Darke Academy 4: Lost Spirits (6 page)

Cassie rolled her eyes. ‘You don’t say.’

His wry half-smile told her he accepted that rebuke. ‘Or, more accurately, we were too trusting. We – I – misjudged Brigitte Svensson, and underestimated her propensity for evil. A few months later I heard she was hunting for the artefacts, hoping to secure them and keep them safe; she’d used her Council influence to access and decode the half-manuscript. That news set my alarm bells ringing. I didn’t know why, and I didn’t know how long she’d been searching, but it suddenly seemed tremendously important to get to them first. I started to do the research I should have done before – to search for the second half of the manuscript, and through it to locate the Knife and the Urn.’

‘But you didn’t find them, did you?’

‘Not all of them. I didn’t discover the location of the Knife and the Pendant for many years, but by a stroke of luck as much as hard graft, I worked out where the Urn was. It seemed as if the Fates favoured me, because the Academy was moving to Mexico City the following term – and I hadn’t even planned that, believe it or not. So I decided to wait. I had no reason to believe Brigitte had found out what I had, and it seemed sensible to arouse no suspicion. It was sensible, but it was next to impossible.’

Cassie could imagine that. If it had been her, she was pretty sure she couldn’t have waited so long once she knew where the Urn was.

‘I arranged a research sabbatical for myself early in the new term. I knew I’d need an assistant, so as soon as everyone had settled in, I offered to take a particularly gifted Few student with me on the trip.’

‘Erik Ragnarsson,’ said Cassie flatly.

He raised his eyebrows, surprised, then nodded. ‘But of course. His roommate was Patrick Malone, your guardian. So you know what happened?’

‘The basics.’ Cassie leaned forward expectantly.

‘I trusted Erik with my life and all my knowledge. I had no intention of keeping the real purpose of our trip from him, so I explained, and he understood.’ Sir Alric rubbed his face tiredly. ‘He was such a promising student.’

‘But he died. He died because you found the Urn.’

‘Yes.’ He gave her a direct, sober stare. ‘I never intended him to touch the thing, but I should have anticipated how the Urn would work. He was first to lay eyes on it, and I still remember his extraordinary elation. As I considered how to approach it, and retreated to consult the manuscript, he disobeyed me, and retrieved it himself.’

Cassie bit her lip. ‘Why didn’t he wait?’

He shrugged. ‘Who knows? It was so uncharacteristic of Erik, I can only assume that something besides the Curse that was cast on each of the artefacts was at play. Perhaps if I’d been the one to spot the Urn first, I could have resisted its spell far better than poor Erik.’

‘Or maybe not,’ said Cassie dryly. ‘And if you’d touched the Urn first, the Curse would have struck you. And I hate to think where
that
would have led, with a spirit as powerful as yours.’ She shuddered, remembering the look in Ranjit’s eyes when he was under the Pendant’s curse at the Hagia Sophia.

‘That’s true,’ Sir Alric said. ‘And I dread to think of it too. If you’d known Erik, you’d understand what a shock it was. To see him go in an instant from a gentle, intelligent boy to a murderous, brutal … monster, is the only word. There was almost nothing of Erik left.’

Cassie swallowed.
Almost nothing of him left
…

But Ranjit
had
regained himself. Ranjit had escaped the Curse, she’d made sure of that. He’d regained his sanity, she knew that when she saw him for that last time in Istanbul. But how must he feel now as he went on the run, lost and alone, knowing what he had done?

No
. She couldn’t let herself think about it. She’d find him – she’d help him. But first things first. She returned to the conversation. ‘And what about the landslide that killed Erik?’

Sir Alric gave an exhausted sigh. ‘There was no landslide. I tried to restrain him every way I knew how. I thought I was strong, but I was nothing compared to Erik with a Few Curse on him. I had to kill him, Cassie. I had to kill the brightest and best of my students, and I have never forgiven myself for it.’

There was genuine pain on Sir Alric’s face, and it was such an alien sight Cassie had to look away. ‘But you took the Urn,’ she said softly.

‘Yes. The Curse spent itself on Erik, and it would have seemed a waste of all that had happened if I’d left it where it was – unsafe, un-cursed, and there for Brigitte to find whenever she finally worked it out. I couldn’t leave it. I took it back to the Academy, kept it safe – but I never did find the other artefacts.’

Cassie raised her eyebrows. ‘But they were found.’

‘Brigitte must have had some access to the contents of the first half of the manuscript, before I discovered it myself. It was her daughter Katerina who tracked down the Knife in Cambodia, but she must have allowed Keiko to retrieve it, to touch it first. Clever of her, and malicious. Keiko was never quite my favourite student, but the way the Knife affected her …’ He shrugged. ‘I wish I had realised sooner what the Svenssons were up to.’

Cassie rose and paced the room, thinking. ‘So what did Brigitte
want
with the artefacts? Did you ever find out? I can understand her wanting the Knife – I’ve seen what it can do to other Few – and I see the point of the Pendant, too. It sort of …’ She hesitated, clearing her throat. ‘It sort of allowed Ranjit to have a similar power to me, projecting his spirit’s power outside of himself. But why would she want the Urn? The Eldest made that so he could feed from other spirits. That’s a weird thing to want to do, and surely only he could do it, as the Eldest. It’s not as if Brigitte ever goes hungry – she can overpower a normal human no problem.’ And more besides. Cassie shuddered, remembering the horror of the Living Soil she’d encountered in New York, and the human beings Brigitte had imprisoned there, buried alive for her pleasure.

‘I don’t know why she wanted it,’ Sir Alric said. ‘But I’m as certain as I can be that I don’t want her to have it. The Urn, I believe, is the most dangerous artefact of them all.’

Cassie looked at him, alarmed. ‘Why?’

‘It’s more a feeling, an innate certainty, Cassie. But that feeling is borne out by the strength of the Curse that was laid on it. It seemed as though the Elders did
not
want anyone who found it to be sane enough to use it.’

There was a cold feeling in the pit of Cassie’s stomach. She could hardly imagine a Curse worse than the one that had struck Ranjit.

‘No wonder you were so angry,’ she murmured.

He furrowed his brow. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘When I let Ranjit get away with the Urn.’

‘Yes.’ He gave her a stern look. ‘Yes, I was angry. But it can’t be helped now. We just have to hope that Ranjit keeps it safe until he can be located. I don’t know precisely what the Urn can do, but it’s potentially a huge threat to the Few. And through them, to the rest of humanity.’

They were silent for a moment, each wrapped in their own thoughts. At last Cassie took her seat again, and looked up at him.

‘I have something to ask you.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘You, Cassie Bell, never seem to have anything to
ask
me. You tend to tell me.’

She gave a light shrug, and made herself hold his gaze. He remained standing. Clenching her fists below the table, she took a deep breath.

‘The Knife. The Pendant. You still have those. And you can use them to sever me from Estelle.’

He stared at her as if, frankly, it was Cassie who was mad. ‘What I
can
do and what I
will
do, Miss Bell, are not the same thing at all.’

She stood up, walked closer to him, and leaned her fists on the desk for support. ‘You told me it wasn’t possible. It
is
. It’s what Ranjit had hoped to do when he did what he did – when he went after the artefacts and ended up being cursed by the Pendant. And it’s my decision, not yours!’

‘That’s where you’re wrong. I’m sorry, Cassie, but I’ve told you this before. My responsibility is to your spirit as much as it is to you. And I will not destroy a Few spirit for your convenience.’

‘My …
convenience
?’ She gaped at him, feeling rage begin to rise inside her. ‘Did anyone consider my convenience when they foisted the old bat on me?’

‘You know precisely how much I regret that. And yet I still won’t reverse it at Estelle’s cost. Cassie.’ He faced her properly, leaning on the opposite side of the desk. ‘You know what I want, and what your spirit wants. It makes so much more sense than this half-life for both of you.
Allow Estelle to enter you completely
, and most of your problems will be solved.’

Rage choked her throat. ‘Except the fact that while I’m Few, friends of mine end up dead, or drained, or mad? Except for that?’

‘Cassie. You make a fine member of the Few, and I admit I was wrong in my original opinions regarding your suitability for this life. If I can change my opinions, can you not adjust yours? You know there are many fine individuals in the Few, along with the rogues.’

‘If I’m Few, I can never be with Ranjit. You said it yourself!’

‘It’s most unlikely you’ll ever be with him anyway,’ he said dismissively. ‘And we’ve all made sacrifices. Accept your destiny, Cassie! Why wouldn’t you? It is a fine one, it is an honour!’

Cassie guffawed. ‘It may be a
fine
one,’ she retorted, ‘but it isn’t what I
want
. I won’t do it.’

He sighed. ‘I will convince you, Cassie. I
will
, because there’s no alternative. I will not condemn Estelle to death or the void.’

Something stirred inside her that wasn’t anger. Something that was half her, but half not: it was, of course, Estelle. Cassie could sense the spirit’s hope and happiness at hearing Sir Alric defend her.

Yes! Yes, my dear Cassandra, he’s right!

Damn them both!

‘You are wasting your time! Your time – my time –
Estelle’s
time! I will
not
join with her! If you’re so worried about it, find her another host. I want rid of her!’ The rage was a coruscating thing in her chest, his blank refusal like fuel on a fire. Around her, the room had begun to turn red as the mist of Few-rage descended. Her eyes burned with it.

‘You know better by now!’ Sir Alric’s shout of cold anger brought her momentarily back to her senses. ‘No, Cassie, you will control yourself as I’ve taught you.’

Breathing hard, she blinked the fire from her eyes. Her trembling limbs began to still as her beating heart calmed.

‘No,’ she growled at last. ‘I won’t lose control. I won’t use this
power
that was forced on me, which you think I should be happy about. But I will
not
do what you want. Not ever.’ She stood up, tall and defiant. ‘So you’d better think of something else, Sir Alric. And fast. I don’t want this sprit inside me any more.’

The headmaster did not speak for a long time. He walked behind his desk and slid open a drawer, removing a file and flicking through it. Cassie wasn’t sure if he was doing something constructive or simply playing for time.

‘Sit down, Cassie.’ He sat down and gestured at the chair opposite his own.

‘No thanks.’

He took a breath, but clearly decided not to argue further. His fingers trembled slightly as he flicked through documents, finally pulling one out and laying it on top of the pile.

‘The Urn.’ He pressed his fingertips on the desk and looked up at her, his eyes granite-hard. ‘It was created by the Eldest as an evil kind of feeding-trough. He would preserve other spirits in it, and feed on them.’

‘Yes,’ she said impatiently. ‘I told you, I know that part.’

‘Its original purpose means it has a separate, unintended function. The Urn can contain spirits indefinitely, and not just for feeding. It preserves them in their out-of-body state. Do you see?’

‘Yes …’

‘It could preserve Estelle’s, until another host is found.’

Cassie was silenced as thoughts raced round her skull. Of course,
of course
. How could she have forgotten that function of the Urn? It had been what Ranjit intended when he stole the evil thing. The solution was so simple, so elegant. ‘But that’s … that’s ideal! It’s perfect!’

‘Not exactly.’ Darke’s lips thinned. ‘We aren’t actually in possession of the Urn. If you recall.’

Cassie nodded, silent for once. Another in the mounting list of reasons she needed to find Ranjit. ‘I … I can find him,’ she said, her voice quieter now.

‘Is that so, Cassie?’ He closed the file with a snap. ‘Do you know something I do not? Have you heard from Ranjit?’

She shook her head, and Sir Alric raised an eyebrow.

‘Honestly, I wish I had,’ she said. ‘But I will, I know I can get to him if only he’d … I can do this. I’ll track Ranjit down, and the Urn, and then we’ll do exactly what you say. Everyone’s happy.’

‘No.’

She stiffened. ‘No?’

‘Do you think it will be so easy to find him? In the state in which he left, after all that he has done? What makes you so sure he would want to be found by you? Perhaps, at last, he may have heeded my warnings about the two of you being together.’

Bastard, she thought. She had to restrain herself from saying it out loud.

‘I’m sure,’ she said quietly. ‘Perhaps you don’t because maybe you’ve never been in love. I’m
sure
.’

Sir Alric studied her for a moment before he spoke again. ‘I have been trying to locate Ranjit myself. I’ve used every resource available to me. Last month I tracked him as far as Belgium; that’s where the trail went cold. But I assure you,
I
will find him.
You
, on the other hand, should not even try. It’s too dangerous – and frankly, so are you. I have influential Few contacts, and this has to be done with subtlety and guile, not a fist in anyone’s face.’ His gaze softened. ‘Put it out of your head, Cassie. Let me deal with it. After that, we can see what happens. And that is my condition for considering this solution.’

She watched his face, thinking furiously, her fingernails tapping rapidly on the desk. At last she pushed herself up and away from it.