Will glanced in the mirror at the end of the next row. Staring back at him, behind his own reflection, was Dave. Will whirled around, but Dave wasn’t there. He turned back and stepped closer to the mirror. Dave smiled, looking substantial and real, standing beside him in the aisle. Will turned again: empty space.
Dave was inside the mirror.
“How am I seeing you right now?” asked Will.
“If you want to get technical, ‘astral projection.’ I’m back at headquarters. Good news: You’ve been cleared for the next level of classified info.”
“Whatever you say, Dave,” said Will, sitting to tie his shoes. “I don’t want to get you mad again.”
“I work for the Hierarchy,” said Dave. “Have a gander.”
Will looked up from his shoes and his jaw dropped.
An image had appeared beside Dave in the mirror: a vast cityscape of gleaming towers, spires, and pavilions floating in midair above an endless snowcapped mountain range. As Dave spoke, the image rotated slowly.
“Imagine seven interlocking divisions of a global corporation whose only purpose is to do good. I know: not humanly possible. That’s why the Hierarchy exists on the etheric level. It’s that big, Wilclass="underline" Epic can’t convey its real scope.” Dave pointed to some of the gigantic buildings. “The Personnel Department alone could cover Kansas—caseworkers, managers, counselors. Architects and builders. The Legion of Thoughtforms. The Hall of Akashic Records. Our offices are up here, near the Council of Mahatmas.”
Dave pointed to a high ivory tower rising above the center of the complex. Will saw thousands of people at work in gargantuan halls.
“Are all those people alive?” he asked.
“Alive, absolutely. Not in the earthbound sense of the word—that is, like me, not strictly physical, but they can be, depending on the need.”
“What’s it all for?” asked Will, his voice barely a whisper.
The image faded. Dave looked kinder than Will had ever seen him, as if he knew how impossible this was to absorb. “We look after the whole planet, mate. Caretakers for all the forms of life, according to department. I’m with Security. We keep eyes peeled for funny business from the Other Team, provide special services for the chief of operations, upon whose desk the buck comes to a complete stop.”
“He wouldn’t be ‘the Old Gentleman,’ by any chance?”
Dave cocked his head. “No, that bloke’s captain of the Other Team. Wrong side entirely. Our CO is nothing of the sort. He doesn’t have a name, really, although folks on the job sometimes use the term Planetary Logos.”
Will felt his whole body tingling. “You mean … God?”
“God?” Dave almost laughed. “Not hardly, mate. That one’s a thousand orders of magnitude removed from us. The Hierarchy’s a strictly local outfit with local responsibilities. No need to overreach. Trust me, the Other Team’s enough to keep us locked and loaded, with every man and his dog tending to their station.”
Will gulped in air, his head swimming. “So all these monsters, bugs, and ‘Fuzzy-Wuzzies’ from the Never-Was are part of the Other Team?”
“Absolutely. Minions of our deadliest enemy.”
“And they’re not human,” said Will.
“Nowhere near. But they’ve got plenty of human collaborators.”
“Like the Black Caps and the Knights of Charlemagne?”
“That’s right, mate,” said Dave admiringly. “You seem to be taking all this rather in stride.”
“Well, you know, after you hit me with ‘guardian angel,’ the rest just seems like ‘sure, whatever.’ How’d you get into all this?”
“The usual way,” said Dave. “I was recruited.”
Dave disappeared. Will saw only his own reflection in the mirror. A couple of younger students, who’d just wandered in behind him, stared at him warily.
“That’s right,” said Will. “I’m the new kid who talks to himself in the mirror.”
Shocked at how calm he felt, Will hurried out and went looking for the weight room. He found it near the far end of the Barn’s central corridor. It was a long, high-ceilinged space filled with gymnastic stations at one end—rings, bars, horses—and training machines and free weights at the other.
There were about a dozen athletes—about half from the cross-country team—stretching on rubber mats in the middle. As Will entered, the few who noticed—Durgnatt, Steifel, and the African American kid Wendell Duckworth—gave him the cold shoulder. Todd Hodak trotted on a treadmill nearby. No sign of Coach Jericho.
Will assessed his options. He could lower his eyes, go submissive, and try not to provoke them. Hope that Todd and his pack ignored him. But if some of these kids—maybe all of them—were the Knights …?
Maybe now was a good time to find out.
Will grabbed a towel and jumped on the treadmill next to Hodak. He nudged up the speed until he was running at Todd’s pace, then looked over at him and grinned.
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“We should just drop the masks,” said Will.
Hodak shot a wary look at him. “What did you say?”
“Let’s stop pretending,” said Will casually. “You can bully me every single day I’m here, and even if you succeed? I will still take you down on the course. I own you there, and you know it. I am the CEO of Beat Todd Hodak, Incorporated Dot Com.”
Todd turned off his treadmill and stepped away. Breathing deeply, his upper body rippling with stress.
“You seem tense, Todd,” said Will, stepping off the treadmill and following him. “Did you have a rough … knight?”
Todd’s face flushed bright red when he heard the word. He balled his fists. Will moved right next to him.
“I don’t care who you are,” said Will quietly. “If you ever take another shot at me, or if you or your stooges hurt any of my roommates, including Brooke—especially Brooke—I’m painting a bull’s-eye on you. And I will tear you up.”
That ought to do it.
Will turned his back on him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Todd give the nod to Durgnatt and Steifel. Both stood up and jammed straight at him.
Here comes the pain.
Durgnatt, the dark-haired one, lunged at Will, grabbed him by the elbows, and pinned his arms behind his body. Steifel went for Will’s legs. Together, they lifted him off the ground. Will didn’t resist. The rest of the team reacted as if they’d rehearsed. Two went to the doors as lookouts. The others gathered around the mat in the middle, where Durgnatt and Steifel forced Will to his knees.
Todd grabbed Will by the sweatshirt and cocked back his fist. Will focused his eyes between Todd’s eyebrows. With a lot more confidence than he’d felt the last time, Will pushed a picture at him:
Hit Durgnatt.
Todd’s right hand flew right past Will’s chin and slammed Durgnatt in the nose. The big kid let go of Will and cradled his face, blood leaking between his fingers as he crumpled to his knees. Todd stared at his fist as if he couldn’t believe what it had just done. He cocked another punch.
Hit Steifel.
Todd’s left hook nailed Steifel flush on the side of the head. Dazed, Steifel staggered away. Will hopped to his feet, danced around shaking his hands, then added a Bruce Lee shuffle for fun.
“What the hell, Todd?” said Durgnatt, looking at the blood.
“Hold him still next time, idiots,” said Todd. “Get him!”