There was no easy answer, and I couldn't start jumping to conclusions. Not until I knew more. Christian agreed to keep it secret, and by the time we joined the others, it was almost time for curfew anyway. We had only about a half hour together, and then we all split off for bed - including me, since the part-time field experience agreement said I couldn't do nighttime duty. The Strigoi risk was low in general anyway, and my instructors were more concerned about me getting a full night's sleep.
So when curfew came, I walked back to the dhampir dorm alone. And then, when I was almost there, he appeared again.
Mason.
I came to an abrupt halt and glanced around me, wishing someone else was there to witness this and settle the crazy-or-not thing once and for all. His pearly form stood there, hands in the pockets of his coat in an almost casual way that somehow made the experience that much weirder.
"Well," I said, feeling surprisingly calm, despite the sorrow that washed over me whenever I saw him. "Glad to see you're alone again. I didn't really like the extras on the plane."
He stared, expression blank and eyes sad. It made me feel worse, guilt twisting my stomach into knots. I broke.
"What are you?" I cried. "Are you real? Am I going crazy?"
To my surprise, he nodded.
"Which?" I squeaked. "Yes, you're real?"
He nodded.
"Yes, I'm crazy?"
He shook his head.
"Well," I said, forcing a joke through my hurricane of emotions. "That's a relief, but honestly, what else would you say if you're a hallucination?"
Mason just stared. I glanced around again, wishing someone would come by.
"Why are you here? Are you mad at us and looking for revenge?"
He shook his head, and something in me relaxed. Until that moment, I hadn't realized how worried I'd been about that. The guilt and grief had been wound up so tightly in me. Him blaming me - just as Ryan had - had seemed inevitable.
"Are you ... are you having trouble finding peace?"
Mason nodded and seemed to grow sadder. I thought back to his final moments and swallowed back tears. I'd probably have a hard time finding peace too, taken from my life before it began.
"Is there more than that, though? Another reason you keep coming to me?"
He nodded.
"What?" I asked. There were too many questions lately. I needed answers. "What is it? What do I need to do?"
But anything other than a yes or no question was beyond us, apparently. He opened up his mouth as though he would say something. He looked like he was trying hard, like Adrian had with the plant. But no sound came out.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm sorry I don't understand ... and...I'm sorry for everything else."
Mason gave me one last wistful look and then vanished.
Twenty
"Lets talk about your mother."
I sighed. "What about her?"
It was my first day of counseling, and so far, I wasn't impressed. Last night's Mason sighting was probably something I should have brought up right away. But I didn't want school officials to have any more reason to think I was losing my mind - even if I was.
And honestly, I didn't know I was for sure. Adrian's analysis of my aura and the story of Anna certainly lent credence to me being on the road to Crazyville. Yet I didn't feel crazy. Did crazy people know if they really were? Adrian had said they didn't. Crazy itself was a weird term. I'd learned enough about psychology to know that it was also a very broad classification. Most forms of mental illness were actually very specific and had select symptoms - anxiety, depression, mood swings, etc. I didn't know where I fell on that scale, if I did at all.
"How do you feel about her?" continued the counselor. "About your mother?"
"That she's a great guardian and a so-so mother."
The counselor, whose name was Deirdre, wrote something in her notebook. She was blond and Moroi-slim, clad in a teal cashmere sweater dress. She actually didn't look much older than me, but certificates on her desk swore she had all sorts of degrees in psychotherapy. Her office was in the administrative building, the same place the headmistress's office was, and where all other sorts of Academy business was conducted. I'd kind of been hoping for a couch to lie on, like therapists always had on TV, but the best I had was a chair. It was a comfy chair, at least. The walls were covered in nature pictures, things like butterflies and daffodils. I guess they were supposed to be soothing.
"Do you want to elaborate on 'so-so'?" Deirdre asked.
"It's an upgrade. A month ago I would have said 'horrible.' What's this have to do with Mason?"
"Do you want to talk about Mason?"
I'd noticed she had a habit of answering my questions with questions.
"I don't know," I admitted. "I guess that's what I'm here for."
"How do you feel about him? About his death?"
"Sad. How else should I feel?"
"Angry?"
I thought about the Strigoi, their leering faces and casual attitudes toward killing. "Yeah, a little."
"Guilty?"
"Sure, of course."
"Why 'of course'?"
"Because it's my fault he was there. I'd upset him...and he had this thing to prove. I told him where the Strigoi were, and I wasn't supposed to. If he hadn't known about them, he wouldn't have done it. He'd still be alive."
"You don't think he was responsible for his own actions? That he was the one who chose to do that?"
"Well... yeah. I guess he did. I didn't make him do it."