by Amy Hopkins
Crenel gave a quick explanation of Tobias’s cult. He glossed over details of the Eastern group Tobias had met with, simply calling it a “work in progress” and saying that any real information was classified.
“That’s two groups,” Jason said. “How many are there?”
Crenel lifted his hands. “You tell me. The organizations we’ve come across so far number in the hundreds. They range from highly organized terrorist cells to the more commonly found groups of casual Wiccans dancing around a fire. We’ve seen high school students, lawyers, grandmothers, and even some of our own.”
“The FBI is summoning monsters?” Mara sounded shocked.
Crenel waggled his hand. “Not successfully, and not necessarily monsters. Many of the groups trying to pull entities through the veil are simply looking to strengthen their religion or just have some fun. Which isn’t to say it isn’t dangerous, but their intent isn’t to harm anyone.”
“Is it legal?” Cisco asked.
Crenel raised his hands. “For the most part. If we can’t get them on a charge based on intent to disrupt the peace or deliberately cause harm to others, then our hands are basically tied. Lawmakers are scrambling to deal with it, but finding a solution that’s broad enough to cover all reasonable possibilities—and that doesn’t infringe on people’s basic rights—is harder than it looks.”
“That’s what we’ll be dealing with when we graduate?” Clive tapped his desk impatiently. “Teenagers and soccer moms trying to conjure house fairies?”
“In some cases,” Crenel admitted. “But there is a lot of dangerous stuff out there and not enough people to deal with it yet. Depending on your chosen career paths, many of you will face danger. You will be put into positions where you must risk your lives to save others. And for some of you, it may not wait until graduation.”
Penny met the agent’s eyes and shivered. She knew that she and Cisco could be called up for a mission at any time since both had chosen the fieldwork career path.
Crenel quickly wrapped up his briefing, telling the students he would be a frequent presence at the Academy to make sure the dean was kept up to date with the latest developments. He passed the class back over to Professor Madera.
“Well, students.” Madera pressed her mouth into a thin line. “Let us hope that the next years pass quickly for us, and slowly for everyone else. We will need as much of a head start as we can get. Now, please open your books to page three-hundred and sixty-five.”
Sweat dripped down Penny’s nose and dropped to the floor. She grunted, shoving herself back up on aching arms.
“Backs straight!” Professor Glass barked. “Mara, out. Eighty-eight. Eighty-nine. Red, you’re out. One hundred and Ninety.”
Penny’s shaking arms collapsed, and she hit the floor. Glass barked her name, and she scrambled to her feet and took her position against the wall, watching the final students on the floor. Jason was called next. He’d managed two hundred and twenty push-ups before he collapsed.
Cisco lifted his head just long enough to see Clive was still going beside him. Both of them were shirtless, biceps and backs rippling as they dipped and rose.
Penny, however, only had eyes for one. She didn’t look away even when Amelia nudged her.
“Hot in here, isn’t it Penny?” she teased.
“Amelia, you didn’t even make it to triple digits,” Penny pointed out. “You’ve had plenty of time to cool off.”
Cisco was up to two hundred and forty-one. His arms had begun to tremble, and sweat ran down his back and face. Somehow, he still had the energy to glance at Penny and wink.
“Forty-two. Clive, out,” Glass barked. “Two-forty-three.”
Cisco dipped again, hesitated, then pushed back up with an audible groan. On his two hundred and forty-fifth, he dipped too low, and his forehead touched the floor.
“Done!” The eagle-eyed Glass had seen the contact. He tossed Cisco a towel and a bottle of water. “I guess that was an acceptable effort.” He slid his eyes to Amelia. “For some of you.”
“Good effort, bro.” Clive clapped Cisco’s shoulder. “I’ll get you next time, though.”
“You almost had me this time,” Cisco admitted, still panting. “I’m gonna hurt tomorrow.”
“Then it’s a good thing you have until Thursday to recover,” Glass said. He ignored the students' groans. “Whoever the hell trained you last semester did one hell of a bad job. You’re behind, and it shows. I’ll have you caught up in no time, but yes, it’ll hurt to get there.”
“Why is this a mandatory class?” Trevor had bowed out not long after Amelia. “I’m going to be stuck in a lab all day, not fighting Olympiads.”
“And when you open a locked relic and something jumps out?” Glass pointed at Trevor. “It’s always the weak ones who don’t see the point. Physical fitness is more than just fighting off monsters. It’s about mental strength, too. It’s about treating your body like a temple so that it serves you instead of failing you when you need it most.”
“Hey, I’m not complaining.” Trevor raised his hands defensively. “I think we can all agree that I’m no specimen of physical prowess.”
Glass grinned. “That’s my man. I’ll have you looking like an Olympian by the time this semester is done.” His smile fell away. “Even if it kills you.”
Trevor gasped, and Glass chuckled. “I’m messing with you, kid. I’m not gonna kill you. You’ll probably wish I had a few times, but you’ll survive.”
Penny felt buoyed by the professor’s zeal. Since moving to Portland, she’d gotten soft. In Larribee, the only source of entertainment was the local gym and socializing usually meant helping out on a nearby farm.
Now? Her days consisted of endless coffee while her ass was glued to a chair studying.
Glass would whip her into shape in no time, and Penny was looking forward to the challenge.
Wednesday morning arrived. Penny threw herself out of bed. She’d been looking forward to this particular class all week, or, more specifically, to meeting the instructor.
Professor Quaid hadn’t been seen since the welcome dinner. Cisco told Penny the former agent was still in the process of moving to the state after giving up retirement in some far corner of the country.
The idea of meeting Agent Crenel’s teacher and mentor fascinated Penny. She was quickly realizing that the agent embodied much of what she aimed for. Crenel was dedicated to the cause, but he wasn’t so indoctrinated that he couldn’t think for himself.
Even his grumpy nature appealed to Penny; the idea that one could work for the government without being a total kiss-ass made the idea sound more attractive than it otherwise would have.
Penny arrived at Weapons class early. She knocked on the classroom door and, when no one answered, she pushed it open.
No one was there.
She took a seat near the front and pulled her books out, looking up when the door opened again. Cisco gave her a quick wave and took the seat next to her.
“Where’s Red?” Penny asked. The two were usually inseparable, at least when Amelia wasn’t around.
“I left him in the dining hall,” Cisco answered. “I wanted to get here early to see what Quaid is like. Can’t believe they found someone even older than Crenel!”
“Crenel isn’t that old,” Penny said. “He’s… like a grandpa. Not a dinosaur. Not yet, anyway.”
“Quaid probably cut his teeth hunting mammoth.” Cisco fished around in his bag and drew out a basic exercise book and a pencil. He examined the broken tip. “Hey, do you have a—"
Penny slid a pen across his desk before he even finished asking. “Don’t lose it,” she warned.
The classroom door opened again. Clive and Mara stepped in and, behind them, Professor Quaid.
Gray hair stuck out of his head at odd angles, and he hadn’t shaved since Penny had first glimpsed him at the dinner. His tie was crooked, and creases lined his sleeves.
Quaid unpacked a leather messenger bag,
carefully setting the books and pens on his desk and lining them up meticulously. By the time he’d finished setting up, the rest of the students had arrived and found their seats.
“Looks like you’re all here,” Quaid said gruffly.
Penny glanced around the room. She didn’t see a single person who wasn’t giving Quaid their whole attention. Clearly, she wasn’t the only student looking forward to weapons class.
“Who here has fired a weapon before?” Quaid asked.
Penny raised her hand, as did Clive and Jason. After a minute, Kathy put hers up too.
Quaid nodded. “Well, forget anything you’ve been taught. We’re going to start from the beginning.”
Penny filled about twenty pages during the lesson, noting down different gun types and their uses. She listed the rules of training and safety instructions and jotted down questions she wanted to ask in the margins.
Of course, there were some questions she couldn’t ask. “How can I learn to be a badass?” wasn’t something an Academy professor was likely to answer, even if they could. However, Penny was quickly realizing that she wanted what Agent Crenel had: respect, authority, and the capacity to save the world.
Penny turned her attention back to agent Quaid. He was wrapping up the class, eyes already darting toward his wristwatch. At exactly half-past eleven, he set down the red laser pointer he’d used on the slides he’d shown the class.
“That’s it for today.” Quaid gave the class a dismissive wave. “You can stop gawking. Go on, go get drunk, or whatever teenagers do between classes these days. Scram!”
A burst of activity erupted as the students around Penny quickly packed up their books and pencils and left the classroom. Penny ignored them, carefully packing away her things one by one.
As the bustle of movement receded, Boots peeked out of her hiding spot.
“There you are,” Penny said. “You haven’t come out to say hello once today. Were you sleepy?”
Boots tasted the air with a flickering tongue and nosed Penny’s books. A shadow crossed over her, and she looked up into the wondering face of Professor Quaid.
"Are you the girl with the lizard?" he asked.
Penny tipped her head to one side, bemused. "She’s a rainbow serpent, and that's my bag she is in. So…yes?"
Quaid lifted a sardonic eyebrow. "Looks like a normal snake to me. A regular python. It’s not unusual to keep one as a pet. Crenel told me she’s a Myther, though."
Penny started. "You can't see them?" She didn’t ask the obvious question: why would the academy of myths and legends employ a professor who couldn’t see myths and legends?
"Of course, I can't damn well see them. What do I look like, some kid with my head in the clouds?" Quaid shook his head. "They tell me it takes a certain kind of mind to see them once you’re past your early twenties. Some have gained the ability after a sudden exposure in life-threatening circumstances, but I’ve been out of the Bureau for five years now, so that ain’t gonna happen.” He shrugged. “But I don't need to be able to see fairies and unicorns to teach you how to hit a target or run a stakeout. I'm good at what I do and not much else."
Penny stammered an apology, but the professor waved it off. "Don't go making a fool of yourself, kid. I'll teach you to shoot, and you watch my back. If one of these kids gets an idea in their head involving a poltergeist and a bag of confetti, at least give me a warning. Agreed?"
"That's a very…specific deal," Penny said, her eyes narrowed. "Have you ever met a poltergeist with a bag of confetti?"
"If I told you, I'd have to kill you. I doubt your Dean would have any hesitation in sharing the story, though." Quaid gave her a quick wink and strode out of the classroom.
Penny quickly packed up the last of her things. "We're gonna have to look out for that one," she told Boots. "Not just for our own sake. If he can't see Mythers, we'll have to be his eyes."
Boots slowly nodded her head. Though the snake was sometimes obstinate and feigned otherwise, she could follow almost any instruction Penny gave her. That she was clever enough to respond only reinforced Penny's conviction that one day, they might be able to communicate.
Penny grinned at Boots. "Come on. Let's go get some grub. We don't have long until the next class."
Chapter Five
Professor Anand's melodious voice rang out above the scratching of pencils on paper as the students frantically took notes. "Despite originating thousands of miles apart and with entire oceans separating them, the stories told through history often mimic each other in ways that transcend mere coincidence."
"You mean like creation myths?" Kathy asked.
"That," Anand agreed. "But so much more. Take, for example, the wendigo. It's one I assume you are all familiar with?"
A murmur of assent went through the classroom.
Penny timidly raised her hand. "It’s just a big beast like a Sasquatch, right?"
The Wendigo wasn't a creature that any of her professors had covered in class, and it wasn't a myth she knew much about.
Professor Anand waggled her hand. "The Sasquatch, Yeti, and Bigfoot are all quite similar. The Wendigo is an overgrown beast, yes, but it comes from stories told by some Native American tribes. The Algonquian peoples, specifically. Clive, tell us what you know about this particular myth."
Clive jumped, looking around as if just realizing he was in the classroom. "Um, which myth was that?"
"The Wendigo," Anand said dryly.
Clive screwed up his face in concentration. "It's Native American. He's really tall and skinny, I think it's meant to symbolize greed or gluttony. He is a cannibal. Wait, he's not human, but he eats humans. Does that make him a cannibal?"
"No, you doofus," Mara called. "You're only a cannibal if you eat your own kind."
"Many of the myths agree the Wendigo began as human," Professor Anand clarified. "That would indeed make him a cannibal. He eats the flesh of humans, but each time he ingests a meal, his body grows. That means he can never be satisfied; he is always craving."
"Like Baba Yaga?" Jason asked. "She tried to eat that Ivan guy. Or one of her sisters did, anyway."
Anand whirled, jabbing a triumphant finger at him. "Exactly! Through all of history, cultures have stories about cannibalism. Lamias, Baba Yaga, the Wendigo, the Hansel and Gretel witch, Kronos, the wechuge. Our fascination with it doesn't end there. Apart from Hannibal Lector, how many horror movies have you all seen that feature cannibalism?"
"They're not exactly the same, though," Cisco pointed out. "The fat witch in the candy cottage is a far cry from a skinny giant who eats children."
"In this particular myth, the commonality is the behavior." Anand walked up to the board at the front of the class and scrawled 'behavior' on one side. She underlined it. "There are other myths that present visual commonalities."
On the other side of the board, Anand wrote “aesthetic.” "Who can give me an example of that?"
"Zeus and Odin?" Kathy asked.
"Yes, and don't you think both of them look like many of the depictions of the Christian God?" Anand asked. She then walked back to the board and drew circles around each of the two words, large enough that they overlapped in the middle. “Let’s take two more examples. Jesus Christ and Hercules. What do they share?”
“They both have long hair?” Clive called.
Anand raised a single eyebrow.
Before she could answer him, Kathy called out. “They’re both descended from a god and a human.”
Anand smiled. “Correct!” She centered the word “Origin” beneath the other two words. The circle she drew around it created a Venn diagram.
"And some myths are alike in every way," Penny said, guessing what was to come next.
Anand grinned and raised her hands. "Such clever students. This class may be easier than I anticipated."
"So, how does this translate to what's happening today?" Cisco asked. "If the witch from Hansel and Gretel appeared, would she be linked with a Wendigo?"
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Professor Anand sighed dramatically. "This, Cisco, is something we have yet to determine. At this point, it seems as though each entity that crosses to our world is its own identity, based on the myth it sprang from. The problem is that it muddies the water when attempting to identify some of these creatures. Take for example the Yeti, the Sasquatch, and Bigfoot."
"I'd rather not take one on ever again," Red muttered.
Anand pointed at him. "Yes, I did hear about that unfortuitous event last semester. Do you know, however, which of the three you captured?"
Penny frowned. "It wasn’t a Yeti, because it wasn't white," she said.
"How many people know that a Yeti should be white?" Anand countered. "Some of these creatures are born from mass belief. Although we now have the technology to instantly research and disseminate information, that is only a recent development. For too many years, our only method of sharing such information was the written word, and before that, stories. Both of those were quite limited, especially in times where travel was difficult."
"So, if enough people believed a Yeti could appear in Oregon and didn't know that Yetis are supposed to be white…" Cisco shook his head, face crinkled with confusion. "What did it turn out to be?"
Anand shrugged. "The jury is still out. Although the creature you caught shares aspects most common with a Bigfoot, there is enough ambiguity between it and the Sasquatch that there is no definitive way to tell. The chance remains, however small, that it could, indeed, be a misrepresented variation of the Yeti myth, although I personally doubt it is likely."
"But the Yeti lives in the Himalayas," Kathy said. "How could it appear here?"
"Bacchus came to dinner the other night, and I'm pretty sure this isn't ancient Greece," Cisco shot back. "And the influx of leprechauns should be confined to Ireland going by that logic."
