Spirit Prophecy (The Gateway Trilogy Book 2) (33 page)

I fumbled to extract my copy of the Book of Téigh Anonn from my back pocket. I took a deep breath.

“Ready?” I asked Hannah.

“Ready,” she said.

Hannah took her place beside the green candle, while I stood beside the yellow one. A quiet murmuring of voices began as soon as we took our assigned places. I had been expecting this, so it did not startle me as it had the first time. It was also a much gentler hum than on that first night, as we were no longer opening the Gateway to nearly two decades worth of trapped souls.

We said the incantation together, speaking slowly and carefully:

“We call upon the powers endowed us of old.
We call upon the connection that binds us together.
With the joining of hands and the joining of blood,
The Gateway we open, the spirits we summon.”

Hannah lit the white Spirit candle in the center of the circle, and then we grasped right hands. I felt the Gateway flow through us, ready to burst open, and began to chant.

“Téigh Anonn. Téigh Anonn. Téigh Anonn.”

Flash.

A hot and smoky kitchen with stone walls and a dirt floor. A baby screaming in a wooden cradle nearby. Running through a sea of wild grain, sunlight gleaming in my golden hair. The smell of livestock as I struggle with a pail of fresh steaming milk. The sounds of sobbing as I lift a scabbed and oozing hand in front of my face.

Flash.

Light shattering into a rainbow across a tiny, dimpled hand. The smell of a freshly starched shirt sliding over my braids. Sobbing over a torn and bloody hole in my new stockings. Climbing out over a peeling white windowsill to the boy below, waiting on his red bicycle.

Flash.

One by one, the memories flooded through me, at once foreign and familiar. The sensation was disorienting, and beneath the current of the others’ thoughts, I found myself worrying that I would lose my balance and break the connection.

Flash.

Astride a galloping horse, the wind filling my lungs with the heady scent of lilacs. Clinging for dear life to a bedpost as a grim-faced maid tugs mercilessly at the strings of my corset. Lying beneath a barrel-chested man in a down-feathered bed, my eyes clenched shut, tears streaming down my face.

Flash.

A butterfly trapped beneath a glass jar, beating its wings with frantic taps against the walls of its prison. Running along beside a train waving and crying, waving and crying at the man in the uniform. Crawling through the sucking mud as explosions rain down overhead. Dragging the terrible dead weight of a friend across a wasteland of barbed wire and mangled corpses, sobbing my curses to the leaden sky.

Flash.

I lost track of how many lives passed through us, but before I could even process the flood of emotions, it was over, much more quickly than I’d expected. I felt the Gateway close tightly inside me, and I opened my eyes to stare around, my own consciousness flooding back through me. Even full of my own thoughts and memories, I felt weirdly empty. I brushed someone else’s tears from my cheeks.

Hannah her right hand still grasped tightly in mine, was pale and trembling. I watched as her sense of where and who she was flickered back into her eyes. Then she seemed to see me again, and smiled gently.

“That wasn’t as bad as last time,” she said quietly.

“No, it wasn’t,” I said. “But it’s still very…” I put my fingers to my chest, struggling to retrieve the right word. But Hannah didn’t need it.

“Yeah. It is,” she replied. “I don’t think that will change, no matter how many times we do it.”

I dropped to the ground and pulled my knees to my chest, gazing around. Nearly everyone had finished. Most of the girls looked the way I felt, windswept and visibly emotional. The quiet was punctuated by an occasional sob. Then I saw Peyton and Olivia several circles away, quietly talking as they packed up their candles. There was something odd about their appearance. It was hard to put my finger on, but they looked refreshed, almost glowing. Most everyone else looked depleted and emotionally drained, just as I felt.

Finvarra did not address us again, though she was nodding and conversing quietly with the teachers, a satisfied expression on her face, so we must have met with her approval. Mackie and several other students were wending between the groups with tall, silver pitchers of water, washing the chalk circles away. We’d been taught that power remained behind in a circle that had been used for a Crossing, and that it was best to remove the traces as soon as possible.

“So, how did your Crossing go, Hannah?” a voice said.

I turned and saw, to my astonishment, Peyton talking to Hannah, her tone and expression perfectly friendly.

Hannah answered warily. “Fine. Much faster than last time.”

Peyton nodded. “I’m told it gets easier. I would think it must be even smoother for you, what with the power of your gift.”

Hannah was still frowning. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Some of the girls and I were going to meet in the library tomorrow to start researching that Necromancer paper for Celeste. Would you like to join us?” Peyton asked, looking at us both.

I could barely think past my surprise to answer. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, perfectly. Many hands make light work,” Peyton said brightly.

“Why would you want us to come?” Hannah asked.

“Is there going to be another ancient creature lurking in the stacks bent on our destruction?” I asked in the same bright tone.

Peyton looked unconvincingly confused for a moment, then laughed airily. “Oh, I see. I hope you aren’t going to read too much into our little prank the other night,” she said. “It was all in good fun, I promise you.”

“Oh yeah, I for one had a blast,” I said. “Hannah?”

“Yes, we should definitely do that again this weekend,” Hannah said.

Mackie walked over, splashing water over the perimeter of our circle. “Everything alright over here?”

“Oh, yes,” Peyton said. “I was just inviting Hannah and Jess along to a study session, but I’m afraid they don’t seem very interested. Still a bit touchy about our joke the other night.”

“If that’s your idea of a joke, your sense of humor is complete rubbish,” Mackie said.

“If you say so,” Peyton said, smiling. “I’m just trying to extend the olive branch. If you ladies aren’t ready, I certainly understand. Perhaps another time.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” I said.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve even talking to them, you know,” Mackie said. “In fact, you’ve got a lot of nerve talking to any of us right now.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Peyton said.

“Leeches never do,” Mackie spat with contempt.

Peyton’s face tightened slightly at the word, but quickly relaxed into a smile. “I’m just going to let that unfounded accusation pass, and choose to accept the implied compliment.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Mackie said.

Peyton smiled ingratiatingly and flounced off across the lawn to her waiting pack of minions, who began whispering excitedly together at once. Mackie continued to look daggers at them until they vanished into the castle, silhouetted for a moment in the yellow frame of the open doors.

“She can’t possibly think we’d want to have anything to do with her after last night,” I said.

“All I wanted to do was scare her off with that Caller stuff,” Hannah said, “but now it sounds like she wants to be best friends or something!”

“I’m not surprised,” Mackie said. “Peyton’s kind always flocks to the talented and the impressive. You’ve achieved celebrity status around here with your gift; they can’t stop obsessing about it. That’s probably why they want to hang out with you now.”

“Why did you call her a leech?” Hannah asked, stealing my question before I could ask it.

“Because that’s what she is. Her and her mother and the whole lot of them in that Council inner circle.”

“Yeah, but what does it mean? I can think of a few choice words I’d like to call her, but leech wasn’t one of them,” I said.

Mackie turned her eyes on us and she shook her head like a dog expelling water. “Sorry, I forget how much you don’t know.”

“Thanks for rubbing it in,” I said.

“No, not like that. Sorry. I just mean that I probably say all kinds of stuff around you that you haven’t learned yet, without properly explaining myself.”

“That’s okay,” I said, waving her apology away. “We’re used to playing catch up around here. Usually we just nod and smile until we can figure out what the hell is going on.”

“Yup,” Hannah agreed. “You are looking at two expert nodders and smilers.”

Mackie motioned for us to follow her as she finished washing away the circles. “Right. Well, have you noticed that Peyton’s mother and her flock are a bit…well, gorgeous? Like, weirdly so?”

“Yeah, I did. I just figured they all indulged in a lot of plastic surgery,” I said.

“Well, they are indulging, but surgery doesn’t play a part. Let’s see, how to explain it.” She bit her lip. “Look, you know how, when you’re doing a Crossing and you can see the spirits’ lives flash before your eyes?”

“Yeah,” Hannah and I said together.

“And you know how you experience things almost as though they are happening to you, as if you are living their memories?”

“Yeah,” I said again, with a shudder. The sensation was still fresh in my mind and body.

“The reason we feel and see those things is called aura flow. Because of our abilities, we are wired to be receptive to the feelings and energy of others, as long as they’re dead. It’s a little tricky to explain, but I expect Siobhán will be covering it in Ceremonial Basics pretty soon,” Mackie said, scratching her chin thoughtfully.

“I think I’m with you so far,” I said. “We are programmed to experience their memories.”

“Right,” she went on, “but it’s more than that. Their lives, when they flash past us, are like an electric current, a live feed of energy. We’re supposed to just act as conductors, letting the energy pass through uninterrupted—that’s the whole point of the Gateway. But some of us,” and here she cast a dirty look toward the castle entryway where Peyton had disappeared, “can’t help but take a little for themselves.”

“How do you mean?” Hannah asked.

“Leech is a term for a Durupinen who siphons spirit energy from the ghosts as they cross through the Gateway. They pull the energy from the spirits and take it into themselves.”

My mouth dropped open. “Why? Why would someone do that?”

“Just look at them,” Mackie said bitterly. “It’s like a fountain of youth. They can use the energy to perfect themselves, correct flaws and enhance their looks.”

“Okay, I know I’m new at all this stuff, but that sounds seriously wrong to me,” I said.

“It is,” Mackie said. “The ability to siphon is a latent ability, not meant to be used except for in dire emergencies.”

“What kind of emergency could ever possibly require that?” Hannah asked.

“Like, if a Durupinen was too sick or injured to conduct a Crossing on her own, she could siphon a bit of spirit energy to give herself the strength to complete it,” Mackie said, pouring out the rest of the water into the grass and replacing the pitcher on its stone plinth. “You use the spirits to strengthen yourself, but only to help them, see?”

I nodded my head slowly. “I think so. Are we likely to be in a situation like that?”

“Not really anymore. Being a Durupinen used to be a lot more dangerous, back when people considered witch-burning a recreational sport, and also when the Necromancers were still around. But somewhere along the line, someone figured out that the siphoning had some beneficial side effects, and started using it for her own means. It caught on in certain clans, and since then it’s become a rather common practice.”

“But it’s so obvious who’s doing it,” I cried, dropping onto the seat beside her. “They aren’t exactly being subtle about it, are they? I mean, they look like freaking supermodels, for God’s sake!”

“It’s one of those things we aren’t supposed to do, but everyone sort of turns a blind eye to it. Finvarra is especially lax about it since she’s come to power, but then, she’s looking pretty young and attractive herself these days,” Mackie pointed out.

“You mean she does it, too?” Hannah said, shocked.

“Either that or she hasn’t aged in about fifteen years.” Mackie said darkly. She pulled an apple from her bag, examined it, and took a huge bite. “The point is, a lot of the women around here have started to view it as one of the perks of the job. They think the spirits owe it to us for devoting our lives to helping them.”

“But we aren’t helping them if we’re draining their energy. Are we?”

Mackie continued through a mouthful of apple. “That’s the most ironic part. They’re taking this energy as though it’s some kind of just reward, but actually it’s quite dangerous. The spirits need that energy to fully cross beyond this world, and all it takes is someone being a little too greedy for that spirit to get trapped in the Aether.