Voice of the Undead (11 page)

Chapter 15

Alex stared in shock. “Holy—what the heck was that?” He looked at the windows and the papers still settling around the room. “Oh my God,
who are you
?”

The being that surely did look like his mother rolled her eyes, adjusting her wrap. “Alex, settle down, I'm your mother.”

“Oh, no!” Alex exclaimed. “No, no,
Mom
, I've known you my whole life and you've never slammed a door with your
mind
, and we slam a
lot
of doors.”

“I didn't slam it with my mind,” she said simply, taking a seat.

“I just watched you; one minute I'm leaving and the next minute you're going all
Carrie
with the doors and the windows.”

Dad scoffed lightly, smiling some. “She did it with a spell.”

“A
spell
?” This was too much. Alex ran his fingers through his hair again, pacing. “Since when, I mean—I mean, we don't
do
these things. These things
don't happen
! When did you start using spells?”

“When I was about your age, actually,” she said.

In the back of his mind, a snippet of a conversation played, something Director Carreras had said:
We
all
know about Amanda.

What does that mean?

It means that if not for your mother, your father would probably still be with the Polidorium,
Sangster had said. But Carreras had meant more than that, hadn't he?

“Back up, back up, back up,” Alex said.

“Do you want to sit?” his mother said, indicating a chair.

“No.” He frowned.

His father spun the empty chair around and sat down, resting his arms on the seat back.

Alex turned to his dad. “I mean, what—what was all that growing up about
this doesn't happen
. ‘Oh, that thing you just saw in a movie, no, that doesn't happen. Van Helsing name? Coincidence.'”

“I'm sorry, Alex. It seemed like the right way to go about it all.”

“Dad! Mom! I don't know if you know, but there are vampires out here. Actual vampires with, you know, fangs. There's this one with punky hair and crazy eyes and I can't seem to lose her. These people want my hide. There're no
spells
, though, that's an all-new little surprise!”

“Witches are actually fairly rare,” Dad said.

“And now you're all professorly about the witch-to-vampire ratio,
Dad
! When were you going to let me in on this?”

The three of them looked at one another. His mother's arms were crossed, and she looked a bit defensive, his father with his fingers laced together, gazing down. He couldn't hide that he seemed to think this was funny. Finally his father said, “We discussed it on the plane and honestly, we came to the conclusion that you probably knew most of it by now.”

“That's not—that doesn't even come close to—that's just about whether you were going to talk about it, when were you going to
tell
me?”

“You know how when you're little and you believe in Santa Claus? We need some fresh air,” his mother interrupted herself. She whispered something in a language he didn't recognize, and one of the windows slid open. She looked back at him, flipping her hair out of the way. “Anyway, it's always nicer if the kids find out first by themselves.”

“Yeah!” Dad agreed. “They see you taking down the presents, and then they
help.
”

“This isn't Santa Claus,” Alex spat. “Santa Claus turns out not to be real. The vampires went the
other way
.” He sighed, shaking his head, and breathed slowly. “When I got kicked out of Frayling, the boy I fought with was—”

“A werewolf,” Dad said. “And we talked about telling you then, but we thought we could give you a few more years of, you know,
innocence
might be the word.”

“Did you know that the Polidorium was here at Lake Geneva?”

“Well, I know they're everywhere, but no, I did not know that they had a large base here. And I
also
didn't expect that you would wind up working with them.”

“They gave him a motorcycle,” his mom said, clucking in disapproval.

“I didn't expect that either.”

“I don't understand,” Alex said, “I mean, any of it, but right now I don't understand what you know. How much—what do you—?”

“What do we know about your activities here?” Mom asked.

“Right, that's a start. We'll trade information.”

“I would advise you not to do that unless we ask,” his father said rapidly. Ever the company man.

“It started with a vision,” Mom said, “during a meditation session. It was a vision of a powerful witch, angry with you, but weak, unable to stop you.”

“I haven't met any witches,” Alex said again. “Do you mean someone at the Scholomance?”

Mom shrugged.

Alex asked, “What else did you see?”

“That vision was not mine,” said Mom. “It was—someone I was meditating with.”

“Uh, okay,” Alex said. Briefly he wondered who the other witches in his mother's life were. She belonged to roughly a dozen charitable boards—was there a coven among them?

“And then I looked for you, spiritually looked for you—that's hard to explain. But I didn't see any danger.” She looked at Dad. “But that wasn't good enough for me; I had your father do some checking up.”

“After that it was easy. The Polidorium can be leaky sometimes,” said Dad. “I got into some minor databases and saw some of the equipment that had been issued to you. I talked to some people I know.”

“Do you know Sangster?”

“Your teacher?” Dad asked.

“Right.”

“What did I tell you about
only if we ask
?”

“Okay,” said Alex helplessly.

“So it seems like you've gotten involved,” said Dad, “a little earlier than we'd hoped, but honestly this conversation was gonna happen sometime.”

“He's fourteen years old, Charles,” said Mom.

“Oh, come on, Amanda, it's Alex, he's a survivalist—we had soldiers in the Revolutionary War who were fourteen.”

“You said,” Alex broke in, “that we need to make a decision. So, who makes it? Would that be me, or would that be you?” He almost wanted the release of them taking charge. When he first started working with Sangster he had felt nothing but the rush of adrenaline every time he saw the Polidorium emblem, but now, with Vienna, and the Merrills, things had gotten . . . complicated.

“Is that what you want?” Mom asked, leaning forward. “Do you want us to decide for you?”

“Well . . . ,” Alex said.

“Because I know what I would choose,” she said intensely. “I would choose that you come home. It's not safe. It's too early to give up your life.”

“There's no reason to think he's gonna give up his life.” Dad scowled. “They have all the equipment, and a lot more backup than he would in Wyoming.”

“And they wouldn't come
looking
for him if he hadn't gotten involved in your little
fraternity
.”

“They're not wearing togas and playing beer pong, Mom,” said Alex.

“How do you know about
beer pong
? Do they allow drinking at—”

Alex waved his hands. “They don't even allow video games at this school. And you know what else? The Polidorium doesn't let me use a gun. Everyone's looking out for me, okay?”

“I'm sort of surprised at that about the guns,” Dad said.

“Right, because of the Revolutionary War,” Alex retorted. “You know, I saw a picture of you in, like, Prague, with a gun and rubble and stuff.”

“That's a pretty good description of my time there.”

Alex found himself laughing. He looked at them both. What he said next had to be good. It had to sound like he had his wits about him or the discussion would be over. He took a moment, looking down the mental chessboard again, and then laid it out. “When I found out there was such a thing as the Polidorium, it was like a light went on. It was like this was what I had been looking for. I wanted in. The truth is, I didn't tell you guys because I was afraid of what this talk here could become. I didn't want you to swoop in and take me home.”

“And now?” Mom asked.

“Look, I know I'm fourteen and it's not really normal for me to say there's a job to do, but it's very close to that. This is what my life is supposed to be. I can feel that. I have friends here, and I'm learning here.”

Dad nodded. “Alex, I'm not a part of the Polidorium life anymore. We have five children, and two of them are still small. If this is what you want to do for now, we won't force you to come home. But I have to urge you: Use everything. Pay very close attention. Listen to your instincts. We'll be staying in Geneva tonight, and then we're out of here before dawn—we have to be in London for a trust meeting tomorrow afternoon. But look, the instant you want to give up or it gets too hot, call us.”

“What your father is saying,” Mom said, “is that your family has been a part of a war for a long time, but
you
don't have to be a part of it.”

Dad chewed his lip. “No, no. No, he probably does. But it's up to him whether it's time.”

“Now,” said Mom. “We all have to go to the library, because apparently there's something called the Pumpkin Show.”

Chapter 16

It was time for the second Pumpkin Show, but a pall lay over this one as parents filed into the library—guests impatiently waiting for their real purpose, a conference with the administration that would follow the performance.

Alex left his parents to mingle and found Minhi, Vienna, and Paul standing around some empty seats near the front. Minhi was thumbing through the program. “Sid's
last
,” she said excitedly. That was a prime spot. There were only ten students competing tonight: some songs, some monologues, a dancer, and Sid's story. It was a new one; they had no idea what about. The yodeler hadn't made it, but Alex noticed her chatting with Sid near the big chair. Well, go, Sid.

Alex looked at Vienna. “Are you okay?” He meant about Steven.

She bit her lip. “I'm trying not to think about it.”

The various parents looked somewhat agitated, not surprising considering most of them were here to decide whether to let their sons stay. Inviting them all to a school event probably had made sense in a decorum sort of way, but there was palpable anxiety in the air.

Sangster was looking through some papers at a table next to the bookshelves and Alex caught his eye. “You talk to any of the parents?” Alex asked, coming over.

“A few. They're not sure we're doing this transition right.”

“It's been less than a week,” Alex said. “What do they want?”

“Alex, it's impossible to overstate how traumatizing an event like that can be for people. Lots of parents want to pull their kids out,” Sangster said. “How about yours?”

Alex shrugged. “They're letting me stay. Look, we have to talk about what happened at the hospital. There's a dead doctor. And the Scholomance was there; Elle was with them.” Suddenly Alex had a thought and looked around. “Are the Merrills' parents here?”

Sangster shook his head. He seemed to consider something for a moment, then pulled out a sheet of paper. “Look at this,” Sangster said as he handed it to Alex.

“Are you listening to me? We had another kidnapping,” Alex said urgently.

“Just—read it,” the teacher said. “And then give it back to me, because that's confidential.”

Alex took the sheet of paper and studied it for a moment. It was an official form from the Glenarvon Academy office. He saw the subject line, read on, then looked up. The subject line was essentially the entire document. Alex looked around, but nobody seemed to be paying attention to them. “This is a withdrawal notice,” Alex said, confused.

“For Bill and Steven Merrill,” Sangster said quietly. “That's on their parents' orders. School got a message saying that Steven and Bill were going to be picked up at the hospital and not to expect them to return.”

“This has to be a fake,” Alex said, handing it back. “I mean, the form is real, but I just saw a bunch of vampires take them away.”

“I understand,” Sangster said. “But Otranto received the phone call himself.”

“Anyone can make a phone call,” Alex insisted. “I could do that.”

“Alex,” said Sangster, “did they try to get away, the Merrills? Did they ask for your help?”

“No, they . . .”—Alex had to sigh—“Bill was in charge. He wanted us gone.”

“Think about it,” said the teacher. “Soon they'll be just two of perhaps scores of students taken out over the next hour, if I had to guess. The Merrills are gone, and if what you tell me is correct, they made a deal we can't stop.”

“You think the Merrills' parents deliberately handed them over to the Scholomance?” Alex looked around again, keeping his voice down. “I thought that organization was a secret.”

“The parents in these schools are some of the most connected people in the world, in politics, business, and everything else,” said Sangster. “The Merrills are part of a very old family in New York. Shuttling away children is not unheard of.”

“It's the
Scholomance.
Why would they do that? What kind of parents would do such a thing?”

“Maybe they thought it was their last hope for Steven,” said Sangster. “I don't know. But right now we have to stay on task. What about your parents?”

“Like I said, they're cool,” Alex said, looking back at the two of them, chatting with some other parents. Dad glanced at him briefly. Dad the retired spy. Mom the—the witch.

There was a buzz of activity in the library as Mr. Otranto entered in his usual elegant topcoat, bearing a briefcase. He headed for the center of the room and took his place.

“Oh,” Sangster said. “I called the hospital. The dead doctor you mentioned? There's no record of him either. And this time it's not us doing the covering up.”

Alex stared. “Jeez.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming,” said Mr. Otranto. “I know we have a lot of visitors. I myself am a visitor, so it weighs heavily on me. What I hope we accomplish tonight is a beginning of a shared destiny, if you will. But first I know that you will all enjoy seeing what these young men and women have been up to. Ms. Daughtry?”

For the second night in a row, Daughtry kicked off the evening as Alex went to take a seat with Paul, Minhi, and Vienna. Paul had an empty seat next to him, and there was also an empty seat between Minhi and Vienna. For a moment Alex froze, completely thrown by this choice.
Computer, run diagnostic.
He sat between the girls.

Behind him he heard some students studying the program and whispering, “A new one, a new one.” He realized they were talking about Sid's story. After one night, he had fans.

Sid's story tonight was called “The Iron Veil,” and it was a creepy little tale of unrequited love and an unpleasant discovery, in a strange, dreamy world of castles and knights. It came across more like a poem than had his previous work: more repeating phrases and rhythms within rhythms. When it finally wound its way to a climax of horror, Alex became aware that he had been drawn to the edge of his seat—the literal edge of his seat!—but that was nothing compared to the effect on the other students, especially some of the girls. They were as enrapt as before, with the same glassy-eyed, forward-leaning expression. That was some mojo Sid was working, especially, Alex noted with some astonishment, with the dozen or so senior girls in the room.

Alex threw Paul a smile that suggested they should all give up right now and start taking advice from Sid from then on.

After the readings were over, Ms. Daughtry made a few announcements about the next and final round coming in a few days. And then she shooed them all away for the parents' conference.

Alex wasn't there for that, but when his parents took their leave later, to go to their hotel in Geneva, he learned that it had been the civil bloodbath that Sangster predicted, since it appeared that returning to Glenarvon's campus was not going to be as fast as most parents had hoped. By the next morning Glenarvon Academy was seventy-five students lighter, bringing them down to one hundred, and the Merrills were just another ripple in the wave.