Cursed Academy (Year One)

by Holly Hook

  It wouldn't matter. I was about to die. Wendy stepped forward, sword at her side. A wicked glint filled her eye as my legs made me do the same.

  A sword against a staff. Real fair.

  And I was sure this was not my weapon. Ronin couldn't have—no. He was too professional.

  "Perhaps we should demonstrate a sparring session in front of the other first years," Prometheus said. His tone left no room for argument.

  "Yes," Ronin said after a reluctant pause. He stepped forward. "We should. Square off!"

  Wendy spread her feet, getting into what was clearly a battle stance, and I tried to mimic. My ankle bent inward, almost making me trip. My pulse hammered in my ears. No. Stupid feet, don't betray me now. Sweat gathered between my fingers. Wendy raised the sword to almost touch her shoulder. Oh, and it was sharp. The low hum filled me with dread. She held a weapon straight from the Underworld.

  Once my legs were in place, I raised the staff in what I hoped was a threatening manner to my shoulder. Wendy snorted. Yeah, I looked stupid, but at least I hadn't gone down on my face yet.

  "How do we spar?" I blurted.

  Fail. Epic fail.

  "Try to strike one another. Knock your opponent to her knees or disarm her," Ronin instructed, not missing a beat. "The key is to feel for your fighting style. Your weapon will guide you."

  Thanks to my sweaty palms, I could barely hold the staff. None of that cold, angry darkness swirled inside me. And I was sure Wendy's abilities were warm and fuzzy.

  "Oh, no. She's dead," Mikey whispered.

  Ronin cleared his throat to shut him up. "Begin!"

  Wendy didn't waste a nanosecond. She charged me, swinging the thrumming sword down at my shoulder, and I knew she meant to cut me, to hurt me, to put me in my place. I dodged, barely missing the blade as I pulled my staff out of the way. My shoelace got caught under my heel, and I stumbled, but no one laughed.

  Wendy whirled and raised her weapon. A grin crept onto her face as she pulled her sword back, ready to swipe at my torso. The hunger and jealousy filled her eyes. What gave?

  She swung. The blade thrummed.

  I raised my staff without thinking. It struck the sword with a loud clack, and of course I lost my grip and the staff fell. Wendy snorted in victory. I backed away. Heat rose into my face. Ronin just saw this. Everyone knew I was a loser. And it was all because of a mistake.

  Electric ice filled my veins, riding on darkness.

  The power.

  It was back.

  Wendy raised her sword once again, ready to hit an unarmed person, and I backpedaled, no longer caring about the humiliation of this.

  "The fight is o—" Ronin started.

  "Wait," the titan told him.

  Wendy growled and charged.

  The cold, sharp darkness reached a peak, and as I lunged out of the way—a loud sucking sound filled the air.

  Oh, no.

  “Wendy!” I shouted in warning.

  She stopped just before reaching a new tear in reality. Like the one in the art room, this one was full of swirling darkness deeper than black. People gasped. Wendy's dark hair snapped against her face as she backpedaled. To the side, people peeled themselves from the wall, gasping and watching. Prometheus's jaw dropped and Ronin stood there, frozen, as a fierce wind funneled into the pit and pulled Wendy's arm—and her weapon—with it.

  “My sword!" she shouted, digging her feet into the dirt.

  “Let go!” I yelled. Wendy might be horrible, but I didn't want to see—

  My rival screamed. I gripped her arm, pulling her back. She let go of the thrumming sword. It flew from her grasp and into the maw, turning to purple light before vanishing.

  "What the heck?" Mikey asked.

  "Everyone. Exit," Ronin shouted.

  “Stop! Stop now,” Prometheus shouted, gripping the weapons rack with one hand and fighting the growing wind with the other. “Your turn is over.”

  Terror pushed aside the darkness within, and the opening snapped shut while Wendy fell forward back into me and got her bearings. She sucked in a breath and silence fell over the arena. I let go of her arm. My heart raced in my chest, in my throat, and in my sweating palms. I

  I'd just destroyed the Queen Bitch's birthright weapon.

  And almost her, too.

  This was not going to go well.

  My new friends gaped at me as if I had landed from another planet, which in Cursed Academy, said a lot.

  “What kind of freak are you?” Wendy shouted at me, quaking. She straightened out her purple uniform and backed away, paling so much her black lipstick managed to stand out even more. "What did you just do?"

  A descendant of Hades had gone from hating my guts to, well, I didn't even have a word for it. Was there something above hate? I could run from this whole disaster, but where would I go?

  Ronin rushed me. I whirled on him, expecting him to laugh in my face, but instead, he frowned and gripped my shoulders.

  “Come on,” Ronin whispered in my ear.

  His voice sent a tingle down my spine as he formed a shield between me and the rest of the first years. People muttered. No one had actually left the arena. Numb, I let Ronin guide me back onto the gravel trail. Vines hung all around us and Ronin gently pushed me through a curtain of them, taking me down another, obscured trail with unlit lanterns and stone pillars along its edge. I tried to breathe, but Ronin's touch mixed with my terror. He wasn't mocking me?

  “Where are we going?” I managed to blurt at last. My chest hurt from all the adrenaline rushing through me. How much longer could I take being here?

  “You needed to get out of there before you killed someone,” Ronin said. "True to my word, you almost made Wendy trip."

  “No kidding.” A hiccup escaped me. Great. The jerk had returned.

  But Ronin didn't laugh. “Sit down. On this rock. To sit, bend your legs and lower yourself.”

  Strangely, his instructions helped me breathe out and sit on a rock that overlooked a dark pond. The water itself looked like a black mirror, but at least none of that scary, swirling darkness filled this one. It just looked as if you could fall in and never reach the bottom.

  Ronin stood beside me, watching the trail, but no one was coming.

  “Giselle, no one has ever done what you've done before.”

  His words broke the silence. “Opening that hole, you mean?”

  Ronin paced. “Yes. And destroying another student's birthright weapon. Good move."

  “Did you bring me here to tell me I screwed up? I already got that idea."

  He whirled on me, and as if remembering he was supposed to be an ass, rolled his eyes. "Yes." The pressure from his hands lingered on my shoulders. “They don't teach you some things in high school Divine History. You didn't hear this from me, but the gods—and their descendants—can be jealous.”

  “Why of me?” I asked, rising from the rock. “I can't even walk straight. You saw.”

  Ronin grinned. “Yes. I did.”

  “Back to true form, I see."

  Ronin responded by leaning against a mossy tree. “I don't know what you are, Giselle, but you're interesting. And you don't want to be interesting in this world, trust me. Not that it'll matter. You couldn't even maintain a grip on your weapon."

  “Look, I get that Wendy doesn't like me and now she's going to ramp it up even more. Are you saying she might try to stab me in my sleep?” I had an alarm system. Instead of making me feel better, the thought turned my stomach and I feared I'd puke right in front of Ronin. “Does Prometheus know—”

  “Students! Class is not yet dismissed,” Prometheus shouted from the trail. “Ronin! Duck out one more time, and I will inform—”

  “Why am I wasting my time here?” Ronin asked. He glared at me as if this were my fault, when it was one hundred percent his. Then he snapped his fingers. “Get back to class.” He turned his back on me and stalked down the trail.

  The titan, who I couldn't see from here, rem
ained silent.

  What the heck?

  I stood next to the scary pond, Ronin's touch fading on my shoulders, before taking a breath, suppressing another hiccup, and following.

  Something wasn't adding up here.

  I had to find out what I was and why things were going so wrong for me.

  Chapter Seven

  Ronin stood aside during the rest of class, as did Wendy. I watched Maria spar with a guy with dreadlocks who had chosen a broadsword from the rack. She swung her club with ease. She was strong and she managed to knock the sword from the guy's grasp. He stood there in front of his weapon, trying to grin, but shame filled his eyes.

  But Maria didn't smile when she rejoined us.

  "Next," Ronin said, waving Mikey forward.

  Mikey, though he had the tiny dagger, got paired up with the mace guy. Percival. I forgot all about my display and watched, drawing blood from my lip, as Mikey backed away from the scowling dude with the dagger in his hand. Percival grinned evilly as he approached. Mikey was going to die. As if sensing I wanted to jump in, Maria clamped her hand down on my shoulder.

  I pulled, but there was no getting away from her.

  “We can't interfere,” she hissed. “Watch."

  Great.

  But then Mikey backpedaled again and spread his arms, almost as if meditating, and stared down his opponent. Percival blinked. His limbs went slack. Then he dropped the weapon and shuffled stupidly towards Mikey, who for a moment had a strange, hungry gleam in his eyes. His skin took a faint bluish tinge. I couldn't stop looking at him. My legs wanted to carry me to him. I pulled against Maria, but she pushed down on my shoulder, compressing me there.

  “Look down,” she ordered.

  Her words broke the trance and I did, as Percival closed the distance between them.

  What was wrong with Mikey?

  What was Mikey?

  “Next!” Ronin shouted, stepping forward and motioning for the guys to break apart. He, too, stared at the ground as he did so.

  Miley's opponent shook his head, breaking the spell. Ronin motioned for them both to join the other first years. Mikey trained his eyes on the ground as if scared he'd put me and Maria in a trance next. But at least his skin had returned to its normal color.

  “Great job,” I said, giving him a thumbs-up. But the tension remained.

  Mikey took his place beside us. “Just don't ask me to sing, and we'll all be fine.”

  Huh? But before I could ask why, Maria shook her head at me.

  Combat Training ended a few minutes later, and as Ronin held up a hand and motioned to the weapons rack, he didn't look at me. "Everyone. Place your weapons back for now. You will not carry them with you outside of class until you are third years."

  We all did as we were told.

  "If I had a weapon," Wendy snarled.

  Ronin nodded to her. "We'll contact the Society and see if they can make you a new sword. What happened wasn't fair."

  I had to get out of there. Both Mikey and Maria grabbed my sleeves and hauled me to the exit the second we were done putting our stuff back.

  Prometheus stood at the entryway, waiting for us to leave, and his greenish gaze fell on each student in turn. Almost like he was sizing us up. But he smiled, and something about it was reassuring. Like maybe I wouldn't die here.

  I looked after Ronin, but he walked through the opposite entryway. He kept his shoulders raised, blocking everyone out, and he swaggered through the archway and out of sight.

  "Keep going," Mikey warned.

  Already, Wendy and her crew gathered in a little group, still inside the arena, and I knew what the topic of conversation was.

  "What was all that about?" I asked. "Does Prometheus hate the Olympian kids?"

  "He was brutal on Ronin," Mikey said. But he sounded distant.

  Turned out we had lunch next, and Ronin didn't appear there. Disappointment filled me as I scanned the dining hall. Maria stayed quiet. Mikey stayed quiet. I didn't like that. Something had changed since Combat Training and I had no more answers than I did when I arrived last night. In fact, I just had more questions.

  “Do either of you know what I am?” I asked to break the silence.

  Mikey stabbed at his vegetables. “If we did, we'd tell you. I don't think you're what I'm going to be, so let the nice cool relief wash over you now."

  Maria looked to Mikey from the corner of her eye. The tension thickened the air even more, even though Wendy and her gang were sitting on the other end of the first years' table.

  “Putting someone in a trance isn't so bad,” I said. “Look at what I did. I just made mortal enemies with a descendant of Hades by doing something even scarier than she could do. And I don't think that stick was my birthright weapon."

  Mikey lifted his gaze to me. His pupils were dilated. “My mom was descended from a Siren. You know, the singing monster ladies who lured sailors to their deaths with their voices? Yeah, I don't know how that happened, but it happened, and she had to leave my dad because she always had the urge to take her monster form and eat him. And worse, he couldn't resist her or her voice. Her leaving tore him up.” He dropped his fork as if his food were covered in worms.

  “Your mom had a great voice?” I asked. Siren descendants weren't common and stayed around the gods, who could control and resist them unlike mortals.

  “Well, it came with a price,” he said, slapping his hand to the table. “In a few years I'll be able to sing a top forty hit, no problem, but I'm not looking forward to the rest.”

  “Mikey, I'm sorry.” My throat went dry and my food smelled stale all of a sudden. Some people knew what they were before coming here. I'd forgotten that not everyone shared my story.

  “Well, I'm a dude, and sirens tend to be female, so I don't know for sure what's going to happen,” he said. “Today was the first time I put anyone in a trance."

  “Oh.” Maria looked at me and frowned. "By the way, I don't know what I am yet. But clubs aren't weapons for beautiful people."

  Mikey went back to jabbing his lunch. Maria and I stayed quiet. I tried to get my lunch down, and I was hungry, but it wasn't much use. The other first years ignored us and no one came to sit at the freak's end of the table. But I caught glances in my direction. People looked and snapped their gazes away again.

  Lunch ended, and Maria told me, from seemingly far away, that we had Exploratory Arts next.

  “That doesn't sound so bad,” I muttered.

  "It's not." Mikey walked ahead of us, as if he were ashamed, but by the time we reached our next class, a cool-looking room full of pillows and a central fountain, he was patting the black pillow beside him, motioning us over. That was the Mikey I'd met this morning.

  Exploratory Arts turned out to be just that. Well, there was no art, though a bunch of easels were standing up against the wall and the place smelled like a mixture of the art room back home and the sorting temple. It was a nice smell. Marble pillars held up the swirly ceiling and the teacher turned out to be the same oracle, Natalia, from the sorting temple. Even better. She led us through an open meditation session, telling us to let any impressions come to us as we closed our eyes and breathed along to some calming music.

  "Anything at all," she said. "Some of you may find you have the gift of prophecy, while others among you may see glimpses of your true nature if you do not yet know it. Others among you may get ideas about how best to approach your future."

  Mikey resisted beside me, shuffling around on his pillow, while Maria seemed to sink deep into a different kind of trance. Her breathing evened out.

  Despite the music, I couldn't calm my racing thoughts. I kept drifting back to Ronin, trying to make sense of him, but the music and Natalia's voice didn't help with that, either. After a good hour of this and once my body had just started to relax, we were off to Magical History, a class I'd taken back home, but my palms tingled as we walked across the campus to a smaller, dark building opposite the arena. Its entryway wasn't as big,
with shorter pillars, but it was still cool to climb the marble steps. Maybe Cursed Academy wouldn't be so bad after all.

  Inside what turned out to be Building B (yeah, original) there was a pretty normal-looking hallway with several classrooms and closed doors. Maria and Mikey led me to the last one on the right, which turned out to go to a carpeted room with lots of shiny, new hardcover books on the shelves and new desks. We took seats on the far right of the room, staying together, while Wendy and her friends took the back like the cool kids would. I could feel her glare on the back of my neck, prickling and full of dread.

  “Who's the teacher?” I asked.

  “Mrs. Allenson. She comes over from Olympian and is the librarian there. Descendant of Athena. Super smart. I know. Predictable,” Maria said.

  “That explains all the books,” I said, looking around. “Why do most of our teachers come from Olympian, anyway?”

  “They just do,” Mikey told me. “I guess they don't think monsters would make good teachers. Imagine if they put a Gorgon at the front of the class.”

  “Yeah. That would be bad,” I said. I'd never seen one and didn't want to.

  Maria leaned over to me, lowering her voice. “I think the Olympians like to keep an eye on us, to tell you the truth. Since most of us will he working for them.”

  “Good point.” The room seemed to grow around me and I felt like I was going to sink into the floor. Of course I'd be working for somebody. It just wouldn't be Grandma.

  The classroom filled with first years, all in purple, and soon we made up a grid of deep violet spread through the room. The teacher turned out to be an older woman, with perfect gray hair lined with silver at the edges and brilliant hazel eyes with golden flecks inside. Though she was short, her whole stance and the way she gently bit her lip said brains. But she also had a sharp look in her eyes, like a warrior librarian. Wasn't Athena a war goddess, too? Made sense. Mrs. Allenson must be a smart warrior. Her white toga uniform, this one trimmed with silvery blue, shone under the florescent lights.

  “Good day, class,” she said, placing down a stack of books on her desk. She didn't pause over me, which only added to the small feeling. “Notebooks out. You be tested on this material at the end of the month. I suggest that you study because all of you will need it.”