Free Victories by Mercedes Lackey Page B

watching the square green cursor pulse hypnotically on the little screen.
    HELLO, QUERCUS, she typed. OR SHOULD I CALL YOU MERLIN? It was an effort to hit each key hard enough to activate it, and her fingers were starting to ache already.
    YOU MAY CALL ME WHAT YOU WISH, SPIRIT. The letters formed one by one on the screen. Spirit didn’t know if the slowness was due to the ancient technology they were using, or the fact that Merlin was thinking carefully about each word.
    VIVIAN CALLS YOU MERLIN, SO I WILL TOO. SHE’S LEAVING TOMORROW. SHE WON’T SAY WHERE SHE’S GOING. BUT
    Spirit’s fingers hovered over the keyboard indecisively. She trusted Merlin completely, but she wasn’t sure whether she should talk about the Hallows. What if someone was eavesdropping?
    SPIRIT? YOU MAY SAY ANYTHING YOU WISH TO WITHOUT FEAR. IF IT WERE POSSIBLE FOR OUR ENEMIES TO FIND ME, I WOULD HAVE BEEN DESTROYED LONG AGO.
    Spirit released a deep breath she hadn’t known she was holding. WE FOUND THE HALLOWS, she typed. BUT THEY DON’T WORK. I MEAN, WE CAN’T MAKE THEM DO ANYTHING.
    BUT YOU WERE CONSECRATED TO THE HALLOWS, came the response. Spirit wasn’t sure whether it was a question or not.
    YES, she typed back.
    THEN HAVE PATIENCE AND FAITH. ALL WILL BE WELL.
    HOW CAN YOU BE SURE OF THAT? The keyboard was too slow for her to type all the things in her mind: how was patience going to stop Mordred? How could she—how could any of them—have faith that they could defeat Mordred? How could they have faith in the power of the Hallows when they couldn’t even make them work?
    I AM A VERY OLD MAN. (Spirit could almost hear the wry chuckle accompanying those words.) I HAVE HAD TIME TO LEARN THE POWER OF FAITH. AND OF TRUST.
    HOW CAN YOU TRUST US? Spirit answered. YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW US.
    I HAVE KNOWN YOU LONGER THAN YOU IMAGINE, SPIRIT WHITE. BELIEVE IN YOURSELF.
    That was so close to one of those irritating catchphrases from Oakhurst’s Morning Motivational Messages that Spirit couldn’t keep herself from making a face. She was instantly ashamed of herself—just because Oakhurst had done its best to pervert everything good and kind and normal was no reason she should buy into their lies.
    I’LL TRY, she answered.
    *   *   *
    By the time Spirit’s turn to try out her Hallow came, none of the others had been able to announce any success in activating theirs. Spirit sat down at the table and set the pen in front of her. She stared at it gloomily. The pen just sat there. The pen was … just a pen. It was clearly magical—it had the same numinous hyper-reality Addie’s car keys possessed, or Loch’s phone charm, or Burke’s tacky jewelry—but aside from that.…
    Nothing.
    This entire exercise reminded Spirit far too much of her first days at Oakhurst, when Miss Smith had locked her up in a room with a potted plant, a bowl of water, a candle, and a bundle of feathers, and told her to figure out which Elemental School her Gift belonged to. It hadn’t worked then, and it didn’t work now.
    When she found herself absently tapping the pen against the table out of sheer boredom, Spirit gave up. If the mystic ballpoint was going to reveal its secret life as an enchanted sword, it wasn’t going to do it this afternoon. Somehow, the fact that none of the others had had any better luck made Spirit feel better than it should have. She’d worried that their experience with their Gifts would make a difference, but … no.
    At least this is one of those situations where prior experience doesn’t count, she told herself. Although with the fate of the world hanging in the balance, it might be nice if it did.
    She sighed as she got to her feet. Time to go tell Burke, Loch, and Addie that they were four for four in the “not activating the Hallows” department.
    *   *   *
    Since tomorrow they’d be on their own, Burke and Spirit made dinner as a sort of practice run. Loch had said he was great at ordering room service, and Addie