Cursed Academy (Year Three) Read online

  "Oh, I had some headaches, but not bad," Maria said, tapping her forehead. She turned to the door, closing the conversation.

  We walked to the dining hall in silence. A few people had gathered inside and started into breakfast, and the first years were already dressed in purple. There were only a dozen of them this year. Fingers tapped and butts shifted. They were so young-looking. Fifteen and sixteen year olds. Still innocent.

  I'd been in their position just two years ago.

  Now I was halfway to the end.

  “Giselle.” A girl in a green robe paraded to me, and I didn't recognize her at first. Black hair, pulled into a ponytail. Golden lipstick. Then I realized. Wendy. But she never wore golden lipstick.

  And no one was behind her.

  “Hey,” I said with a wave. “Remember anything else since the end of last year?” I read Wendy's face for any sign of returning memory, good or bad. All summer, I'd felt bad that the River Lethe had erased most of her life, even if it was temporary.

  “I think things are slowly coming back,” Wendy said, eyes searching the cafeteria. “Wow, you were right about my parents being tough. At least they're gone doing funeral director stuff a lot. Meetings. All that. I remembered some stuff from childhood over the summer." She shook her head. "Never mind. I don't want to talk about that.” She whirled and lowered her voice. “Hopefully nothing much returns, to be honest.”

  I gulped.

  “We're still working on a transfer to Olympian,” Maria whispered, breaking the awkward silence. “Did you hear about the one on one meetings?”

  “Yeah. They've got our grades from exams last year,” Mikey said.

  Yikes. Just meeting with the teachers was terrifying enough.

  Wendy cleared her throat. “I heard about it. Oh, and I found out my mom talks to Serena's mom. And yes, they have Serena be their little spy to keep me on the right path. I really hope my old self saw this.”

  I thought back to the scene at the mall, where Wendy refused to talk to me until she was alone. “I think you did.”

  “Good.” Wendy sighed in relief. “I'm not a complete moron, then.”

  “I bet you're still top of the class,” I said, realizing with a kick to a gut I'd never seen my grades from last year. I hoped Max pulled some strings to give me a Combat Training grade.

  We grabbed breakfast, though Wendy, who would be under the watchful eye of Serena soon, sat alone four seats from us at the third years' table. None of us third years had our robes yet, and neither did the fourth years, who now filled the table behind us and closest to the door. I wondered if they'd give those to us one by one. And if mine would be cursed.

  I watched Serena walk in beside Percival, and she rushed over and slapped Wendy on the back like an old friend. Mikey pretended to gag. And just after those two sat down, one on either side of Wendy, Prometheus entered the dining hall.

  Like all immortals, his presence was not to be missed. The air heated slightly, silencing all chatter. Magical energy made my skin prickle. All heads turned to face the principal, and he'd brought Max, Natalia, and a few other instructors with him. I recognized Mrs. Challis, the Strategy teacher and another descendant of Ares. Mrs. Allenson had also come with them, and the two men in white togas I didn't recognize. For the first time, I realized we had no teachers who had graduated from Cursed Academy. All came from Olympian.

  Prometheus clapped, erupting fire around his palms. The orange glow reflected off his spectacles and his rumpled black suit. Smoke rose and some of the first years gasped.

  “Greetings!” he said. “We are running a bit late with the beginning of the year and I apologize. Welcome, first years! And for the rest of you, welcome back! I see a few of you fourth years have reached maturity over the summer.” With a friendly, but sympathetic nod, Prometheus eyed the table beside us.

  A new centaur, a guy who now had the bottom half of a gray, spotted horse, shifted to the back of the table while a girl with newly thick eyebrows eyed her tray. And a tall guy, though he didn't look any different, shifted in his seat. Then I recognized him, too. Ted. Maria's boyfriend.

  “Ted?” she mouthed.

  He met her gaze and bit his lip like he had something to tell her.

  I leaned close to Maria and lowered my voice to a whisper. “He looks fine.” But my heart raced. We were one table away from the fourth years. One table away from where the marble statue of Medusa glared down, along with the marble statue of a Siren and several statues of wolves. I hadn't noticed the meaning behind the statue arrangement in the dining hall before. Those lining the first years' side of the room looked like human warrior men and women, though mostly minus clothes. And the closer you got to the fourth years' side of the hall, the more monstrous the statues became. It was artistic symbolism I should have seen.

  “Many of you fourth years will mature this year,” Prometheus continued. “This is the year to prepare for life beyond Cursed Academy and for the rest of your lives. With work, you may find brighter futures than you expect waiting for you.”

  I gulped.

  Maria's father hadn't. He'd wound up with one eye, pouring coffee for bitchy god descendant women at the local power plant. And he probably got fired because of me sneaking in Zeus's office. None of the fourth years clapped. They knew the truth.

  And Carmen's words came back to me like a fly buzzing around my head.

  Leave me alone, I thought. The system sucked, but who else would hire monsters? They had to work with those they couldn't hurt. It was nobody's fault the Awakening had fired up ancient genes in some of humanity.

  “Myself and your instructors have planned a good, career-oriented year for you third and fourth years. First and second years will experience a normal year,” the titan continued. His gaze fell on me for a second. “Many of you will discover and individualized program waiting for you. Third and fourth years, please consult the meeting schedule outside of my office after breakfast. We look forward to talking."

  Chapter Four

  I was to go last when it came to the one on one meetings. No pressure. I wondered if it was some terror tactic to get me nervous before I went into the conference room, which was in the new Building C.

  People stood outside the building, on the gravel, held out by the rent-a-guards, and those third and fourth years who went inside came out with class schedules and plastic bags that held green and black robes. That sent a shudder up my spine. But if my schedule was cursed, I could hold it back with the herb, right?

  The small crowd of people dwindled as I paced beside Maria and Mikey. I tried to read faces for reactions, but nobody offered me anything, not even Ted, who motioned for Maria to follow him once they'd both gone and gotten their schedules. That left me and Mikey.

  And Mikey went inside before me, leaving me alone. "Good luck," I told him.

  He emerged fifteen minutes later, holding his own folder and his green, packaged robe. Mikey offered a smile. “A bunch of your teachers talk to you and that's it. Saw a few new staff members in there, but nobody stuck out to me.”

  “We're talking about me,” I said. “I'm in trouble.”

  “I'll stay out here and wait for you.”

  Mildly comforting. With a nod, I walked to the door.

  This was my first time in Building C, even though it had been built last year. The guards hadn't let in second and first years so we never got the chance to explore. That forbidden feeling lingered when I walked between the black marble pillars, opened the wooden double doors, and stepped inside.

  The inside of the Career Center consisted of a wide hallway, also lined with dark pillars and classroom doors, and electric lighting on each pillar that was actually pretty cool. But then a shudder raced over me as a guard standing off to the side, this one a man, nodded in the direction of more double doors at the end of the corridor.

  Gulp.

  I progressed down the hall and the door on the left opened for me as I approached.

  “Giselle.” Prom
etheus offered a warm smile as the air heated, but there was no joy in it. Was it determination? Desperation? “Come on in.”

  You did not say no to an immortal. He held the door open and I found myself facing an oval, glass meeting table with dark swirls throughout. The room was almost movie-theater dim and I blinked as I stepped inside. Dark figures sat around the table. I tried to swallow over a lump in my throat. My body had long abandoned producing spit.

  Prometheus closed the door behind me and my pulse hammered in my ears. “Sit.”

  Then my eyes adjusted. Max offered a serious nod on the other side of me. Beside him sat Mrs. Allenson, stern and warrior-like as ever. But to the left of Max sat a guy I'd never seen before: a dark-haired, muscular young man with golden-flecked eyes. Unlike the two Olympian graduates in front of me, this guy wore a silken black robe with golden trim around his sleeves. He couldn't be more than twenty, barely out of Cursed Academy himself. He was a former Cursed student, right? The air around him felt dark.

  I sat, confused. Our gazes met. The guy nodded, flooding my cheeks with heat. While Ronin was muscular and just plain hero-ish, this newcomer was thin in what Carmen would call an elvish-type of way. I wondered which god or goddess he was descended from.

  Or if he would be one of my instructors.

  Sweat gathered around my shirt collar.

  “Are we ready to begin?” Mrs. Allenson asked.

  “Yes.” The titan took the end of the table, as expected. “Giselle, first of all, as you were unable to complete your Combat Training exam last year, we had to give you an incomplete grade.”

  “I understand.” My pulse rose into my throat.

  “Therefore, we've decided on a special tutoring program to catch you up and ensure you're progressing as expected.” Prometheus's words fell like a hammer. Now I understood why the elvish guy was here. Why did he look familiar?

  Don't tell me it's with him. Ronin will freak.

  “Special tutoring? Like I'm remedial?” I blurted.

  “Of course not.” Prometheus offered a nervous laugh. “It wasn't fair what happened to you last year. Wendy was too eager to stay at the top of the class, I'm afraid.”

  I let out a breath, feeling an urge to defend her. “Well, the golem was pretty beat up by the time she got to it. Maybe she could have gone first? And can't I just retake the exam?”

  Then the green flecks in the titan's eyes deepened with seriousness. “I saw little to no progress in your development last year. Something is holding you back and we need to figure out what that is.”

  Oh.

  Of course something was holding me back and that was Ronin. Plus my fake dagger, which Ronin had bought me. And now my real Chaos Dagger was gone, but Prometheus didn't know that.

  “Giselle was making excellent attempts last year,” Max said.

  I jumped. Max didn't offer compliments often, let alone fake ones. But he didn't want to see me mature into a destruction goddess any more than I did.

  “Therefore, she may need extra help. Other barriers besides effort may exist,” Prometheus told him, and I didn't miss his slightly condescending manner. “Giselle, we've created your schedule for your third year. Divine History Three at nine AM. Then Advanced Magical Study with Natalia at ten thirty. Lunch as usual. Combat Training at one, and Career Exploration at three. And after dinner, one on one Combat Tutoring.”

  “Okay,” I blurted. Tutoring? After school? That was when Ronin and I got together and trained over at Olympian.

  Prometheus was foiling us. He'd figured out what we were doing.

  And perhaps, trying to foil us in more ways than one.

  “I'm Celestus,” the dark elvish guy said, rising. He extended his hand, ready to shake mine. Why did he have to have a voice as deep as the universe and as smooth as obsidian? “I am a descendant of Nyx. I'll be your Combat Training tutor for your third year. It's a pleasure to meet you.”

  My skin prickled under everyone's stare. I knew what I had to do.

  I stood and took his hand, and when I blinked, stars and darkness took up the field behind my eyelids. Like every god descendant, Celestus had a magical touch.

  After what felt like eternity, he let go.

  Expressionless, he faced me and slowly dropped his hand to the table. “I'm a dark magic consultant working for Apollo, tasked to educate his employees about tactics the Lower Order might use against them. You might have met my sister. Serena. She's also a third year.” Celestus offered a super professional smile. He looked like a commercial.

  Oh.

  This was bad.

  “I might have seen her around,” I blurted, barely able to breathe. This was beyond bad, and the fact that Celestus was indisputably hot was going to make this a very, very tough year.

  * * * * *

  Even though Prometheus hadn't said whether Ronin would be part time Combat Training instructor this year, I knew the answer. The next day was Tuesday, Ronin's normal day to help out, and he didn't appear in the breakfast line to grab his tray. I didn't spot him at lunch, either, and that got my gut rolling. Combat Training was right after lunch this year and if Ronin wasn't here by now, he never would be.

  “I don't like this,” I said to Maria at lunch. “I don't like any of this. And did you see Celestus? Is he tutoring anyone but me?”

  “You mean the guy in the black robe who looks like a wizard?” Mikey asked. “I've seen him hanging around Building C. Rumor has it he helps teach Career Exploration. And we all have that class at three."

  “He's Serena's brother,” I half-groaned, letting my head fall to the table.

  Maria swore, then seemed to collect herself. “Well, he's not necessarily like Serena. I haven't seen her and him talking. Maybe this won't be so bad. From what I've seen, at least he's eye candy.” Maria looked for Ted, who had promised to sit with us today and tell us about his summer. “Don't tell Ted I said that. I'd never cheat on him.”

  “But he's dark. We all know how this is going to work with my powers.”

  My worry list was now ten pages long. I didn't have Natalia for any classes this year. She was only teaching Magical Meditation and Exploratory Arts to first and second years. Instead, I had a new instructor for Advanced Magic: Mrs. Ershaw, who, ironically enough, was a descendant of Hecate and paraded around in a black robe. I hadn't been able to read her much today.

  Teddy arrived at our table, now decked out in a fourth year black robe, and hesitated before hugging Maria and planting a kiss on her temple. When she didn't resist, he sat beside her, drawing a few stares from our fellow green-robed third years.

  “So, tell them,” Maria said.

  Teddy was still long and awkward, despite having a thin, reddish beard now. But over the summer, he seemed to have worked out. “Lion shifter,” he said. “Not so bad. It hurt to mature, and it's always going to hurt to shift, but to be honest, I'm relieved. Nobody has to know my secret and I can probably get a regular job if I lie on my applications.”

  “Why do you want a regular job?” Mikey asked. "Being a lion shifter is badass."

  “Because regular jobs can pay better? Let's see. I can be a low-level guard or a grunt doing manual labor for one of the gods' companies. Aphrodite's companies always need guys to carry heavy stuff and set up fashion catwalks. Yeah, I'd love to show off someday, but not to those harpies. They let you know they're too good for you. At least you and Cal have something going."

  “So you have pride,” Mikey said. “I am going into music. I don't care what Career Exploration tells me I should do. Maria, you can be the manager for Cal and I. You've got the skill. And I'm serious.”

  “How's the album doing?” I asked, feeling bad for not asking the second I arrived.

  Mikey offered a wink. “Great. We've got a couple small record companies asking about us, but Cal wants to go bigger. He thinks if we stick it out we can get a deal that'll guarantee us independence."

  “Cal's worried about independence?” Maria asked. “He's going to do w
ell no matter what.” A hint of green envy dripped from her words.

  “Stick with us and you will, too. We need a freaking manager,” Mikey said. “And you'll boss us around enough to get us somewhere. Don't let them make you a servant.”

  I gulped.

  “That's probably what my father ended up doing, wherever he is.” Maria stabbed her carrots.

  I swallowed, sweat breaking out over my body. She was right and I still had to keep my promise to Elliot not to tell Maria about his fate. It felt wrong to tell her, to confirm her worst fears. But I couldn't stay silent. “I think your father would love it if you went into something cool like that.”

  Maria forced down a bite. “None of us know him.”

  “True,” Mikey said. “Yeah, he left when he matured, but it sounds like he was just trying to shield you.”

  “Or he felt guilty for passing his genes to another person.” Maria grabbed her tray, food half-eaten.

  Maria tossed her food. This was always a hard topic for her. At least she had parents. Mikey, too. I was the odd one out. My only parent was a terrifying, swirling dark force. The thought turned my heart into a heavy boulder. Yeah, I was feeling sorry for myself when everyone sitting here had problems of their own.

  And then Ronin wasn't at Combat Training. More fears confirmed.

  Max stood there, standing with his usual military posture, but even without Ronin, I was glad to see him. At least he'd given me an incomplete grade rather than a one, the worst possible grade, at the end of last year. Max was tough, but as I was finding out, fair.

  “Third years! Line up!” he barked as a green line formed in front of him. “You know how Combat Training works. Unfortunately, we've had a change this year and Ronin will no longer be joining you on Tuesdays and Thursdays." The cords on Max's neck bulged as he spoke.

  My heart dropped to my shoes. This meant not only less time seeing Ronin, but a greater chance of me using my dark powers here in Combat Training. Ronin, though he once brought out that dark power, had learned how to bring out the lighter side of my magic instead. And he was one of the few who could.