The Paladin Prophecy

MOM AND DAD

Are you Awake? He’s an only child … 1990 … the Paladin Prophecy … Roman numerals … clinics … test scores … the Greenwood Foundation.

Open all doors, and Awaken.

Fragments swirled in Will’s mind. He slowly became aware that he was lying on his back, on a bed with crisp linen sheets. No idea how long he’d been out. And he felt someone was there with him. He opened his eyes. He was in a room in the medical center. When he looked around, there they were, both of them, sitting by his bed in the pale moonlight.

Mom and Dad. Jordan and Belinda. Really them. When they saw him come around, they hurried to his side and held him in their arms, took turns hugging him.

“We were so afraid we’d lost you,” said his mom. “Thank God, Will.”

“I knew you were all right,” said Will. “The whole time. I just knew it.”

“We’re so proud of you, son,” said his dad. “They’ve filled us in on everything. We knew you could do it.”

“I don’t know how. I really don’t. I had a lot of help from my friends. I couldn’t have done it alone.”

“We never doubted you,” said his mom.

“You came through for us, Will,” said his dad. “Exactly the way we trained you. The way we always expected you to.”

“Where have you been?” asked Will. “What happened to you?”

Jordan and Belinda looked at each other and smiled a secret smile. As his mom turned her head, Will saw her neck: no scar.

“Should we tell him?” asked Jordan, cleaning his glasses.

Belinda smiled gently, reached over, and absentmindedly brushed the hair off Will’s forehead. “There’s so much to tell,” she said.

Will heard soft music. His dad had brought along a record player. A black disk was spinning on the turntable on the other side of the room, the needle riding on the vinyl, a hiss and a pop during the chorus: All you need is love … All you need is love … All you need is love, love … Love is all you need …

“You’re so close to cracking it, Will,” said Jordan.

Feeling suddenly uneasy, Will’s eyes darted around the room. A vase of fresh flowers—white chrysanthemums—sat on a table under the window, in a shaft of moonlight. A compass and a steel ruler sat next to the vase. There was a chessboard nearby: two black knights confronting a squad of white pawns. He heard a ball bouncing on the floor, looked to his left, and saw two old wooden tennis rackets resting in the corner. Strangest of all, a falcon perched on the top of a chair beside them. Staring right at Will, fierce and regal.

In the doorway, half in the shadows, stood Coach Jericho. What looked like blood dripped steadily from his left arm, hanging limp at his side.

“You saw one of them,” said Jericho. “One of the Old Race. Wi-indi-ko.”

The needle got stuck in a groove, skipping the lyrics: … love … love.… love …

“I’m sorry?” asked Will, confused.

“The Prophecy,” said his dad. “We should have told you. A long time ago.”

“But there were things we didn’t want you to know,” said his mom, leaning in. “We love you so much, but you never really knew us. We couldn’t let you. For your own safety. Even before you were born.”

Will opened his eyes.

He was in a hospital bed, in a room in the infirmary or medical center. Lights dimmed, darkness outside the window. He winced; everything ached. An IV was plugged into his left arm.

Coach Jericho sat by the side of the bed. His left arm was in a sling, under a long black leather coat hanging over his shoulders. His bronze face looked as hard and unyielding as flint.

“Am I still dreaming?” said Will.

“No,” said Jericho. “You’re awake.”

Awake. Will tried to read him but couldn’t. “How much do you know?”

“Enough.”

“Did you know some of your guys were involved?”

“I do now,” said Jericho.

“You won’t have much of a team left.”

“Don’t need a team,” said Jericho. “I have you.”

Will closed his eyes, remembering parts of the dream. “What’s a wendigo?”

“Apex predator,” said Jericho. “Strong expression of weasel medicine.”

“What, they kill more than they eat?” asked Will.

“Except the Wi-indi-ko feeds on souls,” said Jericho. “And it’s never satisfied.”

Will thought about Lyle’s body, twitching on the ground, and shivered. “I saw an animal in my dream,” he said. “A falcon.”

Jericho thought about that and gave the slightest smile.

“Is that good?” asked Will.

“You tell me, when you get to know it better,” said Jericho. Then he leaned in and whispered, “It’s a crucial time now. Be careful what you say, and who you say it to.”

Will nodded, took a breath, and closed his eyes for a moment. “Hey, Coach, is it true what they say? Are you really related to Crazy Horse?”

Ajay appeared at the door. “Thank God. I didn’t want to wake you, but it sounded like you were mumbling in your sleep.”

“Coach Jericho was just—” Will turned back to Jericho. He was gone.

“What’s the matter, Will?” asked Ajay. “What about Jericho?”

Will felt a sudden chill and pulled the covers up. “How long have I been here?” he asked.

“They brought you in two hours ago,” said Ajay. “We’re all here. Nick has a broken leg. They found him in the locker room, pretty badly banged up.”

“Elise? Brooke?”

“Elise is here, stable but still unconscious. Brooke has no serious injuries, but she’s severely shaken. Her parents are flying in tonight.”

Will focused on him. Ajay looked worn to a nub. “And how are you, Ajay?”

“I’m all right,” said Ajay, but he sniffed and fought to hold back tears. “Mild hypothermia. Nothing a few cups of cocoa couldn’t take care of. But I’ve been worried sick about the rest of you.”

Will reached out and took his hand and waited until Ajay could talk again.

“I feel so completely ineffectual, Will,” said Ajay. “You guys did all the important stuff and what did I do? I went for a bumpy ride on the back of a horse.”

“No, Ajay, no. You were great. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“But it’s also true,” said Will. “And we need you even more now. Because you’re the best witness to all this they could ever hope to find. You see everything, and it’s not like you’re going to forget any details, are you?”

“Never,” said Ajay, smiling, and then proved it. “Help arrived at the boathouse exactly fourteen minutes after you left. Mention kidnapping and attempted murder and an entire regiment shows up: cars, trucks, boats, police, ambulances, troopers.”

“What did you tell them, Ajay?”

“That someone dressed as the Paladin kidnapped Brooke and threatened to harm her if we didn’t do as he said,” said Ajay. “So we felt we had to rescue her without informing authorities. And I was able to show them your conversation with the Paladin on my tablet to prove it.”

“Perfect,” said Will, patting his arm. “And that’s all we should tell them.”

“I read you loud and clear, Will,” said Ajay. “I saw police taking away Durgnatt, Steifel, and Duckworth at the boathouse. In handcuffs.”

“What about Lyle?”

“They brought him in on the chopper with you, but I haven’t heard anything.”

“And Todd Hodak?”

“Apparently police picked up six more kids at the Barn,” said Ajay, “but no one’s mentioned Todd.”

Will thought for a moment. “There were two Paladins, Ajay. It was Lyle at the boathouse. The one at the Barn had to be Todd. When he figured out it was Nick and not me, he ran off.”

“So Lyle’s the one we saw on camera, then?” asked Ajay.

“Had to be,” said Will. “Lyle was in charge. Will they let you out of here?”

“They haven’t said they wouldn’t. Why?”

“I need my iPhone. It’s on a shelf in Lyle’s office, in a plastic box with my name on it. If they haven’t clamped down Greenwood Hall, you might be able to sneak in and grab it.”

“Not to argue, but don’t you think we’re in enough trouble already?”

“All the trouble’s pointing at the Knights,” said Will. “It’s not like we kidnapped anybody, right?”

“If you say so,” said Ajay, still uncertain.

“We’ve got more work ahead of us,” said Will. “We need that phone.”

“I’ll get right on it.” Ajay started out but stopped at the door. “Will, I know we can piece together a lot of the facts … but do you have any idea of the big picture?”

“I’ve got some ideas,” said Will. “I don’t want to say anything until we’re all together again. Do you play tennis?”

“What a thoroughly bizarre non sequitur.”

“I’m trying to figure something out from a dream. So do you?”

Ajay shrugged. “I’m more of a Ping-Pong man myself.”

“What’s the meaning of love?”

“Dear me, from the absurd to the profound—”

“I mean in tennis,” said Will.

“In tennis? In the scoring of tennis, love means zero. Its origin is somewhat in dispute, but since the game evolved in France, one theory has love deriving from the French word l’œuf. French for ‘egg.’ Because an egg looks like a zero.”

“An egg.”

Will felt the click of cold hard logic fit together, as if he’d set the keystone and all the other pieces had fallen into place.

“That’s the most popular theory, but no one seems to know for sure. Will, if you’re dreaming about eggs, are you sure you’re not just … hungry?”

“Actually, I’m starving.”

“Should I tell the doctors you’re awake?”

“In two minutes,” said Will. “Make a big deal out of it. That should give you enough cover to slip out unnoticed.”

Ajay stepped into the hall. Will eased the IV needle from his arm, got unsteadily out of bed, and pulled on a robe. He moved through the door connecting to the next room.

Nick lay on a rolling hospital bed, his right leg elevated by a pulley device, wearing a cast up to the knee. Will moved to Nick’s side. His eyes were closed; the right was badly swollen and blackened. He’d gotten stitches in his lower lip and left cheekbone and had scratches and scrapes everywhere. He looked like he’d survived a train wreck.

“Hey, slacker,” Will whispered. “Nice sympathy play. Chicks’ll dig the cast.”

“You should see the other guys,” croaked Nick. He cracked open his good eye and clasped Will’s hand. “By the way, I’m telling everybody these are UPIs: Unidentified Party Injuries.”

“Some party.”

“Brooke okay, bro?” asked Nick.

“That’s the word.”

“So we nailed the bastards.”

“To the wall,” said Will.

“For reals,” said Nick, then leaned in and whispered, “And, dude, I’ve got great news: Whatever drugs I’m on right now? They’re awesome.”

“Nick, this is really important. Between the drugs and your concussion, it’s even more important: Don’t say anything they don’t need to know.”

Nick gave Will a fist bump. “I’m all over that. I got a concussion, too?”

“Dude. You were born with one.” Will started for the door.

“Hey, chill a sec. I was going to tell you something … real important about Nepsted,” said Nick sleepily. “But, damn, I can’t remember what it was.…”

Nick nodded off. Will moved through the next door to an identical room. Lying on her back, eyes closed, with an IV in her arm and hooked up to a battery of monitors, was Elise.

Will took her hand, leaned in, and whispered, “Elise, can you hear me?”

“No,” she said. “I died. Tragically.” She opened one eye.

“Ajay said you hadn’t woken up yet,” said Will.

Elise arched an eyebrow. “You think I’d let them know that before we had a chance to talk? Is that how little you think of me?”

“I should know better.”

“Yes, you should,” she said. He tried to disengage his hand, but she held on. “I didn’t give you permission to let go.”

“Maybe I don’t want to, then,” said Will.

They stared at each other for a moment. “Great,” said Elise. “Now I’m completely self-conscious about the whole hand thing.”

But neither of them let go.

“Did you know you could … do … whatever it was you did at the boathouse?” asked Will.

“Let me ask you this first,” she said. “It’s a strange question, but since you sent Ajay to bring me there, I’m asking it anyway: Did you?”

“Not exactly. I had a feeling you’d be able to do something.”

“Why? How?”

“Because of a question you asked me once,” said Will. “In a dream. You asked me if I was ‘Awake.’ That was you, wasn’t it?”

“Awake was just the word I used. To describe this feeling to myself.” She held his eyes steadily. “I was dreaming, too. I saw you, twice, before you got here, before I had any idea who you were, or if you were even real. I saw the trouble you were in. And then when you showed up, it scared the pants off me.” She gripped his hand, hard. “I’ve always been weird, okay? And I don’t mean geeky-weird. I mean the Old English definition: the power to see fate or the future, or to know what people are thinking. Then you got here and woke it up for real.”

“You mean, what you did at the boathouse?”

“I had no idea I could do anything like that,” she said. “Hitting a high C that shatters a wineglass is one thing. Blowing the doors off a building and knocking a roomful of people senseless? That’s a whole different level of ‘Awake.’ ”

“I felt something else, too,” said Will, studying her. “A couple of times with you.” He held her eyes and thought:

Do you know what I’m thinking right now?

She held his eyes steadily: Of course I do, dummy.

Will gasped. “Damn. What is up with that?”

“Don’t know, but it sure beats the hell out of texting,” she said, grinning slyly.

They both heard voices in Nick’s room next door and saw lights under the door.

“Don’t worry, I know the drill,” said Elise, whispering. “Mum’s the word. An explosion knocked everybody out and we don’t know what caused it. Maybe the bad guys set it up ahead of time—”

“You are good,” said Will.

“You’re dismissed,” said Elise, settling into the bed. “I’m going back to my Sleeping Beauty act. I’m pretty worn out from the effects of my, uh, ‘explosion.’ ”

I know what that’s like, too, thought Will.

I know you do, she thought. Then she said, “And that’s deeply weird, isn’t it?”

“Nothing’s weirder than the truth,” said Will.

“Hmm. Okay. I’ll ponder upon that,” she said. Elise squeezed his hand one more time, closed her eyes, and let him go.

Will went back to the door, gathered himself, and then walked through it. Dr. Robbins, Dr. Geist, Dr. Kujawa, and Headmaster Rourke stood over Nick’s bed. Eloni and another security guard stood by the door to the hallway. Rourke wore his shearling coat and held his black cowboy hat in his hand.

“There you are,” said Dr. Robbins. “Will, what are you doing out of bed?”

“I wanted to make sure everyone was okay,” he said.

“Come sit over here, please, Will,” said Rourke, calmly patting the empty bed next to Nick’s. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Making sure that all of you are okay is my first order of business, not yours. Are we clear on that?”

“Yes, sir.”

Will sat on the bed. Dr. Kujawa checked his pulse and gave him a quick once-over. As Kujawa worked, Will exchanged a look with Nick over his shoulder. Nick nodded subtly: We got this.

Kujawa looked back at Rourke: He’s okay.

Rourke pulled up a chair, turned it backward, and sat astride it, between the beds, so he could see them both.

“Dr. Robbins and Mr. McBride have brought me up to date about some earlier conversations,” said Rourke, “in which you raised concerns about this secret club called the Knights of Charlemagne. Let’s hear your side, Will.”

Will told them about the Paladin’s threats against Brooke. He apologized to Robbins for leaving against her orders, but he’d felt they had no choice. What he’d seen in the message told him they’d find Brooke at the boathouse and that it was his decision, alone, to try and free her. An explosion had gone off when they got there. A trap set, they assumed, by the kidnappers. He explained how he chased the Paladin—who turned out to be Lyle—up to the ridge and that shots had been fired at him. He’d cornered Lyle near the caves where they’d found him with the helicopter.

And that was all that he remembered.

Rourke looked at him, then took something from his coat. “I found these in your pockets, Will.”

His Swiss Army knife, dark glasses, and a pair of black dice. Normal, six-sided black dice, like you’d find in a Monopoly game. Will tried to mask his alarm: Regular dice? Are these the same ones from Dave’s glass cube?

Then Rourke turned to Nick and asked for his account.

Nick echoed Will’s version, adding that they changed coats so the Knights would mistake him for Will. He’d gone to the Barn to create a distraction while Will and the others went for Brooke.

We’re home free, thought Will with relief. Then Nick kept going.

“And when I got there, a bunch of masked dudes, like six of ’em, were trying to steal the statue of the school mascot. They’d already knocked it off its pedestal and dragged it to the locker room, and I didn’t know if they were gonna deface it or something, right, so I made some citizen arrests. All of a sudden, this ginormous animal charges in—I guess ’cause they’d left the doors open and it was trying to get out of the storm? And I know this sounds totally shwhacked, but I think that maybe it was … a bear?”

Dead silence.

“So, next thing I know, my leg’s busted up real bad and I somehow call the operator and I have this voodoo nightmare that there’s a giant squid talking to me.… Then I woke up here. You know, pretty confused and all.”

Will tried not to wince.

“There was an animal down there,” someone said from behind Will.

Everyone turned. Coach Jericho had come into the room while Nick was speaking.

“I was in my office when I heard it,” said Jericho evenly. “Luckily, I was able to open a few doors and keep away from it until it chased me outside.”

“A bear?” asked Rourke.

“Judging by the tracks, it might have been a bear,” said Jericho. “But to be honest, Stephen, it was dark and I didn’t turn around to take a look.”

“What happened to your arm?” asked Robbins.

“I slipped on the ice outside, after I made it out of the building. Nothing serious.”

“A bear,” said Rourke, looking at Nick again.

“Unlikely as it sounds,” said Jericho, “I’ve seen Mr. McLeish part company with the facts before, but I think he’s telling the truth. Those kids did drag the statue to the locker room and vandalize it. That’s where we found what was left.”

“Thank you, Coach,” said Rourke.

Jericho met Will’s eye, then stepped out of the room. Nick exhaled slowly and glanced at Will. Will silently mouthed, A giant squid?

Nick shrugged and nodded. Rourke stood up and ran a hand through his thick hair.

“We found three rifles, abandoned at the base of the ridge,” said Rourke. “Target guns used by the biathlon team and stolen from a locked cabinet in the field house. We also found spent shells and four snowmobiles from the motor pool.

“Obviously, Will, your concerns were well founded: A small group of students appears to have revived the Knights of Charlemagne, an organization that was banned here seventy years ago. These are deadly serious crimes, and ten students are in custody. Their families have been notified, and arrests are forthcoming. The safety of our students is a sacred trust, and we’re going to conduct a full investigation to get to the bottom of how and why this happened.”

Rourke paused as another of Will’s teachers entered the room: It was Sangren, the little civics professor. He took Rourke aside and whispered urgently.

“Excuse me,” said Rourke. He gestured for Dr. Geist to follow him. Both hurried outside.

Sangren turned to Will. “Will, come with me, please. In here.”

Will followed Sangren into his own room. Sangren pointed to the bed. “Sit down, please, Will.”

Will did as he asked. Sangren went back to the adjoining door and spoke quietly to Dr. Robbins and Dr. Kujawa. Something he said caused Robbins to involuntarily raise a hand to her mouth and gasp, then glance at Will. Kujawa looked at Will and immediately left the room. Sangren braced Robbins’s arms with his for a moment as she composed herself; then both walked over to Will.

“What is it?” asked Will, his heart sinking before he heard a word.

Dr. Robbins knelt and took Will’s hand. “Will, Dan McBride just called,” she said.

“What happened?”

“There’s been an accident.”

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