Conspiracies (Mercedes Lackey) - By Mercedes Lackey Page 0,40
cut across them all.
“Have done.”
It had the volume of a drill sergeant without sounding as if the person speaking was raising his voice at all, and it had, above all, Authority. It was recognizable immediately, of course.
Doctor Ambrosius.
“He used Command Voice,” murmured Burke, still making no move to pry her off his arm. “It’s a minor Air Spell.”
The babble cut off to nothing—well, almost nothing. There were still some people sobbing, and a couple murmuring drunkenly.
“Whatever caused this, no one has been seriously injured,” Ambrosius said, his expression unreadable. “It’s entirely possible it was a prank gone wrong, as I doubt any Oakhurst student intends to actually challenge the staff, and such an effect, if it were caused by a spell, would, of course, be properly taken as a formal challenge.”
His eyes flitted over the crowd, as if he was looking for a guilty face, or someone who might at least know something. As he looked them over, he continued to talk, meaningless explanations, as if he was trying to hold their attention while he looked for something. Nothing of what he said made any sense, at least not to her. Ball lightning, Magnetic Resonance Waves, ancient Panic fear caused by the presence of a supernatural being … it seemed as if he was just babbling whatever came into his head while his eyes probed everywhere.
That was when Spirit realized that her ring was glowing.
So was Burke’s.
“Your ring,” she hissed at him. He glanced down and his eyes went wide.
She flashed a startled look across the gym and caught Addie’s eye and, under the cover of her skirt, waved her ring hand at her friend. Addie’s eyes narrowed, she looked down, and murmured something to Loch and Muirin.
Their rings were glowing, too. And near as Spirit could tell, no one else’s was.
Addie quickly turned the stone into her palm and closed her hand over it; the other two did the same. Spirit tugged on Burke’s arm, demonstrated, and he followed suit.
All the while, Doctor Ambrosius kept talking, his eyes searching, searching, searching. But whatever he was looking for, he didn’t find it, so at last he gave up.
“All things considered, this was unpleasant, and an exceedingly rude way to interrupt the festivities, but the damage, such as it was, is minimal. Since it is clear that we can hardly continue the New Year’s celebration, I am ordering all students back to their rooms, and all teachers into conference in my office. We will get to the bottom of this. And meanwhile, compose yourselves. Fortunately, tomorrow is not a class day; I will leave orders with the staff to keep a brunch buffet open until two in the afternoon so that you may sleep in and shake off the aftereffects of this. If anyone feels seriously ill, please report to the Infirmary.”
He turned and left. Muirin, Addie, and Loch pushed their way through the crowd to Burke and Spirit, all three of them still visibly shaken. Muirin was so pale it looked as if she had done a full-out Gothic Vampire makeup job, and Addie’s lips were pressed tight and colorless.
“Are you two all right?” Addie asked. Spirit nodded, and finally let go of Burke’s arm, but still kept hold of his hand.
Addie shivered, and hugged herself, rubbing her arms. “I’ve never been through anything like that in my life. I wasn’t even that scared when we were fighting the Hunt.”
“I don’t know what that was, but I’m kind of torn,” Muirin put in. “On the one hand, anything that ends this funeral early is all right with me. On the other hand, I didn’t get nearly enough soda.” Her words were light—but her voice was strained, and her eyes were still so wide with fear that she looked almost comical.
“I can fix that.” With an apologetic smile, Burke patted Spirit’s hand until she let go of his hand. He shoved his way through the crowd to the bar, and when he came back, his arms were full of two-liter bottles of soda. He shoved the cola at Muirin, who took three bottles with a tremulous smile of thanks. He passed a ginger ale to Addie, a cola to Spirit, a bottle of something fluorescent-yellow to Loch, and kept a bottle of cola for himself. “Caffeine and sugar,” he said by way of explanation. “Good for shock. That’s what I told the bartenders anyway.”
At this point, the teachers had completely shaken off the effects—or at least, enough so that they could