All That Lives Must Die - Eric Nylund [24]
“No one sponsored us,” Fiona said. She changed subjects to avoid the League and its code of silence. “I don’t understand something,” she said to Jeremy. “You were in Purgatory. There are only supposed to be dead people there. How can you be here . . . alive?”
Jeremy laughed. “No, my dear Fiona. Not dead. Never dead. It would take more than a trifling thing like Purgatory to stop a Covington.”
6
NOT A POPULARITY CONTEST
Eliot took a step back from Jeremy and Sarah Covington. They were smiling, but he got the feeling it wasn’t because they liked him. More like they were making a joke.
Fiona was no help. She wasn’t paying attention to them; instead, she scanned the other students.
“You see,” Jeremy said, continuing with his story, “the year was 1853, and I was chasing a leprechaun.”
“What’s a leprechaun?” Eliot asked.
Jeremy’s and Sarah’s smiles faltered, and the students around them gave Eliot a weird look, like he’d just asked what oxygen was.
Then Jeremy grinned again. “So true! Who really knows what they be, eh? Pots of gold and three wishes—balderdash, I entirely agree. That’s what I set out to prove: The Fey be not the living legends all claim.”
Eliot nodded, realizing this was something he ought to have known.
“So the thing led me on a merry chase through every swamp and graveyard in Scotland,” Jeremy said. “Thought she could lose me with a romp through the Middle Realms, but I followed her right to the bloody center of Purgatory . . . where I got a bit distracted.”
Middle Realms. Eliot made a mental note about that, but didn’t ask any more questions. No need to look like a complete idiot.6
“You got trapped in the Valley of the New Year,” Fiona said, her attention returning to the conversation.
“Why, yes, dearest Fiona,” Jeremy replied. “Then you came along and found the doorway out of that wretched place. Rescued me, body and soul.”
Sarah’s heart-shaped face brightened, and she reassessed Fiona. “So this is the girl who brought you back? The Clan Covington is in your debt, miss.”
Fiona fiddled with her hair. “It was nothing, really.”
“Wait . . . ,” Eliot said. “You were trapped for over a hundred and fifty years?”
“Aye.” Jeremy shrugged. “You might say I’m starting my freshman year at Paxington a tad delayed.”
The Headmistress returned. A dozen older students entered with her, and some moved to the windows, drawing long black curtains, while others turned up the gas lamps on the opposite wall.
Miss Westin removed her glasses. She looked different in gaslight: younger, more animated, and vital. A faint smile crossed her pale lips.
“Team selection is starting,” Sarah said, and touched Jeremy’s arm.
“Aye.” Jeremy tensed and cast a quick glance at Fiona and Eliot.
Eliot didn’t like the sound of this “team” stuff. He wasn’t good in groups.
Miss Westin cleared her throat, and everyone in the room was quiet. “Freshman team selection,” she said, “is a tradition that dates to the foundation of this school.7
“It tests your skills of diplomacy and strategic thinking. I advise you to combine disparate elements to make something greater than the sum of its parts.” Every trace of warmth and color drained from Miss Westin’s expression. “This should not be a popularity contest.”
She motioned to the side door, and more upperclassman entered, carrying claw-footed tables. They set them at the head of the room. On each table were silver trays containing gold coins.
Miss Westin gestured to each tray and said, “Knight . . . Wolf . . . Dragon . . . Hand . . . Eagle . . . and Scarab—in their various incarnations. These will be the symbols about which you must unite with seven other students.”
Eliot glanced at the Paxington crest on his jacket. Those same symbols hovered over his heart, part of the school’s history.
He looked at Fiona. She shrugged, looking as awkward and uncomfortable as he felt—like they were two guppies in a tank of piranhas.
Jeremy swaggered up to a table. “I, Jeremy Covington, of the Clan Covington, Keeper of the Keys of the Three Stones, hereby claim Scarab as mine.” He plucked up one