Spirit Prophecy (The Gateway Trilogy Book 2) (10 page)

“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.

“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.”