Enchanted Ivy (14 page)

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Tye had told her about this, the time the dragon killed a Key and escaped the chapel. She hadn't thought to wonder about his other victims. "If Jake hadn't pulled me away ..."

"Yes, we could have had another FitzRandolph Gate Tragedy on our hands," Grandpa said. "But thankfully, that didn't happen, so let's not dwell on it right now. Once you begin your training, we'll focus on avoiding reckless endangerment."

She didn't have a chance to reply. Surrounded by the half-dozen alums, she was herded toward Jake and the door. As she reached him, Jake blushed heavily before mumbling, "Congratulations, Lily."

She tried to think of something, anything, to say to him. No wonder he'd been so agitated at the chapel--he'd been in the presence of his parents' killer.

Jake looked as if he wanted to say more but he glanced at his grandfather instead.

Mr. Mayfair smiled warmly at her and said, "Well done, Lily Carter. And welcome." He shook Grandpa's hand. "Congratulations, Richard. You were right."

"Of course I was," Grandpa said. "I know my tigerlily." Beaming even more broadly than before, Grandpa ushered Lily inside.

Within the club, the weird radio static in her head faded beneath the hum of conversation. The club was packed with alums. They filled the leather couches and leaned against the mahogany walls. She hesitated just inside the doorway.

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"Don't be nervous now," Grandpa whispered in her ear. "You passed! You're one of us!"

By the grand staircase, she saw a spread of cheese squares and a fondue fountain with skewers of fruit. Her stomach rumbled in response.
You can't be nervous in a place with fondue,
she told herself.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, Grandpa boomed to the assembly, "Allow me to present our newest member, my granddaughter, Lily, soon to be a Princeton freshman and our very own Key!"

All the Old Boys applauded. A few of the younger ones whistled and cheered. Others clapped politely and then swilled their whiskey and resumed their conversations.

As she and her grandfather ventured farther into the club, alums flocked to them. All the Old Boys that she remembered from her initial meeting--the man who'd held the book upside down, the heavyset woman with the ivory cane, the primly postured women--welcomed her. Others introduced themselves and shook her hand. She'd never had so many adults notice her before. Part of her wanted to bolt out of the club.

She spotted trays of pastry puffs. Someone offered her a shrimp. Grandpa accepted a drink. He clinked glasses with a nearby member and began to chat. A circle of alumni closed around her. Lily shifted her weight nervously as they studied her with a fascination that was more than a little bit alarming. She took a pastry puff and shoved it into her mouth. It was a

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good excuse for not saying anything. She hadn't the faintest idea how to start a conversation with these people. Plus she hadn't eaten since a rest stop on the New Jersey Turnpike that morning. She grabbed a second puff.

"Did you see any indication of military activity?" one man asked.

She nearly choked on the pastry. She swallowed. "Sorry?"

He wore an orange cravat and had eyebrows like woolly caterpillars. "Any large gatherings? Anything that could have been a training camp?" he asked.

Her appetite vanished. "It was a college campus," Lily said, "a lot like the real Princeton. But the students had more fur, feathers, and fangs."

"And what were those 'students' studying?" a woman asked. She was young, clearly a recent grad, and spoke with a Japanese accent. She regarded Lily intently, as if she were cataloging Lily's every breath.

"Please understand, we do trust the professors," said the man who had held the book upside down. "But the majority of them have not seen their home in a full century."

One of the prim women chimed in. "Exactly why we should seize this opportunity to convene a summit! Now that we'll have a Key we can trust, we can renew relations. We will be able to send envoys freely, perhaps resume scientific expeditions. We can end our isolationism!"

Ignoring her, the man with the orange cravat said,

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"Numbers, weaponry, anything you learned about strategy or fighting styles. Any observations at all?"

The prim woman interrupted. "That is precisely the attitude--"

"We need to know--," the man began.

"You need lessons in diplomacy," the woman said. "Perhaps if you lessened your testosterone-laden xenophobia--"

"I am
realistic,
not xenophobic!"

All the Old Boys around her pressed in closer as the argument heated up. Lily wished she could sink against a wall and disappear. She glanced over at her grandfather for help, but he was engrossed in his own conversation.

"What sort of intelligence did the council glean from you?" a man in a striped blazer asked. "How much information did you volunteer?"

"Nothing!" Lily said. "They said to remind the 'knights' of Princeton that they don't condone Feeders, and they support you."

"See!" the prim woman said. "It's time to normalize relations! Refresh our treaties! Confirm our alliance!"

"Propaganda," the man with the orange cravat said. "This is useless. She's useless!"

Finally coming to her rescue, Grandpa put his hands on Lily's shoulders. "She hasn't been trained," he said. "She has zero background. You can't expect--"

"Trained or not, she could supply valuable intel,
if
she chooses to and
if
she hasn't already decided her loyalties

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lie against us." The man pounded his fist into his palm for emphasis.

Grandpa's face darkened. "Are you questioning my grand-daughter's integrity?" His voice was low, even, and clipped. Lily barely breathed. She'd heard him take that tone of voice only a few times before. Last time had been at a man who'd tried to corner Mom, mistaking her flightiness for flirting. Lily shrank back, again wishing she could disappear. "I have raised her as human," Grandpa said. "If you question her, then you question me." He thumped his chest for emphasis. "Are you questioning
me
?"

Had Grandpa really said "as human"? Lily wanted to ask him again about her father, but she was positive that this wasn't the right time or place. She'd be better off if she didn't speak at all. If she could shrink to mouse size and sneak away, that would be good, too.

Mr. Mayfair interrupted. "Gentlemen and ladies, if you don't mind, I need to steal our guest of honor for a moment." The orange-cravat man scowled as if he wanted to object. "Our sommelier has obtained a few bottles of high-quality Bordeaux. Please, it would be a crime to waste them." Encouraged by Mr. Mayfair, the knot of alumni around Lily dispersed.

Lily's knees felt as if they'd been jellied. Usually the scariest person in her day was her AP Chem teacher. She wasn't used to facing an inquisition over pastry puffs. "Thank you," she said to Mr. Mayfair. He inclined his head.

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Grandpa was still fuming. "You're untrained! How anyone could expect--"

"Fear breeds impatience," Mr. Mayfair said. "And they have been afraid, ever since reports began trickling in about the Feeders uniting. ... But that's not talk for today. This is a joyous occasion!" He smiled and winked at Lily, and she began to feel better. Mr. Mayfair exuded calmness. He was like a tree with wide, sheltering solid branches in the middle of a rainstorm. "Her approach to the truth was ... unconventional, but she completed the Legacy Test in record time and demonstrated the necessary flexibility in her worldview. I have no doubt that she will be a great asset to us in our battles."

"Battles?" she asked.

"We defend the innocent against the evil they do not know exists," Mr. Mayfair said. Gesturing at all the people in the room, he spread his arms out wide. "We, the knights of Princeton, protect the world."

Knights of Princeton.
She pictured Mr. Mayfair in a suit of armor. Surprisingly, the image didn't seem so strange. He'd look like King Arthur.

Mr. Mayfair laid a hand on her shoulder. "I know you must have many questions, but before anything else, we must drain you," he said. "I was remiss not to take care of that right away. Please accept my apologies."

"Drain me?" Lily squeaked.

"Don't worry. It will only take a few minutes and then

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you'll feel like yourself again," Grandpa said. He kissed her on the forehead. "You can trust Mr. Mayfair."

Mr. Mayfair smiled reassuringly at her. "It's a safe procedure," he said. "I know precisely when to stop."

She felt as if she were in the doctor's office and the nurse was holding a giant needle and claiming,
This won't hurt a bit.
"What's the procedure?" Lily asked as Mr. Mayfair steered her through the reception crowd. She glanced back at Grandpa. He wasn't following them. Instead, he was weaving his way toward the fondue table.

"You'll be fine, my dear," Mr. Mayfair said as he guided her downstairs to the taproom.

He laid his hand on a wood-paneled wall beside the bar, and a panel slid open to reveal a hidden room. Lily peered inside. Shelves filled with unmarked bottles lined one of the walls. "What is all this stuff?" she asked.

"Please, have a seat." Mr. Mayfair selected an empty bottle and nodded at a heavy wooden chair. It had restraints on the arms and the front legs, not unlike an electrocution chair.

"I'd really rather not--," she began.

"Sit, Miss Carter," he said as he prepared an IV-like needle. He connected it to a tube that led to a tangle of beakers, glass tubes, and exposed electrical circuits. He flicked a switch, and the contraption began to whir softly.

"No offense meant," she said, "but don't you think that looks a little mad scientist-like?"

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"We call it the drainer." He patted the heart of tangled tubes. "It's designed to extract the excess magic that now flows through your bloodstream due to your exposure to the atmosphere of the alternate world."

Lily backed away. "I feel fine."

He favored her with another reassuring smile. "Believe me, this is necessary and for your own good. You are currently a danger to yourself and others."

"Can't we just wait for the magic to leach out of me?" She couldn't take her eyes off the needle. "Seriously, 'drainer'?"

"You may have noticed that with your heritage, some of the members of Vineyard Club are having difficulty with your impending membership." He attached an empty bottle to the drainer and said in a mild voice, "It would be a shame to give them cause to doubt you, especially before admissions papers have been filed."

"But I passed the test!" Lily said.

"You might even be viewed as a threat, given the knowledge of us that you now possess." He patted the chair. "Lily, please trust us so we can trust you."

She wasn't trying to be ornery. She
did
trust him. He was her grandfather's oldest friend, and he had an air about him that seemed noble, honorable, even knightly. But ... She pointed at the restraints. "Do I have to wear those?"

"Of course not," he said in a soothing voice. "You merely need to lay your arm on the armrest so that it remains steady for several minutes."

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Gingerly, she sat down in the chair. "You've done this before?" she asked.

Nurselike, he rolled up her sleeve. "Many times." He selected a plastic tube from a drawer and tied it tightly around her bicep. He tapped the veins in her arm, and then he swabbed them with alcohol. She wondered if he was going to offer her Hello Kitty stickers and a lollipop when he finished. She turned her head as he readied the needle.

Footsteps thumped down the stairs.

Jake burst into the taproom. "Sir, Feeders are attacking Forbes!" He halted in the doorway to the hidden room. His eyes scanned the shelves, his grandfather, and Lily. "Whoa, what's all this?"

Mr. Mayfair laid the needle down. "Multiple Feeders?" he asked.

"At least a dozen," Jake said. "They never--"

"Has the area been secured?" Mr. Mayfair interrupted.

"Campus security is en route," Jake reported crisply. "Our alums are evacuating civilians." Mr. Mayfair strode out of the room. Jake followed him without even glancing at Lily. "Sir, it's a coordinated attack. No report of the new leader yet, but that's the only explanation for their behavior...." His voice faded as they went up the stairs.

Lily wasn't sure if she was supposed to follow or not. She untied the tourniquet around her arm and waited for a moment to see if Jake or Mr. Mayfair returned for her. No one came. She listened to footsteps thump overhead. She bet

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she was the only one down here ... in a hidden room ... in an electrocution chair. ...

She fled the room.

She halted at the top of the stairs. Wooden panels in the walls had been opened to reveal hidden compartments full of swords, knives, machetes, crossbows, vials of liquids, strings of garlic, packets of herbs ... As Mr. Mayfair barked orders, weapons were passed out and tucked into pockets and underneath Reunions jackets.

Across the room, Grandpa strapped a sheathed sword onto his back and then hid it beneath his psychedelic zebra coat. Lily felt her jaw drop open. She tried to imagine her grandfather swinging a sword. She'd seen him wield pruning shears, slice up a chicken breast, and peel an apple, but that didn't seem the same. One of the prim ladies tucked a dismantled crossbow into an oversize purse. Nearby, Jake was adding a knife to a holster attached to his ankle underneath his khakis.

"Knives? Swords?" she asked Jake. Her voice sounded shrill to her ears.

"Part of protecting civilians is preserving normalcy," Jake said. He sounded as crisp and stiff as he had when he'd addressed his grandfather. "Gunfire is too difficult to disguise. Plus too many magic creatures are impervious to modern weaponry."

That wasn't what she'd meant to ask about. "What's happening?"