by Holly Hook
“Yikes,” I said.
“Shh.” Maria put her hand to her mouth. “Everyone knows what's happening, but we all just pretend things are okay.”
"What about you?" I blurted. "Do you know what you'll be yet?"
"No. Not yet."
I sensed I was to leave it there. We ate in silence for a minute before Maria said, "Oh, and try not to stare at the so-called cool kids."
Then I saw. Wendy sat halfway down the first years' table, across from a couple of cool-looking guys in shades and next to a girl in a ponytail. Maybe a former cheerleader. Wendy kept stealing glances at us and whispering among her friends. The guys wore purple robes, I realized, while the girls got toga dress things.
“Oh. So they're that group,” I said, glad to change the subject.
“Yep. Wendy knows she's going to get a good job when she graduates. And that she doesn't have to turn into anything,” Maria complains.
I got what she was saying. God descendants, even those who went to Cursed, fared better than monsters. “Who are the other three kids?”
“Oh. Serena's a descendant of Nyx and the two guys think they came from Thanatos. Yeah, the god of death. Their names are Percival and Duncan."
“God of death?” I asked. I'd thought a spinning black void was bad. “We have class with them? And Percival and Duncan?"
“They're complete jerks. Well, that goes with the territory.”
“What did I get into?”
“Not everyone here is bad. Hey, there's Mikey.” Maria waved to a short guy in glasses heading over to us.
“Maria!” he said, leaning over the table for a hug. He had a soft, almost feminine voice, and I instantly knew Mikey wasn't in my dating pool. “How you doing, girl? And who's this?” He had friendly eyes. No golden flecks, though. That probably made him a future monster.
“I'm Giselle. Just got here yesterday and, um, I don't know what the heck I'm doing here.”
“You must have powers,” Mikey said, sitting down with his tray. “Maria and I have been here since the start of the school year. We'll help you out. Keep the vultures away.”
I was making friends already and first class hadn't even started yet. My survival chances looked better already. “Great. That sounds really good.” I'll try not to suck any of you into a void.
“Is that Ronin?” Mikey asked, turning his head. “He's early today.”
I tensed and snapped my gaze to where he was looking. I'd been wondering how Maria knew about him when he went to Olympian Academy, not here.
Yes. He was walking into the dining hall. Dressed in white and impossibly hot, Ronin entered the lunch line. Some of the girls in the room stopped chattering as if his presence commanded silence. Ronin searched the room as he slid his tray down the line, and then his gaze landed on our end of the table.
And paused there.
Ronin's stare locked with mine. Even though twenty feet separated us, I could see the golden flecks in his eyes. Was that the air electrifying, making my skin tingle, or was that just me?
Then he looked at my dining companions. And snorted.
“Figures,” he said, turning away.
Translation: I knew she'd hang out with the losers.
I balled my fist, grabbed my fork, and stabbed my pancakes. Strawberry juice went everywhere, almost hitting Mikey.
“Oh, Ronin's a jerk to everyone at Cursed. He's above even Wendy's little club,” Mikey said. “Why do the hot ones always have to be that way?”
“I found that out yesterday,” I said, stuffing a piece in my mouth and trying mask my disappointment. “You're right. Ronin will never get a date with an attitude like that. Maybe Wendy could date him. What's he even doing here?” He'd already done his job.
What was wrong with me? Why was I attracted to a complete ass? And yuck.
“Eww,” Maria and Mikey said in unison.
“Well?” I asked.
“Wendy really does try to throw herself at him during lessons,” Maria says. “Ronin helps teach Combat Training on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Cursed Academy doesn't have that much money, so they bring over people from Olympian next door to help out. They don't have to pay students."
"He what?" I dropped my fork. Why Ronin? Wasn't he already a messenger?
“Don't even look at him, Giselle,” Maria warned. “He's out of our league. Even if all three of us came from gods, he'd still be.”
Ronin left the lunch line, walking past our table and then the others.
He didn't look back.
A sigh escaped me. Maria lifted an eyebrow, so I checked my phone—there were tons of messages from Carmen but ironically, none from Grandma—that I had yet to answer. And Randy hadn't even tried to contact me. He was probably still recovering from yesterday.
I finished eating and felt slightly stronger. I tried to listen to Maria and Mikey talking about how classes worked, but their words molded together. Then I followed them out of the dining hall as students scattered. We waited for the fourth years to exit—did that guy smell a bit like dog?—before we left. But I didn't see Ronin come back into the dining hall, not even to toss his tray in the trash.
Turned out we had to exit through the back of the building to get to our first class, and we walked partway down to the girls' dorms before pushing open some heavy wooden doors. A pathway lined with stone braziers, none of them lit, led to another cluster of buildings set back in the trees. Cursed Academy, it seemed, was mostly hidden in the woods. Appropriate.
“Combat is in the very back,” Maria explained.
“I hope we aren't shooting today,” Mikey added.
“Shooting?” I asked. “I'm an art geek.”
“With bows,” Maria explained. “Sometimes we have to scatter around the woods and shoot at targets. I almost got hit by some idiot thinking I was one last week. If we're lucky, we just spar.”
Okay, I was going to pass out. I knew most Cursed students eventually became soldiers or had security duties for their gods' homes and businesses, but until now I hadn't really thought about fighting. That wasn't me. “Can't we like, start with Divine History and then ease into this?”
“It doesn't work that way,” Maria explained. "They say combat isn't fair and we always have to be ready despite how we feel."
“Great.” The world darkened as we entered the trees. I was going to fail and fall on my face in front of Ronin and then he'd never let me hear the end of it.
Chapter Six
"First years. You're in the arena today. Over here!" Prometheus shouted from the right.
Turned out he was standing beside a gravel path that led even deeper into the trees, towards a building with an open roof and columns that rose above the woods. The titan still wore his wrinkled black suit, and a flash of anger filled me as our gazes met. I looked away as my mark burned ever so slightly. It was as if the Titan wanted to remind me that I was bound to Cursed.
The titan eyed me as we walked past, and the air heated around him. I gulped, turned onto the trail, and brushed some vines, which fell into my face.
"Good morning," Prometheus said to us. "Be careful. The gardeners haven't trimmed this trail very well, I'm afraid."
"No kidding," Mikey said. "Morning to you, too."
"He was staring at us," I said once we were out of the heat, and hopefully his hearing range.
"Prometheus isn't such a bad guy," Maria said. "He just deals with a lot of stress, I think. He has to run this campus on fumes. But he always tries to be nice to us. He must not have been one of the titans bad enough to get locked in Tartarus."
So Maria and Mikey didn't know much about him, either. So much for asking about that.
"He wanted me here." Then I caught myself and shut up. Good job.
"He wanted you here?" Maria asked. "Prometheus is always sad when a new student gets admitted."
I snapped my gaze to her. Maria frowned, no sign of a joke on her face. "He's sad when he gets new students?" He hadn't been that way with me.
/> Mikey cleared his throat. "He knows there's not much for us, I guess. Olympian gets all the money. But he's bound by the Divine Oath. Prometheus has to be here."
The Divine Oath. Back in regular school, after the Awakening and all the natural disasters and problems that came with it, the gods and the titans not in Tartarus had to get together and fix the problems they made. The gods agreed to train their descendants in Olympian, while the titans would train those in Cursed. They had to put a lid on all the disaster somehow.
And because of that Oath, my new mark was binding.
"Lo and behold, the arena," Mikey said.
He was right. Ahead, more stone columns, these ones made of white marble, emerged from the trees. They stood in front of an open entrance to a big, matching building with a dirt floor. It looked like an ancient arena, all right. I squinted, looking for Ronin, but he wasn't standing just inside.
"We share this building with Olympian," Maria told me. "Their campus is on the other side of the arena. Guess they didn't want to build one just for us."
"Their campus is next to ours?" I asked. I'd thought it would be on the other side of town.
"They don't like us going over to it," Mikey said. "The Olympians I've heard have all sorts of cool parties and our fourth years don't even get invited most of the time."
I thought of the snake girl and shuddered. I knew why.
We stepped into the arena, which was open on the top. Fresh air washed over my face as I looked around. Several wooden weapons racks stood off to the side, and I spotted dull swords, staffs, and even daggers. Shields and armor took up another rack. While some of them were plastic riot shields, others looked like they came right out of a ancient civilization. The same went for the armor. It was a weird mixture of the modern and the old.
"Welp," I said.
"I know. It's scary at first. In fact, it's still scary," Mikey said.
At least someone agreed with me. We stood to the side as others in purple uniforms—fellow first years—dragged their feet into the arena. Today, we were the only class in here, and I counted the other first years as they arrived. Wendy, Serena, and the two guys came in right after us, taking a place near the closest weapon rack. One of the guys eyed a mace. He had a mean look in his eyes.
"Stupid god descendants," Maria hissed.
"How do you know I'm not a god descendant?" I blurted.
"No flecks of privilege?" Mikey nodded. "You're safe."
I rubbed my eyes. Yeah. That.
In the end, I counted twenty other first years, all in dark purple. Prometheus entered as everyone stood around, waiting, and then Ronin stormed in right behind him.
The air heated in the presence of the immortal. Biting his lip, Ronin stared at the titan's back and stood with his arms folded behind him. The air thickened.
Ronin's gaze sneaked over to me just before Prometheus spoke.
"I know that Ronin usually directs your combat classes, but word has reached me that his performance has been less than satisfactory lately," the titan said. As she spoke, he sent a sideways glare back at Ronin.
Ronin opened his mouth to speak, a flabbergasted look on his face, but Prometheus held up a hand to silence him. A tingle of satisfaction ran up my spine, despite my anger at Prometheus's whole cursing me to attend this school. The air crackled with magic. What kind of magic did the mysterious titan have, anyway?
"I am therefore here to oversee your lessons today so I can assess whether these rumors are true," Prometheus said. "The curriculum the gods have assigned all first years, Olympian or Cursed, states that in October we begin sparring with more than just wooden swords. Today, you will choose your Birthright Weapon. Ronin will guide you through the rest." Crossing his arms, the titan stepped back to let Ronin take the lead.
A bit of sweat appeared on Ronin's temple as he stepped forward.
I was glad to see it, but teachers who picked on students were not cool.
Or maybe the titan was here because of me and he was making an excuse.
Yeah, right.
But maybe—
"First years!" Ronin shouted, clapping his hands. "This rack behind me holds an assortment of weapons. These are real weapons, crafted by the Hephaestus Society with the aid of oracles. When a god descendant or a future monster is born, the Society crafts a weapon for him or her, a weapon that only one person can wield effectively. You will find your Birthright Weapon today and you will know it is the correct one when you hold it. And with luck, all of you will start learning your fighting styles today."
I gulped. Ronin sounded very professional and definitely more fit as a combat instructor than Prometheus. What was the principal's problem?
And I was going to get the crappiest weapon on the rack for sure. I eyed the tiny dagger.
Ronin waved us forward and reluctantly, I walked towards the weapons rack.
"It'll be okay," Maria whispered. "No one can steal your weapon."
Wendy and her gang were already there, surrounding the end with the swords and crowding everyone else out. Of course the privileged kids would get the best weapons, leaving the rest of us with crap. God descendant weapons had to be better than monster weapons.
I looked at Ronin as I walked past, but he kept his arms crossed, working his jaw. It was as if I had ceased to exist. Somehow that hurt more than the mockery. I'd gone from small to nonexistent. And the thought sent a brief wave of those cold, black pulses under my skin.
I seethed.
"You okay?" Maria asked, reaching for a large club that looked as if it weighed a hundred pounds. She bounced it in her hands without much effort and smiled. Already she'd found her weapon.
"I'm fine," I lied. The longer I was at Cursed Academy, the more scared I got, and that was saying something. Even if I was making friends. "And you're strong."
"Yeah, that's why they brought me here," she said.
"We'd better find our weapons." Mikey tugged on my sleeve. "Hmm. I don't know what my fighting style would be, exactly."
"Stylish haircuts?" one of Wendy's guy friends asked.
"Shut up," Maria said to him. "At least his name isn't Percival."
The guy flipped us off and gave us a look of death with that golden-flecked stare. As he did, weakness filled my knees and my heart rate slowed. I turned away, instantly feeling better. It was literally a look of death.
"No arguing," Ronin ordered.
I gulped and followed Mikey down the rack.
"Well, you have slim pickings, don't you?" Wendy asked, emerging from the behind the rack. She held a sword that gave off a low thrumming. The sound instantly filled me with dread, and tiny skulls were carved all over the handle. That hadn't been hard for her to figure out.
A girl stepped out of the way, cradling a spear.
Great. All that was left now was a tiny dagger that might trim fingernails and a wooden staff that looked as if someone had tossed it aside for the past twenty years.
Wendy grinned and went to join the rest of the class.
"Well," Mikey said. "That narrows it down." He plucked the dagger off the rack, turning it over. "This is mine."
That left the stick.
I should have known I'd get that one.
With a sigh, I plucked it off the rack. No magical sense connection swept over me. In fact, the stick almost fell from my grasp as I turned, drawing a grin from Ronin.
I hurried back to the assembled first years.
What if I didn't have a birthright weapon?
Or it was at the other school?
No. That was stupid. I probably just didn't have one and they grabbed this stick as an afterthought. My body felt heavy, like I'd sink into the compressed dirt.
Maria smiled at me, but she couldn't help me now.
"Do not begin until we have the healers on site," Ronin instructed with reluctance. "They're walking over from Olympian right now but are running a bit late. We were out of an herb."
"Unacceptable," Prometheus said, stepping away
from the wall. "You are to have the healers here at the beginning of combat lessons from now on. First years tend to really hurt each other. We haven't had a death during lessons for the past two years, and I'd like to make it three."
"D...death?" I asked. "During lessons?"
"Yes," Percival said, puffing his chest out with pride. "Death." He held a mace with ravens carved on the handle.
Prometheus ignored me as if I asked if there was going to be homework. Well, I'd prefer that to dying. Sweat gathered at the base of my neck. Mikey shifted beside me and Maria let her club hang by her side.
"The healers are always late. I try to tell them to hurry, but they drag their feet. All they have to do is garden," Ronin said.
I'd forgotten that healers, like oracles, also got to go to Olympian Academy. Why couldn't I be a healer? I didn't belong with these scary, badass kids, and yet Prometheus threw me in.
"You need to tell them—oh, here they are. Ladies, file in over here." The titan smiled and waved in a line of girls, entering through the opposite end we had. All wore white robes with gold trim like Ronin's. Silent, the six of them stood against the wall. Each girl held a leather pack bulging with stuff. I'd be needing them for sure.
Ronin eyed me again.
I couldn't read his expression. But I felt exposed.
"All right, everyone. Let me pair you up with appropriate partners," Ronin said. "Giselle. You can pair with Mikey since your weapons are, well—"
"The boy has a very short weapon, and she a long weapon," Prometheus said, eyeing the staff.
"Combat isn't always going to be fair," Ronin argued, working his jaw. "The first years need to learn how to work around that."
"I am the principal," Prometheus reminded him. "Giselle, it would be best if you paired with Wendy."
Terror exploded in my gut and I feared I'd puke up the strawberry pancakes. "Wendy?"
Ronin paled. "She is top of the class."
I wasn't sure if I liked his new reaction better than, say, snorting. Was that concern in his eyes? That same concern that was there for a moment as he drove me from the sorting temple?