Ten minutes later, after I was properly situated, I came face to face with a hen that was clucking at me. I gaped at it, flabbergasted. The hen had a speckled coat and crazy eyes that looked like they might pop out of their sockets. I stared at it warily, and the imaginative part of me began to think that I was having a mental showdown with a chicken.
What had everything come to?
“Do you want to fight?” I said, grabbing my wand, which was attached to the belt on my waist. “You don’t want to get on the wrong side of lady love, chica. Love can hurt you real bad.”
“Are you really talking to a chicken?” Liam asked, raising a brow. He’d been assigned to stand next to me.
“I talk to everything.” Myself especially, and I was proud of it because I was my own best company.
“Hundreds of goddesses I could have gotten,” Liam mumbled, “and I get the one with more than a few screws loose in her head.”
“You got the adventurous one. The goddess who won’t leave you bored.”
Liam sniffed. “That’s one way to put it.”
He could mope all he wanted. Awesome with a capital A was standing right next to him, and he was too blind to see her.
The professors had begun placing scoreboards in front of every class. After my better performance yesterday, my name was sitting somewhere in the middle. Still, that was nowhere near the top ten percent I needed to be in to be completely safe.
The professor called for us to look at him, so I snapped my gaze to him.
Francesca Bitchface had also joined this lesson. She looked like she’d never seen a chicken before, and she stared down her animal like it was a puzzle. She handled her chicken improperly. It flapped its wings and let out a distressed sound. Francesca yelped and took a step back.
“What are you smiling at?” Liam asked.
“The small things in life.”
Liam followed my gaze. When he noticed Francesca, he snorted, not caring much about her.
The professor began, “These chickens look normal, but they are anything but. They were blessed by Athena herself, and are capable of providing riches along with sustenance. If you treat them right and they like you, they will give you a constant supply of golden eggs. Fail, however, and the chicken will only lay poison green eggs. Our goal today is to make these majestic beings like us, so they will want to provide for us.”
It was the first time I’d ever heard a chicken be called “majestic.”
“It’s simple. Give the chicken what it needs and likes. Slowly figure it out. The first step is to feed it the right kind of grains. There are many to pick from. Millet. Rice. Corn. Every chicken is different, and we must take care in understanding their desires.”
“I’m not even sure if I want a golden egg that much,” I said.
“Pay attention,” Liam replied.
“If you give it the right food,” the professor continued, “the bird will warm up to you. Then, all you have to do is stroke it the right way.” He demonstrated what he meant on his own chicken. A moment later, the bird released a strained sound. It flapped its wings, sending white feathers in a multitude of directions, and a golden egg popped out of its behind.
The professor lifted up his prize to display it to the class. “Behold. Our reward. The shell is pure gold, and its contents are nutritious, even more so than normal eggs.” He looked at his chicken with reverence.
I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be disturbed by the lunacy of this situation.
After the professor finished his demonstration, we were left to our own devices. It didn’t take long for me to christen my chicken Molly. Molly cawed at me and shifted in her nest. She didn’t seem to want to leave her spot.
“Millet?” I asked, grabbing a handful from the stacked boxes of grains next to me. “What do you like to eat?” I offered the food to her, spreading my hand out in front of her beak.
Molly’s head twitched away from my palm. I clenched my jaw. To get Molly on my side, I had to try harder. I offered Molly more types of grains, but she declined every variety of them. My heart sank slightly each time. Never before had I wanted so badly to be friends with a chicken. Life experiences always hit you whenever you least expect them, and this moment had to be one of my lowest points. I tried all the available types of grains, and still, Molly refused me.
Anger rose in my chest. The unfamiliar, dangerous side of me threatened to surface. I sucked in a deep breath and pushed that version of me away. I’d be damned if, after fighting the voice for so long, I gave in to it because of a stupid chicken.
“Are there any more grains to try?” I asked Liam.
“I could ask the professor for you.”
“Please do.” I nodded.
Half of the girls had already finished with their assignment. I glanced at the scoreboard and saw my name gradually drop down in rank.
I watched the girls inspect their golden eggs with awe. They were beautiful eggs. But of course they were enrapturing—they were gold. People on Earth would be fighting over them.
Francesca Bitchface finished earlier than I did, too. She glanced across the table, smiling smugly at me. I scrunched my nose up, containing my anger. Her haughty grin tempted me to punch her face.
Liam returned with breadcrumbs. Did chickens eat those?
“Molly,” I said to the chicken, who gave me a stink-eye in return. She clucked, then wiggled in her spot. “Can you please stop making this difficult?” Should I be using such an aggressive tone? “You look really pretty today. I, uh, like your feathers. And when you cluck, you sound like a nightingale.”
I took the breadcrumbs from Liam.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Trying to get on her good side,” I replied.
“I don’t think the professor mentioned having to sweet-talk the chicken.”
“If something doesn’t work, try something else. Maybe Molly isn’t hungry. Maybe she’s just a sad soul with nobody to love her and needs to hear some compliments to uplift her spirit.”
Liam frowned. Giving up trying to understand me, he sighed and said, “You’re weird.”
“You’re only noticing this now?”
I offered the breadcrumbs to the chicken and attempted to ignore how my name was slowly dropping down the scoreboard. I kept hearing oohs and ahs around me as the girls got their eggs. Molly accepted my offer, finally. The sweet-talking must have worked.
“Yes,” I said, in a half-excited, half-creepy manner. Creepy, because I was looking at Molly like a mad scientist. “Aren’t you a pretty girl? Don’t you want to lay some eggs for me? You have a cute butt capable of laying pretty, golden, yummy eggs.”
“Can you not talk like that?” Liam asked.
I raised a finger and pressed it to his lip to shut him up.
“You’re supposed to stroke the chicken,” Liam reminded me.
Ah, yes. I needed to put all my efforts into making the chicken comfortable. Other girls stroked their chickens lightly, mimicking the professor’s movements. I, however, gave mine a full-on shiatsu massage. I’d never had to massage anyone before, but I did watch a couple YouTube videos on how to when I’d found myself lost to the strange side of the internet.
The chicken cooed. I thought I needed to give it space, so I let my hand fall and allowed it to preen its feathers. It looked at me with crazy eyes, then cawed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked Liam.
Liam shrugged. “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t speak chicken.”
“I thought you were smart.”
“Am I supposed to be offended by that?”
“Yes?” I said. “You take offense at everything because you brood at everything. The universe wouldn’t be working right if you were as jolly as Theo.” I shuddered at the image. Imagining Liam all happy gave me the creeps for some reason. It simply wouldn’t be like him.
We waited for a good three minutes in front of Molly.
I broke the silence by at
tempting to make more conversation with Liam. “Have you ever wondered what will happen if this all doesn’t work out?”
“What doesn’t work out?”
“Saving the girls. Or trying to get to the top of the class. Surviving. What if I die and you guys get sent to the concentration camp?”
“I’ve thought about it,” Liam said. “Keeps me up at night sometimes.”
“Does it?” I gaped at him. I hadn’t expected him to admit to a weakness. There were moments when Liam couldn’t sleep?
Liam huffed. “It’ll just suck. That’s why I’m by your side now, even though I find you kind of a pain in the ass.”
“Just kind of?”
“Yeah,” Liam said without a smile. “But strangely, I believe in you.”
I already had a snide remark on my tongue, but hearing the compliment gave me pause. “Huh?” I didn’t even believe in myself.
“You’re working hard to keep us safe, even though you seem like a dimwit half the time. Can’t hate somebody who tries so hard. Might even start to like her.”
“Like me?” I laughed his comment away sheepishly.
Molly stood from her nest haughtily, halting our conversation. She pranced off, revealing three eggs that lay neatly to each other. With beady eyes, Molly regarded me as if she hated me, but, judging from my results, I must have won her favor through my efforts. Instead of only one golden egg, she’d awarded me with three.
The professor walked over to me and peered into the nest. He adjusted his spectacles and huffed. “Interesting. This is the first time I’ve seen one of these chickens lay three eggs at once. You must have pleased her greatly.”
I wiggled my fingers in front of me. “Must have been my awesome shiatsu massage skills.”
“What is that?”
“Never heard of shiatsu before?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“You’re missing out.” Honestly, I didn’t even know what an actual shiatsu massage was supposed to be.
Liam tapped my shoulder. I turned to him, then saw him gesturing to the scoreboard. My name had shot up the list, and I was closer to the top than ever. I beamed.
“Well done,” Liam said, still wearing a blank expression.
“It’s a start.”
I had to push myself much harder if I wanted to save everyone.
Francesca Bitchface was back to climbing the social strata of catty girls again. After watching how amazing I’d been at taming chickens, she’d given me a new nickname—Caramel Valencia, Great Tamer of Chickens. At the end of creature cordiality, she offered me a large bow, sweeping her hands out in front of her, and christened me with my new title. A bunch of girls, obviously jealous of my heritage and how well I was performing, mimicked her. The name caught on and spread like wildfire.
Joke was on them. I wore the title proudly. At least I had a title. They had to continue through life being all normal and boring and title-less.
“Tamer of Chickens,” Danna said, combing her hair while she sat on my bed. “It almost sounds terrifying.”
“It’s not uncommon for queens to have familiars in fables, yes? Some queens have dragons. I have chickens. They can’t breathe fire, but at least they can provide a nutritious breakfast. I’ll take a healthy meal over a destroyed village any day.”
“Exactly,” Danna replied, pumping her fists again in an excited manner. Despite everything that had been going on, she still hadn’t shed her cheerleader personality, and I was thankful for it. Everybody needed a cheerleader in their life. Life was often too shitty.
The night had quietened, and it was almost bedtime, but it was nice spending the last hour before lights out with my best friend. We’d painted our nails. I’d chosen a glittery silver shade. I’d asked Danna to adorn my middle fingers with stars, so that whenever I had to flip someone off, I could do it in style.
Danna stood and stretched. We’d been sitting for too long. She sighed and pulled my curtains back to let more moonlight stream in. “I told my vassals about the morgue. They asked me not to butt into it. Say it’s better to let the goddess continue in their ways, since we’re just kids who don’t know what we’re doing. I think they want me to stay alive, that’s all.” She peered out the window, and, following her gaze, I looked at the two crystal moons that glowed between the glittering stars.
“Really?” I asked. “They sound like they’ve resigned to their fates.”
“I think they’re mostly concerned for my safety. They say I should focus on being close to the top, which I already am.” Unlike me, Danna was good at pushing herself and studying. “If I butt into what Agness is doing, I might get caught in the crossfire.”
“And what do you think?”
“Screw them,” Danna said. “I can’t sit around doing nothing. Have you gotten a lead?”
“I haven’t had an opportunity to speak to Devon yet, but he’s supposed to have learned something from his dad during our visit.”
“You met his dad already?” Danna asked, her brows creeping up her forehead. I realized that I’d never told her about our little visit. “That’s fast.”
“It doesn’t mean anything in terms of our relationship, if that’s what you’re referring to.”
“Still…” Her voice trailed off when her attention caught something outside her window. “If you need to talk to him, now would be a good time.”
“Hm?” I cocked my head.
“Devon’s sitting outside in the courtyard. You can go ask him.”
I strode up to the window and peered down, following where Danna pointed. Devon stood out from the dimness of the night. He was dressed casually in a shirt and pants. Sitting on an ornate bench, he had one leg crossed over another. His eyes were fixated on a book.
“He looks busy,” I said.
“It’s just reading.”
“Yeah. I don’t know how people do that.”
“How did you get past high school?”
“I didn’t.”
Danna blinked in shock. I realized I’d never told her about my dropping out.
I frowned at Devon, then sighed. I’d been putting off confronting him, since I wasn’t sure how things would go, but now was as good a time as any other. I stood from my bed. “I guess I’m going, then.”
As I strode toward the exit, Danna clapped her hands and gave me two thumbs up.
I laughed. “I’m only going to talk to my own vassal. You don’t have to encourage me every time, you know?”
“Nonsense,” Danna replied. “It’s good to be excited, even about the smaller things in life.”
Facing Devon gave me little excitement. I didn’t want to face his apathy and rudeness.
I walked out of the dormitory, climbed down the stairs, and headed toward the courtyard behind it. Devon was still sitting on the bench when I arrived. He closed his book. When he set it down, I casually glanced at the title—Vassaling 101. How to care for your goddess the right way.
Was it a textbook?
“I didn’t think you’d need an instructional booklet just to care for someone,” I said. “Seems like overkill.”
Noticing my arrival, Devon uncrossed his legs and stood, closing the distance between us.
Why was he nearing me like that? I thought he didn’t want anything to do with me.
Not knowing what to think, I flinched away, but Devon grabbed my hand and ran a gentle touch across the back of it. “It’s harder than it sounds. People are complicated beings. Goddesses, especially.” His voice was soft, smooth, contrasting with the hard intensity of his gaze. Why was he looking at me like that?
I cleared my throat. “Uh, I just wanted to talk to you about what happened with your father. Did you get any useful information? You’ve been dancing around the topic ever since we got back.”
Devon shook his head. The intensity in his eyes lessened, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he really wanted to kiss me. Why? Hadn’t his heart been captured by that Abigail girl? “I thought I might get s
omething from him, but my father wasn’t very helpful. Most of the meeting consisted of him reprimanding me. I just… didn’t want to talk about it after going through all that. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” I blinked. “Devon Cierro, are you actually apologizing to me?”
He drew in a deep breath. “And why not?”
“Because you’re an insufferable prick with an ego the size of a mountain?”
My insult didn’t affect him at all. He drew his hand up and pinched a lock of my red hair between his fingertips. Devon had never looked at me this way before. His eyes were filled with too much loving care. This was not the Devon I knew.
“Are you plotting with Liam to make fun of me?” I asked.
Hurt flickered across Devon’s face. “What?”
“Or did I accidentally zap you with my magic? Is that why you’re being so nice to me now?”
Devon finished what he started and tucked the strand of my hair behind my ear. “Why are you questioning my intentions?”
“Because you’re doing a one-eighty. First, you’re all ‘I hate you, Cara, and now you’re looking up instruction manuals on how to care for me? People don’t just change like that.” I clicked my fingers in front of his face. Devon stood too close to me, and I attempted to not let the heat of his proximity bother me. He was too delectable, though, and my wild imagination began concocting images of him without his shirt on. I shoved those thoughts away even as they struggled to escape the mental cell I’d locked them in. “Your father said something to you to make you this way. I’m certain of it.”
“It’s not—”
“Something’s up your sleeve. And I’m going to find out what.”
“You have to give me some credit.”
“Credit is given to those who deserve it. And so far, you haven’t proven to me anything except for the fact that you’re a cocky asshole who happens to have really confusing mood swings.”
Devon pinned me with a lingering stare. I could almost taste the hurt that emanated from him, and I almost felt guilty for rejecting him like that. I had to remind myself that he was a grown man with the ability to take care of his own feelings, and until he proved otherwise, I shouldn’t have to baby him.
Waking the Goddess Page 6