by Amy Hopkins
Penny turned back to him, her mind whirling. “No, I’m curious. Really. What made you come back? Were you forced over, or did you just...appear? Do you still have worshippers?” Despite the study they had done, so many aspects of the mythological invasion were unsure.
It was made worse by the variables—some Mythers appeared seemingly by chance. Others were summoned or, according to Crenel, forced through by other means.
“I have worshippers now, yes.” Bacchus didn’t seem to mind the question. In fact, his eyes lit up with a different kind of excitement than he’d shown as the statue. “Gerry here is one, and there are some weird, boring kids in black who have summoned me a few times. They were less fun. I haven’t quite disappeared from memory. Your movies, television shows…”
Bacchus’ face rippled into that of a slender man in a white coat wearing an outlandish green-feathered hat, then morphed back.
“I know that face,” Cisco whispered in Penny’s ear. “From a tv show. I don’t remember what it’s called—emo guy gets into magic school and doesn’t bang the gorgeous chick he should have.”
“Right,” Penny said unenthusiastically. She didn’t admit the particular show he was referencing was one of her all-time favorites. “How did it happen?” she asked Bacchus.
“How did what happen?” Bacchus asked smoothly.
“How did you cross the Veil?” Penny ignored Cisco’s tug on her elbow. “You know, how did you become real?”
“I was always real.” Bacchus smiled and held up a wineglass. He’d been empty-handed a minute before. “The questions you ask are not fit for a sober mind to understand. Drink with me. Drink, and I’ll tell you everything.”
“Not a chance,” Cisco snapped. “Penny, this isn’t safe!”
Boots rippled her scales, smoothly moving from Amelia’s shoulder to slither around Bacchus.
“Yes, it is,” Amelia giggled. “See? Even Boots trusts him. It’s fine. He won’t hurt her.” She leaned closer to Cisco. “Aren’t you curious?”
Cisco struggled with the question for a minute. “Fine. Yes, I am. But not if it’s going to cost a quart of my blood, or a YouTube video of me,” he glanced around and spied a girl dancing drunkenly with the refrigerator, “doing that.”
“You question the sanctity of my entertainment?” Bacchus asked. His face softened, and he lifted a shoulder. “You are wiser than most. I wouldn’t trust me, even though I’m entirely trustworthy.” Perfect teeth sparkled in a bright grin.
Penny grabbed the wine from his hand. Here goes nothing. She downed it in the space of a breath, barely giving herself time to savor the incredibly smooth sweetness of the godly drink.
She closed her eyes a minute as the magically-imbued alcohol flowed through her veins. Her muscles softened, her anxiety eased, and her head felt a little floaty. “I feel good,” she admitted. She opened her eyes, then narrowed them suspiciously. “And not at all like taking my clothes off.”
Bacchus smiled. “There was a time when imbibing the drink of the gods was more congruent to the meeting of higher minds, of elevating understanding. It was only later that…” He glanced at the girl Cisco had pointed to. She leaned in to kiss the refrigerator. “Well, that it became that.” He shrugged. “Both are fun, at the appropriate time, but I do miss the older times.”
He plucked the wineglass from Penny’s limp hand and passed it to Cisco. She knew it would be full before her friend took it from the mysterious god, but somehow missed how it happened. It was empty, then it was full. There was no in-between, no moment of transition.
The small group retired to a quiet room, Bacchus stopping to deeply kiss a trio of drunken dancers on the way. Two of the humans started making out while the other watched, entranced.
The god caught Penny’s glance. “The third didn’t wish to participate. I don’t coerce the unwilling, just encourage those who desire it.”
That eased a little of Penny’s worry, although if she were honest, there was very little left to begin with. Her head buzzed pleasantly, and in the quiet, dark room she heard her own thoughts as they mulled the possibilities that had brought the god to her world.
Bacchus flopped down on an overstuffed yoga cushion and drew a large, shallow bowl from behind him. “For you.” He sat it on the ground, and Boots slithered in. “Spiced wine, my Dreamtime friend?”
The serpent rolled and twisted happily as he poured a steaming mix into the bowl, the wine dribbling from his hand despite the absence of a vessel. Boots cavorted as Penny watched. She’d never seen the snake so happy, and wondered how much of it was the wine, and how much was simply the presence of someone like him.
A warm glass was pressed into Penny’s hand, and she looked down in surprise. “Try it,” Bacchus insisted. “You’ll like it, I promise.”
Penny sipped, letting the nutmeg and clove roll over her tongue. Something in the brew had a little kick, not spicy enough to burn her mouth, but with the heat to make her throat tingle.
Warmth lapped at her skin, washing over her in waves.
“I will tell you a story,” Bacchus said. “But it is a long one. It begins a very long time ago…”
Penny awoke in a cloud of pillows. Lifting her head, she saw she’d fallen asleep on the couch, but someone had tucked her in with cushions and a soft blanket. When she stretched, her toes bumped flesh. She lifted her head to see Amelia stir restlessly.
Relaxing back into her cocoon, Penny stretched her mind back to the night before. Even the memory of Bacchus’s wine made her feel warm, and she closed her eyes, drifting comfortably. As he’d promised, she felt no hint of a hangover. That deal was totally worth it.
Her eyes flew open. “Our deal,” she murmured. Wide awake now, she searched her memories of the evening.
The wine on her tongue, Boots’ glee, Bacchus’s soft hands rubbing her feet as he talked. It all held perfect clarity.
“Amelia?” Penny snapped. “Cisco!”
Cisco grunted and rolled over in his nest of blankets on the floor. “Huh?”
“Cisco, what did Bacchus tell us last night?” Penny nudged Amelia again with her toe. “Amelia, do you remember?”
“What? No, I’m too tired. I don’t remember.” Amelia yawned but sat up, rubbing her eyes.
“Cisco?” Penny pressed. “Do you remember?”
“Yeah, sure. He said that when the old Greeks...um. When they…” His face creased in concern.
“Oh, that sly fucker,” Penny cursed. “He cheated!”
She felt the echo of laughter run along her senses. She looked around but saw nothing. A moment later, any hint of another presence had vanished.
Penny groaned and leaned back, snuggling into her pillow. “That was the perfect opportunity, and we blew it.”
Amelia squeezed Penny’s foot. “No, I don’t think so. He obviously doesn’t want us to know, so he wouldn’t have told us anyway.”
“Seems a bit unfair,” Cisco said. “I feel pretty good, though, considering.”
“Me too,” Penny admitted. “Do you remember how much we drank?” She didn’t have a perfect idea—every time she’d sipped from her glass, it had been full—but she knew it was a lot. “I should be puking in the gutter about now.”
“Me too,” Amelia admitted. “I can’t even feel that bottle of tequila I had before the party got hectic.”
Penny’s jaw dropped. “You drank a whole bottle?”
Amelia giggled. “Yeah. Gerry promised I wouldn’t feel it this morning. He was right!”
Penny snuggled deeper into the warmth of the blankets. She could hear people stirring outside over the whir of a coffee grinder. “Mmmm. Coffee.”
“Time to get up?” Cisco asked. He looked like he had no intention of moving.
Penny rolled off the couch, blankets tangled around her legs. “As appealing as it would be to sleep all day, that coffee smells amazing.” She reached for the door, cut short by a soft thump on the back of her head.
Amelia smiled sweetl
y, a second pillow held up ready to throw. “You were offering to bring one back for me, right?”
“Sure.” Penny sighed. “Cisco?”
The blanket over his head nodded.
In the kitchen, Gerry was playing the part of the gracious host. He darted back and forth behind the expensive coffee machine, frothing milk and pouring shots. Penny held up three fingers and when he nodded, slid onto a barstool and waited.
“You’re new in town, right?” Gerry asked as he poured the first coffee. He’d dropped the dramatic persona from the previous night, making his pink hair seem incongruous with his flannel pajamas.
Penny nodded. “I’ve been here a while now.”
“How do you like the good old Land of the Free?” He flicked the milk jug to make a delicate fern pattern, then slid it over to her.
Penny wrapped her hands around it, savoring the warmth and aroma. “It’s good. I miss home, though.”
“What’s it like in the land of drop bears and crocodile men?” Gerry poured ground coffee into the machine, then realized he didn’t have enough.
Penny waited for the whine of the grinder to stop before answering. “Hot. Like, so hot, you can feel your skin fry when you step outside. The smell is different. It smells clean and sharp, even though you’re covered in red dust all the time.”
“Sounds...hot and dirty,” Gerry said. He grinned to take any sting out of his words. “I hear the beaches are good.”
“We have some nice ones,” Penny admitted. “But the best ones are the beaches no one else knows about. You need a four-wheel-drive to get to those, and you can stay for days and not see a soul.”
“Coming to a place like Portland must be a huge change,” he said, passing her a second coffee.
“It’s...different.” Penny blew across the top of her cup and took a sip. “I mean, Sydney has more people, so it’s not so much that… It’s just weird to be in a place where everyone has an accent.”
“Hey, you’re the one with the accent.” Gerry winked. “This one’s nearly done.”
“I guess that’s true,” Penny thought about it. “You know what, maybe that’s part of it. Back home, I’m just Penny. Here, I’m the weird girl with the accent.”
“And the magic snake,” Gerry pointed out.
“And the snake,” Penny agreed. “Most of the people back home are too old and stubborn to see her. I think she likes it here, she gets more attention.”
“Does she, um, need breakfast?” Worry crossed Gerry’s face, quickly clearing when Penny shook her head.
“She only eats for fun.” She took the third coffee from him, carefully balancing two in one hand while she sipped from her own. “Thanks, mate. For the invite last night, and for the coffee.”
“Any time.” Gerry’s grin was genuine.
Chapter Fourteen
Penny stretched in bed, yawning before tapping her alarm. It kept screaming, so she hit it again, clumsily shoving it off the desk and yanking the power cord from the wall. At least that shut it up, she thought.
After a quick mid-semester break, classes had returned with a new schedule, one that was more intense than the previous timetable.
With a start, she remembered why the alarm was blaring. “Shit. Classes are on today.” She tossed a pillow at Amelia’s bed.
“I’m awake, dammit.” The blanket muffling Amelia’s voice suggested that hadn’t been the case for long. “How much trouble do you think we’ll get into if we skip first class?”
“With Madera? Too much.” Penny rolled to her feet and started tying her hair up without bothering to brush it. She rifled through the pile of clothes on the floor for a clean top, finally finding one under Amelia’s bed. “Wow. How did our room get so messy?”
“Vacation. You don’t clean on vacation.” Amelia dropped an arm out from under her blanket to pick up the pair of jeans she'd discarded the night before. “We’ll fix it on the weekend.” The blanket wriggled as she pulled them on beneath it.
“It was only a week! Besides, you didn’t go on vacation,” Penny pointed out. Amelia hadn’t admitted it, but Penny suspected she had changed her plans and stayed at school after finding out Penny would be knocking around the Academy by herself.
Fortunately, it hadn’t just been the two of them. Cisco hadn’t left either, the Academy being home to his mother. Red had also hung around for all but a weekend, flirting with Amelia and occasionally disappearing with her until the early hours of the morning.
“Exactly.” Amelia stood and shook out her hair, then grabbed a makeup case and sat cross-legged on her bed. “If I wasn’t here, I wouldn’t have made a mess.”
“Fair point.”
Boots slithered out from under Penny’s pajamas, flicking them onto the floor with an irritated hiss.
“Oh. Sorry, Boots.” Penny reached down and offered her hand for the snake to nuzzle.
“Two sessions with Madera in a row.” Amelia groaned. “Don’t get me wrong. I love Mama Cisco, but she makes us work.”
“Did you notice the defense lesson is in the morning?” Penny asked. “I bet that’s so Professor Craster can make sure Jones hasn’t killed anyone during class.”
“Not that it will do any good.” Amelia paused to apply lipstick. “I bet Jones hates us for ratting him out.”
“He passed me,” Penny pointed out.
“You passed. The dean probably gave you the grade herself while she hung old Jones up by his toenails for what he did to you.” Amelia kissed the air, then smiled widely into her mirror.
“Is that a new color?” Penny asked.
Amelia turned her grin on her friend. “Why, yes, it is. Not that Red noticed yesterday when I left it all over his...um. Well, he didn’t notice anyway.” She threw the tube to Penny, who caught it with one hand. “It’s the new one from Ferocious Beauty.”
“Candy Bomb,” Penny read off the bottom before tossing it back. “It suits you.” She shoved her books into her bag.
Though she’d enjoyed the break, she honestly couldn’t complain about going back to class—not even to a double period of Introductory Myth and Legend.
The short reprieve had driven home how much fun she was having in class. Even that bastard Jones couldn’t curb her enthusiasm.
“Come on.” She clung her backpack on her shoulder. “You coming, Boots?”
Boots emerged from Penny’s makeup kit, her tiny serpentine face somehow looking guilty.
“Nah, Princess Boots wants a makeover!” Amelia leaned down to touch her nose to the snake’s. “You’re perfect just the way you are, sweetheart. No makeup can match those gorgeous colors of yours!”
Boots rubbed her head on Amelia’s chin, coming away with a tan smudge between her wide-set eyes. Amelia giggled and wiped it off.
“My snake is better at being a girl than I am.” Penny sighed. She glanced down at her old jeans and basic t-shirt.
“You’re perfect, too.” Amelia laughed. “Really! Cisco wouldn’t have the patience for someone as precious as me. I’m way too high maintenance. You do you, babe.”
Penny couldn’t hide her grin. Most of her girlfriends back home had pushed Penny to be more feminine, something she’d resisted as much as possible. “You know you’re the best friend I’ve ever had?”
Sure, Amelia had taken her shopping and encouraged her to dress up for special occasions, but she’d quickly realized Penny was comfortable as she was. Rather than give up the fight, their trips to the mall now involved Amelia hunting out practical outfits and utilitarian shoes for her friend.
Amelia just rolled her eyes. “You won’t think that when you realize I’ve made you late for class.”
Penny flicked a glance at her watch, yelped, and raced out of the room, Amelia’s laughter ringing behind her.
Professor Madera opened the lesson by handing out the end-of-semester assignment. “This semester we have two six-thousand-word dissertations. One on the theory of the appearance of the Mythers, and another on the potential w
orldwide ramifications if it continues unchecked.”
Penny scanned the front page as Madera explained the requirements.
“Each piece will account for twenty-two percent of your final grade. The remainder will be made up during the written exam, same as last time.”
A smattering of groans ran through the students as she passed, dropping the papers on each desk.
Madera paused and swept her gaze over them. “Some of you may believe this to be an uninteresting class. There is no playing with magical trinkets, beating each other with swords, or hunting monsters. However, the knowledge you gain will give you the edge you need to turn this invasion into a new age, one where humans and our guests from beyond the veil can live in safety and harmony.”
“Or at least not get us killed,” Clive muttered, his voice just reaching Penny’s ears.
Madera gave him a knowing smile. “I’m glad you agree, Clive.”
Assignments set, Professor Madera spent the rest of the class guiding the students through developing their premises, as well as introducing them to the content that would be covered in the exams.
“If any student has difficulties, I expect you to see me for help,” Madera called as the students swarmed out of the room at the end of class. “You know where to find me!”
When they arrived at Items Acquisitions class, Professor Marcus apologized for not having their assignment briefings ready. “I still have a few more things to work out,” she explained. “But the class will be working in groups, so now would be a good time to start thinking about your options.”
Once they were settled, Professor Marcus pulled a white screen down and flicked on a projector. A newspaper headline was illuminated, though most of the article was cut off.
Excalibur Found Again. New King Crowned In Britain.
“The spate of Excaliburs that began with the first parting of the Veil has increased three-fold this year,” Marcus began. “The British government is fielding claim after claim to the throne.”
“Who was crowned?” Mara asked. “Why would they crown someone? That’s just stupid!”
