Harbinger

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Harbinger Page 17

by Emme DeWitt


  “Let me check.” Evangeline fished her phone out from the bottom of her bag. “Oh, would you look at that.”

  “Back on?”

  “Back on.”

  “Can you find out if Compass Rose is still publishing books? It’s a long shot, but we might as well try.” I scribbled a note to myself on a spare note card.

  “Uh, Noah,” Evangeline said, her eyes bugging out behind the soft glow of her phone’s screen.

  “What?” I sorted the newly cataloged books into a fresh pile.

  “Look.” Evangeline shoved her phone in front of my face.

  The webpage looked old but active. Compass Rose Books was scrawled across the top of the page, along with the Elevated symbol and a P.O. Box address located in Boston.

  “Scroll to the bottom,” Evangeline instructed, her impatience causing the screen to dance in her hand.

  I snatched the phone from her grasp, tapping my finger on the screen to zoom in on the copyright notice on the bottom of the webpage.

  “Copyright T.D. Xavier.” I glanced up to mirror Evangeline’s slack-jawed expression.

  “Weird, huh?” Evangeline said densely.

  “What was Ms. Xavier’s Elevation, did you say?”

  “I didn’t say.” Evangeline frowned. “Why? Does it matter?”

  “What’s the one she’s pretending to have?” I asked more directly. “She’s impersonating someone, right?”

  “I’m not following.” Evangeline squinted at me. “It’s like Chinese to me right now.”

  “What’s the opposite of death?” I said. “The opposite on my plane.”

  “Your balance is Regeneration. Technically, you’re Entropy, but I’m following.” Evangeline waved me on.

  “So someone who has an Elevation in Regeneration does what, exactly?” I asked, my eyes drawn back to the webpage.

  “Well, I suppose they would regenerate. I had a great uncle who could cut off a finger and have it grow back, but I always thought my abuela was just scaring me into eating my vegetables…oh my God, you’re not serious!” Evangeline finally seemed to link the scattered thoughts in my brain together.

  “Dead serious,” I replied.

  “Har har.” Evangeline faked a knee slap. “It’s funny because your Elevation is Entropy.”

  “Would you stop messing around? What happens if the dean finds out Ms. Xavier isn’t actually immortal?” I asked. “That could end really, really badly.”

  “But why would the dean try to kill an immortal?” Evangeline countered. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “If she thought Ms. Xavier wasn’t an immortal, I’m pretty sure killing her would be on the top of the dean’s priority list,” I said. “Ms. Xavier must be looking for something in these books she needs to keep the ruse going.”

  “Like what?” Evangeline asked.

  “If we knew that, we wouldn’t need to be cataloging books older than your grandmother.” I sighed. “I just wish we could narrow it down more easily.”

  “I wonder what possessed the real T.D. Xavier to publish books with our symbol on them,” Evangeline said as she grabbed the marked spines from the piles within her reach. “The metaphysics book helped me a lot with creating barriers, but it’s not like a how to guide for Empaths.”

  I stared at the growing number of books Evangeline was stacking in front of herself. I crouched down next to it, scanning the various titles.

  “Unless they are how to guides,” I thought aloud.

  “Okay, then, where’s the how to be a good banshee handbook? It’s bound to be in here somewhere,” Evangeline said sarcastically, pulling more and more books closer to her. “We’ve got Shakespearean sonnets, topography for beginners, a history of European folktales, and echolocation in sea mammals.”

  Evangeline met my gaze as a lightbulb went off in my head.

  “That is so cool,” she whispered, handing over the zoology text. “It’s not even fair.”

  Twenty-Eight

  I waited impatiently in the doorframe of Evangeline’s private study carrel as she slowly packed her bag for class.

  “We’re going to be late if you continue crawling at a glacial pace.” I checked my phone for the fifth time since I’d crossed the hall from my own marathon of private study hours.

  “I’m savoring the last bit of emotional freedom I have for the next two hours, okay?” Evangeline threw over her shoulder, checking the buckles on her messenger bag for the second time.

  “The last time I was this late to Ms. Xavier’s class, I got detention,” I said. “Can we not repeat the experience, please?”

  “Just don’t fall asleep.” Evangeline shrugged her bag onto her petite shoulder.

  “I didn’t fall asleep, I blacked out,” I muttered. “Are you ready now?”

  “Yes, keep your pants on.” Evangeline stuck her tongue out at me.

  I returned the favor, letting her walk in front of me to set the pace. I forgot how quickly Evangeline could move when she felt like it.

  “What would I do without your commentary?” Evangeline quipped. “So insightful.”

  “If you stayed out of my head like Ms. Xavier told you to, you wouldn’t have to listen to it,” I replied to her back. “I’m not censoring myself for you. Find a new research partner if you can’t handle it.”

  “Three days in the trenches, and you think you’re indispensable.” Evangeline shook her head sadly from side to side. “Your ego really has no bounds, does it?”

  I snorted, racing Evangeline down the stairs. When I burst through the door first, I pumped my fists in the air.

  “Champion!” I faked a triumphant yell at half volume.

  “Child,” Evangeline muttered, her lip jutting out slightly. “And a cheater. Not fair at all.”

  I swung my bag around, walking backward so I could face Evangeline.

  “You can beat me in our rematch later. It’ll give you something to look forward to,” I offered.

  “I can hardly contain my excitement.” A yawn escaped her and ruined her delivery.

  I could tell when we were getting closer to the lecture hall by watching her facial expressions flatten out. The smile from moments ago solidified into a grimace, and I fell into step next to her as the steps of the hall rose in front of us.

  “Maybe if you imagine everyone in their underwear, it won’t be so bad,” I suggested, aiming more for comic relief than practical solutions.

  “Doesn’t take much prodding to see them in their actual underwear,” Evangeline said under her breath. “Believe me, I’ve tried to unsee that, and you just can’t.”

  I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to hide the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Even several days later, with promises from both the dean and the police that the investigation was ongoing for the perpetrator of Sean’s attack, the looks I got from my fellow classmates made it clear a verdict had already been handed down in the court of public opinion.

  My frog-march in front of the dining hall seemed to be the crowning piece of evidence, with hearsay from nosy onlookers of my tumultuous relationship with Sean (bordering on R-rated) and my alleged checkered past (a rumor of a rumor of a brief stint in juvenile hall) rounding out the obvious fact that I’d killed my classmate and seduced the chief of police into letting me off the hook.

  Just hearing the rumors of my busy alter ego made me tired.

  I glanced around, finding several underclassmen whispering at the base of the stairs. A small crowd had gathered, waiting for the doors to open for admission into Ms. Xavier’s lecture. Without the between-class entertainment of Mags vs. Aileen, the students were growing restless as I stood patiently waiting at Evangeline’s side.

  A buzz began soon after we entered, but I ignored it. It was only after Evangeline nudged me purposefully that I pulled my head up from my idle inspection of my high top tennis shoes and looked out into the crowd. Aileen strode forward, leading a small mob of students behind her. I squinted at them, curious to fin
d so many students coordinated enough to be this early to class.

  This could not be a good thing.

  Aileen stopped in front of me and signaled the rest of the gaggle of teenagers to stop.

  “You,” Aileen spat at me, “are not welcome here.”

  I looked around, wondering if Aileen had been speaking to someone else.

  “Excuse me.” I stepped forward to hide Evangeline partially behind my back. Whatever animosity was fueling the crowd, I was worried the focus would be redirected at her. Instinctively, I acted as a human buffer for Aileen’s stupidity.

  “I said, you need to leave.” Aileen drew herself up to her full height. Even then, I still bent my head down to look at her.

  “No, I need to go to class,” I replied. “I don’t know about you, but I actually care about things such as attendance and grades. Once I have my diploma, I will be more than happy to move on to greener pastures.”

  I glanced back, noting the door was still shut tight. Sighing, I turned back toward Aileen, whose face had inflated to a nice cherry red.

  “I refuse to sit next to a murderer in class!” Aileen stomped her foot in indignation.

  My eyebrow rose in mild amusement. “Me too, but until the police have brought Sean’s attacker to justice, I guess we’re all going to have to suffer,” I said. I leaned in conspiratorially, stage whispering to Aileen. “Some of us will have to suffer more than others.”

  “As if playing around with Sean wasn’t enough,” Aileen growled, her rage spreading down her neck and ears, “you have to go around messing with my boyfriend, too. I won’t let you ruin another life just so you can have your fun and spit him back out. He’s a person, not a trophy.”

  My expression went blank.

  “I’m not following,” I said mildly. “Did you just accuse me of stealing your boyfriend? I didn’t even know you had one.”

  Aileen was seething.

  “Colm is off limits.” Aileen’s voice wavered with bravado. “You come near him again, and I’ll make sure the charges stick this time.”

  “Listen, I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” I said. “I’m not stealing your boyfriend. I don’t even know who you’re talking about.”

  “Only the most handsome junior at Windermere,” Honore said, her arms crossed across her chest.

  “Star quarterback. Tragic accident. Was in a coma,” Grace sneered, mirroring her sister’s defensive stance.

  “Until some little harlot went all Sleeping Beauty on him.” Honore glanced knowingly back at Grace.

  “Right after she went Maleficent on guitar boy,” she reminded Honore. They shivered in disgust, fueling the rage leaking out of Aileen’s every pore.

  “You all need hobbies that don’t include manufacturing gossip from rumors you also created yourself.” I shook my head sadly. “And do yourselves a favor by picking up a book or twenty. Your plot could use some help.”

  The buzz of the horde flanking Aileen rose, and alarm bells rang in the back of my mind.

  They didn’t seem bold enough to actually do anything, but you should never underestimate the mob mentality. Just as I was debating making a run for the classroom door, the mob parted to reveal the man of the hour himself.

  More than one jaw dropped as Colm walked through the tunnel of students, his bag slung loosely over his shoulders. He stopped beside Aileen, pausing to take in the ridiculous scene in its entirety. He frowned at the crowd of students who had pressed in tightly to get a better look at the drama being played out in real time.

  “What’s going on? Has class been cancelled?” Colm looked around hopefully, seeing the door behind us shut.

  “I wish it were that eventful.” I sighed, drawing the heated gaze of Aileen again.

  She latched onto his arm, and he took a step back to brace himself. A smile pulled at the corners of my mouth when he stiffened noticeably against the unwanted attention.

  “I was just telling this stalker to leave you alone,” Aileen cooed up at Colm.

  His eyes darted to mine. “Who?”

  Even though I’d been the one to tell him to pretend he didn’t know me, the punch to my gut at his feigned ignorance still took me by surprise. I bit the inside of my cheek, hard.

  “That’s the girl who pretended to be me to visit you,” Aileen snarled, hugging onto Colm tightly.

  “Ah, that,” I said, finally pretending to understand Aileen’s earlier barbs. “The nurses just kind of shoved me in his room, thinking I was his girlfriend. I was actually looking for Evangeline. She had a little bit of a setback, what with the police and the dining hall and everything. A bit overwhelming.”

  Aileen sniffed at my excuse. My eyes slid to Colm’s.

  “Sorry, I didn’t realize there had been a misunderstanding.” I kept his blue eyes locked into mine. “I meant no trouble.”

  “I was asleep anyway.” Colm shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “It won’t happen again,” I assured him. “I’m glad you’re awake though. Everyone seemed really worried about you.”

  “Thanks.” Colm held back a sad smile. “Sorry to hear about Sean. I heard he was a friend of yours.”

  “Yeah, it’s a shame,” I said. “He was one of the few decent people here.”

  Aileen scoffed at me, her eyes moony over Colm.

  “Yeah, and a good judge of character,” Colm said, ignoring his clingy girlfriend. “If you passed his test, you’re good in my book.”

  “Colm.” Aileen bristled at his remark. “She’s the one who killed him.”

  “Doubtful.” Colm looked me over. “She has a lot of bark, but I’m not sure she has the heart to bite.”

  Finally, the door to the lecture hall flung open, and the students drifted toward the opening, streaking past us to get a decent seat. In the melee, I lost sight of Aileen and her twin minions as they fought to get to class on time. The warning bell tolled, and Evangeline and I were left to bring up the rear of the students.

  A flash of blue caught my eyes, and Colm’s face stared back at me from the bustle of students filing into rows. I smiled at him, and he smiled back before Aileen tugged him into his seat.

  I turned to close the door behind me, pausing only briefly to find Evangeline making fake gagging noises in disgust.

  Get a room, Evangeline’s voice tinkled in my ears. I looked over at her grey-faced exterior and let it slide, focusing on the beginning of Ms. Xavier’s lecture instead.

  Twenty-Nine

  “Walk me through it again.” Evangeline pinched the bridge of her nose tightly between her forefingers.

  I glanced around, worried our conversation could be overheard through the glass of the private study carrel. Evangeline followed my gaze, picking up on my concern.

  “There’s no one here,” Evangeline said for the third time, letting a sigh escape in her frustration. “They’re all in class. Where you should be, technically.”

  “I was excused from the midterm since I started last week.” I waved the excuse off. “Pay attention.”

  “I’m trying, but you’re not doing a good enough job convincing yourself. I’m getting conflicting commentary on your hypothesis,” Evangeline grumbled.

  “Listen, all I’m saying is that the recent series of events makes it clearer than ever the Elevated community is fracturing apart,” I repeated. “You said yourself that no one keeps records of Elevated people or Elevated-related people. While that may have been true in the past, that didn’t stop T.D. Xavier from publishing books to help Elevated people. This was back, what, three or four generations ago?”

  “I’m following,” Evangeline chanted, keeping her eyes closed.

  “Back in those days, Elevated people who weren’t born into the great families had no idea what they had. Naturally, those generations would seek each other out in an attempt to unite the community and share their knowledge with one another,” I continued.

  “Still following,” Evangeline said.

  “The community
grew too constrictive, even to the point of discarding some within the Elevated community. Again, the pendulum swings back, and this generation is fracturing apart again, trying to gain autonomy from the community trying to keep everyone together,” I concluded.

  “Not following,” Evangeline said. “Where are the golden years? The ones when everyone gets along and grows and learns and loves?”

  “We’re talking about human nature here, not a Saturday morning cartoon,” I said. “It’s like a rebellion. The first rebellion was connecting everyone even though the previous generation thought it was a bad idea. The second rebellion is breaking apart the community the older generation thinks is necessary for survival.”

  “Wouldn’t it be nice if everyone could get along though?” Evangeline asked, rubbing her eyes savagely. “Share information so everyone has it. They can learn or not based on their own abilities, and everyone benefits from Elevated people having control over their respective powers.”

  “You’re assuming everyone has the same size slice from the pie of Elevated abilities,” I countered. “You yourself have a bias against certain planes because of the assumption that their powers are not as vast or useful as yours.”

  “I never said that,” Evangeline said.

  “But you’re thinking it,” I replied. “Just like when everyone was fighting over me as soon as I got on campus because I’m on the Vitality plane. Do you think I would have gotten the red carpet treatment if I were on the Relativity plane?”

  “I don’t know. Teleporting could be damn useful,” Evangeline muttered. “Or going back in time so I could take a nap. Also, very useful.”

  “I doubt that’s how time travel works,” I said seriously.

  “Then they’re doing it wrong,” Evangeline said. “Or the least they could do would be research the different branches of the Elevated family trees. I’m dying to know who I get to blame for these lovely impressions.”

  “Didn’t you say that the type of Elevation wasn’t genetic? Just if you’re a carrier?” I leafed back through my notes.

 

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