Sacrifices Read online

  “Bread and circuses.” It was Mom’s voice in her head (Mom’d had a saying for every occasion), reminding Spirit once again of things she didn’t want to know. Reminding her that a lot of people, most people, would rather think about bread and circuses (toys and games and music and dancing) than confront a reality they were afraid they couldn’t change (just ignore the fact everyone you know is vanishing one by one).

  But we’re kids! she cried silently. This shouldn’t be our job! We shouldn’t have to face this!

  But it was, because there wasn’t anyone else. Mom had loved Westerns. High Noon was one of her favorites. Spirit had never understood why—she knew why Gary Cooper faced the bad guys, but she’d never really understood why nobody joined him.

  Now she did.

  You’d better get some sleep, she told herself. Everything will look worse in the morning.

  She made herself a cup of chamomile tea, and left it to steep while she went and took a long hot shower. By the time she came out, it was strong enough to have some taste. She squirted a little agave nectar into it and took the cup to bed with her. She curled up against the headboard, and concentrated on the warmth of the cup in her hands.

  The bedroom door opened.

  Spirit jolted upright with a startled squeak, but before she could do more than that, she recognized Muirin. Muirin closed the door quickly and quietly behind her, and strode across the room.

  “You’ve got mail!” Muirin sang out cheerfully, tossing an envelope down on the bed. “Which is, I have to admit, kind of weird because you’re an orphan and who’d know to write you at the drop box in town?”

  “How’d you get in here?” Spirit asked, setting aside the mug and picking up the envelope. It was a plain 9x12 envelope, with her name and the P.O. Box typed onto an address label. No return address, and the postmark was too blurry to make out.

  “Through the door,” Muirin said, smirking. “Funny thing, but your watchdogs have taken a vacation. Somebody spiked the coffee urn in the Faculty Lounge. You know, the one all the security guys hit up all night?” Muirin sat down on the bed, reached for Spirit’s mug, sipped, and made a face.

  “I hope they poisoned it,” Spirit said savagely.

  Muirin grinned at her. “Better. A big dose of laxative. Nobody’s paying a lot of attention to being guards tonight.”

  Despite herself, Spirit laughed. The despairing anger she’d felt all evening evaporated as if she’d never felt it, and she began working the flap of the envelope open.

  “So, since nobody was paying any attention to enforcing curfew, I went down to town to mail my letters,” Muirin continued. “I did one to the IRS, too, telling them all about how Mark Rider hasn’t been paying his taxes and I hope he’s audited until the heat death of the universe—and anyway, while I was there I checked the old drop box, kind of on a whim because hey, it’s not like any of the dead kids is going to be writing to their friends at school, and—”

  Muirin broke off as Spirit got the envelope open and shook it. There wasn’t a letter—just several sheets of MapQuest printouts. And an oak leaf, as fresh and green as if this were June and not March.

  Oak leaf. Oak tree. QUERCUS.

  “So what’s that?” Muirin asked.

  “A message,” Spirit answered. “A message from a friend. And maybe a place to hide.”

  Muirin got to her feet. She had that slanty look on her face, the one Spirit knew meant Muirin was pretending not to care about being shut out. She turned to go. “Okay. Fine. See you at the dance.”

  “No—wait.” Spirit leaned forward and grabbed Muirin’s arm. “I’ve got something to tell you—about this. It’s a long story.”

  “I guess I’ve got time,” Muirin said neutrally. She sat back down, her face unreadable.

  Spirit took a deep breath. She knew Muirin was on their side, not the Shadow Knights’, but she was afraid that Muirin wasn’t as sneaky as Muirin thought she was. “Three people can keep a secret if two of them don’t know it,” Mom’s voice said in her head. And even one person couldn’t keep a secret if somebody was using magic to get at it.

  But all along QUERCUS had told her to trust, and he’d always been right. And he’d sent his message by way of Muirin. That had to be a sign.

  “Okay. You remember that trip we took to Billings, right? And you had me hold the thumb drives you bought? Well—”

  Slowly, skipping back and forth in the story to be sure she was telling Muirin everything, Spirit told her about finding the Ironkey drive, thinking it must be one of Muirin’s purchases, tossing it into a drawer and forgetting about it for days, finding it again when she needed a thumb drive to save a class assignment so she could take it to the Media Center and use the printer, plugging it in, and … meeting QUERCUS for the first time.

  “—and he warned me against going to Doctor Ambrosius for help—back when we thought Doctor Ambrosius was Merlin—but QUERCUS didn’t tell me why. And then we found out Doctor Ambrosius wasn’t Merlin, and that night, when I went back to my room, it’d been ripped apart. They had to have been looking for the Ironkey; that has to be why they searched everybody’s room a couple of days later and moved us all around. Anyway, when I could finally get back online, I told QUERCUS what we’d found out, and … he wasn’t surprised. Like, at all. And he said he’d contact me. And this is it.” She waved the sheets of paper.

  A map. Directions. To where?

  “The guy’s calling himself ‘Oak Tree’ and you trust him?” Muirin asked skeptically.

  “I know it’s freaky,” Spirit said. “That’s the real reason I didn’t tell any of you about him. I mean, you’re the first person I’ve told.”

  “Really?” Muirin asked. “Not even Burke? I’m the first one?” She seemed to glow, and Spirit realized that Muirin smiled a lot, but she rarely looked really happy. Not the way she looked right now—as if Spirit had given her the most wonderful gift in the world.

  “No one else,” Spirit confirmed. “And I think … I think this map will lead us to a place we can be safe.”

  “And avert the Apocalypse,” Muirin finished. “Cool.”

  “Muirin, would it be okay if we just don’t tell anybody else about QUERCUS?” Spirit said hesitantly. “I’ll tell everybody everything as soon as we’re out of here.”

  “Hey, I never want to tell anybody anything,” Muirin said happily. “Fine with me.” She frowned for a moment, thinking. “We’ll need to leave from the Dance.”

  “What?” Spirit said. She hadn’t thought as far as how they’d leave, or when. “But—”

  “But,” Muirin interrupted ruthlessly, “the Dance is going to be the only time Breakthrough drops its guard and lets everybody get together in a big mob. There’ll be a bunch of Townies there, too, so they probably can’t do anything majorly magical. I know at least some of the Macalister kids are going to be driving up, so the road between here and Radial will be clear. So here’s what we’ll do. I’ll park my car in with theirs and we’ll bail as soon as we can. We’ll all be stuck in our Shadow Knight haute couture—at least you guys will be; I have no intention of wearing that froofy piece of garbage Madison thinks will look good on me, thank you so much—but I can sneak spare clothes out and hide them in the back. Just leave what you want to wear on your bed; I’ll pass the word to the other guys.”

  “Just as long as I don’t have to save the world in high heels,” Spirit said shakily. She pushed her hair back out of her face with both hands. Everything was happening so fast: in just a few minutes she’d gone from knowing the five of them finally had somewhere to go, to knowing they were going to leave Oakhurst, to knowing they were going tomorrow. “But Muirin—every single dance, you know there’s—”

  “—been something horrible happening,” Muirin finished. “And you think if we stuck around until it happens, we could maybe help. And that’s stupid. If we don’t get out of here and find your mysterious benefactor, something a lot worse than the Stephen King Memorial Prom is going to
happen to millions of people. Besides,” Muirin added with an irrepressible grin. “Us bailing might distract them enough so they don’t do whatever it is.”

  “Oh my god I hope,” Spirit said feelingly.

  “Hey,” Muirin said. “We’re escaping from the Evil Overlord’s stronghold in prom dresses. What can possibly go wrong?”

  * * *

  “Is this the Halloween dance?” Burke said as he and Spirit stopped outside the door to the gym.

  The doors were chocked open; it was the school-side entrance to the gym. The Townies were coming in through the side entrance nearest the parking, so they were coming through the main building as well, but Breakthrough Security staff—wearing dark suits tonight, instead of their black uniforms—were stationed along the route to act as valets and guides. And make sure nobody goes wandering anywhere they shouldn’t, Spirit thought sourly. Guests had been arriving for the past half hour, and the gym was already crowded—it looked as if most of the Radial kids had arrived, and Burke and Spirit weren’t the first of the Oakhurst students to get there—but somehow even with all the noise and people (because of course Breakthrough had provided a professional DJ) the gym still managed to look empty and menacing.

  Even though Spirit had known Breakthrough was going to do whatever it wanted, the décor should still have been … spring-like. The Spring Fling theme was “Enchanted Forest,” and they had an Enchanted Forest, all right—but an Enchanted Forest right out of the Brothers Grimm. It was breathtaking—the forest was painted onto dozens of transparent scrim panels—and the whole backdrop looked almost alive. But there were shadowy figures lurking among the trees—only paintings, but anything could really be behind those panels, and the longer you stared at them, the more you started to think there might be.

  “This isn’t even the theme we decided on,” Spirit said blankly. “It’s like they want to scare all of us to death.” Those shadowy not-figures painted on the gauze just made her want to keep turning in a circle, trying to keep her eye on all of them. And how could other people not be feeling the same way?

  “Yeah, well, that’s nothing new,” Burke said in disgust. “C’mon.”

  She took his arm and they walked into the gym. The future was terrifying and the present was horrible, but being able to walk into the Spring Fling with Burke was one bright spot in all this, like a window into what she wanted as her real life.

  If she lived that long.

  Burke led her in the direction of the refreshments table. The Dance Committee hadn’t even bothered to plan the refreshments, and of course Breakthrough had taken care of everything. There was a huge ice sculpture of the Breakthrough logo in the middle of the table (so tacky, Spirit sniped mentally) with blue lights frozen into the ice. The effect was particularly creepy. In addition to the buckets of soda, and what looked like every snack food in the known universe, there was a huge sheet cake decorated to look like the box for Final Battle: Rise of the Black Dragon, and Spirit spotted tables around the edges of the gym holding stacks of the game as well. Despite the fact she saw black armbands on the kids from Radial, everybody seemed to have forgotten about the deaths—or was willing to forget about them for tonight.

  She pulled Burke to a halt before they reached the table, and leaned up so she could talk to him without shouting. Shouting right now would be a very bad idea.

  “We’re leaving Oakhurst tonight. All five of us. I’ll explain once we’re out of here.”

  This was the first chance she’d had to talk to any of them privately since the message from QUERCUS had arrived. She had the maps inside her dress—the tight bodice would hold them securely. The Ironkey was tucked into her bra, and tied to one of the straps, just to be safe.

  “When?” Burke asked.

  He didn’t ask anything else. It was almost as if he’d expected this. Maybe he had. Maybe Muirin had warned him. Spirit had wanted to leave telling everyone until the dance itself so they wouldn’t give anything away, even accidentally, but …

  “As soon as we can. I need to tell Loch and Addie. Muirin knows.”

  Burke looked around the gym, scanning the crowd. “Then I guess I’d better dance with Addie, and you’d better dance with Loch. C’mon. I see them,” Burke said.

  Navigating across the gym was tricky—it was early, and the music was hot, and Spirit was jostled several times before Burke had her just follow him. Nobody wanted to get in the way of somebody Burke’s size. Finally, through a gap in the dancers, Spirit spotted Loch and Addie standing together in a corner.

  Addie was wearing a dress in a dark amber velvet. It was studded with gold brilliants, and every time she moved, she looked like she was on fire. Loch was slouched beside her, leaning against the wall, his hands stuffed into his pockets. Like Burke, he was wearing the outfit Madison had chosen for him. Burke’s was a tuxedo, traditional in everything but the color, a very dark brown. The dress shirt with it was a dark cream color. Loch had been put into a dark blue formal suit with satin lapels and cuffs. He was wearing a collarless shirt in pale gray, without a tie.

  “—honestly, Loch, all this place needs is some flying monkeys and a haunted castle,” Addie was saying when Spirit got close enough to hear.

  “Haven’t you been paying attention? This place is a haunted—”

  “Hi!” Burke said loudly, with utterly bogus cheerfulness. “Let’s dance!” He took Addie’s hand with firm decisiveness, and dragged her out onto the dance floor in the middle of the song.

  “You too,” Spirit said. Her throat was dry with nervousness.

  Loch bowed ironically and offered her his arm. He led her out into the middle of the dancers. This wasn’t a slow dance, but Spirit draped herself over Loch anyway.

  “I swear, this doesn’t look like a dance, it looks like a rollout party,” Loch said with disgust. Then, in an undertone fraught with tension, he added, “You don’t suppose they’ve played a diversion on us, and whatever hell is coming is going down somewhere else tonight? Maybe … Maybe it’s about all the kids that have been getting tested and disappearing?”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’ll explain everything later,” Spirit said. “We’re leaving tonight—from the dance—as soon as I find Muirin. Burke’s telling Addie.”

  “Spirit—” Suddenly Loch looked more than worried. He looked stricken. “They bumped Muirin up in the testing order. Angelina Swanson came and pulled her out of Calculus this afternoon. She probably won’t be here at all.”

  “Oh god,” Spirit choked out. Muirin hadn’t been at dinner, but that wasn’t unusual. If she’d thought about it at all, she’d assumed Muirin was making their last-minute preparations while everybody was safely out of the way. Could they go find her? Where was she? They couldn’t go without her.…

  “Wait!” Loch said.

  He was looking toward the school-side entrance. Spirit followed his gaze.

  It was Muirin.

  She was clinging to Doc Mac’s arm. They were both trying to make it look casual, but it was obvious he was the only thing holding her up. She looked greenish-pale, and the dark smudges under her eyes had nothing to do with makeup. Spirit didn’t think she was wearing any. The dress she was wearing couldn’t be one of Madison’s choices—it was black lamé and incredibly too old for her. Spirit saw her lurch and stagger, and only Doc Mac’s grip on her arm kept her from falling.

  “Muirin!” Spirit cried.

  She pushed through the crowd, shoving people out of her way as she headed for Muirin. She was about halfway there when Muirin saw her. She dragged Doc Mac to a stop, hauling on his arm to keep herself upright. Her other hand was clenched into a fist. She brought it up and made a throwing motion. The keys to the Xterra came flying through the air. Spirit snatched them without thought. Her eyes were fixed on Muirin’s face. Muirin mouthed one word:

  Run.

  Loch had seen what Spirit saw. He stuck two fingers into his mouth and whistled shrilly. It was loud enough to cut through the music and elicit a chorus of wol
f-whistles and cat-calls from the other kids. Before Spirit could react—or look for Burke and Addie—Loch grabbed her wrist and dragged her toward the doors to the outside. By the time they approached them, Spirit was running ahead. She hit the crash bar and bounced off.

  She thought for an instant they were stuck, but as she yanked at the crash bar, the doors rocked inward a little, and she could see they were chained from the outside.

  Then Loch grabbed her around the waist and swung her around. Her shoes skidded on the wooden floor, and she flailed for balance. Burke was heading toward the doors at a dead run.

  Across the dance floor, Spirit could see Security—at least a dozen people—run into the gym. She heard screams as the dancers saw the guns. She couldn’t see Muirin now.

  Burke didn’t slow down as he reached the doors. He ducked his shoulder—as if he were on the football field—and hit them at full speed. The chain snapped with a ringing sound and the doors crashed open. Burke charged through, with Addie right behind him.

  “Muirin!” Spirit screamed, but she ran after the others. She was the only one who knew where they were going. She slipped and skidded on a patch of ice, but the grueling combat courses had been some use after all: she kept her balance. Burke cut sharply left, heading along the side of the gym, then left again at the corner and back toward the front of the mansion, where the guest parking was. As soon as Spirit caught sight of the cars she slowed just enough to wave the chirp-tag on Muirin’s keys in front of her, pressing the button over and over until one of the cars lit up and unlocked.

  Addie reached the car first; Burke had stopped to watch Spirit and Loch come on. Burke waited until they passed him to turn and follow.

  “Where’s Muirin? I don’t know how to drive!” Spirit screamed as she reached the car. Both doors were open; Loch was climbing into the back seat.