Touch of Sibyl

Chapter Twenty.three

Nobody ever really dies in a comic book, not even the bad guy. At least not for long.

The words that I'd spoken to Zac last night whispered in my mind, mocking me as I stared at Jessy. Because the girl standing in front of me was definitely not dead. My eyes fell to her throat, which was just as smooth as mine. Nope, definitely not dead. I had a feeling the same wouldn't be said about me, though, before the night was through.

"You're-you're alive," I finally said.

The Valkyrie let out a soft giggle that bounced off the library walls. "So I am, Sibyl. So I am. Be a good girl, go stand next to Morgan, and I'll explain it all to you. The only problem with plans like this is that there's never anyone around to gloat to."

My eyes slid past Jessy to the open door at the far end of the stacks, as I wondered if I could run past her and sprint out it before she, oh, I don't know, killed me until I was dead, dead, dead. But the panther saw what I was looking at and let out another evil hiss.

I wet my lips. "Is that thing an illusion? Like the one last night was?"

Jessy walked over and put her hand on the creature's back, stroking its black fur. The panther's bloodred eyes brightened, and it let out a little purr of pleasure that made me wince.

"Oh no, Sibyl. This panther is very real. But it wouldn't really matter, either way. Illusions can tear you to shreds just as much as real teeth and claws can."

Nica had said something similar to me outside the library last night, but I hadn't quite believed her. How could something that wasn't even real hurt you? But I was beginning to realize there was a lot about myths and magic that I just didn't understand.

I didn't have any choice but to do what Jessy told me. Otherwise, the prowler-real or illusion-would rip me to shreds, something that I desperately did not want to happen. So I walked down an aisle and rounded the corner, stepping into the main, open part of the library.

Morgan stood to my left in the same spot where the glass case had been that had once housed the Bowl of Death. The Artifact that had supposedly been stolen the night Jessy had supposedly died.

The Bowl that Morgan was now holding.

It looked the same as I remembered it. Small, round, brown, plain. A simple bowl with no paint, carvings, or extras of any kind on it. No gold, no jewels, nothing. Still, just looking at it tonight made me sick to my stomach. I didn't always have to touch an item to get a vibe off it. If an object had enough emotion tied to it, had enough memories embedded in it, then it could radiate those feelings, sort of like an aura. Like Nica and her sparking pink fingers.

And tonight the Bowl radiated cold, black evil.

"Stop," Jessy said.

The panther hissed in time to her command.

I paused where I was, next to one of the study tables. A couple of books lay on the edge of the table, the ones that Nickimedes had come out of the stacks with earlier today. For whatever reason, the librarian hadn't put the books away. I leaned back against the table and casually put my hand on the top one. I got the same vibe that I always did off the library books-one of old knowledge. It wasn't much and it certainly wasn't a weapon, but it was something at least. I'd take every little thing I could get right now, starting with an explanation.

"So you faked this whole thing," I said, turning to face Jessy. "The theft of the Bowl, your body, all the puddles of blood. All of it was just an illusion, right?"

"Well, well, well," Jesy said. "The Sibyl has a brain after all. You're right, of course. I faked everything you saw that night, and a lot of stuff since then."