The last ten minutes of history, Mr. Marrow gave us free time to do some extra studying for midterm exams next week. I took advantage of the opportunity to pull out my eTab and do some Internet/e-net searching. I kept it hidden under the desk. Marrow might be supportive of my endeavor to find the killer, but I didn’t think it extended to wasting class time on nonschool work.
I typed in the search box: Who is the black phoenix?
The e-net results were more or less the same as they had been the last time I tried to find out about phoenixes, lots of links to sites concerning the birds as a species, detailing their magical properties, and the countless numbers of foolish magickind who’d gone hunting them.
When I flipped over to the Internet results, I received a shock from the very first entry—The Black Phoenix Will Rise Again.
Surely, it had to be coincidence. Only, at this point, I didn’t believe in coincidences. I clicked on the link and was immediately greeted by a log-in box. I blinked, experiencing déjà vu. I clicked on the register as a new user button and started entering the necessary information. When another message popped up asking me to identify the name of my initiator, I realized why this seemed so familiar. I’d tried to access this website before when I’d been researching Keeper spells. I glanced at the name and saw Reckthaworlde.com.
Definitely not a coincidence.
I stared at the screen, contemplating some way to get in.
“Excuse me, Dusty.”
I winced and glanced up at Mr. Marrow. “Yes?”
“I believe you should be studying now.”
“Right.” I put the eTab to sleep and stowed it in my bag. I forced my eyes on my textbook, but my mind remained fixated on getting into the website.
The solution to the problem presented itself less than twenty minutes later when I spotted Paul standing in the hallway outside of the cafeteria before lunch. Paul Kirkwood, computer genius.
I beamed at him. “I’m so glad to see you.” I gave him a hug, feeling totally unselfconscious about it.
“Same here.” He wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head.
I pulled back from him but stayed close enough that he could hear me whisper, “I need a favor.”
He twined his fingers with mine. “Whatever you want.”
Tough opening to resist—there was so much I wanted from him. But I kept it simple. “I need you to hack into a website for me. That is, if you think you can.”
He laughed. “Sweetheart, if it’s got an IP, I can hack it.”
“Huh?”
“Forget it. What site?”
I pulled a piece of paper out of my backpack and wrote down the address before handing it over.
“What’s it about?” Paul said, reading the address.
“No idea. You’ve got to have special permission to log on, but I think there are some answers in there about what’s been going on.”
Paul raised his eyes to mine. “What exactly do you want me to look for? I mean, a website can have a lot of info on it.”
I glanced around, making sure no one was close enough to overhear. “Anything about a black phoenix.”
“As in the bird you keep seeing in Eli’s dreams?”
“Yeah, only I think it’s a person. Like some kind of shape-shifter.”
His eyes widened. “Weird. Well, I’ll take a look and let you know what I find.”
My stomach rumbled. With everything going on, I hadn’t been able to eat much for breakfast. “Excuse me,” I said, rubbing my tummy.
Paul smiled. “I don’t mean to keep you from lunch, but I wanted to give you this.” He handed me an envelope from his coat pocket.
“What is it?”
“Some stuff about your mother.”
My stomach dropped. “Is it bad?”
He tucked his hands into his pockets, looking nervous. “Not sure. Maybe. Depends on what you make of it. Just don’t open it where anybody else can see, okay? My uncle would really kill me for this one if he found out.”
“I won’t,” I said, finding it hard to speak.
Paul kissed me. “See you later.”
I walked into the cafeteria, clutching the envelope tight enough to crumple it. I ignored Selene’s questioning look as I joined her at our usual table. Hunching over, I opened the envelope, pulled out the paper inside, and began to read. It was an e-mail addressed to Magistrate Kirkwood from Consul Vanholt. There was nothing in the subject line and the content was brief:
The Nightmare must be involved. We should bring her in but keep a close eye on her. She can’t be trusted, but I’m sure she’s the key to solving this.
I read it three times, trying not to jump to conclusions. My mother wasn’t mentioned specifically, after all, and the overall meaning was pretty vague. Still, it didn’t exactly give me a warm fuzzy. Not when I considered how few Nightmares there were in Chickery.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” asked Selene.
I nodded even though the idea of food made me want to throw up. I tucked the e-mail back in the envelope and hid it inside my psionics textbook. I went through the motion of getting food and pretending to eat it, but I didn’t manage more than a couple of bites.
After ten minutes of silence, Selene broke down and said, “Do you want to talk about it?”
I marveled at how long she resisted asking. Selene was my hero in that way, the epitome of self-control.
I shook my head. “I’ve got to go, actually. I want to get to psionics early.”