“Indeed. Here is your username and password.” She handed me a slip of paper. “The device is connected to the school’s wireless system, but you will be expected to obey classroom rules about its usage. There is also an instant message application. Make sure you check it regularly. I may sometimes contact you in that manner.”

“Okay.” The wireless stuff was pretty cool, but I was still hung up on the bit about symbols.

“You’ll start your new dream-feeding schedule on Wednesday.”

“Right. But is there anything specific I should look for? I mean, aside from the obvious. What about the ring you asked me about?”

Lady Elaine hesitated. “No. There’s nothing … specific.”

I could tell she was lying. “Okay. Then what’s a Keeper and why do you think Rosemary was one?”

She stared at me, at first thunderstruck then angry. “Where did you hear about Keepers?”

I gulped, but it was too late to worry about the consequences. “I heard you and Mr. Marrow talking.”

“You should be careful about eavesdropping. You’re liable to hear more than you want to.”

I wasn’t about to argue with her on that one, but I couldn’t just unremember what I’d heard. Besides, this was a life-and-death matter, in a very literal sense. “So what’s a Keeper?”

To my surprise, the old oracle smiled, the gesture something other than condescending. It looked almost like affection. “You’re certainly Moira’s daughter. But no, I’m not going to tell you what the Keepers are or what they’re guarding.”

She paused, and I knew she’d intentionally let slip the guarding reference. It was a clue.

She continued. “It’s a forbidden subject. I can’t tell you anything more.”

“Who forbids it?”

“The senate, of course.” Lady Elaine stood. “Well then. I think we’re finished here. Oh, I almost forgot. I would like you to attend some additional lessons in dream-walking with Ms. Grey. She’ll be able to teach you how to extend your abilities and to recognize potential signs.”

Great. I’d taken a couple lessons with Ms. Grey, or Bethany as she preferred to be called, before, and she was about as much fun as a Marine drill sergeant the first day of boot camp. She hated my mother, too, a fact she loved to go on about whenever the mood struck her. Which was pretty much all the time.

“You’ll meet her tomorrow after classes in room three-fourteen of Jupiter Hall,” said Lady Elaine.

I repeated the room number, committing it to memory.

“Do you have any questions?”

I hesitated. “Why didn’t my magic work on Eli?”

Lady Elaine looked relieved, as if she’d been expecting something else. “You and Eli are a dream-seer pair. As I said before, that is one of the indicators. Dream-seers are fated to work together as if they are one person, like magnets of opposite charge. It’s a bond almost impossible to break. You can’t use any magic on him that you can’t use on yourself.”

Awesome. More good news. “So are all dream-seer pairs between a Nightmare and an ordinary?”

“No. The dreamer is usually magickind. The fact that Eli is an ordinary might have something to do with your heritage, although no one can say for sure.”

“Oh.”

Lady Elaine picked up her giant purse and slung it over her shoulder. “Any more questions?”

Just one, but I was almost too afraid to ask. “The way the senate is going on about this and the business with the Keepers and ring, I sorta get the feeling you’re expecting more bad stuff to happen.”

Lady Elaine nodded, a grim look in her eyes. “What happened to Rosemary Vanholt is only the beginning.”

4

Daytime Nightmare

“Cheer up, Dusty. It won’t be so bad.”

I stifled a yawn as I glanced at Selene sitting across the table. Around us the cafeteria was in full breakfast-time swing, the noise level at a dull roar from so many voices and clanging dishes. I’d been up all night worrying about everything—the dream-seer stuff, facing Eli again, and worst of all, the fear of failure. It was a hard thing to live with, knowing that if I didn’t discover the killer’s identity, someone else might die.

“You should be excited,” Selene continued, doing her best to lighten my spirits. “Just think of all the cool things you’ll be able to do with that much extra magic.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s half the problem. I have a hard enough time handling what I do have. Anything more and I’ll probably blow myself up.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit. For as little time as you’ve had to learn, you’re doing great.”

“Yeah, sure. Tell that to your hair, why don’t you.”

“Don’t even try that.” Selene reached behind her head and slid her long black braid over her shoulder. She picked up the end and examined it. “See. You can’t even tell it was ever singed.”

I tapped my fork on my plate. “That’s because you’re a siren, and your magic corrects imperfections quickly.”

Selene frowned. I had her there. At the end of gym class last Thursday, the tip of her braid looked like the top of a burnt candlewick. I hadn’t meant to set her hair on fire, but we’d been studying combative magic that day. Well, we studied it most days. Sure, we did the usual stuff like sit-ups and dodgeball, but our classes more often resembled paintball games or laser tag, only with spells instead of toy guns. Before The Will, people learned combative magic to survive, given all the magickind-on-magickind violence. Now we learned it for sport.