by Raye Wagner
“Well, how sore are you?”
Hope frowned. “Why am I still sore? I’ve never been so sore in my life.”
Xan’s low chuckle rumbled through the space between them. “Aye. I probably should’ve told you, but I didn’t want you to hold back. The weapons were all immortal, so it might take you a day or two.”
“Immortal weapons? How did you get so many?”
“Hephaestus. And his sons. They like to make them, and I like to use them.” He rotated his neck in a quick stretch. “But they’re immortal, making the recovery extended. Sorry.”
He didn’t seem a bit sorry.
“Liar.” She slapped her hand over her mouth. Why was she always rude around him? It was like the filter from her brain to her mouth had been completely removed. Not that it had ever been a strong skill, but still.
He laughed. “You’re right. I’m not sorry, but I’m knackered too.”
“Well, that makes me feel better,” she chirped, her tone full of snark.
He raised his brows. “You should do a light workout today. It’ll help you not be sore. And your lessons start today.”
The berries soured in her mouth.
“What does Dahlia teach?” Maybe they’d ease her in with a friendly face.
“Well, her mom is Eris, so what do you think she teaches?”
Eris. Goddess of strife. Sister to Ares, right? Or was that too easy? She strained to put together the family tree of Greek deity. “You’re really cousins?”
Xan stopped picking at her fruit. “I told you I don’t lie.”
“Right. Sorry.” How many times was she going to put her foot in her mouth this morning? She racked her brain for something, anything, else to say. “Does every god and goddess have a demigod child?”
Xan shook his head. “Not all. The ones bound in the Underworld obviously don’t. And Persephone comes up, but she, Hera, and Artemis don’t have any.”
“You mean, they don’t have any right now?”
“What?” He narrowed his eyes at her.
“Hera and Artemis have had demigod kids before . . .” Her eyes widened, and panic beat in her chest. She blushed. “I mean, they would’ve had kids at some time, right?”
“Artemis is the goddess of virgins.” He looked at her like she’d sprouted another head. “So no sex for her. No sex, no children.” He blew out a breath. “And Hera is the goddess of marital fidelity. It’s like her motto or something. No human kids for her, either. I don’t know about Persephone, but I doubt it.” He pursed his lips. “Anyway, some demigods have good relationships with their immortal parents, and some don’t. There’s no general rule.”
“Who’s your dad?”
Xan stiffened. “You can’t guess?”
All at once she knew, and she felt stupid for not putting it together right away. “Ares.”
“Right.” Xan grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the door. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go to class.” He led the way out the back.
Hope stepped out onto a large stone patio with pots and containers dotting the edges. A vibrant lawn extended way past what the yard size should have been. Across the grass were several outbuildings, a flower garden, and a stone pathway lined with spiky grasses and fuzzy, white plants leading out into the yard.
He whistled quietly and then crossed over to a greenhouse.
“Hey.” Hope ran across the lawn to catch up. “I thought we were going to work out?” As soon as she said it, she recognized she’d been looking forward to it. That was bad. She didn’t need to become attached.
“We will this afternoon. I think a little lesson in botany would be good this morning.”
Good for her or good for him? One glance at his face and she decided not to ask. Somehow, she’d made him mad. Again. It was almost like a special talent, putting her foot in her mouth. And she wanted him on her side, at least until she got what she needed in the library.
They entered the greenhouse and were greeted by Kaia, Demeter’s daughter, who was short. Like ten-year-old-boy short. Her dark, curly hair was pulled up in a bun, and her thick glasses made her doe eyes huge. She was distracted, but nice, and she and Hope spent the next couple of hours digging in the dirt. When Kaia released her with praise, Hope wasn’t even sure they’d planted anything.
Despite telling herself she wasn’t going to get attached, Hope couldn’t help the excitement that thrilled though her as she rinsed the dirt from her hands. It was time to work out. She raced inside to change before heading to the gym.
Xan greeted her with a pair of gloves, and they ran target drills. Over and over again, Xan called out combinations of punches, kicks, and strikes. It took all her focus to land what he called.
“All right. That’s it.” He tossed the targets against the wall.
“That’s it?” Hope asked. “I was just getting warmed up.” Her arms hung limp like they were filled with lead, and her shirt was dark with sweat.
Xan shifted back a step, his face deadpan.
“You have, uh, study hall in thirty minutes, and you’d better shower afore you go.” He indicated her sweaty clothes.
“Study hall?” Why would it matter if she were showered? “Like sitting in the library reading?” That would be perfect. Maybe she could get someone to help her figure out how the library was organized.
“Uh, no, not really. But you’ll probably be doing lots of reading.” He rubbed his bottom lip and threw the targets into a pile in the corner.
He was hiding something. She could feel it.
“You best hurry. You don’t want to be late. Fifteen hundred in the library; if you get a minute, eat something. You might be in there for a long time.”
“Fifteen hundred?”
“Three o’clock.”
Hope glanced at the clock and then ambled toward the exit.
“Hope?”
She wiped the sweat from her face and pulled her wet shirt away from her body. “Yeah?”
“Can I give you a piece of unsolicited advice?”
She raised her brows. “Sure.”
“Seriously, don’t be late.” He paused and then added, “You’d better run.”
Hope started at a slow jog.
SHE SLID INTO THE LIBRARY at 3:01, her damp hair pulled back into a loose braid.
Hope scanned the front of the room and saw only the young woman, who was always with Endy, sitting at a table reading a book. Obviously Hope’s teacher wasn’t here yet. She let out a sigh of relief.
The young woman stood up and walked over to her.
“You’re late.” She slammed a folder down on the table.
Hope opened her mouth to protest and then snapped it shut.
The girl curled her lip into a harsh sneer.
“My name is Obelia. I’ll be reviewing the current demigods with you.” She sounded formal, as if they’d never seen each other before, and she kept her gaze above Hope’s head, never meeting her eyes.
Hope measured the petite woman. Her movements were graceful, and despite being small, she was willowy with cropped, curly black hair. While the girl didn’t look to be very far into her teens, Hope knew appearances could be deceiving.
“It’s nice to meet you, Obelia. I’m Hope.” She held out her hand.
Obelia eyed at it briefly then put the stack of folders into it. “Your reading. I’ve listed who the god is, the mortal parent, and the demigod children going back as far as we have records. In the case of demigods currently living, I’ve tried to include whether or not the mortal parent is still living, and any other pertinent details. I’ll check back with you in about an hour, and we’ll see how you’re doing.”
“Okay.” Hope hefted the thick folders of papers in her hand. Yellowed edges of paper stuck out with bright white pieces. There were handwritten notes and typed text. “Um, before I start this, could you tell me how the library is organized? How do you find certain topics?”
Obelia raised her eyebrows. “Yes. I could.”
Exc
itement tickled Hope’s heart, and she bit her tongue to prevent herself from saying anything to irritate the demigod.
Obelia stood silent, glaring at Hope.
The excitement turned sour as the silence grew awkward.
“Your reading.” Obelia pointed at the folders. “Go ahead.” With that, Obelia left, her pixie-like body disappearing behind a stack of shelves. A faint hint of something fruity hovered in the air, but it disappeared with the demigod.
With a huff, Hope sat down at the desk. She’d need to know how the library was organized before she went searching again. And with only an hour before Obelia returned . . . Hope sunk back into the chair in defeat. If she got lost, would Obelia even look for her? Or would she get in trouble for not following directions? It wasn’t worth the risk. She opened the blue folder on the top of the stack and began to read.
Spidery script was mixed with clean print and text. The papers were varying degrees of weathered and aged. She read bits from each page, scanning through the contents.
She’d had enough history in school to know some of the famous people she was reading about. Hitler’s father wasn’t really Ares. It was Hermes. It was believable, considering the lies he’d told and the persuasive power he’d had. Believable, but super creepy. Athan was Hitler’s half-brother. Ugh. That was gross.
Ares had fathered Ghengis Khan. Endy, the obnoxious son of Apollo, was actually only a few months younger than Hope was, and he wasn’t the only living son of Apollo, which she’d known. Cleopatra was Aphrodite’s daughter. Shocker. But so was Gwen Stalio, the lead singer of Pradia, the blond bombshell who’d mysteriously died last year.
Hera’s and Artemis’s folders were empty. As were Hades’s and Persephone’s.
“You know, if you don’t read all the information in the folder, you’re going to miss something.” Obelia stood at the edge of the desk, her hands on her hips, her face pinched with displeasure.
“I was skimming through them.” Hope closed the folder. “I have every intention of reading everything.”
Obelia sniffed.
Hope held up the stack of folders. “Why are some of them empty? Xan said that some of the gods and goddesses haven’t had demigod children, but I mean Hera probably cheated on Zeus at least once, right?” She had to know. A Book of the Fates couldn’t be wrong, could it? And if it was right, how could there be no other record?
“Are you kidding me?” Obelia hissed. She looked around, as if to make sure they were alone, then leveled a glare at Hope. “You shouldn’t blaspheme like that. It isn’t funny. Like, not even a little bit. And it could get you killed.”
Okay. Maybe there was no record. “Right. So if the folders are empty, they don’t have demigod children.”
“That’s right, Einstein. Why don’t you start with Aphrodite and end with Zeus? Do you think you can do that?”
What had Xan called Endy? Dosser? Tosser? Ugh. Was that a male term only, because Obelia was awful. “Yes.” Get along. Hope needed to get along until she could get the information on Apollo and divine law. “I can do whatever you tell me.”
“Good. You know I’ve worked hard to compile all that data, and your tests aren’t going to skip around, all willy-nilly.”
Did she say willy-nilly? Hope bit the side of her mouth to keep her face straight.
“Maybe,” Obelia continued, “you can follow the outline so we don’t waste each other’s time, okay?” She pulled a piece of paper from under the stack of folders and set it on top.
It was a lesson schedule, listing the gods, their children, and dates of exams.
Hope’s stomach sank. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t see that.”
“Of course not.” Obelia rolled her eyes.
The flame of irritation burned up Hope’s throat. If the outline had been on top, she would have followed it.
“I said I was sorry,” Hope bit out. It seemed like Obelia was trying to pick a fight. And if she was in charge of the library, Hope was going to need her help. Best not to piss her off.
“Yeah, you did. Which, of course, makes it all better.” The girl pursed her lips then took a deep breath. “Let me say how sorry I am, too.”
The words fell to the floor, the insincerity bouncing off the ground and pelting Hope from every direction.
Hope didn’t know what else to say. Everything seemed to make it worse.
Obelia frowned. “Why don’t you actually do some studying now? That way, when I come back, we can talk about what you’ve learned. You should be able to get through the information on Aphrodite.” She pulled a bright yellow folder from the stack and set it off to the side. “Right here. I’ll see you in a bit.”
What a gorgon. It must have been torture to bring her in to a conservatory, and why? Why would Athan even bother? Ugh.
Hope opened the yellow folder and glanced at the top sheet. Time disappeared as Hope delved into the history of Aphrodite’s children. She read the story of Eros and Psyche with growing bewilderment. Hope couldn’t understand how the beautiful goddess could be jealous enough to want to thwart her own child’s happiness. There was much discord sewn by the goddess of love, much of hate, jealousy, and hurt. There were also tales of love granted, some which were exciting or refreshing; however, many were tragic. And when it came to her demigod children, Aphrodite’s daughters were often famous models, actresses, singers, and, more often than not, they met early, untimely deaths.
Clomping wood on wood drew Hope’s attention from the papers scattered across the top of the desk. Obelia crossed the room, several inches taller than earlier that day. She was dressed in vibrant colors that made her rich, reddish-brown skin practically glow. But the scowl she wore marred her beauty.
Hope saw the neon platform heels the young demigod wore and tried to suppress a grin. They had to be at least six inches.
“Something funny?” Obelia’s voice matched her frowny face.
Hope was never going to get on her good side. “No, ma’am.”
“Miss.”
Hope’s brow wrinkled in puzzlement, and she was at a complete loss of words.
“Miss,” Obelia repeated. “I’ve never been married, so I’m a Miss.”
Oh gods. Seriously?
“Of course. I’m sorry.” Hope glanced at the floor and wondered if she could crawl under the desk and then somehow escape through a trap door. Somehow she doubted there was a trap door in the Olympian Library.
Obelia sniffed, and the tension around her eyes smoothed out with her exhale. “Are you ready?”
Now what? Hope rubbed her chin. “Ready for what?”
“For your quiz. You’re here to learn, and I’m here to make sure you’re learning. Put the folder down, and let’s see if you’ve retained anything.”
Hope closed the folder slowly. Somehow, no matter what she said, it wasn’t the right thing. But perhaps this quiz would be more objective.
Obelia gathered the folders together and held them to her chest.
“Tell me what you know about Aphrodite,” she said.
Hope took a deep breath. “What do you mean?”
Obelia glared at her. “Can you remember anything you read? Anything at all?”
Hope blushed. “Yes. I just wanted to know . . . I mean, what do you want to know about her?”
Obelia crossed her arms. “Tell me anything you remember.”
Hope began reciting. “She was born when Cronus castrated Uranus. She is the goddess of love, sexuality, and beauty. Her symbols are doves, scallop shells, dolphins, pomegranates, and apples. She was married to Hephaestus, but her lovers include Ares and Adonis. Her divine children include Eros and Phobos. She’s had dozens of demigod children.” Hope recited everything she could remember reading about the goddess.
After a solid ten minutes of Hope talking, Obelia held up her hand.
“You’re very good at memorization.” Another frown.
It was so disheartening. The compliment completely deflated Hope. She’d been feeling really good,
too. And then Obelia just grumped it all away.
“Let’s see how much you remember tomorrow, and why don’t you read about Ares, too? We’ll pick up at three o’clock. Sharp. Don’t waste my time with tardiness.” Obelia clomped her way to the door.
Hope didn’t smile this time at the sound of the shoes. She had an almost uncontrollable urge to stick her tongue out at the pixie-like demigod. Almost.
And she still didn’t know how the library was organized.
“HOW ARE YOUR CLASSES GOING?” Xan asked over breakfast a couple of days later. “Are you learning much?”
They sat at the large kitchen table. The smell of cinnamon hung in the air.
Hope ran her finger along the grain of the dark tabletop. “Yeah, I guess.” The botany classes were fun, even if she sucked at making things grow. She loved the fighting and strategy classes. The anatomy and physiology courses were probably her favorite. Thenia taught those, as well as mathematics and sciences. Hope was supposed to be taking a cooking class, but Obelia refused to allow her to do that until Hope “showed more promise” in her history class.
“But?”
She leaned over the table and muttered, “Is Obelia always antagonistic?”
Xan laughed. “Is she giving you a hard time, luv?”
“She’s mean.” Hope could mostly avoid Endymion, and she did her best to. But she had to meet with Obelia almost every day for classes, and it sucked.
Xan’s shoulders fell. “Don’t be too hard on her. She’s had a rough adjustment.”
“How long has she been here?”
“Three or four years.” He peered up at the ceiling for a moment, then back to her. “Maybe longer.”
“What happened?”
He bent forward and motioned for her to do the same. When they were inches apart he whispered, “I’m not telling you.”
He sat back with a smirk.
She sat up straight in the wooden chair, frustrated by his teasing. “Why not?”
“It’s not my story to share. Ask her if you want to know.”
As if that would ever happen. Obelia had nothing but hate for her, as was manifested in every nasty interaction.