by Abbie Lyons
Chapter Twenty-Five
Spring really snuck up on us.
For one thing, in all the chaos—with a small “c”—that had happened after Wilder took over as dean, I’d completely forgotten that the solstice was such a big deal. So it was pretty baller to wake up one day to what was basically a demon Memorial Day picnic, complete with bonfires, fireworks, and tons and tons of picnic food.
“No s’mores, though.” I pouted. The main spread was set out in the cloister, in the middle of the herb gardens, with a warm breeze ruffling through the leaves. I felt, if not totally relaxed, at least more at peace than I had in week.s
I wonder how Raines felt.
“What now?” Morgan said through a mouthful of shortcake. “What on earth is a s’more?”
“Never mind,” I said. “Hey, where’s Teddy?”
Morgan rolled her eyes. “Three guesses.”
I craned my neck around the crowds and found Teddy at the center of a small ring of admirers. All female. His face was bright pink, and he was grinning like an idiot.
It was pretty hard not to admire Teddy after he saved my life, Raines’s life, and took down the conniving ex-philosophy-professor-turned-murderous-dean. Even the reading period and end-of-year exams couldn’t dilute the spotlight on him. I swear I even caught one of Camilla’s henchwomen giving him the eye.
“Sigh,” I said. “They grow up so fast.”
“I know, right?” Morgan said, swigging her wine. “Soon we’ll probably have to give him the talk.”
“Oh, God.” I smacked her shoulder. “Don’t even go there.”
“You are not drunk enough, BTW,” Morgan said. “So lookie here what I brought.”
She flashed a small, rectangular black box—her tarot deck. I rolled my eyes.
“No, please. Do we have to?”
“Doctor’s orders!” she said, dangling the box in front of me. “C’mon, Noves, it’ll be a laugh.”
It had been a while since I’d had a laugh. Instinctively, I looked around from where we were sitting on a low stone ledge, searching the clusters of students for a familiar face.
Raines and I hadn’t really talked since that day. He’d immediately gone to the sick ward, and though I’d spotted him sitting through our finals, looking tired but not especially worse for the wear, that was it.
I never in a million years thought I’d miss feeling emotions like that. Even finding out I was half-demon was less of a surprise. Because my outward identity may have always been a mystery to me, my mom’s past a total shroud, but I knew who I was on the inside. Cold. Hard. Tough. Bad at feelings, bad at people.
Raines changed that. Whether he meant to or not. Suddenly, there was a listener on the other end of the whispering bench.
Was. Not anymore.
Did we even have a reason to talk anymore?
I shivered, even though it was finally warm enough to bust out my favorite black tank top.
“Draw ‘em up,” Morgan said, fanning the cards in front of her face. I made a big show of closing my eyes and plucking a card from the stack.
“Ooer,” she breathed. “Nice going.”
I opened my eyes again. On the slate stone in front of me lay a card engraved with an elegant woman, a horned crown on her head and a pillar on either side of her.
“The High Priestess,” Morgan said. “That’s the power of the divine feminine and all that rubbish.”
“Meaning?” I studied the card. The girl’s outfit was dope, if nothing else.
“Meaning you’re about to go deep on some subconscious revelations,” Morgan said, grinning. “Knowing the answers of deepest truth.”
“No shit,” I said. “What are the odds?”
“And,” Morgan said, lifting the bottle we’d swiped from the refreshments table. “More to the point, it means you should drink.”
“Ms. Donovan?”
A tall, kindly middle-aged man stood just in front of his, his hands clasped behind his back. Morgan not-at-all-subtly attempted to hide the bottle.
“Professor Lattimore,” I said. “I mean, uh—Dean Lattimore.”
I kept forgetting. After Harlowe got booted, and Wilder got, well, murdery, then almost murdered, then taken to the Regents Tribunal for sentencing, Lattimore had been appointed interim dean by a unanimous vote of the faculty.
“No worries,” he said, friendly as ever. “If you don’t mind, I’d like a word. In my office,” he added.
I glanced at Morgan. “Sure.”
Lattimore nodded, and the next thing I knew, we’d rematerialized in the dean’s office, now devoid of pretty much any personal effects, which made it a little creepier than usual.
“I apologize for the bare walls,” Lattimore said, taking his seat behind his desk. “I haven’t had much time to settle in, and, well, since this is really only a temporary position, I felt that it might be...inappropriate to make myself too at home.”
Good old Lattimore. Humble to a fault, and a genuinely nice guy. I was glad once again that he’d been the one to introduce me to this whole crazy world.
“No problem,” I said. “So...what’s up?”
If Lattimore cared about my casual speech, he didn’t show it. “Well, first of all, Ms. Donovan, I wanted to check in on you. See that you’re...well, recovering.”
I shrugged. “Honestly, I think I’m fine.” It was mostly the truth. “I have good friends here. And I don’t think I failed any of my exams.”
Lattimore smiled. “Well, that’s good to hear. But you know you can always bring anything to me, if you need to. Now that everything’s straightened out with the probation, there’s no reason to fear repercussions.”
I nodded. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” And I meant it.
Lattimore leaned forward, folding his hands on the desktop. “However, the main reason I asked you in is because it’s just come to my attention that you have not yet completed the entirety of your first-year requirements.”
I frowned. “What?”
He cleared his throat.
“I have your exetasis results, Nova.”
THE END
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Afterword
Dear reader,
Thank you so much for reading Hades Academy: Second Semester. I hope that all the new adventures here were as exciting to read about as they were to write.
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xoxo,
Abbie
http://www.authorabbielyons.com
