Touch of Sibyl

Chapter Fifteen

A bonfire was scheduled for that evening. Apparently, it was an academy tradition and the event was always held the night before the homecoming dance. The dance, of course, would be staged in the dining hall. Even at Mythics, the Powers That Were couldn't think of anywhere better to have the dance than the cafeteria. Some things stayed the same, no matter which school you went to.

Normally, I wouldn't have gone to the bonfire, as I hadn't been to any of the other after-school social events. It wasn't like I had any friends who were just begging me to go. Or like I was popular enough for people to care whether or not I put in an appearance at the Big Event. And it certainly wasn't like I was dating anyone and wanted to snuggle with him under a blanket by the fire.

But Morgan and Samson had made plans to meet at the bonfire, and I wanted to see what they were up to. Hopefully, it would be something more interesting than dry-humping each other.

Maybe it was stupid, but I just couldn't shake off this feeling that the two of them had something to do with Jessy's murder. Maybe they hadn't killed Jessy, but there was something that just seemed wrong about this whole thing. Besides, it wasn't like I had any other Big Plans for the night, besides sitting in my room, eating junk food, and reading comic books.

The bonfire was being held in the outdoor amphitheater on one of the lower quads just down the hill from the Library of Antiquities. I took a shower, threw on some clean jeans, a T-shirt, and a gray hoodie, and walked over there. It was after seven now and already dark on this October night. The air was chilly, but not unpleasantly so, and the stars twinkled like the sequins on a prom queen's dress in the black velvety fabric of the sky.

A series of long, flat, shallow stone steps that doubled as seats made up the top of the amphitheater. The steps formed a semicircle as they gradually spiraled down to the raised dais that served as the stage. Unlike the stones of the other campus buildings, all the stones here were bone white and flecked with shimmers of opalescent color-sky blue, pearl pink, soft lilac. Four columns towered over the stage area, each one topped by a chimera crouching on a round globe, clutching the sphere with its curved claws and glaring out at where the crowd would sit.

By the time I arrived, the stage had been removed and a small fire had already been built in a ring of white stones in the very bottom of the amphitheater. I'd expected the other kids to be laughing, talking, and halfway to drunk by now, but for once, everyone was quiet, somber even. Instead of forming their usual cliques and gossiping, the students stood single file in a line that snaked up the amphitheater steps. Since I wasn't sure what was going on, I hung back, staying away from the line and well out of the flickering firelight.

One by one, the students walked by a tall man wearing a royal blue cloak shot through with silver thread and a crown of silver leaves resting on top of his head. He was backlit by the fire, and it took me a few seconds to realize that it was Nickimedes, of all people. What was he doing? And why was he wearing that ridiculous cloak and crown? Was he dressed up for a night of playing Dungeons & Dragons or something?

Apparently, the other students didn't think the librarian's appearance was strange at all. No mocking whispers filled the air, no sly giggles, nothing. Everyone was as quiet as if they were at a funeral. As the kids passed Nickimedes, they reached into the large silver bowl that he was holding and pulled out a handful of whatever was inside. I watched the first girl in line as she walked over to the ring of stones. She stood there in front of the flames a moment, then tossed a fistful of silver powder into the heart of the fire.

*WHOOSH!*

Whatever the powder was, it made the fire blaze brighter and burn hotter, the orange flames taking on a faint silver tinge. One by one, the kids in line repeated the process, along with Tin, Coach Jack, and some of the other professors. By the time the last student had finished, the flames arced as high as the top tier of the amphitheater and the heat from them shimmered like ghosts twisting in the air. More than the heat, there was a-a charge in the air. The same sort of old, watchful, knowing force that I always felt when Grandma had one of her visions. I shivered and wrapped my arms against myself. I might not think all the magic mumbo jumbo that the profs spouted was true, but here, tonight, I could almost believe that gods and monsters were real-and that they were all watching us.