Conspiracies - Mercedes Lackey [110]
Desperately, she started chanting the first thing she could think of.
Multiplication tables. Neat, orderly, logical. Always the same.
“One times one is one,” she shouted hoarsely. “One times two is two. One times three is three. One times four is four.”
The others caught on pretty quickly to what she was doing and, raggedly, their voices joined hers as the dining room emptied, the screaming was all somewhere distant, and the terror tried to force their hands apart.
They got as far as the twelve times when suddenly, with no more warning than when it had descended, the fear vanished.
In the next moment, the lights came back up.
And there they were, sitting around the table, blinking in the light like a bunch of spiritualists interrupted at a séance. Around them the room was a wreck: tables overturned, chairs flung all over, food and dishes on the floor and broken. There were two people here besides them, and both were huddled in far corners, weeping and shaking, curled in fetal positions.
Doc Mac charged into the Refectory a moment later, hair wild, eyes wilder. He spotted them, and barked out, “Stay here! Don’t move until another teacher or one of the Breakthrough people comes!” and dashed out again.
They looked at each other, then at their shattered classmates in the corners. Spirit shrugged, got up, and went over to one of them. Addie joined her a moment later, and they tried to get Sharon Hastings to uncurl. Loch and Burke went to the other—Noreen Templeton. Muirin stayed where she was, paper white, eyes dilated, shaking.
Truth to tell, Spirit wasn’t far from that, herself.
Finally Lily Groves showed up, grim-faced and angry. By that time the friends had managed to get Sharon and Noreen over to the table; for lack of anything better, since they were shaking like leaves, Spirit had gotten a couple of the tablecloths that weren’t too splattered and wrapped them around their shoulders. Addie was getting them—and Muirin—to drink some hot tea so loaded with sugar it was practically syrup.
“Nothing fixes things like a nice cup of hot tea,” she was saying firmly, as Ms. Groves shoved open the Refectory doors.
“That’s seven,” she said into a handheld radio she was carrying. “Hastings, Spears, Templeton, White, Lake, Hallows, and Shae.”
The radio cracked. “Roger that. Get them to their rooms. We’re still searching.”
Addie was already getting Noreen to her feet. Spirit did the same for Sharon, then Muirin. “We heard, Ms. Groves,” Burke said as he took Sharon’s elbow, then put his arm around her. “You don’t mind if Loch and I take them to their rooms—”
“Go, go, go—” Ms. Groves said impatiently. “Rules are temporarily suspended. In fact, if you all want to huddle in the same room, I authorize it, just as long as we know where you are. Do you?”
They looked at each other. “Yes, please,” said Muirin in a small voice.
“Mine’s closest,” said Addie.
“All seven going to Lake’s room,” Ms. Groves barked into her radio as they passed her.
It took a lot longer than Spirit liked, shepherding Sharon and Noreen along. “I have a bad feeling this isn’t over,” she told the others quietly, when they finally got into the hall on the girls’ floor.
“Yeah,” Burke replied, his eyes going everywhere, as if he was looking for danger. Probably he was. Finally, they got into Addie’s room, which was supernaturally neat. Addie closed the door, then the curtains, and lit a candle. And a good thing, too, because fifteen minutes later, the power went out again, and the fear descended.
Sharon and Noreen wailed for a moment then passed out on the bed.
Addie put the candle on the floor; the rest of them huddled over that candle like a campfire, staring at it as if it was their salvation—
Which it was. Somehow, with that light there, the fear wasn’t able to get hold of them as thoroughly. They were able to think. It was Loch who began to recite this time. Recite, and then sing, hoarsely. And it was the filthiest song Spirit had ever heard in her life. The lyrics