ELEVEN
The cars came to pick them all up; when they got to the train, a third and fourth railcar had been added. One was a sleek metal thing with no windows and a big double door. It didn’t look like a baggage car, more like something meant to hold a lot of cargo. And behind that was one of those container cars stacked two high. There were people loading the cargo car when they arrived, but it looked as if they had just started—and they were packing it tight.
The townies were already there, waiting; Mr. Krandal unlocked the doors to the passenger cars; he went into the rear car, and they all settled into their seats, but the train showed no signs of moving as the light faded.
The townies stirred restlessly, and Spirit was beginning to feel hungry. That was when Mr. Krandal came into their car from the rear car.
He rubbed his hand unconsciously over his bald spot. “As you can see, we’re taking this opportunity to get in some supplies for the school, and in addition, a generous Alumnus is getting us some new equipment we’re sure you’ll appreciate. However, since this is causing something of a delay in leaving, I’ve unlocked a game feed to your seat consoles, and…” A pizza delivery van pulled up to the platform. “… ah, there we are, right on time. We have some hot food for you.”
There were cheers at that, and a tall stack of pizza boxes was unloaded into each car. There was a little grumbling from the townies to discover that most of the toppings were “healthy”—a lot of veggies were involved, including shredded broccoli and “pepperoni” made of tofu. But there wasn’t too much complaining. Everyone was very hungry. These were gourmet pizzas, not stuff from a chain, delivered so hot the cheese was still bubbling. Spirit overheard Adam saying with awe that he’d heard one of these pies cost more than he made in two days at his job. That couldn’t be true, but it impressed the townies. There was contented silence, broken only when someone got up to get another slice. Then there was more silence as people put on headsets and plugged into the promised video game.
Out of curiosity, Spirit called it up, and was unsurprised to see that it was from Breakthrough. The game didn’t interest her; it was a futuristic combat game, and you were fighting what looked like alien Nazis in powered armor, big spherical flying things with tentacles and energy beams, and robotic wolves and eagles. It allowed several players to form a team and either take on things in the game or fight one another. You could be either some kind of soldier, or people in black bodysuits with all kinds of powers. Soldiers could only fight the Nazis or the people in the black bodysuits; people in black bodysuits could only fight the Nazis or the soldiers. Or both could team up to fight the Nazis. Interestingly, a lot of the powers involved magic that seemed to work exactly like the magic being taught at Oakhurst. It was very pretty, very fast moving, and as far as she could tell, very inventive, but she wasn’t in the mood to fight anything. Judging by the antics of most of the others, though, it was immediately popular with everyone playing.
The car was warm, the seat was comfortable, and Loch, Burke, and even Muirin were deep in the game. Elizabeth wasn’t playing, but she was staring at the screen, watching the others. With a mental shrug, Spirit pulled out one of her carefully considered purchases—a book—and pulled out her iPod, glad that she’d loaded it with music she liked, not the Music Appreciation stuff.
It was nearly 8 P.M. by the time the train lurched into motion. Spirit looked up when it did, but the others didn’t notice. She pulled up the game briefly to see what had them so immersed, but couldn’t tell which little figure was which person and shut it off again.
They had to detour to a siding halfway to Oakhurst to let an express freight go by and that delayed them further. By the time they got to the school, it was almost midnight and Spirit was too tired to think. The others were even more tired than she was, and they all shuffled like zombies into the tiny train station, where there were four more teachers waiting to check their purchases. The three chaperones didn’t stop at the station, and she was pretty sure they’d gone straight to their own quarters. She waited with the others while her purchases were examined for contraband—she half expected someone to say something about all the thumb drives, but no one did; they didn’t even give more than a cursory look inside the little white plastic bag from the computer store. She was really glad when they sent her off to the main building.
Muirin tailed her all the way to her room, chattering about nothing; as soon as they were out of sight of teachers and proctors, she held out her hand and Spirit passed her the white bag. Muirin blew her a kiss, and dashed off with it. Spirit got into her room and dumped her purchases on the bed.
A red sweater, some candy, a lipstick, two books, and a magazine. Everything but the magazine had been on sale, but she’d always been used to shopping carefully. Before.
She frowned and picked up yet another thumb drive. She hadn’t bought this. And it wasn’t anything like the thumb drives Muirin had bought. For one thing, this wasn’t in a blister pack. For another, it was in a brushed-metal case, not plastic. There was a little logo and a single word across the bottom just above the indicator light. IRONKEY.
Maybe it was already in the bag at the computer store. But she’d handed the whole bag to Muirin. It must have fallen out. If so, it was too late to return it, and there was no way to tell them she had it. Well, she was too tired to look at it now. She tossed it in a drawer and went to bed.
She woke to someone banging on her door; blearily she opened her eyes and saw it was just two minutes before her alarm was going to go off. “What?” she yelled, fighting her way out of the blankets.
Kelly opened the door and stuck her head in. “Special Assembly before class, in the Auditorium,” the Proctor said, and closed the door again.
Special Assembly?
She dressed with a little more care than usual—this might be a kind of inspection, and she didn’t want to take the chance on failing it; that left her a little behind, and the others must have already gotten breakfast, because there wasn’t any sign of them in the Refectory. She ate in a hurry—everyone else was bolting their food, so she figured that was a sign she’d better, too. The cold air hit her like a hammer as she went outside and hurried toward the Auditorium. And it was dark. She couldn’t help but think that if there was going to be an ambush by the bad guys, this would be a good time for it; either while they were all in the open, scuttling to the Auditorium, or even better, once they were all in the Auditorium.
When she got there, she got another surprise; no “free seating” this time, they all had assigned seats in alphabetical order. A proctor consulted a list and sent her to hers just as Doctor Ambrosius came out on the stage, and the house lights dimmed.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, casting his gaze around the room. “Some of you are already aware of our generous Alumnus donor, although you don’t yet know what he is giving us. I won’t spoil his surprise, but I will tell you this. After the incursion of those unwelcome visitors last week, Oakhurst put out a call for help, and the generous Oakhurst family has responded. We will be receiving both visitors and new residents today; I would like you to be on your best behavior and prove to them that the quality of Oakhurst students has not diminished over the years.” He cleared his throat, and scanned the audience again. “We will be playing host to students who graduated and went on to greatness, experts in protection and defense both arcane and—well, given the level of technology involved, I could not in good conscience call it mundane, so let us just say arcane and physical.” He smiled, grimly. “And let those who oppose Oakhurst beware.”
Well, everyone was surely awake by now. Spirit found herself sitting bolt upright in her seat.
“Now, if I may, let me introduce our benefactors: the CEOs of Breakthrough Adventure Systems and graduates of Oakhurst, Mr. Mark Rider and Master Theodore Rider. The microphone is yours, Mark.”
Astonished applause broke out across the room as two men in suits so perfectly tailored to them that they looked like second skins strode across the stage and took over the microphone that Doctor Ambrosius had relinquished. One was older than the other by at least a decade, dark-haired and powerful, though he could not by any stretch of the imagination be called handsome; he was the one who took over the mic. The other was blond, tall, and catlike; the way he moved gave Spirit the impression that he never stirred an inch without planning every step in advance.
“Good morning, fellow dwellers in the halls of Oakhurst,” the older man said genially. He had a deep, gravelly voice. “I’ll be sure and make this short enough so that you don’t get bored, and stretch it out long enough that you get to skip your first classes.”
There was a scattering of laughs. Spirit frowned a little as she watched and listened. The man reminded her of something or someone—but what, or who? He spoke without any “ums” or hesitations, however, so he was obviously used to speaking for an audience.
“I’m Mark Rider. Some of you may already know Breakthrough, or at least, know our products. Thanks to Oakhurst, when Teddy and I graduated from here, we had everything we needed to make ourselves into as big a success as we wanted—and we dreamed big.” Rider nodded a little at the murmur of appreciation. “We were grateful. So today we’re bringing that success back to the people that gave it to us. Now, what the outside world will know is this: Breakthrough is moving its HQ to Radial and entering into an historic partnership with Oakhurst Academy. We’ll be building and installing a brand-new, state-of-the-art computer facility here, and Oakhurst will be adding game design courses to the curriculum. Those of you with free time will be invited to become beta testers for Breakthrough, and for any of you who want a job with us after you graduate Oakhurst, or after you graduate from college, it will be there waiting for you.”
There was an outburst of wild applause at that, and Spirit could hear people whispering excitedly to each other. Mark Rider held up his hand. His class ring glinted brightly.
“Of course, that’s just what the ordinary world will see. But—as we all know—Oakhurst transcends the ordinary world. The first skirmishes of the war we’ve anticipated for so long, the war that Doctor Ambrosius trained us for, have broken out. Here. The enemy has come to the place where the next generation of magicians is trained and hardened. Obviously, his plan is to kill our future.” Rider’s face lost that professional smile. “We aren’t going to let him. And we’ve come back to Oakhurst to make sure that our side wins this thing. Our first order of business is to make sure that Oakhurst Academy is safer than the Vice President’s ‘undisclosed location.’”
There was a nervous laugh. Rider put his smile back on again. “This is not our first rodeo, kids. Breakthrough has security on its campus that would make the Secret Service bleed with envy, and we’re going to duplicate it here. We’ll be putting in new protections, and we’ve designed a whole new set of computer games to help train you—the world’s first Magic Simulator. The time is at hand; and when the enemy shows up for the first real battle, Oakhurst will be ready!”
More cheering.
“Of course this means that your classes will be changing; some will be dropped, others added. For the time being, we’ll keep up your academic and career classes—my hope is that we won’t have to change to full combat training for you, that we Alumni will be able to handle things and keep you safe, and this will all be over in time for me to welcome the next generation of Oakhurst graduates to my Developer Teams.” He grinned. His teeth were extremely white; somehow they looked like wolf teeth. “So now I’ll introduce to you some of my staff and family who will be the ones implementing that change. First, my lovely wife, Madison Lane-Rider, who will be replacing Ms. Lindsay Holland.”
He made a little beckoning gesture as Spirit blinked in surprise at the abrupt announcement that Ms. Holland was—gone. A supermodel-beautiful red-haired woman in a tailored suit moved across the stage in a catwalk strut, giving a professional smile to the audience, and ended up at Mark Rider’s side. She didn’t take Mark’s hand, nor did they kiss, which Spirit had half expected. She took a pose with all her weight on one foot, one hand on one hip, the other relaxed at her side.
“My brother Teddy, of course, who will be directing the new computer-training courses.”
Teddy Rider gave a little wave; he was as blond as Mark was dark, and had the most penetrating blue eyes Spirit had ever seen. He seemed to be looking through the students for someone.
“Anastus Leontivich Ovcharenko, who will be directing some of the new defense courses and supervising the installation of new defenses here at Oakhurst.” Another blond, this one very Russian looking, stalked like a prowling tiger across the stage to join the others. Spirit was startled to see he was wearing body armor under his suit jacket, and was openly carrying some sort of large firearm in a shoulder holster. “Anastus has been head of Breakthrough’s security division for the last year. He’ll be joined by Mia Singleton and Zachary York, who will be taking over the defenses here once the new installations are complete, as well as assisting him with martial arts and other classes. Ms. Singleton and Mr. York should be arriving this afternoon.” Mark Rider paused significantly; Doctor Ambrosius signaled what was expected by beginning the applause.
When it died down again, Rider leaned over the podium. “Make no mistake about this, kids. This is going to be a war, and it might last longer than we hope. We’re not sure if it will break out into the open or not, but even if it doesn’t, when it’s over, the world is likely to be a very different place, because this will spill out into the world. But we’re going to keep you all safe until you have the strength and the skill to stand with us. And we aren’t the only ones who will be doing so. There are more of us out there than any of you guess, and we aren’t going to let you down. As they can free themselves up, the rest of the Oakhurst family will be coming here to answer the call to arms. But for right now? When we’re done, only an idiot would try attacking this place.” He grinned. “So you can turn the watch over to us. And when you’re ready, we are all going to kick some serious ass!”
The room exploded in applause.
* * *
When they filed out, the area next to the gym was already swarming with a construction crew. Spirit had no idea how they were actually going to build anything in the middle of winter, but by midafternoon she had her answer. They’d erected a giant inflatable building over the site, a construction that was presumably going to make it possible to lay and cure a foundation. She’d seen similar buildings used for Indian casinos; they were easy enough to keep warm inside. There was already a separate generator out there, and Spirit heard a rumor that it was actually a hydrogen fuel cell able to supply enough power for all of Radial.
By evening, the school had already taken on a different tone. It was subtle, but obvious. Students who’d been looking over their shoulders ever since the New Year’s Dance were beginning to relax and go back to normal—well, Oakhurst normal, which meant that people were already scheming on how to get into the game design classes or some of the specialized “defense” classes. Just before sunset, the Russian, Anastus Ovcharenko, had been seen supervising the setup of what could only be a shooting range. The Refectory buzzed, and for the first time in weeks, Muirin, Burke, Loch, and Addie looked at ease.
Spirit, however, was not at ease. Nothing about this felt right, starting with the way Ms. Holland had just been erased from Oakhurst without a murmur—right after she’d tried to warn Loch and Burke.
They moved from the Refectory out to the lounge, and Addie set up the Monopoly board as usual. Spirit was determined to wake them out of this complacent state. “So Loch found this video on the system in the train,” she began, “and one of the townies was saying—”
“Whoa, Spirit, give it a rest,” Loch interrupted. “We don’t have to worry now. The cavalry’s here.”
“The—what?” she managed, staring at him. “Are you nuts? After what Ms. Holland said to you, and then she just gets replaced? Doesn’t that seem the least little bit fishy to you?”
Loch shrugged. “And Ms. Holland could have been the insider, trying to peel me and Burke off from the herd and Rider’s crew figured her out. Or she could have just quietly snapped, and what she told me and Burke was just part of her delusion, and they sent her away. Don’t read too much into this. Anyway, the point is, there are adults here now who actually believe that the war came to us. Adults, not kids, and they’ve got a lot of real-world power, just for a start.”
Muirin nodded sagely. “Mark Rider is worth billions. I’ll bet an imported Belgian truffle that as soon as she gets wind of this, Step is going to turn up here to cruise his younger brother. Enough money can buy us just about anything, including an army of security guards if we need them. And have you seen their auras? If they glowed any more you’d have to put a dimmer switch on them. That means magic power, baby, and lots of it.”
“So, Mr. Rider was right, even if he did have to grandstand about it,” Loch continued. “We can relax and let them take over. We can go right back to just worrying about school stuff. And it’s about time.”
She tried not to splutter. “And doesn’t it seem awful convenient that they turn up within days of those Shadow Knights? Shadow Knights wearing Oakhurst rings? Hello! Anybody?”
Muirin sneered just the littlest bit. “Shadow Knights? Where did you get that from, some bad fantasy novel?”
“Come on, Murr-cat,” Burke said. “Keep your claws for people who deserve to get scratched.”
Loch shook his head. “Of course they turned up within days, Spirit. Doctor A. said he’d called them. You’re confusing cause and effect. The attack was the cause, having them turn up was the effect. And so what if the bad guys were wearing rings? Heck, they could have stolen them, made them, or just used an illusion to throw us off and put us at each others’ throats.”
“But!” Spirit began, and Addie made a lip-zipping motion.
“Relax. You’ve been keyed up for so long you’re probably having an adrenaline crash,” Muirin said shrewdly. “I bet it’s got to hurt, not being the boss anymore, too. Let it go. You don’t have to be in charge now, and it’s not going to hurt you to give the boss-hat to someone with real experience.”
“But I wasn’t—but I didn’t—” Spirit stammered, taken aback.
Muirin just raised a knowing eyebrow at her. I know you enjoyed bossing us around, and being the Special One who saw there was danger before anyone else did, but you can’t be the Special One forever. That was what that look said. She flushed.
Suddenly she didn’t have any taste for Monopoly.
The others weren’t paying that much attention to the set anyway. Burke and Loch were quickly deep in a discussion of whether or not Burke would make a better game designer, developer, or programmer. “After all, it’s not like I’ve got a pile of money waiting for me when I turn eighteen,” Burke said with a shrug. “And with any luck, Doctor A. and the Riders will clear this war out before we graduate. So I’ll need a job, you know? Might as well be something I like.”
Muirin laughed. “Maybe I actually can scrape Step off onto Teddy Rider; when she’s stalking her prey she always forgets I even exist.”
They all seemed to have forgotten everything they’d learned; Spirit could hardly believe it. Didn’t they want to find out what was really going on? Didn’t they want to know who the insider was, instead of just guessing? And what about the “other” Oakhurst, the one where people who didn’t have magic went? Because, supposedly, they were all Legacies, right? And she knew darn good and well that her parents hadn’t had the least little bit of magic. If they had, life would have been a lot different. Maybe they’d have hidden it from their friends, but their own kids, kids who might have some of that magic themselves? No way. So where was this “other,” this “shadow” Oakhurst?
And if it didn’t exist—well that would mean that they’d all been lied to. They weren’t Legacies. They’d been found some other way. And what did that mean?
But the others acted as if the last several months had never happened, as if Oakhurst was going to go back to normal. Loch argued with Burke about taking shooting classes. And Muirin was asking Addie if she thought that the Russian was worth making a pass at!
Spirit wanted to jump up and start screaming, just to get them to stop.
And then she noticed that they were all wearing their rings, which glinted brightly with the colors of their School of Magic. In fact, as she looked around, she realized everyone in the lounge had taken to wearing their rings.
Except her.
It was horrible. There she sat, with the conversation going on around, over, under, and past her. It was as if she wasn’t even there.
Finally she made an excuse and went back to her room.
She lay down on her bed and stared at the ceiling, feeling desperately that something horrible was going to happen, and knowing there was nothing she could do to prevent it. It was like being in a nightmare, where you ran from one person to another, screaming at them that something awful was going on, and they acted as if you were nothing more than an annoying fly. Except this was real.
Was she wrong? Everyone else seemed so sure. The adults were here, the “cavalry,” and it was true, they had resources and abilities the kids could only dream of having. Money, skills, experience—and magic, lots of it. Spirit didn’t even have a spark of magic. Was this just her wanting to hang on to the moment when she’d been important, when she’d been the one figuring things out? Loch had been the first one to say it on Christmas Day. She should have known he wouldn’t be the last.
But …
Ever since the week before Christmas, she’d been the one warning everyone that it wasn’t over, and look, she was right, it not only wasn’t over, here were a bunch of adults saying that stuff was just beginning. She’d been proved right. This was the ultimate “I told you so.” Shouldn’t the arrival of the “cavalry” make her happy? Hadn’t she wished more than once that she could feel safe again? And now, she should be able to feel safe, right? Not only were these people setting up magical defenses, they were setting up physical ones, expensive ones that probably not even Oakhurst could have paid for. The Riders had come flying back to Oakhurst when Doctor Ambrosius called. It wasn’t easy, out there in the big world, to just shut your business down and move it elsewhere. They’d sacrificed a lot. Shouldn’t she just shut up and be grateful?
She should. Her head said she should. But her insides were seething with revolt, telling her there was something so wrong about all of this that there was not one bit of it that could be right.
And no one would believe her.
Not even Burke. Not even Loch.
Her head ached with the effort of not crying; finally she got up and splashed some cold water on her face. She glanced at the clock, and couldn’t believe it was only eight. It felt as if she had been lying there for hours. No way she was going to be able to get to sleep, not this early. She thought, briefly, about trying to see if Doc Mac was available. She still trusted him—and maybe he could tell her if she was just being paranoid, if she was just trying to hang on to her teeny little bit of fame, manage to reassure her—
But it was really too late at night for something that wasn’t an emergency. Besides, he was probably meeting with the new people. It sounded like Mark Rider was the kind of guy who wanted the psychological profiles of everyone around him.…
Might as well fire up the computer. She still had class work to do, even if the classes she was doing it for were going to be canceled in the next couple days and replaced with—what? More martial arts? Magic classes she could do nothing in?
Maybe I can learn to shoot a gun and be cannon fodder.
She plopped down in her seat, successfully kept herself from opening up the school chatroom, and got her after-class assignments. Math problems and an essay, oh joy. Resolutely she did her assignments, and reached into the drawer for a thumb drive to save them until she could get time on a printer. For all she knew, there would be an EMP or a power outage or an undervolt, and she’d lose everything she’d just done.
Her hand fell on something smooth and cooler than the thumb drive she was looking for. She pulled it out.
It was the mysterious “Ironkey” drive she’d found in her bag.
She hesitated a moment, then shrugged, and plugged it into the USB port. The worst that would happen would be that it would infect her computer and the school net. Bitterly, she decided that wouldn’t be so bad … it would give Mark Rider and his computer geeks another chance to save the day. And the best? There might be something interesting on it. Something to take her mind off this mess.
Her computer registered and recognized the device. She clicked on the book-shaped icon.
A window opened. Words appeared.
Are you alone? Y/N
OK, that was weird. Y, she typed.
What is your name?
Spirit White.
Correct answer. Who was Mr. BunBun?
Spirit blinked. She hadn’t thought of that in years. When she was five, for some unknown reason the stores had run short of stuffed rabbits at Easter, and her parents had gotten her a pink stuffed plush dog instead. She’d called it Mr. BunBun and for three years she couldn’t be separated from it.
How did a program on a flash drive know that?
Muirin. This had to be some kind of prank of Muirin’s. She didn’t remember telling Muirin about Mr. BunBun, but obviously she had. And Oakhurst did have killer computer labs. Even if Muirin couldn’t write a program like this, she could find someone to do it for her.
Might as well see what happens.…
My stuffed dog, she typed.
Correct answer. Welcome, Spirit White.
A new window opened, full of text. She began to read it, slowly.
Instructions. Instructions—supposedly—on how to use a code package in a file on this key to do what, so far, none of the school hackers had ever been able to. Get past the firewalls undetectably, and reach outside the intranet and onto the Internet. Into the world.
Muirin couldn’t have done this. If she knew how, she’d do it herself. If she meant to share it with Spirit, she’d have bragged about it. Spirit’s mouth went dry, and she sat back in her chair, staring at the screen. If this worked, she could talk to anyone—do research—get advice.
But then the temporary euphoria abruptly vanished. Who would she talk to? She was all alone. She didn’t know anyone. She wasn’t like Muirin, who had contacts everywhere and knew how to make more. Everyone she knew, everyone she cared about, was right here.
And if it was a trap—would it be a trap laid by the Oakhurst insider? Ms. Holland could have planted this in her bag. What would happen if it was a trap? Could you use a computer program to do magic? Would it bring a Shadow Knight straight to her? Or had whoever put this in her bag figured she did have friends outside the school, and intended to use her to find them?
She stared at the screen for a good minute before finally unplugging the drive and throwing it back in the drawer.
It was no use. She was alone, afraid, and without allies. She got undressed, went back to bed, turned off the lights, and cried herself to sleep.