Conspiracies (Mercedes Lackey) - By Mercedes Lackey Page 0,52

to look at him. Of course, just like the rest of them, Andrew’s family was dead.… “There’s this thing after him, this huge, shadowy thing, and I’m trying to get to him to save him, only I can’t!”

One by one, Ms. Smith got them to tell her their nightmares. Even Spirit—though Spirit lied. She just buried her face in her hands and mumbled something about dark and evil eyes. She didn’t think it would be a good idea to stand out by not talking.

This had been going on for days now. Only about half of the class was spent on math. The other half was Ms. Smith and her not-exactly-interrogations. This was the first time she’d grilled them about their nightmares, though, and actually, this was the first time Spirit had heard that practically everyone was having them. If it hadn’t been that Spirit’s mom had taught her lucid dreaming back when she was a little kid and having night terrors, she’d probably be having them, too. But she wondered if Burke and the others were having the same problem. I could ask Loch. He’ll tell me, even if the others don’t.

Most of the time, Ms. Smith had been asking about the night of the dance, getting not only what everyone had experienced, but what they’d been doing and thinking before the lights went out. Definitely creepy … extracting details from the kids that Spirit was pretty sure they’d had no intention of telling any teacher. The sort of stuff you might put on your blog, for your friends, but not for anyone else. Certainly not for anyone old.

Spirit couldn’t figure out how Ms. Smith was doing it. Was it magic? Or was it just that she was really, really good at getting things out of people? At least there was only five minutes more of this before class change.

Is she like this with all her classes? Spirit wondered. Or is it just this one? She had thought about asking Addie or Loch, but … no, better wait. If she started acting suspicious of Ms. Smith without any reason except that—well, on the surface, it looked as if the teacher was actually trying to help everyone, and they might think she was being paranoid again.

Just a few more minutes …

Ms. Smith handed Mariana another wad of tissues and went back to her desk. “I don’t want any of you to think that we’re making light of this,” she said, raking her eyes over the whole class. “You’ve all had a nasty shock, and Dr. MacKenzie is of the opinion that this has brought up a great many things that were buried. I’m sure you’re all familiar with post-traumatic stress, right?” She looked them over again, and wasn’t satisfied until she’d seen each of them nod. “Dr. MacKenzie wants each of you to have at least one session with him. He wants to evaluate whether you’re going to get through this on your own, or need some extra help.”

Spirit repressed a groan, and she was pretty sure she heard muffled sighs and moans from some of the others, too. Another shrink … she’d had her fill of shrinks at the hospital. If she had her way, she’d never see another shrink again. She didn’t even know what this “Dr. MacKenzie” looked like; in the months she’d been here, she’d never seen him, not even at meals or the dances. Or at least, if she had, she hadn’t known who he was.

“I’ve got your assigned times right here,” Ms. Smith said, in that tone of voice that pretty much made it clear there was no point in arguing with her. She began handing out little envelopes, and Spirit took hers with a sinking heart. From the looks on the faces of some of the others, they felt the same.

* * *

From the buzz at supper, it looked like, sure enough, everyone had gotten the appointments. Some people were actually happy about it; Mariana for one. She really was in bad shape, her voice had a shrill edge that carried right across the Refectory. “Maybe he can give me something so I can sleep,” she was saying, and it was true that she did look pretty awful, big dark circles under her eyes, and her eyes red from crying, lack of sleep, or both. Austin Phillips, who was at her table, smirked. “If we’re going to get drugs out of this, it might not be all bad,” he said, loud enough that other