Sacrifices (6 page)

“Oh my god he is soooooo handsome!” Bella said swooningly.

“Yeah, and his brother’s right here,” Kylee said blightingly.

Bella turned beet red, her eyes wide with humiliation.

“Ah, and I swoop in and romance the ladies who are struck senseless by Mark’s beauty,” Teddy said, seizing Bella’s hand and kissing it theatrically. She blushed even harder, but now she was giggling.

Can’t any of these guys pick on girls their own age?
Clark Howard hit on her at the February Dance, Muirin and Ovcharenko were practically dating, and now Teddy was flirting with Bella.
Clearly the dating pool for Dark Lords is shallower than I thought.

The back doors of the Humvee swung open automatically. Everyone climbed out. By the time Teddy finished introducing the Spring Fling Joint Dance Committee, Madison Lane-Rider had joined her husband. She looked as if she’d stepped from the pages of a very expensive outdoorsman catalogue.

“Oh, I’ve been looking forward to meeting all of you!” she said, coming forward and taking Juliette’s hands in greeting. “The Spring Fling’s going to be so much fun—and I hope you’ll be willing to help me achieve a lifelong ambition, Juliette. And you, too, Brenda—all of you, really—at least the ladies. I’ve always wanted to open a little dress shop, and I think Radial’s the perfect place for it. If I can talk you into borrowing some of my dresses for the dance, well, it will put me on the map! Please say yes!”

Spirit had thought things were already as weird as they could get, but the fact that everyone was taking Madison seriously was even weirder.
A little dress shop? Come on! If Madison wanted to do something with fashion, she’d be designing a collection in Milan or Paris!

“Well I couldn’t just leave them at the library, Mark,” Teddy was saying. “That wouldn’t be fair.”

“Certainly not. But we can’t exactly leave them standing around in the mud, either.” Mark smiled at all of them again. “Why don’t you folks use the rec center? Feel free to grab some snacks. Just be sure to take care of business before you get on the computers. Although I’d just like to mention we put the beta of
Final Battle: The Rise of the Black Dragon
onto the server this morning, and I’d really love it if you could do a little beta-testing.”

“It’s in beta?” Brett said in excitement. “It isn’t going to be out for six months!” He looked toward the rec center eagerly. “Hey,
I’m
not on the Committee!”

“Come on then,” Teddy said, clapping Brett on the back.

*   *   *

The door had a Breakthrough logo on it. (Everything here seemed to.) Everybody murmured appreciatively as they walked inside—it was
warm
. Even Spirit, who by now expected over-the-top excess from Breakthrough, was stunned.

“Wow,” Veronica said in awe. “It looks just like a real house!”

“Yeah,” Chris said blandly. “If your house has a sixty-foot-long living room.”

The rec center was the size of two tennis courts. The floor was completely carpeted—a custom carpet with a repeating design of the Breakthrough logo (surprise). There were thirty computer stations—state of the art, of course—along the left wall and across the back. The screen savers all showed an animated version of the logo: the dragon coiled around the tower flapped its wings, arched its neck, spat fire. The right side of the room held half a dozen fridges, some tables and chairs, a counter with sinks, microwaves, coffee machines—and the biggest plasma television Spirit had ever seen. It was showing a football game. The middle of the room had several couch-and-chair “conversation groups,” all upholstered in black leather.

“Enjoy!” Teddy said. He bowed with a theatrical flourish and left them.

Brett rushed over to the nearest computer and sat down. Juliette rolled her eyes and shook her head. Zoey walked to one of the fridges and opened it. “Oh, man,” she said. “There’s everything in here! Hey, who’s up for another Coke?”

“Potato chips,” Kylee said feelingly, opening one of the cabinets. Spirit could see it was filled with every kind of junk food in the entire universe—cupcakes, pretzels, Cheetos, chips …

When Zoey closed the fridge she was holding two six-packs of soda and half a dozen tubs of chip dip.

“Okay, let’s get this over with,” Brenda said briskly. “The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can get on the computers.”

Even Juliette didn’t argue. Looking at the faces of the Radial teens, Spirit realized that if he could read their parents the way he could read the kids, Mark was going to be able to buy the whole town out of pocket change—and everyone there would be eager to sell.

THREE

The Dance Committee got back to Oakhurst barely in time to make dinner—not that most of them would have cared if they’d missed it. The meeting had been brief and perfunctory—Juliette had wanted to set up a joint email list for planning, and had sneered when Maddie said Oakhurst didn’t let them have Internet access—and then everybody had sat around stuffing their faces on junk food until Hailey and another driver showed up to bundle all of them into a couple of cars and drive them home.

Zoey and Dylan and Maddie had been loud and giddy with their sugar high, and even Chris and Kylee had been cheerful. Only Spirit had nothing to say.
Bread and circuses,
Mom’s voice whispered in her mind.
Bread and circuses.
She hated to think that people could be bought off—or distracted—that easily from something (especially if it was
really bad
), but she was starting to realize the problem was actually that you didn’t know how bad something was at first.

Maybe you didn’t know until it was too late.

She had just enough time to dump her coat and things in her room and run to the Refectory. She got inside just before the doors closed. She scanned the room quickly and winced. The resemblance between Oakhurst Academy and a teen slasher movie had never been stronger, Spirit thought. Every meal, now, there were a few more missing kids. Spirit might not know all their names, but she could count. So could the faculty, so there was never an empty chair to let you be
sure
someone was gone. Between lunch and dinner, everything had been shifted around even further—a quick count told her two of the tables had been removed. Spirit shuddered: that was thirty places.

It didn’t mean that many students were gone (yet): the chairs had all been crammed so close together at the remaining tables you probably wouldn’t be able to reach for your glass without elbowing whoever was beside you in the ribs.

She wondered how many more of them would have to vanish to make the staff remove another table.

“Hey, White. Glad you could join us.”

Spirit tried not to groan. If she’d had to make a list of “Oakhurst Proctors Most Likely To Become A Shadow Knight Upon Graduation,” Joe Rogers would have been near the top. Ever since Breakthrough took over, he’d made it clear he was willing to play favorites—and look the other way—for a price.

“I had Dance Committee,” she said briefly. “I was in Radial.”

“You should keep track of the time better,” Rogers said.

Spirit smiled at him coldly. “I’ll be sure to tell Teddy Rider you said so, Joe.”

She didn’t need his glare to tell her she’d scored a point. “Go get in line,” he said.

Sighing, Spirit took her place at the end of the long line. She was still cold—the Humvee had been warm, but the walk from the car to the building hadn’t been—and the Refectory was chilly. As she waited, she glanced idly around the room, trying to spot the others, but didn’t see any of them.

She frowned. Loch’s assigned seat was at the table at the far end of the room near the back wall—but tonight he wasn’t there. None of the usual kids were. Instead, Jenny and Kristi and Sarah were sitting where Loch and Noah and the rest of the “Platinum Spoon” kids usually sat.

“Hey, Spirit. Joe give you your new assignment?”

Kelly Langley, one of the Proctors, was walking up and down the line, casually ignoring the gun-toting Breakthrough thugs leaning against the walls.

“Oh god, not more homework,” Spirit groaned before she could stop herself.

Kelly smiled and shook her head. “New seating assignment. You’re at Joe’s table. Seat Five.”

Spirit felt like protesting, but this wasn’t Kelly’s fault. “Thanks,” she said instead, and Kelly nodded and moved on.

Joe could’ve told me himself. He was standing right in front of me. He was probably hoping I’d sit at the wrong table and get a demerit, or have to go wandering around the room looking like an idiot.

When she’d come to Oakhurst, there’d been one Proctor for every ten students. There were fewer students now, but there were still ten Proctors (though if they all lived until June, about a third of them would graduate). When Breakthrough had stuck everyone with assigned seating, they’d assigned a Proctor to each table (and had some left over). She’d had Gareth Stevenson before, and he was okay. Joe was a creep.

Just my luck,
she thought sourly, and stopped.
Was
it luck?
Once is chance, twice is bad luck, three times is enemy action,
Dad used to say. She knew Joe was a member of the Gatekeeper “honor society”—he wore the pin on his jacket. And the Gatekeepers were Shadow Knights in training. So was it chance she’d been assigned to Joe? Bad luck? Or—

I won’t know until I see who the others have,
she told herself firmly.

She’d reached the serving window. She set her tray down and did her best to smile at the server.

*   *   *

All through dinner, Spirit kept her head down and did her best not to be noticed, but it was hard, since Joe Rogers apparently thought the table was supposed to be his personal cheering section, and if you were quiet for too long he started badgering you to “say something.”

How about: you’re a jerk and a bully and you’ve gone to work for Voldemort?
Spirit thought crossly. She was more worried than she dared let on, because the only one of the others here at dinner was Loch. (Loch was at Kelly’s table. Lucky him.) She wasn’t worried by Muirin’s absence—Muirin only showed up for dinner about half the time these days—but what about Addie? And
Burke
?

Oh please, please, please, he has to be okay. Breakthrough won’t do anything really bad to him. They want him. He’s a Combat Mage, and they’re rare. Everyone says so …

She managed to get through the meal without attracting too much attention from Joe, but she was so worried that she risked approaching Loch after dinner was over.

“Not here,” he said briefly, glancing at her face. “Library.”

At least the Library was still a plausible destination even now. Most of their classes were either magic, folklore, or hitting things these days, but the one thing that had stayed the same was the crushing amount of homework. When she got there, Spirit took their usual table in the back of the Library, the one in the WiFi dead spot. Nobody sat there unless every other seat was filled.

A moment later, Loch sat down beside her. “Muirin was invited to eat in the Faculty Dining Room tonight,” he said without preamble, his voice whisper-low. He didn’t look at her as he spoke, and his lips barely moved. “Addie’s got punishment drill—she’s in the pool right now. Burke’s in the Infirmary. I hear his magic practice today sucked beyond the telling.”

“What happened?” She forced herself to speak calmly and quietly, even though she knew you only ended up in the Infirmary if something was
really
wrong—Healing was a Fire Gift, and Fire was the most common School. Even broken bones could be fixed in a matter of minutes by a Healer with a strong enough Gift.

“I’m not sure,” Loch said. “I heard them saying something about a new Combat Mage. Burke’s never faced one. If they’ve brought one in…” He shrugged.

“But he’s … Burke’s going to be okay?” she asked. She stumbled over the question, trying not to speak the one in her mind:
But he’s going to be coming back?

Loch glanced toward her for the first time since he’d sat down, and his expression was sympathetic. “Ms. Bradford says it’s just for overnight.”

Ms. Bradford was the School Nurse, one of the few members of the staff still doing the same job she’d been doing when Spirit had come to Oakhurst. Spirit let out a shaky sigh of relief.

“I never thought I’d see the day Adelaide Lake the Perfect would put a foot wrong,” she said, to keep from saying anything more about Burke. She wasn’t glad about Addie getting into trouble—she hoped she wasn’t—it was just that …

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Loch said grimly. “Maybe they want her to screw up.”

He looked so despondent Spirit impulsively put a hand over his. “Are
you
all right?” she asked.

He smiled bitterly. “The Spears family have always been survivors. It’s just … Is this the first time you’ve ever been in love?”

Spirit stared at him. How could he?…

“It’s kind of obvious,” Loch said gently. “You and Burke. And I’m happy for you. Please believe that.”

Spirit managed to nod. “I didn’t expect…” she said. “I always thought, well,
you
were more my type. You know, before you— Someone who … Burke always seemed like he didn’t know what a problem was,” she finished helplessly.

“He does now,” Loch said darkly. “I keep worrying he’s going to crack. He knows Ovcharenko killed his foster family now, and we
all
know Ovcharenko’s a Shadow Knight. And—Spirit—Burke’s under a lot more pressure than we are. He’s a Combat Mage. They really want him.”

“He won’t go over to them,” Spirit said. “Not as long as we all stick by him.” An idea struck her. “You should go see him, Loch. You’re a Shadewalker. You could sneak into the Infirmary. He could use a friend.”

“Yeah,” Loch said, looking away. “I just … Spirit, you have got to swear to me you won’t tell
anyone
what I’m about to tell you.
Promise
.”

“I promise,” she answered, feeling suddenly terrified. What could be so bad Loch felt he had to swear her to secrecy? And what if it was something she thought she needed to tell?