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“Yeah, as in you make me want to dash my brains out,” he snarls as we walk down the corridor.
“Wonderful, that’s all I ever wanted,” I reply in a sugary voice. He shoots me a withering look, to which I respond with an innocent smile.
We walk the rest of the way in silence. Alfredo takes me on a detour, and we leave the school premises, walk a bit, then stop at the side of the street. A jacket wouldn’t have been a bad idea, but I don’t let my discomfort show.
“Why are we waiting out here in the cold?” I ask, although I already know the answer.
“We’re waiting for my parents. We want to arrive together.”
I nod.
At some point, the Fabricis show up. They’re dressed to the nines in eveningwear, expensive jewelry tastefully displayed without being too ostentatious. Alfredo’s mother clicks her tongue when she sees me but refrains from commenting. There’s nothing she can do about it now. So we reenter the school together.
The entrance hall is filling up, and I see a few other people dressed to impress and engaged in animated conversations. Nothing here suggests that a test is about to take place. It looks more like everyone’s looking forward to a pleasant evening at the theater.
The Fabricis position themselves around me and smile warmly at the people standing around. They don’t linger but continue with me to the hunter wing. We enter a section I’ve never set foot in before and arrive in a spacious foyer. It’s already packed, and it appears that every single Council member is here tonight. Wait staff weave through the crowd dispensing champagne as if we’re waiting for the opera to begin or a gala dinner. The atmosphere is cheerful and relaxed. I wonder how Claire’s feeling and where she is right now. Is she nervous?
My eye is drawn to a few members of her family standing off to the right, talking among themselves. Albert Cunningham is standing beside his daughter, and I recognize Lennard Cunningham too. I don’t know the others. They show no outward signs of apprehension. Is that because they’re hiding it well or because they’re in no doubt that Claire can pass the test?
Mr. Cunningham laughs and turns his head. He spots me and the Fabricis. He says something to his daughter and then comes to greet us.
“Miss Franklin, how wonderful to see you. You look lovely. How are you? I’m so pleased that the Fabricis invited you along to this special evening.”
“Thanks, I’m doing just fine. The family is taking good care of me and constantly presenting me with new challenges.” My tone is so charming and friendly that my words can only be interpreted as praise.
But Mr. Cunningham’s not stupid, and he can read between the lines. He nods with a knowing smile. “And I’m pleased to see that, while you appreciate that, you haven’t changed a bit.” Then to Ms. Fabrici, “You’re doing a wonderful job.”
She clenches her jaw and fights to maintain her composure. “Albert, my dear, you know us. We take our duties very seriously. And even tonight, as observers, we’ll continue to do so conscientiously. We can’t wait to see how Claire performs. I hope she’s not nervous.”
“Claire’s been waiting a long time for this day. She’s looking forward to it, and she’s more than ready. The same goes for us and everyone else here, I’m sure. What could be better for the Tempes world than having our shared dream come true with a goddess among us? It makes any quarrels between families pale into insignificance. Don’t you agree?”
Mr. Fabrici nods coolly. “Of course, Albert. And we’re all so full of hope.”
“What schemes are you hatching over here?” a blustering voice cuts in. Mr. Montrell appears and puts his arms jovially around Mr. Cunningham’s and Mr. Fabrici’s shoulders. “You’re conspiring together without me?” He laughs raucously, making his belly bounce up and down.
“We were just saying to Albert how hopeful we are and that we wish Claire all the best,” Ms. Fabrici explains with a radiant smile, as if she’s posing for a toothpaste commercial.
“Oh, I’m sure you do. It must be a nerve-racking evening for you, Albert. We’re all excited to see whether Claire passes. Hopefully it won’t be another disappointment.” He looks at me and adds, “No offense, but we really expected more from you.”
I raise my eyebrows, and I’m about to respond when Alfredo steps in. “Teresa’s made good progress recently. We’re now using some different training methods that she was too weak for at the beginning. If she had to do the test again, you wouldn’t recognize her.”
I shoot Alfredo an incredulous sideways glance. Sure, I’ve improved, but I’m still miles away from being able to control my powers. It must be really important to him to keep me in the game if he’s laying it on that thick.
“Well, that’s wonderful news. Then maybe we still have a chance of finding a goddess, if – God forbid – Claire should fail.” He sounds sincere and friendly, but his expression conveys something else entirely.
At that moment, a melodic bell chimes, and the crowd starts moving toward two doors at either end of the reception area.
“Let’s go in,” says Mr. Montrell, placing his champagne flute on a side table and turning toward one of the doors.
I exchange a glance with Alfredo, and we make our way through with his parents. My thoughts are already on the test, and I’m wondering what form it will take.
Chapter 12
The space reminds me of a college lecture theater. Half of the room is filled with rows of tiered seating, which gradually fill up with Council members.
The Fabricis don’t pass up the opportunity to do a lap of the room with me as it fills up before taking their seats. Once I’m seated beside them, I turn my attention to the front of the room, where all I see is a plain wooden table that’s in no way impressive nor eye-catching. What’s about to happen here? I doubt Claire will be asked to demonstrate her fighting prowess. The room is too full. And surely the table would have been removed for that.
Suddenly, a door opens in the wall behind it. A slender man with gray hair steps out. I’ve never seen him before, but I assume he’s a member of the Council.
