Legacies (Mercedes Lackey) - By Mercedes Lackey Page 0,19

goofus,” Burke retorted good-naturedly. “Weren’t you listening to Spirit? Just because we can do something, that doesn’t mean we should.” He rubbed the back of his head broodingly. “Besides, all that would happen to me if I went out and became Captain America or something is that the Army’d probably grab me and try to figure out how to make more guys like me. Which isn’t going to happen, but I’d never see the light of day again.”

“I knew you weren’t as dumb as you look, Burkesey,” Muirin replied, mollified. “Hey. Did anyone hear anything more about whether we’re having a Halloween dance or not?”

In a lot of ways, the change of subject was a tremendous relief. Spirit didn’t particularly like thinking about this magical power she was supposed to have. It made her feel as if everything in the world was just a thin skin stretched over a reality that was too scary to contemplate for very long.

The discussion of a Halloween dance—Halloween was a little less than two months from now—occupied everyone until one of the older students showed up to tell them the lounges were closing. He wore an armband with a badge on it that Burke said made him something called a “proctor.” You could become a proctor once you were eighteen, and they did a lot of stuff that had to do with running the school, and when they were wearing their armbands you had to do what they said the same as if they were one of the teachers.

In the hallway outside the Refectory—Spirit had finally remembered what it was called—they split up, boys going one way, girls going the other. Apparently the lounges closed half an hour before you had to be back in your room—she didn’t have a wristwatch, and she wondered if she could get one here—so there were a lot of kids drifting back to their rooms. Addie and Muirin had rooms on the second floor, so they took the stairs to the second floor, leaving Spirit to make her way back to her room on her own.

“It’ll be the one without a nameplate on it,” Muirin told her helpfully. “Just keep opening doors until you find it.”

“Check your computer,” Addie added. “Your class schedule will be on it.”

Spirit nodded, and walked off down the hall. One of the other girls from the lounge—Camilla, Spirit remembered, the girl who said her power was Transformation—was on the first floor, too.

She said she’d lived at Oakhurst for three years, and that it was a lot nicer than the place she’d come from. “You grow up in a Florida trailer park sharing a beat-up doublewide with half a dozen sproggs and your Mom and your no-account brother and his girlfriend and their brats, and a place like this is going to look damned good to you, even if they are a little touched in the head,” Camilla said, setting her jaw. “Didn’t help none that they was—were always trying to beat the Devil out of me either.” She smiled a little sadly.

“I’m sorry,” Spirit said. What else could she say?

“Not that I’m not sorry they’ve passed,” Camilla said. “But I was sure as heck glad that Oakhurst came along before I ended up going on the county. And here you are,” she added, pushing open the door. “You’ll have a nameplate on it by tomorrow, and then you won’t get lost anymore. Mine’s right down the hall. Camilla Patterson, if you need anything. Don’t worry too much about the demerits—they go easy on you the first week.”

“Thanks,” Spirit said. She pushed open her door and stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

Following Adelaide’s advice, the first thing she did was check her computer. A tap on the spacebar cleared the screen-saver—it was the school coat of arms again, only now it was rotating—and sure enough, the e-mail icon was blinking. She sat down in her chair and clicked on it. It prompted her for her password, and she had a moment of panic before she remembered what Muirin had said, and typed in her birthdate: 070895.

There were only two e-mails. One was pretty much the same orientation that Muirin and Adelaide had walked her through, with a reminder to read through the Oakhurst Code of Conduct for more information. The other was her class schedule. It looked pretty standard: Science and Math and English and History and Physical Education—and (of course, since this was apparently Hogwarts West) Grammery. Her schedule was organized like