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?