Conspiracies (Mercedes Lackey) - By Mercedes Lackey Page 0,80

her. She paused in the hall, trying to remember which way Elizabeth’s room was. Before she could remember, she heard footsteps and a flashlight shone in her face.

“Spirit, what are you doing out here?” Kelly Langley demanded.

“I thought I heard something.” Lame, but it was the only thing she could think of. “Like someone dropped something out here.”

Kelly panned her flashlight around the hallway, which was, of course, empty and clean. “You were having a nightmare or something,” Kelly said firmly. “Go back to bed. Now.”

There wasn’t exactly a choice. Spirit nodded, and went back into her room. She thought about trying an e-mail to Elizabeth, but … well, probably not a good idea. Besides, Kelly was probably waiting outside the door to make sure her light went out. With a sigh, she got back into bed and turned it off.

Fat chance getting any more sleep tonight.

* * *

“Merlin. And Arthur.” Burke shook his head. “It sounds like a bad fantasy movie.”

“Or a manga, or an animé, they’ve got plots that screwy,” Muirin said. “Ha. Park Place, Addie. Pay up. Seriously, Liz needs to market herself to Japan, they’d eat that kind of thing up with a spoon.”

“I know but…” Spirit had woken up this morning with the conviction that, as utterly unbelievable as it had all sounded, that was exactly the reason why it must be true. If Elizabeth had been making something up, she surely would have gone for a story that was a lot more plausible.

“Look, Spirit, if it makes you feel any better, how about if I go find her?” Burke asked. “I’ll go get her right now, we can talk to her, and we’ll—” he paused. “Not interrogate her, but if she really made all this stuff up, unless she’s psycho, we can probably point out enough holes to make her admit it.”

“It’s already got more holes than Swiss cheese,” Muirin muttered.

“No, I’ll go,” Addie said, getting up. “I’m almost out of Monopoly Money anyway, what with Moneybags Muirin there owning every property on the board that I land on. If she’s in her room, you couldn’t go there anyway, Burke. I’ll try there first.”

But Addie came back only five minutes later, and she had a very strange look on her face.

“What?” Spirit demanded.

“She’s gone.” Addie shook her head. “I mean, completely. The name tag is gone from her door, the room’s been cleaned out. And there wasn’t any announcement or anything—”

“Well, there’s your proof she was delusional, Spirit,” Muirin said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I bet Kelly caught her wandering the hall looking for Excalibur, sent her to Doc Mac, and he shipped her away. I mean, think about it. Mark Rider said we’re under attack, and the last thing you want here is someone damaged like that. She wouldn’t be safe here, and who knows what she’d do if she decided she didn’t like the protections? And there wasn’t an announcement because—well, who’d care? It’s not like she had any friends.”

Spirit was more than a little shocked by Muirin’s callousness, but … if Muir was right, then … well, Muir was right. Poor Elizabeth was safer somewhere else, and Oakhurst was safer without her. But …

If Muirin was wrong … had the Shadow Knights found Elizabeth, just as she had feared they would? Was everything she had said, crazy as it sounded, actually true?

* * *

The next day, all classes were canceled while the new schedules were made up—but that didn’t mean they were free. In fact, they were even less free. Divided into groups—and, of course, none of the five of them was in the same group—they were tested in every way possible. A battery of physical tests—not just physical fitness: Their reflexes were tested and timed, their proficiency in anything like a martial art underwent the scrutiny of Anastus Ovcharenko and his two underlings—were interspersed with academic tests. By the time the day was over, Spirit was too tired even to think, and she wasn’t the only one. The Refectory that night was extremely quiet, people dully shoving food into their mouths as if they were too tired to taste it. Even Muirin was too tired to complain.

“I’m going straight to bed,” she announced as she got up from the table. “Thank God there’s no homework.”

Burke, who was sporting a fine crop of bruises as well as looking as if he had packed a hundred pounds up a mountain, nodded. “Me, too. Just check your e-mail; Mr. Krandal told