The auditorium was nearly full when Seph arrived, so he sat in the back. The hall reverberated with voices grumbling about being back at school, exchanging stories about the winter holidays. Seph nodded to Troy and Harrison, who were sitting toward the middle. Even Jason slipped into the room at the last minute, taking a seat close to the door.

Gregory Leicester mounted the stage at the front and called for quiet. He looked out over the students, as if mapping the faces in the crowd. Seph thought the headmaster had picked him out before he started speaking. He wondered if he'd noticed Jason in the back.

“This morning I must welcome you back to the Havens on a sad note. I regret to inform you that we've lost one of our students in a tragic episode over winter break.”

Seph knew who it was before the words were spoken. He wanted to run from the room before he heard, but it was as if he were bolted to his chair.

“Trevor Hill took his own life while he was home for the holidays.” Leicester paused. “Trevor was a boy with a great future ahead of him. He was a junior, an honor student, and a Havens success story. He was especially known for his generosity of spirit, for his willingness to help others without regard for his own safety.” Leicester's gaze settled on Seph.

“We cannot know what was in his mind at the time of his death. But his passing represents a great loss to the school and to all of his many friends. Let's all observe a moment of silence in memory of Trevor Hill.”

A hush fell over the auditorium. Some of the students closed their eyes; others stared at each other, stunned. Seph slumped in his seat, eyes wide open, watching the man in the front of the room.

After a moment, Leicester spoke again. “We sent a floral arrangement on behalf of the faculty and students. We also have contact information for those who would like to send a card or letter to the family. Thank you for coming.” And then Leicester was gone out the side door.

Seph sat without moving as the rest of the students shuffled out. A series of disconnected scenes ran through his head like an endlessly repeating video. He half hoped he would wake up to find that it was all a dream.

He recalled the last time he saw Trevor in his room, before he left for the holidays: Trevor offering to contact Sloane's from his parents' house, and Seph agreeing. Then Jason telling him that all the student rooms were wired by the administration. Finally, the night at the amphitheater, pulling the gold chain and pendant from the remains of the fire. Now Seph knew where he had seen it before.

He pushed himself up out of his seat and forced his way through the small knots of students who still lingered in the back of the auditorium, buzzing with scandal and voyeuristic grief. He went outside and headed for the administration building at a trot, his boots crunching in the snow, his breath pluming in the clear air.

He was just passing the Alumni House when someone reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him into a doorway.

“Where do you think you're going?” It was Jason, of course—unnoticeable Jason.

“Leave me alone.” Seph tried to rip his arm free.

“Where are you going?”

“To see Leicester.” Seph struck out at the air, but it seemed that Jason had more than his share of arms and legs. It was like fighting an invisible octopus.

“No, you're not, and you'd better chill out or I'll spell you.”

Seph stopped struggling.

“Now come downstairs where we can talk.” Jason kept a tight grip on Seph's arm, maneuvering him into the stairwell.

Once in his room, Jason rematerialized. “Sit down,” he commanded. Seph subsided into a chair, gauging the distance to the door, trying to figure out how he could get past Jason.

“Now tell me,” Jason said, planting himself in the way.

“Leicester killed Trevor Hill because he was going to try to reach my guardian. It's all my fault.” Seph trembled with rage and remorse.

Jason tilted his head to one side. “Why would your headmaster kill someone for contacting your guardian?”

“You of all people should know why.” Jason leaned forward and put both hands on Seph's shoulders, his blue eyes blazing. “You go into Leicester's office with a bunch of accusations, and the first thing he's going to think is, 'What's happened to Clueless? Who's he been talking to? Couldn't be Jason Haley, could it?'”

Seph tried to look away, but Jason kept his grip on him. “And let's say you confront Leicester, and you find out your theory is true? What exactly are you going to do about it?” Seph said nothing. “Don't you see? Every piece of information you give him is a weapon. And there's nothing you can do to him. Nothing.” Jason released Seph and stepped back.

“You don't understand. Trevor tried to help me, and now he's dead.” Images came back to him: Maia's flesh disintegrating under his touch. Trevor's scorched amulet amid the ashes at the amphitheater.

Jason dropped into a chair and closed his eyes. “If you're asking me if I think Leicester would do it, I'd say yes, in a heartbeat. And for less of a reason, too. He'd do it because Trevor was your friend and supported you while Leicester was trying to make you crazy.” Jason shook himself, as if trying to dislodge a memory. “Haven't you wondered why I don't hang out with the other students? Don't you think I'm tired of being alone all the time?”

He released a breath, a long, wounded sound. “It's because Leicester can get to you through them. I talked Sam and Peter into going up against him. Now Sam is dead, and Peter …” His voice trailed off.

“You're scared of him.”

“You're damn right I am, and you should be, too. The Anaweir are so damned fragile.” He gripped the arms of the chair as if holding himself in his seat.

“Last spring I complained to my father about this place. I bitched so much he decided to investigate. He called Dr. Leicester, asking questions, even came out for a visit, but didn't learn much. Everyone here was happy except me, blah, blah, blah. Still, Dad promised he would talk to a couple of psychotherapists, figure out if what was going on here was legitimate. Within a month, and before he could get very far with it, he died of a heart attack.”

“You think Leicester had something to do with it?”

Jason waved his hand impatiently. “Leicester has never taken any pains to deceive me about what he is, because I already knew too much when I got here. On the day my father died, Leicester called me into his office, and told me when and how and where it would happen. Then he made me sit there until the call came.”

“My God.” Seph swallowed down the sick that rose in his throat.

“He thought he'd found the way to break me. And it almost did, because I knew it was my fault.” Jason closed his eyes again, and Seph could see tears collecting at the corners. “If I hadn't been such a jerk when my dad remarried, I wouldn't have ended up here. If I hadn't complained about it to my father, he'd be alive today.”

“How can you think it was your fault?” Seph whispered. “Leicester is a monster.”

“If I don't get to blame myself, then you don't, either. But I think you can see that if anyone has a reason to go after Leicester, it's me.”

“I didn't know,” Seph said quietly. “How can you stand it?”

“I can stand it because I know I'll find a way to get Leicester and D'Orsay in the end. I'll do it or die trying. I've stayed here because I need to learn enough to do it. And then I'll join up with someone powerful enough and organized enough to help me. Right now, that looks like the Dragon, if I can find him.”

He looked up at Seph. "Leicester enjoys inflicting pain on people. I've been a source of entertainment for him. He thinks he'll have me in the end. He can take his time. I'm an orphan like you. Nobody cares what happens to me.

“Just stay away from him. At least, you can tell yourself you're not sure about Trevor, because you aren't. If you can't do anything about it, it's better not to know.”

Jason unfolded from his chair and began pacing, a cat in the small cage of the room. He could never stay still for long. “If Trevor was killed because he was going to talk to your guardian, then Leicester didn't want that to happen. I bet the whole story about them committing you is bogus, and Leicester is worried about what might happen if you contact Sloane's. So maybe Sloane's is your key to getting out.”

With the death of Trevor Hill, the old guilt returned. Trevor had found a way to survive at the Havens until Seph had come along. Even though he was Anaweir, he'd risked everything for Seph. Now Seph's nightmares were mostly about Trevor.

Along with the guilt came a hatred for Leicester that smoked and smoldered under his breastbone like a deep mine fire. He began wearing Trevor's pendant, along with the portal stone and Maia's cross. Images of revenge alternated with dreams of escape.

Seph took his lead from Jason and kept his distance from the other students. Sometimes he ate lunch with Troy, Harrison, James, and some of the others, but he never accepted their invitations to play racquetball, or tennis, or to go up to the movies in the auditorium. He spent his free time in his room, reading, or roaming the campus by himself.

Seph did his best to project the image of one whose hold on reality is tenuous. He let his appearance go. His hair grew long and curly for lack of cutting, and he rarely combed it. He still hallucinated during the day, checking in and out without warning. Sometimes whole chunks of time went missing.

He mumbled to himself in the hallways, flinched away from phantoms, and sat through classes as if in a trance. Some of the other students seemed to regard him as they might a fly caught in a dangerous web. Get too close and you might become entangled yourself. So they left him strictly alone.

On the other hand, the alumni continued to take an unwelcome interest in Seph. Now it seemed that everywhere he went, Warren Barber turned up, offering help with homework, music downloads, pills and peppermint schnapps and potent South American weed that might settle Seph's nerves. Bruce Hays and Aaron Hanlon invited him to eat with them in the alumni dining room, and to work out in the fitness center in the basement. On Leicester's orders, no doubt.