Sorry. I’ll cough loudly next time. But you were having such an interesting conversation with yourself, I didn’t like to interrupt.
I could feel the smile in the voice.
So, how was it?
We won.
I didn’t seriously consider any other outcome.
The Amritsar team were really good. It was close.
My guess was that my golden boy had swung it in the favour of his team.
Well done you.
Is it still OK for me to drop by?
His debate had been taking place in our school theatre over the other side of the campus across the rugby pitch. He didn’t have that far to come and find me.
I’m waiting up for you while trying to battle population statistics. They are winning. Come and rescue me.
Estimating he was about two minutes away, I got out a compact mirror to check I’d not done something Misty-ish, like scrawled on my nose with biro (it has been known as I chew pen tops and don’t always remember which way round I’m holding them). I angled the mirror to inspect my cheek and caught a glimpse of someone behind me.
‘Alex, how did you … ?’
But it wasn’t Alex. The journalist from the news conference stepped out from behind the shelf. I got the distinct impression he wouldn’t have emerged unless I had spotted him.
‘Sorry to disturb you.’ His voice was soft, oozing apology, but I wasn’t buying it. ‘I was looking for Alex du Plessis and I noticed he usually crops up where you happen to be.’
My heart thumped hard like the main stairs during lesson changeover. I quickly packed my folders away, not looking at him. ‘I don’t think you’re supposed to be in here.’
‘No worries. I have press accreditation.’ He came up to the table. I think he was holding out his badge, or maybe asking to shake hands—I wasn’t going to make eye contact. ‘My name is Eli Davis. I work for a paper in Los Angeles.’
‘What I meant was that this part of the school is nothing to do with the competition. It’s private. Pupils and staff only.’
‘Like that matters to you.’ He laughed but I didn’t sense any genuine humour. It sounded rather bitter. ‘I’ve seen you and Alex du Plessis walk through plenty of locked doors—how do you do that, by the way? Or should I say,
who
does that?’ Davis picked up the textbook from which I’d been working. ‘Funny. I would have expected a spell book in a place like this.’
‘I’m doing AS geography, Mr Davis, not living in a fantasy world.’ I held my bag to my chest, debating if I should just abandon my book. My eyes flicked to the door. I hated the idea that he’d been spying on us in our first fragile moments of being a couple.
‘Now then, no need to hurry away. I’ve spent days trying to talk to you and Alex. Don’t spoil it now I’ve got you alone for a few minutes.’
Alex, don’t come in here. That journalist has cornered me. Warn Uriel.
His reply zinged back like a boomerang.
You are joking, right? I’m not leaving you on your own with him.
A little beeping alarm went off. Davis pulled a device from his pocket, about the same size as a phone. ‘Interesting. You’re doing telepathy.’
‘That’s … ’ I was desperate to deny it but I couldn’t. I took a step towards the door but he slid into the gangway, blocking me in my study cubicle. ‘ … None of your business.’
He turned his device round so I could see the display. It showed an image like a bar chart. ‘I’ve had this tuned to measure psychic activity. Telepathy sends the levels way past normal and sets off the alarm. It almost got me thrown out of that first debate. I guessed your boy was cheating somehow, being in communication with someone outside the room. Was he talking to you?’
No, that had been Angel tweeting me. ‘You’re wrong. Alex doesn’t cheat when debating.’
‘But you don’t say he doesn’t use telepathy.’ He gave me a long look, trying to guess my secrets. ‘Now that I find fascinating as everyone else I’ve approached on this issue always denies it.’
That’s because everyone else can lie. ‘I don’t even know what psychic energy is so how do I know if your device works?’ No one knew exactly how our powers functioned.
‘I would very much enjoy sharing that with you, young lady, but first I need some answers of my own.’
I heard feet running up the stairs and then the door crashed open.
‘Ah, Alex! So delighted you could join us.’
He has a machine that detects telepathy.
The device beeped again.
‘A little predictable. I suppose she was telling you about this?’ Davis held up his sensor. ‘I call it a savant detector. That’s what you guys call yourselves, don’t you? The knowledgeable ones; rather big-headed, wouldn’t you say?’
Alex couldn’t reach me the normal way because Davis was blocking me in. He vaulted the study cubicle and put himself between the journalist and me.
‘Are you OK,
bokkie
?’ He put his arm around me.
‘I’ve had better study sessions.’ I dipped my head against his chest, before pulling away. I felt we should keep our full attention on what Davis was doing.
‘Alex, I hope you forgive me cornering you like this, but you are a very difficult person to get in to see.’ The journalist had the intent expression of a hunting dog scenting prey. His gaze was fixed between my soulfinder’s shoulder blades.
Alex didn’t even turn round to face Davis, his eyes still on me as if I were the only one in his world.
‘It’s rare to find a young savant unguarded these days. I’ve had immense problems following up my leads.’
Did you tell Uriel?
I asked.
The machine beeped.
Yes. He’s on his way.
‘Now that’s just rude, talking behind my back. Though I suppose it’s standard for savants.’ That was rich: Davis sounded aggrieved when it was he who was pushing himself upon us! ‘Exactly what my investigation is about: the abuse of power by a subgroup in society. You move among us without declaring your presence, manipulate the public so they don’t even notice, swing competitions, elections, promotions in your favour. You name it: your side does it. Someone has to bring your behaviour out into the open.’
‘Why?’ Alex asked coolly, though I could sense the tension inside him. With me in the room, he couldn’t persuade Davis out of his dangerous investigation, but he sounded more calm than I was about this interrogation.
‘Why? Because you are undermining democracy, of course! I just heard you very eloquently demolish democracy as a form of government, arguing instead for the rule of a benevolent and well-informed elite.’
Alex turned. ‘Is that what this is about? You mustn’t mix up debating positions with the truth, Mr Davis. I believe democracy is the best of the imperfect forms of governing available but if I had said that we’d be out of the competition. I don’t think you get the point of a contest like this if you think we all believe what we say.’
But Davis wasn’t open to reason. ‘I had my doubts before today. It goes far beyond you, boy. The last election was manipulated by your secret society to put their man in the White House. His career will be over when I reveal him for who he really is.’
I had never heard that the president of America was a savant. We tended to go for low-profile jobs to avoid this kind of accusation and that was the opposite of obscure.
Alex injected a tone of derision into his voice. ‘Help me out here, Mr Davis—what exactly is the connection between me and your president? I’ve never met the guy.’
‘He started his career with a win in this competition, as you well know.’
‘What? Thirty-five years ago? And that makes him one of these mind-manipulators, does it?’ From the snap in his voice, I could tell Alex was afraid—for me rather than himself. He was stalling to give Uriel time to reach us.
‘It certainly does! This extraordinary gift for manipulation is like the mark of Cain, passed down through the generations.’
A muscle ticked in Alex’s jaw; fury mixed with his anxiety but he was keeping tight control on his temper. ‘And the fact that there’s this mark, as you call it, gives you the right to creep up on sixteen-year-old girls doing their homework assignment to try to scare a confession out of them?’
Davis gave a contemptuous laugh. ‘She’s one of you too. I doubt I could scare her if I came at her with an axe!’
‘No, believe me, that would scare me,’ I said, shuddering.
‘Don’t kid yourself, miss. You’d just do that weird stuff you all do with your mind—take it from my hand with telepathy.’
‘You mean, like this?’ Uriel emerged from the shadow and flicked a finger. The detector flew out of the reporter’s grasp and into his hand. He passed his fingers over it, reading it with his gift. ‘I see you took one of Dr Surecross’s inventions when you interviewed him and adapted it. Does he know that it’s missing?’
Alex, get Misty away from him.
Davis backed away, clearly much more terrified of Uriel than he was of either Alex or me. ‘Now just you stop there—don’t take another step near me!’ The way to the exit was now clear.
Under orders from Uriel to get me away, Alex tugged my hand. ‘Let’s go.’
‘He’s got my text book,’ I whispered.
Alex snatched the book from Davis’ limp hand.
‘Is that what you did? You just happened to find the detector in your possession when you left his office, like you did that book?’ asked Uriel. There was a hardness to his tone that I hadn’t heard from him before. ‘I think you should come along with me and answer some questions.’
Davis opened his mouth to protest.
‘Unless you want me to call the police? They’d be very interested to discover the theft and trespass.’ Uriel folded his arms. ‘This school takes a dim view of strange men approaching their female students. I’m sure your employers at the newspaper wouldn’t approve.’
Davis wrung his hands nervously. ‘I’ll come with you if you promise you’ll not harm me in any way—that includes using any of your powers.’
‘Fine.’ Uriel swept his arm towards the door. ‘You go first. I’ll be right behind you.’
Davis scurried out.
Uriel approached me. ‘You OK, Misty?’
‘Yes.’
Uriel brushed my shoulder. ‘Did he say anything about the other savants who have been abducted?’
‘No, he didn’t mention that.’
Alex rubbed my upper arm comfortingly. ‘He was going on about corruption and our secret society putting our man in the White House—standard conspiracy-theory stuff.’
‘Thanks. I’ll take it from here. Alex, make sure Misty gets back to her room OK and I’ll ask Tarryn to find you. I don’t want you walking back to your hotel alone.’
I swallowed. ‘Should you be alone with him? He feels dangerous.’
Uriel gave me a direct look, revealing the steel core under the approachable exterior. ‘I’m a Benedict, Misty. That makes me the most dangerous man in the room, trust me.’ He left.
‘That was scary.’ I was shaking.
Alex hugged me closer, offering his warmth to my chilled skin. ‘Terrifying. I couldn’t get here fast enough. I don’t think I’ve ever been so afraid.’
‘I didn’t feel threatened—not personally. He’s focused on you. I think he sees you as a seedling president being grown for high office by us wicked savants.’
Alex smiled sourly at the image. ‘But he knows I’m linked to you—that makes you a target too.’ He picked up my bag and tucked the text book inside. ‘Let’s go back to your room. I don’t like this place.’
I scanned the dark spaces between high shelves. ‘Neither do I—not at night.’
We made our way across the school quadrangle to the accommodation block. The door to my part was protected by a punch-button code. Wanting to lighten the mood, I stood back.
‘Go on. Do your thing.’
He tapped my forehead. ‘You forgotten the code?’
‘No, I just like watching you at work.’
Chuckling, Alex waved me to stand further back.
‘By the way, what’s
bokkie
?’ I asked.
‘Did I say that?’ Alex smiled ruefully.
‘Yep. In the library.’
‘It means a little deer, but also means sweetheart.’
I grinned. Sometimes I didn’t mind my gift.
Embarrassed, Alex turned away and wiggled his fingers over the control. The door clicked open.
‘Was that finger movement necessary?’ I asked, copying the motions with mine. No wonder Davis suspected spells were involved.
He caught my hands in his and kissed the tips of my nails. ‘No, but I wanted to give you something to appreciate.’
‘Oh, I do appreciate you—all the time. You are one big walking “like” button, Alex du Plessis.’
He laughed. ‘That sounds really funny. Does it mean you want to press me all the time too?’
‘Yes, please.’ I pretended to click his shirt button. ‘But not share on other pages.’
‘Jealous, are you?’
‘Yep.’
‘And so am I. Come on, show me where you live before I get chucked out by whoever patrols your corridors.’
I led him up the stairs to my room on the second floor. We passed a few of my fellow boarders. They gawped at Alex—not only was I breaking the rules, he was very gawp-worthy, so I couldn’t blame them.
I opened the door to my room to let Alex go first. ‘Here’s my den.’
He stopped on the threshold. ‘Misty, are you normally this messy?’
‘I’m not messy!’ I peered round his shoulder. ‘Oh God.’ Feeling overwhelmed, I clung to his arm.
My belongings were scattered everywhere—drawers upturned, wardrobe emptied, bags, purses and files tipped out. I tried to go in but Alex barred the door with his arms.
‘Don’t. Uriel needs to see this. The police too, I guess. You shouldn’t disturb anything.’
I felt sick: it was like it had been done to me, not just my room. My private things were strewn about in full view—underwear, toiletries, photos, letters, mementoes. ‘But who would do this? What’s the point? I’ve nothing of value, no secrets.’
Really?
Apart from that.
And that is what it’s about, I guess.
Hafsa came to find out why we were still standing in the corridor. ‘Everything OK?’