by B.J. Keeton
Chapter Three
“What does the headmaster want?” Ceril asked Nephil as they walked out of the Library.
“To meet with you in person.”
“About what, professor?”
“If I had to guess, Ceril, it would be,” Nephil pointed at the gold sword in Ceril’s hand, “that. I am sure that he will want to fill you in on the details himself.”
As Ceril left the Library, he felt the same wet, tingling sensation and felt the same waft of air as he had when he had entered. Nephil turned toward him as the Library door closed. He said, “Would you like to leave that in your dormitory before you meet with Headmaster Squalt, Ceril?”
Ceril's mind raced. Which was the right thing to do? Walk into the new headmaster’s office holding a fiery, green sword? Would that be threatening to him? Not from someone as young as Ceril, surely. But he thought back to the video of the Charons from the night before, and he knew otherwise. On the other hand, if this was the same sword as he had found with Gramps, then he didn’t want to leave it out of his sight. He wasn’t even sure if he could, the way it appeared during Presentation and all. He weighed both sides and eventually said, “No. I don’t think so.”
Professor Nephil’s facial expression never changed. He just said, “Did your roommate see the sword, Ceril? Did you show Mr. Dann?”
“No,” Ceril said. “He didn’t.” It wasn’t a lie. Swarley didn’t see it. He had heard about it, but he certainly did not see it.
“Did you tell him about it?”
Crap. “Yes, sir,” Ceril admitted.
“And did he know what it was?” Nephil asked.
Ceril decided to be bold. “A sword? I am not quite sure how he would have missed that we were talking about a sword.”
“Don't be smart with me, Ceril,” Nephil snapped.
“I'm sorry, professor. He said it was a Charon's sword,” Ceril said.
Nephil nodded and that was the end of it. He said nothing else on the subject. Ceril was unsure of whether he had just doomed himself and somehow incriminated his best friend, but he did not want to press his luck either way, so he kept quiet.
“You got that at your grandfather’s house, did you not?” Nephil asked.
How did he know that? Ceril thought about it, then said, “Yes, sir.”
“It should have stayed,” Nephil said, “at your grandfather's house, buried and forgotten. And if not that, at least locked away in a trunk somewhere. But the place it should not have been is here at Ennd’s, least of all with you.” His words were harsh, but his tone was not. Ceril was slightly taken aback. He felt as though he was being scolded, but he couldn't be sure. Nephil seemed more resigned and worried than angry. Anxious, maybe. “Either way, Ceril, it's here now, good or bad. Come along. The headmaster is waiting.”
Nephil turned toward the door to the Library and opened a panel in the wall beside it. Ceril couldn’t see what was behind the panel very well, but he did notice a screen, a keypad, and more than one dial. Nephil manipulated each of them, and Ceril heard a whuff-pop as the teacher closed the panel and opened the door to the Library.
“After you,” Professor Nephil said as he held the door open for Ceril and waited for him to step through.