Conspiracies (Mercedes Lackey) - By Mercedes Lackey Page 0,5

had ever seen. It seemed to hold up the ceiling—which was at least thirty feet away. Behind the tree-pillar was a balcony stretching the breadth of the room with two half-circle staircases leading up to it. The rest of the ceiling was crossed with peeled-log beams—Loch had said the first time they saw it that Oakhurst was done in a style called “Arts and Crafts Lodge”—and between the rustic beams were panels of parquetry in vaguely Egyptian patterns. The floor was done in the same design, only in shades of green and gray stone instead of wood.

On the right side of the Entry Hall—as you came in—were the huge double doors that led to Doctor Ambrosius’s office. On the left there was a stone fireplace more than big enough to park a horse in—or roast one. Hung above the fireplace was a huge banner with the Oakhurst coat of arms on it. Spirit hadn’t liked the design the first time she saw it, and she liked it less now. (Loch called it “faux armigerous,” whatever that meant.) The coat of arms appeared on everything at Oakhurst, including bedspreads, bathrobes, and towels, though most of the time it wasn’t in color. The banner had the whole deal though: a red shield with a white diagonal stripe across it, an oak tree colored bright green and brown like a picture in a kid’s book, and a bright yellow—or gold—snake coiled in the branches. On top of the shield there was a bear’s head on a plate (brown head, silver plate, red blood). On the left side of the shield there was a gold upside-down cup, and on the right side there was a broken silver sword. Way to impress the parents. Oh, I totally forgot. None of us has any parents to impress.…

The log-and-leather couches that usually sat in front of the fireplace—though Spirit had never seen anyone sit in them—had been removed to make way for the Christmas tree. It looked like a tree in a movie, and that was another odd thing in a school that didn’t believe in holidays: The Oakhurst tree was a gigantic blue spruce, tall enough to reach most of the way to the ceiling, and every inch of it was decorated. Not with a bunch of Kmart–Wally World plastic junk, either: The ornaments were glass, antique, and probably cost more than the last Star Wars movie.

All around it were presents, and Spirit saw, with a faint despairing disbelief, that no matter the design on the wrapping paper, every present under the tree was wrapped in the Oakhurst school colors: brown, gold, and cream.…

* * *

Since the couches were gone, there wasn’t anyplace to sit. They’d all filed into the Entry Hall by the same alphabetical order they’d been seated at for the dinner, but once they were there, Burke beckoned to Spirit, and she saw that Loch and Addie were standing with him. Muirin joined them a few minutes later, looking—as usual—as if she were getting away with something. About half the other kids had shuffled around, too—maybe Oakhurst wouldn’t care if you had friends on Christmas Day—but most of them still looked as if they were trying to pretend they didn’t know anyone here. Conversation was kept to a subdued murmur.

That conversation died out completely with the entrance of Doctor Ambrosius. He was flanked by his assistants, Ms. Corby and Mr. Devon. Doctor Ambrosius looked like a venerable old college professor, white beard, flowing white hair, tweed jacket with leather elbow patches, and all. Ms. Corby and Mr. Devon looked—well, like bodyguards. Bored bodyguards. Ms. Corby was one of the few non-magicians here at Oakhurst. She was Doctor Ambrosius’s personal assistant. Mr. Devon was also the supervisor of the Boys’ Dorm Wing. Or, as they called them here at Oakhurst, “Young Gentlemen.”

Doctor Ambrosius—and his bodyguards—walked over to stand in front of the fireplace. He gazed out at them for a moment, then cleared his throat meaningfully. Absolute silence descended.

“We are here to celebrate the end of another calendar year here at Oakhurst,” he said, in a voice as smooth and reassuring as a documentary narrator on Discovery Channel. “Some of you haven’t been with us long, and some are extended residents, but all of you are part of the Oakhurst family. Indeed, following the deaths of your parents, Oakhurst is your family now.”

He beamed at all of them, but the moment his gaze had gone to another part of the room, Loch leaned over