Unhappy Medium (6 page)

Madame Serena’s voice trembled. She seemed to be moving herself to tears with her own words.

“Perhaps this isn’t the right time to focus on Loretta,” I suggested.

Madame Serena gave a little sob, and retrieved a handkerchief from the sleeve of her gown.

“Poor, dear Loretta,” she said. “The Colonel’s wife said she was not but two years old when she passed.”

That was sad.

“Madame Serena,” I said. “We need to talk about something else before we can help the Colonel’s wife find Loretta.”

She looked at me, wide-eyed and tearful. Her turban was drooping over one eyebrow.

“What is it, Simple Cat?” Madame Serena asked, in a voice barely above a whisper. Like maybe she suspected it wasn’t necessarily
good news.

Someone banged on my door.

Finally, Jac!

“Madame Serena, I need to —” I stopped midsentence.

She had gone.

It was just as well. I needed to get my head around who was where in the afterlife, and how to best sort them all out. I opened
the door with an expectant smile.

“Mrs. Gray!” I said, surprised.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Katherine,” she said. “But is Jackie in here? It’s almost nine o’clock, and she hasn’t been back
to our room.”

I stifled a cry of dismay.

“I was supposed to tell you! I’m so sorry, Mrs. Gray. Jac went for a walk with some of the musicians, and I told her I’d let
you know. It’s my fault — I completely forgot!”

Mrs. Gray nodded and sighed.

“No, it’s quite all right Katherine, thank you. I’m just glad to know where she is. I’m afraid I missed dinner and the Parents
of Protégés meeting — my head ached so dreadfully I just couldn’t leave my room. Perhaps I’m coming down with something.”

I studied Mrs. Gray’s face in the dim light. She did look a bit odd — not the polished, perfect face I was accustomed to.

“Do you want me to run downstairs and see if I can rustle you up something to eat?” I asked.

She gave me a wan smile.

“Thanks, Katherine. That’s very kind of you, but I’m really not hungry. I’ll just get comfortable with a good book and wait
for Jackie to come back.”

Somehow I doubted that Jac was going to be too chatty with her mother when she returned. She had seemed awfully anti-mother
when I left her. I felt a flash of irritation at my best friend. I knew she wanted to sleep in my room, but I suddenly resolved
to lock my door, and leave a note that I’d gone to sleep. For tonight, at least, let Jac be stuck in her mom’s room. Maybe
she’d relent and let her mom know she’d been hanging out with a boy.

I normally didn’t go to bed this early, but suddenly curling up under the covers was all I wanted to do. It would be a peaceful
and refreshing night.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

I was standing in the hallway outside my room. I had no idea what time it was, or even how I’d gotten out of my room. I must
have been sleepwalking. From the absolute lack of sound and light I guessed it must be around three in the morning.

What on earth am I doing here?
I wondered. There certainly didn’t seem to be any reason that I’d come into the hallway. I had never been a sleepwalker.
I decided to go back into my room immediately, and get into bed again, hoping this was a onetime deal.

But I couldn’t move.

My feet were rooted to the floor, and I couldn’t even wiggle my fingers. A feeling of panicked doom began to overtake me.

I was facing the door to room 504, where Jac and her mom were sleeping. I opened my mouth to call out to Jac. Yeah, it’d be
embarrassing to have the two of them come out and find me there. But I needed help, and right now I didn’t care how it looked.

I could barely make a tiny exhaling sound. I couldn’t even whisper Jac’s name. No power to move, no power to speak. And the
feeling of doom kept growing. My eyes were stuck on the door to room 504.

It flew open with a bang.

Inside the room, it was pitch black. Actually, it was even darker than that.

Back at school, when Jac and I were trying to contact the spirit of Suzanne Bennis, we’d gone to the school library at dawn
to have a séance. I saw something there that day — something I tried not to think about. A thing that was neither human nor
spirit. It was more of a … presence. A presence that hung in an inky black cloud that was not so much a dark shape, but
the absolute absence of light. A malevolent black hole.

I was seeing the same shape now, in the room before me. The room where my best friend and her mother were sleeping.

I had to wake them!

The more I tried to scream and the harder I attempted to move forward, the more frozen I became. I felt as if my entire body
was turning to ice, and in fact I could see a cloud of vapor forming in front of my mouth every time I breathed out. The large
window at the end of the hallway was open, but there was no way, even on a cool night in June, that it was anywhere near freezing
outside. I struggled to get even an inch closer to the room, determined to get through that door no matter what it took.

Until the black cloud inside the room began to move toward me.

I could feel the thing more clearly than I could see it. Its closeness made me shake uncontrollably and feel physically sick.
It bore no resemblance to anything I’d sensed from human spirits. But it seemed to have intelligence. Or at least desire.
Because every cell in my body sensed that this thing wanted to cause harm — to me or any human it could reach. And it was
still moving closer.

It wasn’t until the black cloud was almost on top of me that I remembered the energy blocks that Orin had taught me. I envisioned
a golden bubble of light springing up around me like a force field. I sent a call for protection to the grid of energy Orin
called the Divine Matrix. The darkness was still advancing, but as it reached me I could feel resistance. The cloud was not
swallowing me up like I suspected it meant to.

It was pushing against me. But for the first time, I felt like I was able to push back.

I am protected,
I thought, as forcefully as possible.
You cannot touch me.

But it was strong. It was so incredibly powerful. Though it couldn’t seem to penetrate the bubble of energy I’d created, it
moved against me so hard I felt my feet slipping and sliding on the floor. There didn’t seem to be anything I could do to
get rid of it, though being so near the black cloud made me frantic — like I was covered with spiders or cockroaches. The
sensation was unbearable.

It pushed me harder and harder. Not toward my room, and not back into room 504. The cloud was pushing me down the hall. Fast.
Right toward the huge window that stood open and inviting like a magic door into the night.

I suddenly realized what the black cloud was trying to do.

“No!” I yelled, finding my voice. “Let me go!”

My command had no effect. I felt something hard against my leg, and looked down to see the window ledge pressing into my thigh.

I would not let it. I could not let the black cloud push me out that window.

But suddenly there was nothing under my feet. I felt the hard surface of the window ledge brush beneath me, and I reached
out and grabbed either side of the window frame with both hands. I dug my nails into the wood as tightly as I could. For a
minute, I thought I might be okay.

Then something slammed into my back like a giant fist, and I was pushed over the windowsill, and my mind only had time to
register the fresh cool air, a glimpse of a spectacular night sky, and a sickening whoosh as the ground rushed five stories
to collide with my body.

When my body hit, the surface was impossibly soft and flexible. I opened my eyes, gasping for breath, and looked up at the
ceiling of my room. I had kicked the covers down into a ball by my feet. The digital clock on the bedside table said 3:37.

I burst into tears.

To say that I’d had a bad dream was like calling the
Titanic
a bad boat trip. Clearly, I was back in bed and not splattered on the Mountain House lawn, but whatever had gone on was much
more than a nightmare.

I didn’t think I’d ever get back to sleep, and I actually didn’t want to, for fear the whole thing might start up again. But
the last time I remembered looking at the clock it was 4:15, and when I opened my eyes again the room was bright with sunlight.

The rays of sun streaming through the window were more comforting than I could possibly explain. I lay in bed like a statue,
savoring the warmth and light on my face. I felt like I could stay that way all day, but the peaceful moment was interrupted
by a loud knock on my door.

“Yeah?” I called.

“It’s almost eleven o’clock. What are you doing?”

I didn’t want to get up and open the door. I’d locked it before going to sleep, but maybe when I was sleepwalking … but
no. There had been no sleepwalking. I’d awakened in my own bed, proof it had been a dream. Wasn’t it?

The door opened and Jac marched in, looking none too pleased with me. She didn’t give me time to wonder about the door being
unlocked after all; she just started right in on me.

“Thank you so much,” Jac said, standing with her arms folded over her chest and looking decidedly unthankful.

“Wha — ?” That was all I could muster. I wanted to stay in bed with the sun on my face, not join the world, which at this
moment was represented by Jac, and a cranky one at that.

“No, really, I’m so
incredibly
grateful.”

“Um … you’re welcome?”

I hoped Jac might be serious, and not sarcastic. She could be referring to the graceful way in which I’d allowed her to head
off with Dream Boy, leaving me all by myself. But Jac’s expression was now unmistakable — she was glowering at me. Not a happy
camper.

“Ugh, what is your
problem
,” Jac cried, stamping one tiny foot on the floor. “I come back upstairs last night and your door is locked and there’s this
Post-it telling me you’ve gone to sleep and I have to go spend the night with my mother! I mean seriously, Kat — what is wrong
with you?”

I pulled the covers up to my chin, wanting to hide under them.

“Nothing,” I said. “It’s what the note said. I got tired. I went to bed.”

And locked the door, or so I thought.

“This week was supposed to be you and me,” Jac said, her arms still folded over her chest. “Do you honestly think I came to
this conference to have a slumber party with
my mother
? We’re supposed to be hanging out, Kat! You totally blew me off!”

Abandoning the comfort of the covers, I sat up in bed.

“Oh really?” I cried. “Is that your version of who blew off whom, Jac? You dumped me by the lake for Dream Boy, then you dumped
me at dinner for Dream Boy, then you get all torqued out because when you finally come looking for me I’m sleeping?”

Jac opened her mouth and took a deep breath, then stopped and shut her mouth. She stood over me scowling, but I knew Jac’s
expression. This particular scowl indicated thought, not anger.

“You said it … I mean, it was only because …”

Jac paused, and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I mean,” she continued more quietly, “I thought you said it was okay for me to go with Colin.”

Her green eyes filled with tears and she looked away to hide the fact.

“It
was
okay,” I said. “I was psyched for you, Jac. I still am. But I ended up kind of having a boring night, with a little Cro-Magnon
drama thrown in, and I don’t think you should have all this attitude just because I went to bed early.”

She turned her face toward me, the tears gone.

“You’re right, Kat. Totally right. I’m just in a bad mood because I had to spend the night sharing a bed with
her.
I’m sorry.”

I looked at her face carefully. There were no dark circles under
her
eyes.

“It’s okay. Yeah, um, how’d you sleep?”

“How did I sleep?” Jac asked.

I nodded.

“Fine, I guess,” she said. “In spite of the fact that I had to share a bed with my mother.”

“It’s a king-sized bed,” I pointed out. “The bed in there is, like, bigger than my bathroom at home. It’s bigger than our
whole car!”

“It wasn’t big enough,” Jac said ruefully. “She kept tossing and turning all night. Muttering things, or something.”

“She did? But you slept okay?” I repeated.

“God, yes, I slept fine. Are we on hidden camera or something?” Jac asked.

You have no idea,
I thought.

“Did something happen last night?” Jac said, her eyes suddenly gleaming. “Tell me!”

But I wasn’t ready to talk about that.

“Like I said, I was wiped out and I went to sleep. End of story.”

Jac grabbed one of my pillows, and stretched out on her back propping herself up on one of the bedposts.

“Then what did you mean by Cro-Magnon drama?” she demanded. “Something did so happen, and I want to know what.”

I was relieved to have the chance to talk about something other than room 504.

“Ugh, I went to one of the sitting rooms last night and I ended up meeting this guy,” I began.

“What?” Jac shrieked.

“This
horrible
guy. He works here — actually, he’s like a Whispering Pines brat — his family owns the place.”

Jac waggled her eyebrows, but I shook my head.

“No, seriously, I’ve seen better looking hobbits,” I said. “It’s not like that. This was no Colin, Maestra. I was sitting
there reading this pamphlet about the history of the Mountain House, because I still needed to find out stuff about Madame
Serena. He came in, and started talking to me, and he knew who Madame Serena was.”

Jac sat up.

“No way!” she exclaimed. “So, who was she?”

“A so-called medium,” I told her.

“So-called … what?”

“Yeah,” I said. “His words. My reaction exactly. He’s telling me basically that Madame Serena lived here in the late 1800s,
and I guess she had clients that came to her trying to contact their departed relatives. But he totally mocked the whole concept,
you know, and he’s looking at me and laughing like ‘How pathetic for anyone to claim to be a so-called medium …’ and anyway,
I lost my temper and stormed out. There you have it — my Cro-Magnon drama in a nutshell.”