by Aimee Carter
Everything about my day was timed. Half an hour for breakfast, which was always full of my favorite foods. I didn’t gain weight, and that only gave me an excuse to eat as much as I wanted. After breakfast, I had five hours of lessons, where I studied mythology, art, theology, astronomy—anything Irene thought I needed to know. Daydreaming wasn’t an option either, being her only student, and she seemed to develop a distinct lack of compassion about what I was and wasn’t interested in learning. Still, there was one plus: at least Calculus wasn’t on the curriculum.
We spent an inordinate amount of time on the Olympians, the Greek gods who ruled the universe and who would decide my fate.
“Most people typically think there were only twelve,” said Irene. “But if you look carefully throughout history, there are fourteen.”
The significance of that number wasn’t lost on me. Fourteen Olympians and fourteen thrones. They would be the ones deciding my fate, and because of that, I paid extra attention to my lessons about them, as if knowing everything I could would somehow give me a leg up.
I learned about Zeus and Hera and their children; the children Zeus fathered with other women, as well as Athena, who sprang fully-grown from his head; about Demeter and her daughter, Persephone; and about the role Hades played. This was Henry, as my mother had mentioned, and it was strange to balance mythology with the knowledge that to these people, this was history. That apparently Henry had really done all these things. But the more I learned, the easier it became to accept it, and once Irene was sure I knew as much as I could about the members of the council, we moved on to other myths. But the Olympians were always present in those stories, too, and it did nothing to help calm my nerves.
In the afternoons, I was allowed to do whatever I wanted. Sometimes I stayed inside and read or spent time with Ava, and sometimes I went outside and explored the grounds. Past the edge of the elaborate garden was a forest that grew wild, and it extended through the other end of the property, hiding the river I knew was back there. I stayed within eyesight of the manor, not wanting to get anywhere near the water. I’d had enough excitement there to hold me for a very long time.
At the end of October, I ran across Phillip, head of the stables. He was a brusque man who didn’t speak very often, and his hair was wild, making him look intimidating, but he seemed passionate about his horses.
“Horses have as much personality in them as people,” he said gruffly as he introduced me to the fifteen horses in the stables. “If you don’t connect with any of them, don’t try to force it. S’like forcing a friendship–awkward and useless, and it’ll make both of you miserable. Long as you remember that, you should be all right.”
His stallions were powerful and fast, and with my luck I’d have fallen and broken something, so even though I liked spending time grooming them, I never asked to ride them. At first Phillip refused to let me anywhere near them with a brush, but I didn’t take it too personally. He didn’t let anyone near them; even allowing me inside the stables to see them was more than Ava got. On my third attempt, however, he grudgingly gave me permission to help groom them, as long as he was supervising. I had a sneaking suspicion Henry had something to do with his change of heart, but I didn’t ask. For the rest of the autumn, it was how I spent my afternoons, and though the weather grew colder, it remained warm in the stables.
As the weeks passed, I grew more and more comfortable in my new home. The rest of the staff stopped staring as I went by, and slowly we all got used to one another. It was almost peaceful, with my days spent with Irene, my afternoons with Phillip and Ava, and my evenings with Henry. And my nights— I lived for my nights, when I told my mother everything that was happening, and she was there to listen. Past the hedges, she was dying, but inside my dreams, she was still very much alive, and I wanted to keep her that way as long as possible. I knew I wouldn’t be able to escape the dark reality waiting for me once this was over, but for now, I could pretend that living in Eden meant remaining untouched by the real world.
It was mid-November when Irene announced that my first test would be given the following Monday. By the time I left the room, I was nearly sick with anxiety, and it must’ve shown.
“Kate?” said Calliope in a concerned voice as I shut the door behind me.
“There’s a test,” I said shakily. “On Monday.”
She seemed less than concerned. “Have you never taken a test before?”
I shook my head. She didn’t understand. “Test,” I repeated. “The kind where my whole future’s on the line. If I fail…”
Calliope’s eyes widened. “Oh. That sort of test.”
“Yeah.” I started walking in the direction of my bedroom, not interested in lunch. My appetite had vanished.
“Uh, Kate? Dining room’s this way. They made fried chicken for you.”
I could hear her trotting to keep up with me, but I didn’t slow down. “I need to study.” If I failed, everything I’d done so far would be pointless. My mother would die, Henry would lose his place as ruler of whatever it was that he did, and Ava’s death would have been for nothing. I wasn’t about to let that happen.
I spent the next two days with my nose buried so deeply in Greek mythology—or “history,” as everyone seemed to call it, and Irene made sure I knew it when a story really was just a myth—that even Henry left me alone at night. Instead of going to the dining room, my meals were brought to me, but I ate so quickly that it was tasteless. I slept for exactly eight hours and not a minute more, but even while I was sleeping my mother quizzed me on the material I studied. I memorized the twelve labors of Hercules, the names of the nine Muses, and the plagues released when Pandora opened her box, but there were still hundreds of other stories. King Midas, whose touch turned everything, including his daughter, into gold. Prometheus, who stole fire from the gods, gave it to the humans, and was punished for it. Icarus, who flew to escape his prison, only to fly so high the wax that held his wings together melted. Hera’s jealousy, Aphrodite’s beauty, Ares’s rage—it was never-ending, and I became so immersed in it that it all started to blend together, but I had to pass.
“You’re hurting yourself.”
I jumped when I heard Henry’s voice behind me. It was Sunday evening, less than twelve hours before I was due to take the exam, and I still had a few tricky chapters to review. If I didn’t use every last minute I had—and skip breakfast the next morning—I wasn’t going to make it.
“I’m fine,” I mumbled, sparing him only a glance before looking back at the massive book Irene had given me. I was trying to read about the Minotaur, but the words swam in front of me, and I had to squint to focus. My head was pounding and I felt sick to my stomach, but I had to do this.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would mistake you for one of the dead,” said Henry, his voice in my ear. I shut my eyes, not daring to move, not when he was so close. I could feel the heat radiating off his body, much warmer than the cool air of my room, and the desire to close the distance between us overwhelmed me. I shivered. Usually, when I wasn’t so tired, I was better at ignoring it. I was here for my mother, not for Henry.
Instead of Henry touching me, I heard pages rustle. When I looked, the book was closed and pushed to the side, and Henry sat across from me.
“If you do not know it by now, you will not learn it in time for your test.” His voice was gentle. “You need to sleep.”
“I can’t,” I said miserably. “I have to pass.”
“You will pass, I promise.”
I slumped in my seat. “What, can you predict the future now, too? You can’t promise me that. For all you know, I’ll fail so spectacularly that they’ll come halfway through the test and take me away. You might never see me again.”
He chuckled, and I huffed indignantly. “I have never seen anyone study so hard for a test as you have done this weekend. If you do not pass, then there is no hope for the rest of us.”
Before I could point out exactly how bad my luck was,
the door to my room burst open. Ava skipped inside, followed closely by Calliope and a man I didn’t recognize.
“Kate!” she said, bouncing over to me. I gave Henry an apologetic look, but he didn’t seem to mind. Instead he was watching the man, who was dressed in a black uniform and stared at the floor, as if he wanted to be anywhere but here.
“Ava, I’m supposed to be studying,” I said, but this didn’t deter her at all.
“C’mon, you’ve been studying all weekend. You have to come out to play sometime.” She stuck out her lower lip in a pout. “Everyone’s in the garden having fun. There’s music and swimming and all sorts of stuff. I still need to teach you how, you know.”
The prospect of being forced to swim was enough to put me off the whole idea, and I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to make it down there anyhow, let alone enjoy myself. The fact that it was a party pretty much guaranteed I wouldn’t. “I’m really tired,” I said, glancing between Ava and Calliope, who was lingering at the door and eyeing Henry.
“So what? You can sleep later,” said Ava. “You’re smart, you’ll pass. Besides, you have to meet Theo—”
“You two have not yet met?” Henry sounded surprised. He stood, beckoning for the man in the background to come forward. Theo moved crisply, and he had a look about him that made it clear he took himself very seriously. “Kate, this is Theo, my Master of the Guard. It is his job to keep an eye on everything that happens within the manor. Theo, this is Kate Winters.”
“A pleasure,” said Theo, dipping his head in a bow. I flashed him a tired smile and stuck out my hand. He shook it gingerly, as if he were afraid I’d break. His palm was smoother than mine.
“Nice to meet you, too,” I said. “Ava talks about you a lot.”
“I do not,” protested Ava. She looked at Theo and frowned. “I don’t.”
“She does,” I said, and Theo grinned. There was no resemblance between him and Ella at all, as far as I could see.
“C’mon, let’s go,” said Ava in a huff, tugging on his arm.
Sensing I’d wounded her pride, when she glanced back at me on her way out, I gave her an apologetic shrug. “I’ll come to the next one, promise.”
“Whatever,” she said, pulling Theo away. He managed a quick bow in Henry’s direction before exiting, leaving me alone with Henry and Calliope, who still lingered by the door.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she said, her cheeks bright red.
“Tomorrow,” I said, forcing a smile. I wasn’t fooling anyone. Even I could hear the nervousness in my voice.
Once Calliope was gone and the door closed, Henry stood and crossed the room to the large bay window. As he stared out into the inky night, he beckoned for me to join him.
“Henry, I can’t,” I said with a sigh. “I’ve got to study.”
“I will ask Irene not to quiz you on the last hundred pages,” said Henry. “Now come and sit with me. Please.”
“I don’t think she’ll agree to that,” I mumbled, but I did as he asked. My feet dragged against the carpet and my head felt too heavy for my body, but somehow I got to the other side of the room without collapsing.
Once I was there, he wrapped his arm securely around me, and another pleasant shiver ran down my spine. It was the most physical contact I’d had with him since arriving, and it was easy enough to lean against him, letting him support my weight.
“Look up,” he said, his arm tightening around my shoulders as I rested against him. I turned my head toward the ceiling, but in the candlelight, it was too dim for me to see. He chuckled. “No, the sky. Look at the stars.”
My face flushed with embarrassment, and I focused on the black sky through the window, just able to make out the pin-pricks of light. “They’re pretty.”
“They are,” he said. “Did you know they move?”
“Stars? Sure.” Was this part of a lesson, too? “You see different stars during different times of the year.”
He eased us both down onto the bench, so close that I was practically sitting on top of him, but being near him was much nicer than I wanted to admit. I wasn’t willing to give it up yet.
“Not through the seasons,” he said. “Through the millennia. See that star there?”
He pointed upward, and I could barely see the direction he was pointing in, let alone tell which one he was talking about. “Yeah.”
If he knew I was lying, he indulged me anyway. “When I met Persephone, that star wasn’t part of that constellation.”
“Really?” My oversaturated mind barely processed this information, let alone what it implied. “I didn’t think they did that.”
“Everything changes with time,” said Henry, his breath warm against my ear. “One must simply be patient.”
Yes, I thought, everything changed with time. That was the problem, wasn’t it?
But whatever Henry was trying to do to take my mind off the test worked. That night, instead of worrying about nymphs and heroes, my mother and I wandered through Central Park, visiting the zoo and riding the carousel round and round until we were both dizzy from laughter. I slept better than I had in days, and when I woke up, I was smiling.
The next morning I was too nervous to eat, but Calliope made me swallow a piece of toast covered in strawberry jam anyhow. Even that threatened to come up as I walked to the classroom, and it was through sheer willpower alone that I managed to keep it down.
I could do this. Henry was depending on me, and he would never let them purposely make me fail without giving me a fair shot. I’d studied, and this wasn’t rocket science. It was mythology. How hard could it be?
“Ready?” said Irene once I was seated.
“No,” I said flatly. I’d never be ready for this. Instead of showing me the tiniest bit of sympathy, she laughed and set the test down in front of me. A knot of horror caught in my throat when I flipped to the final question. Twenty pages.
“Two hundred questions,” she said, as if reading my mind. “You can only miss twenty.”
“How long do I have?” I choked.
“As long as you need.”
Her kind smile wasn’t the least bit reassuring. Summoning every last ounce of determination I had, I picked up my pencil and began.
Three hours later, I sat anxiously in the corner as Irene went through my exam. I’d gone through every question in my mind over and over again, constantly second-guessing my answers. What if I’d mixed up Athena and Artemis? Hera and Hestia? What if I’d studied too much and accidentally mixed up places and stories and the intricate timelines?
What if I’d failed?
Irene set down her pen, her face passive as she crossed the room and silently handed me the test. My hands shook so badly that I was afraid I’d drop it, and nothing in her expression gave away my score. I forced myself to look down. For a long moment, my eyes wouldn’t focus on the number scrawled on top.
173.
“I’m sorry,” she said, but I didn’t hear her. Instead I stumbled toward the door and out of the room, my vision too blurry for me to see where I was going. Flying past Calliope and Ella, I barely noticed them, instead dashing through the first door I saw and bursting into the garden. Ignoring the voices calling my name, I kicked off my shoes and ran toward the forest, the biting wind numbing my skin.
I’d failed.
CHAPTER 11
FAILURE
I couldn’t breathe.
My lungs burned and my body ached with the effort of running. I was in the middle of the forest now, though still within the confines of Henry’s property. The hedge walls were nowhere in sight, but those weren’t what I was looking for. I wanted to find the river.
Seven points below what I’d needed—seven questions that were the difference between success and failure, staying and leaving, life and death for my mother. Life and death for Henry. It didn’t matter how comfortable I was here or whether or not I liked being around him. If he’d just wanted someone to spend time with, he could’ve c
hosen anyone, but he’d chosen me—he depended on me—and now I’d failed him. The only reason I was here was to pass those tests, and I couldn’t even manage that much.
I don’t know how long it took me, sprinting through the woods. My feet were bleeding and bruised, and more than once I stumbled, hurting my ankles and elbows and knees, but still I pushed on.
I’d failed. It was over, and I wouldn’t have another shot.
I needed to see my mother before she died. I needed to tell her goodbye, even if she couldn’t hear me in that body anymore. It would have to do though—I’d broken my side of the bargain, and therefore Henry had no reason to uphold his. There was no guarantee I would see her if I fell asleep, and I needed to say goodbye before it was too late.
Finally I found it, the river where this whole mess had started. Limping on a twisted ankle, I followed it upstream until the opening in the hedge appeared. It seemed smaller than I remembered, and I had no idea how I was going to get to the other side, but I had to do this. I would apologize to Henry later.
Wiping my dirty, tear-stained cheeks with the back of my hand, I set my bare foot in the water and gasped. It was freezing. The current was strong, and I knew if I slipped, I wouldn’t be able to swim my way to safety. Not this time. Still, I had to try. One foot in front of the other, that’s all it took. “Kate.”