A shoulder rammed into mine, almost making me drop my tray. I whirled around, ready to snap at the person who’d run into me, but the words died on my lips.
Lance Fuller stood in front of me.
The Roman warrior was six feet tall, with broad, muscled shoulders. His eyes were an intense blue against his tan skin, and his wavy black hair gleamed like polished jet under the lights. In addition to his poster-boy looks, he radiated confidence, and with good reason. Lance Fuller was, quite simply, the guy at Mythos Academy—smart, rich, handsome, charming, popular. He was the guy all the other guys wished they could be and the one all the girls wanted to be with.
Including me.
I’d had a massive, massive crush on Lance ever since the first time I saw him walking across the quad last year. And to my amazement, he had seemed to like me too. We’d had a couple of classes together last year, and he was always volunteering to be my lab partner in chemistry or to work with me on other projects. He had even started asking what movies and music I liked, as though he was thinking about asking me out. But then all the bad stuff with my parents had happened, and my dreams of dating Lance had vanished like a cloud of smoke.
Lance realized that he’d run into me, and he actually smiled, revealing the two perfect dimples in his cheeks. “Hey, Rory. I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you standing there. How’s your first day back?”
It took me a moment to quit staring and answer him. “Um, fine. How are you?”
“Good.” His smile widened. “Really good now.”
My heart picked up speed and started pounding in my chest. Unlike all the other kids, Lance didn’t mock or berate me for what my parents had done. All last year, he had still waved at me whenever he saw me walking across the quad, and he had even talked to me a few times too. His kindness had made me like him that much more.
“Hey, Lance!” Kylie, a cute Valkyrie with sleek blond hair, called out. “Over here! We saved you a seat!”
But Lance kept staring at me, his face still crinkled in that adorable smile. “Maybe I’ll see you around this week.”
My heart beat even faster. “Sure, that would be great.”
Lance winked at me, then moved off to sit with his friends. I watched him go, wishing that I could join his table, but of course, Kylie shot daggers at me with her eyes, clearly telling me that I was not welcome. So I sighed and moved on, still searching for an empty seat.
And I finally found one—at the Viking’s table.
He was sitting at a table in the corner, and he wasn’t alone. A beautiful girl with perfect blond curls perched next to him, leaning in close so she could whisper to him and hang on to his every word in return. I snorted. Of course he had a girlfriend. Gorgeous guys like him always had a girlfriend. Sometimes two or three at once.
But theirs was the only table with an empty seat, so I headed in that direction. I didn’t even ask if I could sit with them. There was no point in it, since they would tell me no. So I marched over, plopped my tray down, and scooted the empty seat as far away from the two of them as I could get and still be sitting at the same table.
I dropped into the chair across from them, and they both practically jumped out of their seats. I had startled them out of what seemed to be a very private, very intense conversation. The Viking frowned, recognizing me from before, but the girl smiled and nodded at me. She had to be a new student, like the Viking was. No Mythos kid who knew anything about me or my parents would ever give me such a warm welcome.
“Hey,” she said. “What’s your name?”
I sighed, not wanting to make any sort of polite chitchat with them, but it would be totally rude not to answer her. “Rory.”
The girl smiled at me again. “Hi, Rory. I’m Amanda, and this is Ian.”
So that was the Viking’s name. I grunted in response, and so did he. Amanda looked back and forth between the two of us, wondering what was going on, but I didn’t say anything else, and neither did Ian.
I put my head down and reached for my tray. Instead of digging into my salad, chicken, and mashed potatoes, I grabbed my sundae, sank my spoon into the melting ice cream, and shoveled it into my mouth as fast as possible without choking or getting brain freeze. The sundae was delicious, a perfect mix of vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry, but I still wanted to eat it and leave as soon as I could.
Especially since the happy couple looked so cozy.
Ian leaned over and murmured in Amanda’s ear. Her blue gaze locked with mine, and her eyes widened with surprise. My heart sank. I knew that look. I had seen it a hundred times before. Ian had told her about my Reaper parents.
Amanda wet her lips, glanced away from me, and scooted her chair even closer to the Viking’s. I rolled my eyes. As if I was going to attack them in the middle of the dining hall in front of the entire school. Please. My parents might have been Reapers, but they weren’t stupid—and neither was I.
I thought they might start whispering about me, like some of the kids at the surrounding tables were doing, but the two of them ignored me. Like totally ignored me. They didn’t even look at me. Instead, Ian pulled out his phone and thumbed through some screens until he found the one he wanted. Then he and Amanda both bent over the phone, their heads close together, completely absorbed in whatever they were staring at.
For a moment, disappointment filled me. I had been looking forward to snarling some insults at the Viking, since he had gotten the better of me on the quad this morning, but I got over it. Being ignored was much better than being gossiped about, and besides, I still had more than half of my sundae left. So I tuned them out just like they had done to me and focused on my food again, eating much more slowly and taking the time to enjoy every single delicious bite of ice cream.
Sadly, it was the nicest, quietest lunch I’d had in the dining hall since before everyone learned the truth about my parents.
Chapter Three
Ian and Amanda were still staring at his phone when I finished my food, got to my feet, and grabbed my tray. I expected them to keep ignoring me, but Amanda looked up and waved at me.
“It was nice meeting you,” she called out in a warm voice.
“Yeah. You too.” My tone was far less genuine and much more surly than hers.
Ian opened his mouth like he was going to make some snarky remark and call me cupcake again, but I stared him down, and he apparently thought better of it. Chicken. I rolled my eyes, turned away, and left the dining hall.
But once again, the rest of my day didn’t get any better.
More classes, more homework, more kids gossiping about me.
Even gym class, my second-favorite class after myth-history, was a total bust. Coach Wanda, one of the few teachers who had always treated me fairly, even after the ugly revelations about my parents, had been replaced. Our new teacher was a man in his early thirties, with black hair, dark brown eyes, and a charcoal-gray tracksuit that highlighted his lean frame. A silver whistle hung around his neck, and a clipboard dangled from his hand.
“My name is Coach Takeda,” he said.
I eyed him, wondering what kind of warrior he was. Not a Roman or a Viking, since he didn’t seem to be either exceptionally quick or strong, but he gave off an air of quiet, controlled power. Probably a Samurai, given his perfectly straight posture and the way he was holding that clipboard like it was a sword that he was about to brandish at us.
Takeda stabbed his clipboard toward the far end of the gym, where a series of orange cones had been set up in elaborate patterns. “We’re going to start with some agility drills.”
“Agility drills?” I muttered to myself, since no one else would talk to me. “Really? What’s the point of that?”
I hadn’t spoken all that loudly, but of course Takeda heard me. He looked at me, his face perfectly calm and devoid of any emotion.
“Do you have a problem with agility drills, Miss…” He ran his finger down the sheet on his clipboard. “Forseti?”
I sighed, knowing
what was coming next. “No, sir.”
Takeda gave me a thin smile. “Good. Then you can run laps around the gym while the rest of us get started. Ten laps should be enough to stretch out your legs. Perhaps then you’ll look a little more fondly on my agility drills.”
Of course, all the other kids thought my punishment was absolutely hysterical, and they all started snickering. At least, until Takeda turned his gaze to them. He didn’t do or say anything, just kept staring at them with that same calm expression he’d given me, but it was plenty intimidating. One by one, all the other kids shut up, lest they be forced to run laps with me.
Takeda made a shooing motion with his hand. “If you would be so kind as to start running, Miss Forseti.”
I sighed again, but I had no choice but to shuffle forward and do as he commanded. Takeda was right. By the time I got done running all those laps, I wished I had kept my mouth shut and gone along with his stupid agility drills. They would have been far less tiring.
Gym was my last class of the day, but I was so sweaty from running laps that I ducked into the locker room and took a shower before changing back into my regular clothes. I texted Aunt Rachel and told her I was heading over to the library to grab a snack and get started on my homework. She texted me back, saying she was still working in the dining hall, prepping for tomorrow’s meals, and she’d see me at home later tonight.
I left the gym and walked across the quad to the Library of Antiquities, which soared five stories into the air, making it the tallest building on campus. The center section of the library was a large square tower, with three attached wings sticking out from it like the spokes on a wheel. Two stone gryphons perched on boulders on the sides of the main steps, and I stopped and nodded at each one of them.
I wanted to be polite, since I had seen what statues like these could do at the North Carolina academy, but looking at the gryphons also delayed my going inside the building for another moment. Thanks to my parents, the Library of Antiquities was something else I had a love-hate relationship with at the academy. So I focused on the gryphons and tried to ignore the hurt and loss stabbing through my heart and the sick dread churning in my stomach. The same emotions assaulted me every time I went into the library.
Just like the Fenrir wolf earlier, these two statues winked back at me, almost as if they could sense my turbulent feelings and were trying to comfort me. I nodded at them both again, then let out a long, tense breath and headed into the library.
I walked down a hallway and stepped through a set of open double doors into the main space. A wide aisle ran from the doors all the way over to a long checkout counter in the center of the library. Wooden study tables were clustered in the open spaces in front of and behind the counter, while a large silver coffee cart was parked off to the side. Shadow-filled stacks spread throughout the rest of the first floor, each tall shelf housing hundreds of books. Glass display cases also gleamed here and there among the aisles in the stacks.
The library had been chiseled out of the same lovely dark stone as all the other campus buildings, although in here, you could see the thick exposed logs that made up many of the walls and supports for the upper floors. Colorful rugs decorated with a variety of Native American symbols and gods, including Coyote Trickster, covered the floor, looking like runes that had been carved into the stone. Overhead, the ceilings of the three outer wings all flowed into the square ceiling of the center tower.
Gwen always claimed that frescoes were painted on the library ceilings, showing people, weapons, artifacts, and battles. But to me, the ceilings—especially the tower ceiling—looked like they were made of bright bits of stained glass that had been stitched together with silver thread. Sapphire-blue, emerald-green, ruby-red, opal-white, amethyst-purple. All the different jewel-toned colors and delicate shapes reminded me of the wildflowers at the Eir Ruins.
Before my parents died, I had loved to sneak off into the stacks, find a quiet spot, and lie down on the floor, using my messenger bag as a pillow so I could study the ceiling to my heart’s content. Sometimes, if I had stared at them long enough, the stained-glass shapes seemed to move, like a phantom breeze was blowing over the wildflowers and making their petals slowly sway back and forth. Watching the flowers had soothed and given me a sense of peace. I still thought the ceiling was beautiful, but my enjoyment of it had greatly diminished, given all the other dark, ugly things that had happened in here.
Besides the ceiling, the library’s other most impressive feature was the enormous stone fireplace that was close to the checkout counter. It was more than thirty feet wide and made of the same blackish boulders as the rest of the structure. Given that it was September, no flames crackled behind the tall iron grates, but it was still the busiest part of the library. Overstuffed chairs and couches flanked the freestanding fireplace, front and back, and every single seat was taken. Now that classes were over with, students had flocked here to catch up on all the juicy gossip, as if they hadn’t already been texting about it all day long.
I stood in the doorway, studying everything. I had always loved books and artifacts and history, and the Library of Antiquities was full of those things. The library used to be my favorite place on campus, and I had spent hours wandering the aisles, finding books to read, and examining the artifacts on display. There was always something new and wonderful to discover.
But now I was torn, just like I was about so many other things at the academy. On one hand, I still loved the library. The quiet stacks, the interesting artifacts, even the faint musty scent of paper that filled the air. But on the other hand, I hated the library for one simple reason.
My parents had been murdered here.
I stared at a spot in front of the checkout counter. That’s where Covington, the former head librarian, had stabbed my parents in the back, and that’s where they had been lying when I raced into the library that awful, awful day. I didn’t get vibes off objects, not like Gwen did with her psychometry magic, but the memories were so strong that they rose up in my mind and blotted out everything else.
In an instant, all I could see was my mom and dad crumpled on the floor, their eyes open wide with shock and pain. All I could hear was the faint whisper of their black Reaper cloaks fluttering back and forth in the air-conditioning, looking like death shrouds draped over their bodies. All I could smell was the coppery stench of their blood oozing across the floor, staining the stone a sickening scarlet…
A Roman guy hurried past me, and his backpack accidentally clipped my shoulder. The faint nudge snapped me out of my trance, and the images faded away, although not the pain they left behind.
Nothing ever took away that heartache.
These same memories haunted me every single time I set foot in here. And I wondered, like I always did, if I could really go over, sit down at a study table, open my books, and pretend everything was fine. That my parents hadn’t died a few feet away.
More hurt and loss stabbed through my heart, while more of that sick dread twisted my stomach. Not for the first time, I wanted to whirl around, run out the door, and never set foot in the library again, but I forced myself to take in slow, deep breaths and hold my ground. I couldn’t avoid the library, not even for a few days, given the massive amounts of homework my professors dished out on a weekly basis. Besides, Covington and my parents had already taken so much from me. They weren’t taking the library too. I wouldn’t let them take that too. So I pushed the memories back down to the bottom of my brain, squared my shoulders, and strode forward.
“What’s she doing here?” A snide voice caught my ear.
I glanced over at the fireplace, and I realized that all the other kids were staring at me again.
“Isn’t it bad enough that we have to sit through classes with her?” Kylie, the blond Valkyrie from lunch, continued. “Does she have to come to the library too?”
In an instant, everyone started whispering about me, and once again, I wanted to turn around, leave the library, and never
come back. But Spartans never ran away from a fight, not even one like this that I could never, ever win, so I gritted my teeth and walked down the center aisle, as though I didn’t hear any of the cruel taunts. Besides, I really did need to do some research and get started on my term-paper outline. I took pride in getting good grades, and I wasn’t going to flunk my first myth-history assignment of the semester because of some stupid gossip.
So I went over to one of the computer stations close to the checkout counter, typed in the titles of the books the professor had given us as starting points, and printed out their locations. But the other students had beaten me to them, and all the copies of the first few books on the list had already been checked out. Still, I trudged from one side of the library to the other, trying to find something that would help me. Every time I left the stacks and walked by the fireplace, a fresh round of whispers rippled through the groups of kids, but I ignored the harsh murmurs and marched on.
Since all the books on the first floor were already gone, I pushed through a door, climbed the stairs, and stepped out onto the second floor. Like all the other Libraries of Antiquities, the second floor featured a balcony that wrapped all the way around the library, boasting a pantheon of statues of the gods and goddesses of all the cultures of the world, everything from Greek to Norse to Egyptian and all the others in between.
Zeus, the ruler of the Greek gods, with his lightning bolt clutched in his hand. Odin, the ruler of the Norse gods, with his two ravens perched on his shoulders. Bastet, the Egyptian cat goddess, with her claw-tipped fingers. I moved past those deities and dozens more. Just like the stone gryphons outside, these statues also studied me, although none of them gave me a friendly wink or an encouraging smile. But I didn’t mind their silent scrutiny. At least I couldn’t hear their thoughts about me, whatever they might be.
Spartan Heart Page 3
