Free to Fall

24

“HERSHEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

Hershey smirked. “What, you were hoping I was dead so you’d have free rein on my closet?”

“No! Of cour—”

“I was kidding,” she said with a laugh, and pulled me into a hug.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” I said into her hair.

North appeared behind Hershey. “Let’s close the door,” he said, ushering me inside. Hershey plopped down on the couch, pulling her legs up under her, and reached for the paper cup on the end table. I perched on the edge of the coffee table. She was paler than she usually was, not sick-person pale, just lack-of-a-spray-tan pale, and it looked like she’d lost a little weight.

“How’d you get back?” I asked her.

“I never left,” she replied, tossing her hair. “I paid a girl to take my first-class ticket and post status updates from my handheld.” She took a sip from her coffee. “I thought it was pretty brilliant.”

“And since then?”

“I’ve been staying at a motel a few miles from here, trying to dig up some dirt on the Evil Queen.”

“Tarsus?”

“She’s such a piece of work,” Hershey spat. “I went to her house that morning to tell her I wouldn’t spy for her anymore. I should’ve just gone straight to the dean. I figured she’d argue with me or try to convince me to keep doing it, but she acted like she had no idea what I was talking about. As if I were making it up. So I told her we’d just have to let the dean decide. That was when she mentioned sending me for a psych eval, which she was sure would show that I’d had some sort of mental breakdown.” Hershey shook her head in disgust. “It was so well played. She had me cornered. So I told her I’d leave on my own.”

“I’m so sorry, Hersh. What have you been doing since then?”

“Beating the witch at her own game,” Hershey replied. She reached into the leather bag at her feet and pulled out a data chip. She handed it to me. “It’s from her tablet. All stuff about you. Your birth announcement, old news articles from when you won the state science fair and crap like that, screenshots of your Forum page, a couple of photos. Whatever she’s had against you, it started long before you applied to Theden.”

The hair on my arms stood on end. “How did you get this?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hershey replied flippantly. “I owe you.”

“I appreciate that, but, Hershey, if you’d gotten caught breaking in to her office—”

“I didn’t break in,” she said. “And I didn’t get caught.” She took another sip of her coffee. “If I were you, I’d be thinking less about how I got it and more about what’s on it.”

I stared at the data chip lying flat in my palm. Dr. Tarsus had been keeping tabs on me since birth. Why?

I looked up with a start. “She was in my mom’s class!” I yanked my handheld from my back pocket and went to my photobox. I’d taken another picture of my mom’s senior photo, in daylight this time, so I had a clear shot of the whole class now. “That would explain how she knows Griffin, too.” I kicked myself for not thinking of it before.

Now that I was looking for her, Tarsus was easy to spot. She was in the back row, directly behind my mom, several inches taller than the boys on either side. There was no doubt it was her. She looked younger, and her Afro was a little less manicured, but the girl in the photo had the same striking features, the same impeccable skin. The only difference was this girl’s mouth was spread wide in a warm, happy smile. The only smile I’d ever seen on Dr. Tarsus’s face was ice-cold.

“It was her,” I said airlessly. “She’s the one who doctored my mom’s medical file and sent Griffin those fake pregnancy results.”

“You think?” North sounded skeptical.

“She mentioned my mom’s illness,” I said hurriedly. “After class one day. But if what Griffin said is true, my mom didn’t have APD. Or wasn’t diagnosed with it, anyway. So how would Tarsus know about the fake diagnosis unless she’d given it to her?” Something was bothering me as I said it, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“I’m lost,” Hershey said, looking completely confused. “Griffin who?”

“Griffin Payne,” I said. “He’s—He’s my father.”

Hershey’s mouth dropped open. “Shut the front door. Really?”

“He and my mom were married,” I told her. “In high school. But you can’t tell anyone. I mean it, Hershey.”

“Who am I going to tell? I’m a fugitive.” She leaned back against the couch cushions. “Griffin Payne is your father. Wow. If he croaks, you’ll be a billionaire.”

I shot her a look. “Nice, Hershey.” I looked back at North. “Tarsus is behind this. I know it. The only question is why.”

Just then my handheld buzzed with a message. It was from the dean’s assistant.

@DeanAtwaterAsst: Please report to the dean’s office immediately.

“Shit.”

“What is it?” North asked.

“Dean Atwater wants to see me in his office,” I said miserably. “He totally knows about last night.”

“Maybe you should tell him the truth,” North suggested. “About Tarsus and your mom and Griffin. He fought for you once, maybe he’ll do it again.”

“Yeah,” I said, but I wasn’t optimistic. Breaking a rule this boldly was an automatic dismissal. If Tarsus had seen me, the dean’s hands would be tied.

North walked me back to campus. “Do you regret going to the party?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. If we hadn’t gone, I wouldn’t know for sure about Griffin.”

North smiled. “And he wouldn’t know about you. I saw the look on his face when you told him. It was shock followed by sheer joy.”

We walked in silence for a few minutes. “What am I going to do if they kick me out?” I asked quietly as the campus gate came into view. “Theden is everything to me.”

“Because it connects you to your mom?”

“It’s more than that,” I replied, suddenly vulnerable. “I never felt like I belonged back home. I was always the weird girl who was too into school. Not cool enough to pretend it was lame. Here, I get to be me, you know?”

“There are other places like that,” North replied. “Schools that would leap at the chance to have you.”

“None of them are Theden,” I said. “Nowhere else even comes close.” A knot took root at the back of my throat. I tried to swallow it away. Crying wouldn’t help my case. The dean would expect me to be more rational than that.

“Well, whatever happens, you still have me,” North said. “Although I know that’s little consolation.”

I laced my fingers through his. “No. It’s not. It’s a lot.” I chewed on my lip. It was silly, but I couldn’t get the image of that name and phone number out of my head. The loopy, girly handwriting. The red pen. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” North said.

“Who’s Kristyn?” I asked, keeping my voice light.

North looked at me blankly. “Kristyn who?”

“The name and phone number written in Paradise Lost. Kristyn with a y. Is she an old girlfriend?”

North stopped abruptly. “I’ve never dated anyone named Kristyn and there was definitely not a name written in the book when I gave it to you.”

“But there must have been,” I replied. “I certainly didn’t write it.”

“I’m telling you, Rory, that book was in near-pristine condition when I bought it. No markings, no tears. I’ve got a certificate to prove it. And it didn’t leave my apartment until I gave it to you.”

“Then where did the writing come from?”

“I have no idea,” North said. “You said it was a name and phone number. Do you happen to remember the number?”

I rattled off the digits, embarrassed that I’d memorized it.

North typed the number into his handheld. “I’ll see what I can figure out,” he said. We’d reached the campus gate. “Good luck with the dean.”

Turns out, I needed the luck, but not for the reason I thought.

“Every year about a dozen of our brightest students are contacted by a group of students claiming to belong to a secret society,” Dean Atwater said, his voice grave. I was seated across from him in his office, perched on the edge of an oversize leather chair. “This group is not an authorized student organization, and as such, is not permitted to hold meetings on campus.” He paused, as if waiting for me to jump in. I kept my expression neutral.

“A secret society?”

“You are one of our most promising students, Rory,” Dean Atwater went on. “Not only because of your natural aptitude, but also because of your academic performance. If you stay on track, you could graduate at the very top of your class.”

I felt sweat bead on my upper lip. “I plan to,” I said weakly.

“If, however, you involve yourself with this clandestine group, I will have no choice but to dismiss you from our program.” He smiled kindly. “But if you haven’t yet pledged your commitment to them, there’s time to set things right.”

“I don’t know anything about a secret society,” I said, hating the waver in my voice. “No one has contacted me about anything like that.”

“Now, I know there is a sense of prestige associated with this kind of thing. You feel like you’ve been chosen—sought out, even—to be part of an elite group, and I understand how tempting something like that would be.” His eyes were soft. Sympathetic. “But, Rory, you’ve got your future to think about. A very bright future that an association with this group would quickly snuff out.”

I hesitated, and for a moment contemplated telling him the truth. But the society was my closest link to my mom.

“I understand,” I told him. “If they contact me, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

“Excellent,” he replied, rising to his feet. “And I trust that you’ll keep this conversation between us. Discretion is crucial so that my inquiries don’t drive them further underground.” He pressed a button on his desk, and the door behind me opened.

I nodded. “Of course.”

I practically skipped back to North’s apartment.

“You’re smiling,” he said when he opened the door. “You didn’t get kicked out.”

“Nope,” I said happily. “He has no idea about last night.”

“So what’d he want?”

“He just had some questions about my extracurriculars,” I answered, avoiding North’s gaze. I hated lying to him, but I doubted there was a boyfriend exception to the society’s vows.

“That’s great,” North said. “I have some good news too. The phone number you gave me matches the name. It belongs to Kristyn Hildebrand, a clinical psychiatrist at Harvard. Same spelling of Kristyn.”

My forearms prickled with goose bumps. I knew that name. “She’s in my mom’s medical file! Dr. K. Hildebrand. Her signature is on every one of those fake psych entries.” I squeezed his forearms.

“So who wrote her name in my book?”

“I don’t know. The same person who put my mom’s transcript under my pillow, maybe. Whoever it was, we have to talk to this woman.” I pulled out my Gemini and started dialing the number.

North caught my hand. “Don’t tell her who you are,” he warned. “If she’s one of the people on your threat list, then you’re on hers, too. Lux will tell her not to meet with you.”

I put the phone down. “You’re right. It’s better if I do it in person. Catch her completely off guard. Can we go right now?”

“I know you’re eager to talk to this woman,” North said gently, “but don’t you think you should wait until Monday, when she’ll be at her office? If you show up at her house, her guard will immediately go up. Not to mention the fact that we don’t know where she lives.”

He was right, but Monday felt like an eternity away. “Okay.” I sighed. “I’ll wait.”

As I was putting my handheld away, it buzzed with an in­coming message. Unknown sender. Greek letters that morphed into English:

You have passed our evaluation, Zeta. Well done. Be at the eastern gate of Garden Grove Cemetery at 10:25 p.m. Do not come early. Do not be late.

“More good news?” North asked. I was beaming at my screen.

“Uh, yeah,” I said, quickly putting my Gemini away. “School stuff.”

Hershey shot me a suspicious look. She didn’t buy it, but she didn’t call me out.

“Speaking of school stuff,” I said then, “I should probably go. I’ve got a mountain of homework to—”

“Hey, Griffin’s out of surgery,” Hershey said, pointing at the TV screen. The volume was down, but the banner at the bottom read, “Gnosis CEO Griffin Payne expected to recover after nine-hour brain surgery.” Relief washed over me.

“He’s going to be okay,” I said breathlessly. “Hey, what’d you find out about Beck?” I asked suddenly, turning back to North. In all the craziness of the morning, I’d forgotten what I’d come for. “Were you able to hack his profile?”

Hershey’s eyes darted to North. “Wait, you’re a hacker?”

I winced. Hershey saw it.

“What? I’m not going to tell anyone,” Hershey said.

“He’s not a hacker,” I said quickly. “I asked him to try to—”

“Rory, it’s okay,” North said. “I trust her. But, no, I couldn’t access Beck’s profile. Well, I could, but it was just a placeholder. The data had been migrated to a different server.”

“That’s weird, right?”

“Nah. My guess is Gnosis has built a new infrastructure for the Gold, and that Beck’s profile was moved over when he joined the beta test. I should be able to get into it, I just have to find it first.”

“Oooh, your boyfriend is so hot when he talks hacker,” Hershey said coyly. I rolled my eyes. “Oh, shut up, Rory Vaughn,” she said, thrusting a hand on her hip. “You know you’ve missed me.”

I couldn’t help but smile. She was right. I had.

At exactly 10:25 that night, I approached the cemetery gate. I was using Lux for the first time in weeks, not wanting to take any chances with my arrival time.

A robed figure stood at the gate like an eerie grim reaper. I shivered beneath my down coat. “Hey,” the figure said as I walked up, the familiar voice immediately putting me at ease. It was Liam. “Ready?”

“Yep,” I said, and lifted my tongue.

The air in the arena was cold and still. I blinked rapidly, my eyes struggling to adjust to the dark. There were others, I could hear them rustling, but the space around me was pitch-black.

Minutes passed in near silence. I waited and watched, gradually able to make out shapes in the darkness. People arrived in twos, one leading another to a spot on the stone steps. As more people arrived, the rustling got louder, but no one spoke.

Then out of the silence:

“Congratulations! The evaluation is over. The eleven of you have passed our test.” I recognized the voice of the serpent figure, mechanically distorted as before, but the air of formality was gone. His voice was kind and casual, familiar even, despite the distorted edge. “We know you have questions. Who are we, where are we, what’s with all the masks.” There were little bursts of nervous laughter in the darkness. “I promise you, all of your questions will be answered very soon. For now I can tell you this: we are hoi oligoi sophoi. The Wise Few. Or, simply, the Few.”

There was an explosion of light below as the stage lit up in a ring of fire. The serpent stood in the center, wearing an oversize gold crown. He reminded me of Prince John in the old Robin Hood cartoon, and I had to bite my lip not to laugh.

“You have been chosen,” the serpent declared, raising his voice over the crackle of the fire. “Now you must choose. If you join us, you will be asked to dedicate your lives to the service of others. To use your gifts for the betterment of mankind. You will be called to a grander, more significant purpose. To see the world not for what it is, but for what it could be.”

See the world for what it could be. That was exactly what the Doubt did. It gave you the eyes to see beyond the moment you were in. A grander, more significant purpose. Yes. That was what I wanted. To live for something other than myself.

“Initiation is in two days,” I heard the serpent say. “You have until then to decide. Choose wisely, friends.”

My right knee was throbbing. I was standing at the foot of my bed, holding a black velvet knapsack cinched shut with gold rope. My Gemini was lit up on my bed, my Notepad open on my screen:

Put ice on your knee.—L

I looked down at Hershey’s jeans. The right knee was scuffed with mud. Stepping out of my shoes, I yanked open the knapsack. Inside was a robe cut from crimson red velvet, a zeta symbol, and the number thirty embroidered in gold on the lapel. “Woo-hoo!” I yelled, doing an awkward victory dance.

I was in.