Spirit Legacy (26 page)

Hannah seemed frozen. She stared at me, her face disturbingly blank. Then she nodded almost imperceptibly and tried to rise shakily from the bed. Instinctively, I reached out a hand to help her up. She hesitated and then took it.

We both gasped.

A powerful current, almost like electricity, pulsed between us. Yet rather than wanting to break apart, the current only bound us more closely together. A gust of wind blew our hair around our faces, and the quiet of the room was suddenly alive with voices, bleeding through the walls, echoing from the floors, emanating from everywhere.

I wrenched my hand away from Hannah’s and broke the connection. Hannah stumbled back from me and fell against her desk. We stared into each other’s eyes, breathless.

“What was that?” she cried.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think we should let it happen again,” I said. “Are you okay?”

She stood up gingerly. “I think so.”

At that moment the intercom system crackled to life. “All residents please proceed to their rooms for afternoon rounds. All staff please take note, this is a Code Pink round. Please call the front desk for instructions.”

“What’s a Code Pink round?” I asked.

“It means someone is missing from wherever they’re supposed to be. The nurses will be searching the rooms.”

I groaned. “Damn it. I’m the Code Pink. They must have gone back to the detox room and found me missing.”

“You were in detox?”

“Yeah. Well, I pretended to need detox so that I could sneak in and find you.”

Hannah almost smiled. “You did that for me?”

“Of course I did.” I tried to untangle my thoughts and focus. “We need to work together if we’re going to pull this off. I’m going to need your help. What’s our best chance to hide me until this Code Pink is over?”

Hannah thought for a moment. “I don’t know. The kitchen maybe? If we can get down there, it opens out to the back parking lot. They leave the door open because it gets so hot with the ovens; I’ve seen it through the tray pass-through.”

“Sounds like it’s worth a try.”

“We’ll need to be quick, before they …”

A loud metallic click resounded through the room.

“… lock us in,” she finished.

I flew to the door and pulled on the handle but I knew it was no good before I’d even tried. Hannah sank into her chair.

“It’s too late. We can’t get out that way.”

“Come on, Hannah, think! Isn’t there anywhere I can hide in here?” I cried. I chanced a look out of the little window in the door. A team of nurses was already at the end of the hall, opening the first door by swiping an I.D. through a sensor.

“No. I don’t know how to keep them from finding you, unless …” her voice trailed away and her stare became glassy as it landed on the piles of notebooks.

“Hannah?”

She didn’t move.

“HANNAH!”

She started out of her reverie and rose unsteadily. “Get in the closet,” she said.

“In the …? Hannah, no offense, but that’s the first place they’re going to look!”

“Just do it! Trust me.”

What other choice did I have? I ran across the room, wrenched the closet door open and backed myself into the corner until I was pressed against the back wall.

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

“I’m going to call for help.”

“Call who? Who could possibly ….”

Voices just outside the door interrupted my question. I heard the beeping of the sensor and the snap of the lock as it released and the door swung open. My heart thudded against my ribcage.

I recognized the first voice to speak.

“Hello, Hannah,” Nurse Jameson said. “Did you hear the announcement? This round will include a room check.”

“Yes, I heard.”

“Nurse Roberts has your meds. Please show your hands and swallow these.”

“No.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I said no. I’m not going to take those pills.”

“It’s not an option, Hannah, you know that,” a kinder male voice said. “Either you take them voluntarily or we have to restrain you and administer them ourselves. It’s your choice, but it would be a lot easier on all of us if you just took them.”

“No,” Hannah repeated softly.

“Hannah, we don’t have time for this,” Jameson sighed. “You’ve been voluntary for over a month now. What’s the problem all of a sudden?”

Hannah stayed silent. I closed my eyes and tried, unsuccessfully, not to panic. What was she doing? How could causing a huge scene by refusing her medication possibly help our situation?

“Fine, have it your way,” Jameson said. “We’re coming in. Is there anyone or anything in your room that we should know about?”

“Not yet,” Hannah said. Her voice was barely louder than a murmur. As she spoke, a cold draft swept the room and the temperature started to drop.

“What did you say?” Jameson asked.

“I said there’s no one here that you should know about,” Hannah repeated, a little more loudly. “But there will be.”

My teeth started to chatter. I clenched them together to silence the sound. What the hell was going on? I chanced a peek though the slats of the door.

Jameson towered in the doorway, flanked by a short but burly male nurse. Hannah stood in the middle of the room, her head bowed as though in prayer. Her mouth was moving silently and her hands were clenching and unclenching at her sides. As I watched, her hair started blowing gently around her face.

“Hannah? Are you alright?” Jameson asked warily.

“What is she doing?” Roberts whispered.

Hannah’s muttering grew faster and faster. It was impossible to tell what she was saying, but the effect was undeniable. The room was now so cold that I could see my breath. A familiar feeling began to creep through my veins, a sensation I’d felt only a few times before, but which I would never forget.

“Why is it so cold in here?” Jameson asked. She edged a step into the room and examined the thermostat on the wall.

But I knew why it was so cold. I’d felt it, and now I could see it. Ghosts. Everywhere. Materializing right and left, floating through walls, rising up from the floors. They were men and women, adults and children. A few looked like they’d stepped out of the pages of a history book, in antiquated clothing; others looked like they’d just walked in off the street. I recognized Milo and Carley among them. There were probably fifty of them in all, fading in and out of focus, flickering like eight millimeter images, hovering, floating and crouching everywhere. Whatever Hannah was doing was calling them to her, and they clustered around her like moths around a candle flame, forming a wall of the dead between her and the nurses.

Although Jameson could see none of this, she knew something was very wrong. She was backing away from Hannah like she was about to explode.

“Call Doctor Ferber,” she told Roberts.

He unclipped a radio from his belt and raised it to his mouth, but before he could say anything, a small boy with a gaping head wound shot forward, thrusting his hands out for the radio. It flew out of Roberts’ hand, arced through the air and smashed into the wall.

“What the hell was that?” he shouted.

“Hannah, I need you to calm down. Just take a deep breath and calm down,” Jameson said, raising both of her hands in a gesture of surrender.

Hannah said nothing aloud, but inclined her head toward Milo, who disappeared and reappeared in the same instant beside Jameson. With a casual flick of his wrist, he sent her clipboard, papers, and I.D. soaring out of her hands and skidding across the floor.

Shock and terror had incapacitated me, and the worst part was that I didn’t know who I was more terrified of, this army of the dead or my own sister.

Jameson turned to Roberts. “I need five milligrams of Haldol,” she muttered. He reached back into the medical cart behind him, filled a syringe, and handed it to her.

Jameson took a cautious step toward Hannah, the syringe concealed behind her back. “Hannah, let’s calm down and talk, okay? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Stay away from me,” Hannah commanded. The spirits crowded around her rippled as each word passed through them.

Jameson took another measured step forward.

Roberts shadowed her.

“I told you to stay away from me,” Hannah said, her voice quavering.

Around her, every ghostly eye turned on the advancing nurses.

Jameson and Roberts froze.

The room pulsated with a strange, cold power.

I held my breath. I could see Jameson’s mind working furiously. She was trying to decide what to do. If she could see what she was really advancing toward, she would have run screaming.

But she couldn’t. So, she stepped forward instead.

Hannah pointed a single finger at her.

The room exploded, glass shattering from the windows, the furniture upending, clothes and books scattering everywhere. I flung my hands up to protect my face as the closet door flew off its hinges. The ghosts surged forward as a single entity, blasting the nurses off their feet. Roberts crashed headlong into the medical cart and lay in a heap on the floor. Jameson collided with the wall behind her and crumpled onto the rug, the syringe thrust deep into her own thigh.

Only Hannah remained untouched amidst the wreckage. She stood as calmly and quietly as if she’d been meditating. As she raised her head and opened her eyes, the ghosts around her shimmered away into nothingness.

I crawled out of the closet on trembling legs. “Hannah? Are you alright?” I lay a gentle hand on her shoulder. She jumped a little, and looked at me with empty eyes, like she’d forgotten who I was. Then, something barely perceptible shifted in her gaze.

“Yes. I’m alright.”

I wanted to ask her what the hell had just happened, but there was no time for that.

“We’ve got to get out of here, now!” I snatched Jameson’s ID off the floor, grabbed Hannah’s arm, and dragged her out into the hallway.

It was deserted; all of the patients were still locked into their rooms, their confused faces pressed to every window. We sprinted to the ward entrance. I mashed the ID against the sensor and the door swung open. Somewhere behind us, a distant door opened and voices began shouting. The door pulled shut behind us, quickly muffling them. I knew it wouldn’t take long for the rest of the staff to be alerted to the absolute insanity that had ensued in Hannah’s room, but I’d hoped for a few more minutes, at least.

“Which way to the kitchen?” I panted.

“Down those stairs and to the right,” Hannah said.

I took the steps two at a time, but Hannah was falling behind. Whatever she’d done to summon the ghosts had left her weak and exhausted. By the time we reached the bottom of the flight, I was practically dragging her, and the voices on our tail were growing louder.

We used the ID again at the bottom of the steps, and I yanked the door shut behind us.

“They’re catching up,” Hannah gasped, clutching at a stitch in her side. “We’ve got to find a way to slow them down, or we’ll never make it out!”

I glanced around frantically and my eyes found a fire extinguisher encased in glass on the wall.

“Give me your sweatshirt!” I cried.

Hannah yanked off her sweatshirt and handed it to me. I wrapped it around my arm and threw my elbow into the glass as hard as I could. It shattered on the first try. I grabbed the fire extinguisher and ran with it back to the door at the bottom of the stairs.

“Open the door again and hold it open this time!”

Hannah did as I asked. I ducked quickly through and found the sensor on the other side. The staircase above me was alive with shouts and echoing footsteps. I raised the fire extinguisher above my head and brought it down repeatedly on the sensor until it dangled, useless from the wall. I flung the extinguisher aside and pulled the door shut behind us.

“Keep running!” I urged. “I have no idea if that will hold them, or for how long!”

We tore towards the kitchen. Behind us, fists pounded on the door, but it held.

A right, a left, another left.

“There!” Hannah said finally, pointing to a set of white double doors directly ahead of us.

I slammed the ID into one last sensor and we stumbled into an industrial-looking kitchen. We didn’t stop, not to see who was yelling at us, or to check if they were on our heels. We darted around several large prep tables and a giant mixing unit towards the exit in the far corner of the room. We burst right through and into the bright spring afternoon.

We skidded to a halt just long enough to spot Karen’s car beyond the chain link fence, the engine snarling as she revved it impatiently.

“There she is!”

I grabbed Hannah’s sleeve and tugged her across the lawn. We scrambled awkwardly over the fence and stumbled the last few yards to the car. I flung open the door, pulled us in, and we crumpled into a breathless heap in the back seat.

“Oh thank God, thank God!” Karen cried. “Are you okay?”

“We’re fine, just drive. Drive!” I yelled.

With a squeal of tires, Karen took off down the street and turned the corner like a NASCAR champ. For the next few minutes the car was silent except for our ragged breathing. I strained my ears for the sounds of sirens, but heard nothing.

When we finally merged onto the highway, Karen allowed herself a glance over her shoulder at us.

“You must be Hannah,” she said.

But Hannah’s eyes had fluttered closed and she did not answer.

Chapter 19—Téigh Anonn

Chapter 19—Téigh Anonn

“I
s she okay?” Karen asked.

“I think so. They’ve got her on all kinds of meds, Karen. They seem to make her really weak,” I said.

“How did you do it? When I saw the sensor system on the doors, I never thought we’d be able to pull it off.”

“It was Hannah. Karen, you won’t believe how she got us out of there. It was insane. They figured out I was missing and they locked all the rooms down. Then these two nurses showed up, and Hannah just closed her eyes and suddenly it was like every ghost she’d ever met was there to help us.”

The small part of Karen’s face I could see in the rear view mirror looked alarmed. “What do you mean? They just showed up?”

“It was like she summoned them, Karen! It was like she could control them. She just concentrated for a minute and they all appeared out of nowhere. She used them to attack the nurses so we could get out.”

“Tell me exactly what happened,” Karen said.

I gave every detail I could pull from my frazzled memory. Karen was silent for so long when I’d finished that I got worried.

“Karen?”

“Yes.”

“Was that … normal? I mean, for Durupinen? Can we all do what she did in there?” I thought of the number of times I’d tried to contact Evan without even a whisper of a response.

“No, Jess. That was something very … unusual,” Karen said. Her eyes found mine in the mirror. “Jess, I don’t want you to tell anyone about what Hannah did in there.”

“Who would I—”

“—I mean the other Durupinen, especially. I don’t know why Hannah was able to do what she did. Maybe it was a result of being Bound for so long, I can’t be sure. But I want to look into it for myself before we let anyone know about that particular … talent.”

“Okay.”

“Promise me, Jess. Not a word about it until I figure out more.”

“I promise.”

Hannah slept the entire car ride home to Boston, and it took both of us to get her up the stairs and into my room to sleep. I wanted to stay in the chair by the bed until she woke up, but Karen refused to let me.

“You need the rest as much as she does. Don’t forget what you went through less than twenty-four hours ago. It was against my better judgment to let you do what you’ve done already today, but we had no choice. Now we do have a choice and you are going to sleep. No buts.”

I but-ed anyway. “But I want to be there when she—”

“—I won’t take my eyes off of her, I promise. And I will wake you when she’s up.”

Having pulled the rug completely out from under my argument, Karen gently pushed me onto the pillows of the sofa and tugged a blanket up to my chin.

“Sleep!” she ordered.

Like some kind of incantation, I suddenly couldn’t resist the word; I’d sunk into unconsciousness before I could complete another thought.

§

By the time a voice roused me again, early morning sunlight had crept across the living room floor in wide golden stripes and fallen across my body like warm embracing arms.

“She’s up. I thought you’d like to know,” said a voice much too close to me.

I shrieked in surprise and twisted around to discover Milo sitting on the windowsill, smirking at me.

Karen poked her head around the corner. “Jess? Are you alright?”

“Just a ghost,” I grumbled. “Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.”

“An aggressive one? Do you need help?”

“Nope. Just an annoying one.”

Milo positively beamed. “Stop, I’m blushing,” he sang.

“Okay, well, Hannah just woke up. She was going to shower and get changed. She’ll be down in a few minutes,” Karen said.

“I know. The ghost told me.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, I’ll come get you when she’s ready. Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked doubtfully.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. What time is it?”

“A little after seven. You’ve been asleep for fifteen hours. I told you you needed it.”

“Wow. I’ll be up in a minute.” I turned back to my visitor. “Damn it, Milo, you scared the hell out of me!”

“Sorry!” he said gleefully, not looking sorry at all.

“What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at New Beginnings?”

“What, and miss all the fun? Not on your life, girl! Besides, where she goes, I go.”

“I thought ghosts were attached to the places they died. Don’t you have to stay put?”

“Evidently not.”

The phone rang in the kitchen. I heard the distant mumble of Karen’s voice as she answered it.

“Anyway, I have a message for you,” he continued.

“A message? From who?”

“From
them
,” he replied cryptically, then added a mocking “Wooooooooo!” for effect.

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, Casper. What do ‘they’ have to say?”

“I’ve been instructed to tell you to hurry. They’re impatient. They say they’ve waited long enough,” he recited like a kid who’d memorized something for class.

“Am I supposed to know what that means?”

Milo shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I’m just your roguishly handsome messenger boy.”

“Fine. Well, I can’t do anything until Hannah gets down here, so ….”

“I can hurry her along,” he offered, hopping up.

“Don’t you dare! She’s in the shower, you creep! Stay out of there!”

“Relax, honey. She’s not exactly my type.”

“Oh. Right. Well, stay out of there anyway.”

He heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Fine, fine. I’ll wait for her upstairs. I want to get a look around the place anyway.” He faded from my view like a mirage.

“Stay out of my room!” I yelled. I could have sworn I heard a distant chuckle.

“Jess?” Karen had returned. “Are you, um … alone?”

“Yup.”

“That was Tia on the phone. She sounded pretty worried. I think maybe you should call her.”

“Oh, no! Poor Tia! She must be going crazy. I’ll do that now, I … wait, what do I tell her?”

“As little as you can. We’ll work on a cover story together later. Do you want me to bring you the phone?”

“No, I’ve got my cell.”

“Would you like some tea with breakfast? I’m already brewing some for your sister.”

“No, thanks. I’ll stick to coffee,” I said. Marveling at how strange the words “your sister” still sounded, I fished my phone out of my sweatshirt pocket.

Twenty-three missed calls. Seventeen voicemails. I scrolled through the missed calls; they were all from Tia’s cell phone. Cringing internally, I pressed number three on my speed dial. It took less than half a ring for her to pick up.

“JESS! Oh, my
goodness
, I was so worried! What happened? Are you alright?”

“Hi, Tia. Yeah. I’m okay.”

“Sam came by the room and said that he’d seen you at the library, but that you weren’t there when they were packing up in the morning, and neither was Professor Pierce! The others wouldn’t tell him where you’d gone. I didn’t know what to tell him, since he wasn’t even supposed to know you were there, so I just played dumb.” Tia was babbling at warp speed now, and I could barely keep up.

I jumped in before she could start hyperventilating. “I just saw Sam for a second last night, so I don’t think he really has any clue why I was there. I’ll come up with an explanation.”

“I’ve been calling and calling! Why didn’t you pick up?”

“I’ve been … sleeping, actually,” I admitted, feeling increasing twinges of guilt that I hadn’t gotten in touch with her sooner. Knowing Tia, she’d probably paced a hole clean through our dorm room floor. “It was a rough night.”

“But what happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m okay, really. It was all just a little traumatic and Karen thought I should come home.”

It was Tia’s turn to sound guilty. “Look, I’m sorry I called you at your aunt’s house. I know you haven’t been telling her everything that’s been going on, but I just had to know if—”

“—No, no, don’t apologize. She knows everything now. I already talked to her. She sort of made me come home, actually. In fact, now that I’m up, I think she and I have a lot more talking to do. I’ll call you later and explain everything, I promise.”

“Okay, but please call soon, the suspense is killing me!” Tia moaned.

I laughed. “I will, I will.”

“Good. Oh, and by the way I left you like ten voicemails. So, um, I guess you can just delete them.”

“You left me seventeen voicemails, actually. And yes, I’ll get right on that.”

I said goodbye to Tia and tossed the phone aside. Still moving gingerly, I got to my feet and padded into the dining room.

§

Hannah was sitting at the table, a steaming mug of tea clasped in her white-knuckled hands. She was staring into it as though it were speaking to her. I slipped into the seat across from her.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Hannah and I sat in silence while I waited for my coffee. I had so much to say to her and I had absolutely no idea where to begin.

Karen plunked a mug down in front of me and sat down at the table.

“Where’s Noah?” I asked.

“Working, thank God. I still haven’t had a moment to figure out what the hell I’m going to tell him.”

“He doesn’t know about any of this?”

“Not a clue. Oh well, I’ll think of something. We always do.” She took a large gulp of tea and savored it as though it were something a lot stronger. “Well, here we all are. And Hannah, you must have a lot of questions. I’ll try to start at the beginning, and tell you everything I know. I’ll ask Jess to fill in when I can’t. Then we’ll go from there.”

Hannah still didn’t look up from what was evidently a fascinating cup of tea. She did, however, nod that she was listening.

And so Hannah learned the truth. Karen told her everything she’d told me the previous night, and, despite the absence of Lucida’s snarky interruptions, I had an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. Hannah continued to stare at her mug, and I would have thought she wasn’t even listening, except for a tiny crease of concentration that would appear in her forehead every now and then. I then told Hannah everything that had happened to me since August, starting with the death of our mother, the dreams, and my own ghostly encounters.

Finally, Karen and I had talked ourselves out, and there was a ringing silence pressing in on us from all sides.

“It didn’t work,” Hannah finally said.

“What didn’t work?” Karen asked.

“The Binding. It didn’t work. I still saw all those ghosts ever since I was little.”

Karen’s expression was miserable as she tried to answer. “I’m not sure exactly why that is, Hannah. That’s a question for Finvarra, I think. I know that Bindings are only meant to be a temporary protective measure, so it’s possible that it wasn’t strong enough or lasting enough to keep you from Visitations. Your mother would have been devastated if she’d known.”

Hannah scowled, but said nothing.

“So, what’s next?” I asked Karen.

“Now that we have the two of you reunited, we must initiate your Gateway. Then it will be time for you to be trained in the ways of the Durupinen. If, that is, you are willing.”

“We have a choice?” I asked.

“You do. There have been women over the years who have chosen not to embrace their birthright. But you should know that there are usually consequences to that kind of choice. If you choose never to become Durupinen, they cannot protect you from the spirits that will continue to seek you out. The ghosts themselves do not care about your choices; they sense only what you were meant to be, and they will find you, no matter where you go.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a choice,” Hannah said.

“No, I suppose it doesn’t,” Karen admitted.

“What does it mean, to be trained?” I asked.

“You would attend a school of sorts, set up by the Durupinen for the education of their Apprentices. Our training school is Fairhaven Hall, just outside of London, England, since that is the source of our family’s bloodline. We are descendants of the Clan Sasanaigh, which originated in the British Isles.”

“Wait, we’d have to move out of the country?” I cried. “What about college? What about St. Matt’s and my friends? I thought you and mom went to Harvard?”

“We did, for a time, but only after our training. The training takes two years. The Durupinen have been able to establish an internationally recognized study abroad program as a cover for our clan schools. You will be able to transfer back to the U.S. when your training is complete and your transcript will reflect that of a typical college.”

“When would we go?” Hannah asked.

“As soon as possible.”

I opened my mouth to argue but Karen silenced me with a weary hand.

“We’ll worry about the transatlantic relocation later, okay? We have something more pressing to discuss. Because our Gateway has been closed for so long, we simply can’t wait for the traditional initiation. We’ll have to unlock the Gateway here and perform your first crossing before we go. Now that the two of you are back together again, the pull for spirits meant to cross through you will be stronger than ever. There’s a real danger to both of you if we wait.”

“That must be what Milo was talking about,” I said.

“Milo?”

“The ghost I was talking to earlier. He’s a friend of Hannah’s from the group home.”

“
Best
friend,” Milo corrected. He had just appeared sitting on the kitchen counter.

“He’s here,” I told Karen. “In the kitchen.”

Karen instinctively turned her head toward the kitchen, but then turned back to us. Her expression was almost sad. I realized that she actually
missed
seeing the ghosts that were all around us. Either she was insane or there was a lot about this entire Durupinen thing that I couldn’t yet appreciate.

I continued, “He told me that they were getting impatient, and that we needed to hurry.”

“I can hear them now,” Hannah said. “They’ve been louder since I woke up.”

I gaped at her, horrified. “You mean you can hear them all the time?”

She shrugged. “If I’m not medicated.”

“What do you think, Hannah? Are you ready to do this?” Karen asked. “If we can cross them over, you may finally have a little peace.”

It took Hannah a moment to answer.

“I don’t like to think much about when I was little, but the earliest memory I can recall is sitting on my bed and talking to the ghost of a little girl in one of my foster homes. So many times I haven’t even known if the people I’ve met have been alive or dead, and I may never know.” Suddenly her voice grew stronger and she pushed her mug away from her. “But I’m tired of never being able to give them what they want. Some of them are so sad, so desperate, and they never understand why I can’t help them. Now that I can, I feel like I have to do it, even if I’m afraid.”