Conspiracies (Mercedes Lackey) - By Mercedes Lackey Page 0,61
because Addie would never have said it if it wasn’t true. So she asked, “How?” instead.
“Magic is a living force,” Loch pointed out. “It changes. How we use it changes. So the tools we use to manipulate it have to be able to change, too. Things like runes. You can’t rewrite them drastically, but you could take a protective spell that read, say, ‘all that shelter under my boughs,’ and by doing what we think Doctor Ambrosius did, the runes would change to read ‘all that shelter within my bounds.’ If he got specific about what he was protecting against—which would be smart—the runes would change to name those things.”
“So if we translate them, we can figure out who or what Ambrosius is defending us against, and if we know that, we can figure out how we can help—” That felt better. That felt proactive. Spirit realized in that moment that she was getting very tired of always waiting for something to happen before she could act.
Burke had been very quiet all this time. When they all finally stopped talking, he spoke into the momentary silence.
“We’ve gotten distracted by all this,” he said slowly, and waved his hand vaguely. “The runes, the history … even New Year’s … it’s distracted us from what’s really urgent.” Before any of them could ask him what he meant, he continued. “We still haven’t figured out who the inside man is. Who the one trying to kill us from inside the school is.” His jaw firmed. “The more I think about it, the more certain I am. There is someone in here, and it won’t matter squat how much we figure out and how we help Doctor A. guard against what’s outside, when we have someone right inside with us—”
He might have said more, but just then one of the proctors poked his head into the lounge and spotted them.
“All right, you dirty capitalists. Time to tally up your ill-gotten gains, figure out who won, and head for your rooms,” he called. “Fifteen minutes to lights out.”
With a sigh, Addie packed up the board that hadn’t been used all night, and they split up. Spirit only stopped long enough to tug on Burke’s elbow and hold him back a moment.
“Thanks,” she said, with feeling.
“For what?” he asked, looking both startled and gratified.
“For believing me. In me. That we’re still in danger.” She sighed. “I was beginning to feel as if none of you were ever going to see it.”
“Maybe it’s because I’m looking a little harder than the others,” Burke replied, smiling down into her eyes. “Spirit—”
“Hey!”
They both jumped, instinctively separating, and both stared guiltily at the door, where the proctor was shaking his head. “Rooms. Now.”
“Right,” Burke said, and hurried out the door. Spirit could only stare after him a moment, wondering what he had been about to say, before she followed Addie and Muirin back to the girls’ side.
* * *
The names still hadn’t been posted for the field trip, but a chance remark by Doc Mac had engendered—well, Spirit wasn’t sure what to call it. Other than tempting fate …
Although she hadn’t been there to hear it, evidently when one of the teachers had lamented the debacle of the New Year’s Dance, he had mentioned some Scottish celebration that happened the week after New Year’s that involved setting fire to a barrel of tar or a Viking ship, or both. “It’d give the kids something to get their minds off the bad experience,” he’d said, and for some reason the entire faculty had taken the idea and run away with it, combining this Scottish-Viking thing with the need to take down the Winter Carnival.
So now there was going to be a big nighttime gathering featuring a bonfire with a Viking ship on top of it, a competition to take down the ice-works fast (of course there had to be a competition, this was Oakhurst) and what wasn’t ice was to get tossed on the bonfire. The refreshments that didn’t get used New Year’s Eve had been thriftily saved or frozen; they were going to be served at this thing, along with grilled hot dogs and bratwurst. Muirin was already in heaven at the prospect.
Personally, Spirit thought this was a really dumb idea, not the least because it meant they were all going to have to go outside in the freezing cold, in the coldest part of the year, at night.