the guests are going to think they’re lost. They will be chased through the woods, where we will be guiding them through a predetermined course.”
Skye raised her hand. “What will we be hunting them with?”
“Weapons.”
“That’s nothing new, is it?”
“The chase? No. The difference this year is that invisible spirits will track them as well, filling their heads with whispers. You will use voice boxes,” said Van Hanlin, holding up a small device. “They operate with the use of Voix stones. I want the whispers to come from all around them: left, right, above, below. That should scare them all the more. If a guest strays, use the voice box to get them back on track.”
“How do we know they’ll listen to us?” Jonas asked.
Alex pictured herself floating after some kid running in the wrong direction with his arms flailing above his head. That would be just her luck.
“When a human is scared, it is in their nature to scream, tense up, blink, and even skip a heartbeat. You will use that split second to redirect them.”
“Are you sure they’ll listen?” Reuben asked, eying the trees.
“Yeah,” Joey Rellingsworth agreed. “Because they could end up so lost.”
“They will pause,” Van Hanlin replied with certainty. “The human brain can only withstand a certain number of commands at once. When frightened, the mind tries to refresh itself when it overloads. You are going to command it instead, and your memorization of the routes will make the operation foolproof.”
There were a few nervous murmurs throughout the group.
“I’ll be supervising,” Van Hanlin said pompously. “Nothing will go wrong.”
Chase worried how long they were going to detain him. If it was a month ago, even a year ago, he wouldn’t have cared whether he was detained at the Dual Towers, or stuck in some workshop at Brigitta, or truly dead. It didn’t matter where he was. He wouldn’t feel whole if he was separated from Alex.
It was so strange. She was there in his head. He could sense her. He could feel her now. He felt her anxiety when she first arrived in Eidolon. He felt fear several minutes later. And he felt a burst of happiness soon after, and he wondered which of his brothers had warranted such a reaction.
He knew his newfound talent had resulted in his confinement. When he looked at someone, he could see their desires, their grief, and their passions. Whatever happened to be flowing through them at the time, he could see the color of it.
He should have kept his mouth shut, but when Ellington arrived, and Chase asked him why he was surrounded by flashes of pale yellow light, the cat was out of the bag. And the spirits keeping him here were trying to tame his gift.
They treated him well, pampering him if anything, but they studied him, used him, and forced him to accompany them during interviews. At least, they called them interviews. Chase figured they were more like interrogations.
It interested him how one question could cause a spark of new light. He couldn’t hear the questions. He could only see the reactions. From muddy blue to metallic gold, Chase would transcribe what he saw. He wasn’t quite sure what every variation meant, but he was beginning to learn. Ellington, who continued to visit Chase for his regularly scheduled therapy sessions, claimed this was a good thing. According to him, it took some spirits years to figure out how they might fit into this world.
Chase already knew his purpose, however. The only light he was interested in seeing was Alex’s. He had an advantage now. The moment he was close enough, he’d been able to see her true colors. He’d finally know how she felt about him. Her heart would no longer be closed off.
That was the only place he truly wanted to fit.
***
Van Hanlin had mapped out the routes in the haunted house woods so well that by the time they finally visited the mansion, Alex and her group needed less than an hour to memorize the miles of trails. Van Hanlin strutted around the campus, boasting pretentiously about his leadership and efficiency until finally Paleo intervened. She irritably suggested he put himself to use and disperse his newburies to assist the other professors.
Alex was sent to the kitchen, where Professor Duvall stood stirring a thick, red substance in a black pot. It smelled wretched, and Duvall gave Alex the creeps, so she turned on her heel to escape. Before she could scamper away, Jack’s voice came from the corner of the room. “Alex, hey! Where are you going?”
Alex cringed. Hadn
’t he realized she was ducking out? Why would he yell her name?
Professor Duvall whipped around. The cooking spoon in her hand splattered red goo across the cabinet. “Whoops,” she sang, zeroing in on Jack with a grimace. “Bond, why are you loitering in the doorway?”
He shrugged. “The movers wandered off somewhere.”
Alex doubted it was a coincidence that he’d been left behind.
“Well,” huffed Duvall, “go help set up the Porta-Potties on the front lawn. They were delivered last week, but they’re arranged too close to the road.”
“Porta-Potties?” Alex interrupted. “What do we need those for?”
“They aren’t for us. Patrons are encouraged to relieve themselves before entering the house. In the past, many have lost their ability to function because of their fright.”
“Ew.” Alex wrinkled her nose.
“Bond, Porta-Potties! Go!”
“Fine,” Jack grumbled and exited the room.
Professor Duvall muttered something about where he belonged, and then her attention traveled to Alex, and she seemed to shudder a little, though a smile spread across her face. “My dear Alex, follow me.”
She led Alex down a hallway and through a set of sliding doors, where she paused and held out a small paint roller, brush, and tray covered with what looked like yellowy mucus. “I cannot decipher what it is about you to make your presence so electrifying. Maybe it’s your appearance.”
“My appearance?” Alex asked, coming through the sliding doors and entering a ballroom that might once have been stunning. Windows stretched from the floor to a ceiling littered with chandeliers, like a field of butterfly cocoons. Spiderweb cracks speckled the glass, casting jagged shadows along the chipped paint of the walls. A crippled grand piano with a protective coat of dust cowered alone in a corner. Alex sidestepped around the blotches and rusty brown stains on the floor, hoping it wasn’t blood.
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