Touch of Frost (Mythos Academy #1)(30)
Author: Jennifer Estep

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 Nickamedes, 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 Nickamedes, 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 Metis, Coach Ajax, 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 Frost 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.

"We dedicate this fire to those who have fought before," Nickamedes said. "The light of their sacrifice will always banish the dark and bring order to the Chaos. We live because of them, and they live on in us."

"And they live on in us," everyone murmured, their words rippling out into the darkness.

For a moment the fire burned brighter and higher still, the flames more silver than gold. Then, I blinked, and the illusion was gone. There was only a bonfire crackling merrily in the ring of stone, its snaps of wood and sweet smoke filling the air-nothing more.

Just like that, the ritual was over and everyone relaxed. Hardly a minute had passed before the students drifted off into their usual cliques. It seemed like I’d barely blinked again before the scene shifted into what it should have been all along.

Kids stood around the fire, laughing, talking, and giggling, while others sat in lawn chairs or huddled together under blankets on the stone steps. I hadn’t noticed them before, but several tables full of the academy’s usual fancy food and drinks had been set up a few feet away from the bonfire. Some kids had already pulled out long metal rods that they were using to roast puffy gourmet marshmallows for s’mores.

The sight helped me shake off the strange feeling that had gripped me earlier and remember why I was here in the first place. Mmm. S’mores. One of my favorite treats. I’d have to make myself some to take back to my room-after I figured out what Morgan and Samson were up to.

Metis, Coach Ajax, and a few other profs started patrolling the edges of the amphitheater, making sure nobody did something stupid. Like, you know, grab a blazing stick out of the bonfire and set someone’s hair on fire with it.

The profs were also here to keep an eye on the alcohol. Despite the supposedly strict no-booze-on-campus rule, several kids took sips from small flasks when they thought no one was looking. Some were even more brazen about it, having poured beer, wine coolers, or whatever into plastic cups. A few guys, Romans mostly, even popped open cans and let beer foam and spew all over them before chugging down the liquor and crushing the empty metal against their foreheads. But as long as no fights broke out, Metis and the other professors seemed content to let the students have their fun-at least for tonight.

I skirted around the fringes of the bonfire, keeping to the shadows and looking for Morgan or Samson. I didn’t spot them right away, but I did see someone else I knew-Carson Callahan. He was playing some kind of drum, a bodhran I think it was called, in an impromptu band that had parked themselves next to one of the refreshment tables. There was a guy with a guitar, a girl with a violin, and another guy with a pair of cymbals. The four of them were just jamming, playing fast, rocking Celtic music. They actually sounded pretty good together. I waved to Carson, but of course he didn’t see me, and I walked on by.

But I wasn’t the only person who had her eye on Carson. Across the flickering bonfire, I saw Daphne Cruz staring in his direction, completely focused on the band geek.

And Morgan McDougall was standing right next to her. Jackpot.

I kept walking around the bonfire, trying to look like I was going somewhere instead of spying on one of the most popular girls in school. Morgan was among the kids who were drinking, a plastic cup of beer in her right hand. Daphne was drinking, too, although her beverage of choice looked like a wine cooler.

I was so busy staring at Morgan and Daphne that I didn’t watch where I was going and I once again slammed into someone familiar.

Logan Quinn.

The Spartan had been carrying a soda in his hand, and, thanks to me, it splashed all over the front of his long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans, completely soaking him. Uh-oh. Logan rocked back on his heels and opened his mouth, probably ready to curse me for ramming into him. But then he saw it was me, and the anger on his face melted into a sly, knowing smile.

"Well, well, Gypsy girl," he drawled. "We really have to stop meeting like this."

"I’ll say," I muttered. "Sorry I ran into you. Again."

I was glad it was dark, so he couldn’t see the red-hot embarrassment that stained my cheeks. Usually, I wasn’t this clumsy and actually, you know, paid attention to where I was walking. Then, there was the fact that I’d never so much as spoken to Logan before this week and now I kept running into him over and over again-literally. The Spartan probably thought that I was stalking him or something. That thought made my cheeks burn that much hotter.

I started to step around him, but Logan blocked my path. I went the other way, and he blocked me again.

"What?" I snapped, getting more embarrassed by the second. Especially since Logan’s wet T-shirt clung to his stomach, giving me a glimpse of his washboard abs-abs that I just couldn’t seem to look away from. "Do you want something?"

"Just the pleasure of your company, Gypsy girl."

Logan smiled at me then, a small, sexy grin that curved his lips and made his eyes flare with a brilliant blue light. My brain must have shut down or something, because I was momentarily breathless, even as my heart pounded in my chest. Thump-thump-thump. If it got any louder, Logan would be sure to hear it, and then I’d be even more embarrassed.