I was used to the occasional weird experience, but usually they were over quickly. This twenty- four/seven hallucination was more than I could handle. For the rest of the school year, the entire campus seemed to be playing some kind of trick on me. The students acted as if they were completely and totally convinced that Mrs. Hoppe -a perky ginger woman whom I'd never seen in my life until she got on our bus at the end of the field trip-had been our Math teacher since Christmas.
Every so often I would spring a Mr. Blitz reference on somebody, just to see if I could trip them up, but they would stare at me like I was psycho.
It got so I almost believed them-Mr. Blitz had never existed. Almost.
But Ember couldn't fool me. When I mentioned the name Blitz to her, she would hesitate, then claim he didn't exist. But I knew she was lying.
Something was going on. Something had happened at the museum.
I didn't have much time to think about it during the days, but at night, visions of Mr. Blitz with talons and leathery wings would wake me up in a cold sweat.
The freak weather continued, which didn't help my mood. One night, a thunderstorm blew out the windows in my dorm room. A few days later, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the Beya River touched down only twenty kilometers from Chivers Academy. One of the current events we studied in social studies class was the unusual number of small planes that had gone down in sudden squalls in the Tatiana Sea that year.
I started feeling cranky and irritable most of the time. My grades slipped from Ds to Fs. I got into more fights with Frostine Diablo and her friends. I was sent out into the hallway in almost every class.
Finally, when our English teacher, Mr. Smith, asked me for the millionth time why I was too lazy to study for spelling tests, I snapped. I called him an old sot. I wasn't even sure what it meant, but it sounded good.
The headmaster sent my dad a letter the following week, making it official: I would not be invited back next year to Chivers Academy.
Fine, I told myself. Just fine. I was homesick.
I wanted to be with my Dad in our little apartment in Zephyrine, even if I had to go to public school and put up with my obnoxious stepmother and her stupid parties.
And yet... there were things I'd miss at Chivers. The view of the woods out my dorm window, the traffic in the distance, the smell of cherry trees. I'd miss Ember, who'd been a good friend, even if she was a little strange. I worried how she'd survive next year without me.
I'd miss English class, too-Ms. Sybil's crazy witch days and her faith that I could do well.
As exam week got closer, English was the only test I studied for. I hadn't forgotten what Ms. Sybil had told me about this subject being life-and-death for me. I wasn't sure why, but I'd started to believe her.
The evening before my final, I got so frustrated I threw the Cambridge Guide to Literature across my dorm room. Words had started swimming off the page, circling my head, the letters doing one-eighties as if they were riding skateboards. There was no way I was going to remember the difference between Celeste and Celestia, or the why Raven hated Daphne. And conjugating those verbs? Forget it.
I paced the room, feeling like ants were crawling around inside my shirt.
I remembered Ms. Sybil's serious expression, her thousand-year-old eyes. I will accept only the best from you, Zoe Autumn.
I took a deep breath. I picked up the grammar book.
I'd never asked a teacher for help before. Maybe if I talked to Ms. Sybil, she could give me some pointers.
At least I could apologize for the big fat F I was about to score on her exam. I didn't want to leave Chivers Academy with her thinking I hadn't tried.
I walked downstairs to the faculty offices. Most of them were dark and empty, but Ms. Sybil's door was ajar, light from her window stretching across the hallway floor.
I was three steps from the door handle when I heard voices inside the office. Ms. Sybil asked a question. A voice that was definitely Ember's said "... worried about Zoe, ma'am."
I froze.
I'm not usually an eavesdropper, but I dare you to try not listening if you hear your best friend talking about you to an adult.
I inched closer.
"... alone this summer," Ember was saying. "I mean, a Hollow in the school! Now that we know for sure, and they know too-"
"We would only make matters worse by rushing her," Ms. Sybil said. "We need the girl to mature more."
"But she may not have time. The winter solstice deadline- "
"Will have to be resolved without her, Ember. Let her enjoy her ignorance while she still can."
"Ma'am, she saw him... ."
"Her imagination," Ms. Sybil insisted. "The Fog over the students and staff will be enough to convince her of that.
"Ma'am, I ... I can't fail in my duties again." Ember's voice was choked with emotion. "You know what that would mean."
"You haven't failed, Ember," Ms. Sybil said kindly. "I should have seen him for what he was. Now let's just worry about keeping Zoe alive until next spring-"
The literature book dropped out of my hand and hit the floor with a thud.
Ms. Sybil went silent.
My heart hammering, I picked up the book and backed down the hall.
A shadow slid across the lighted glass of Sybil's office door, the shadow of something much taller than my wheelchair-bound teacher, holding something that looked suspiciously like a wand.
I opened the nearest door and slipped inside.
A few seconds later I heard a sound like that of buzzing bees. Then something tall stopped in front of the glass and moved on.
A bead of sweat trickled down my neck.