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“Was that maybe a little too—”
“Easy?” I finish for Kali, the five of us walking towards the dining hall. Still in a daze after completing the last of the practical exams.
“Yeah,” she answers warily, gaze flitting side to side, scanning the hall around us. As though scared a professor might just pop out and shout ‘April fools’ before pulling us into the actual exams.
Most of the other students move about the halls in the same daze as us—a mix of trepidation and relief blend together in my gut. Sure, we definitely needed to study, but by the way the professors were acting, all of us thought the finals would be nearly impossible.
The written portion covered mostly the materials we covered in the first two weeks of class. While the practical exams for meditation and combat, ran almost like a typical class. Except the professors moved about the students with clipboards observing us and taking notes.
An ominous feeling sticks to my skin, slowing my movements like molasses. We silently gather our dinner, and make our way to the usual table.
I barely get the plate of food on the table when a crackling pricks my ears. Maximus is at my side before I even register what’s happening. Much to my chagrin, he positions me behind him. Leaving me in the familiar position of peeking around him to see the headmaster, this time just a projection. The dark figure, shrouded in his usual cloak, flickers into view.
Cutlery clangs to the table, the sound ringing out around the dining hall—everyone’s attention shifting to Headmaster Mavros. The silence is deafening in comparison to the usual chattering that serves as the background noise to most meals. I smack Max’s arm, my hand bouncing off his thick, trunk-like bicep. Sexy to look at usually, but annoying when I’m trying to see past him. He looks down at me, brows drawn together, and moves even further into my eyesight. I attempt to peer around him but I can barely make out the headmaster’s form now.
“Students.” His voice echoes off the high ceilings of the dining hall. He pauses, raising his arms, the sleeves of his robe so long they drag against the floor. I cross my arms, finding an opportunity to lean around Maximus’ arms and tap my foot in annoyance. I’m really starting to get annoyed by this guy’s flair for the dramatics.
“It is with great pleasure that I’m able to announce. All students have passed the finals and will be taking part in the Ascension tomorrow morning,” he announces gleefully, dropping his arms to his side. My gaze flashes to my friends in question. The strange feeling of foreboding creeps back in, souring my stomach.
“It is my honor to usher a new wave of demigods into our school. Your wellbeing is our utmost priority. This is just the next step in ensuring all of our students’ safety.” With that, he disappears—the faint ringing returns before he vanishes from sight.
“Let’s go.” Maximus turns towards me, the words coming out in a low rumble.
“My food—” I reach towards my forgotten plate, but he clamps a hand around my outstretched arm, leading me away. “Hey,” I protest, trying in vain to wrench my arm free from his grasp.
“You can get food back at the house,” he mutters, dragging me along behind him. I give the others a feeble wave along with a look of apology. Damn brute can’t even wait for me to finish my meal.
He pulls me along, heading to the same corridor Adrian took me on the night of the dance. My stomach is tied in knots as he leads me into a different room. He flings the door open, scowling at the floor.
My eyes catch on the chunks of marble that litter the room. As though someone had taken a sledgehammer to the wall. Maximus merely kicks them aside, clearing a pathway. Our footprints leave marks in the fine dust left behind.
“What do you have against my pasta?” I ask him incredulously. “I had garlic bread there, you know.” Garlic bread is life, and I dare anyone to disagree. I’d fight them for real.
He narrows his eyes on me, shaking his head. “It’s not the garlic bread, and you know it. I don’t know that headmaster, and I don’t trust him.”
“You don’t know him?” I ask, pausing in shock. My heels dig into the floor. He must take pity on me since there’s no way my heels would have gained enough traction to stop our momentum.
“I’ve heard of him, but I don’t usually make it a point to get to know demigods,” he grumbles, giving me a pointed look before sighing in exasperation.
“I just—something just isn’t right about him,” he explains, pulling me closer to him but not moving further into the office. I tilt my head and stare back at him, needing more of an explanation than that.
He mutters something unintelligible, before continuing, “He’s up to something—the problem is I can’t figure out what exactly. First with him brushing off the initial attack, then with his push to move the Ascension up. We didn’t even tell him about the second attack, yet he found out somehow. He even beat us to speaking with the council, and got the upper hand,” he says, looking around uncomfortably, as though Mavros would pop out at any moment.
“I know what you mean,” I admit nervously, looking around too. The same unsettling feeling washes over me. “I’ve had a bad feeling about him from day one. It’s like a black cloud surrounds him.” I don’t meet his eyes, heat warming my cheeks—flooding with embarrassment for how ridiculous that must sound.
I chance a look back and see his assessing gaze running over me. “I’ll let the others know, and we’ll figure out a game plan for tomorrow.” He pulls me even closer, preparing to dissipate.
“Why?” I ask, and the question freezes him in place. “Why bother going through all of this?” I ask, looking down at myself, his words from earlier in the week replaying for the millionth time.
“Don’t worry about it,” he responds gruffly. Pulling his magic around us and transporting us back to the house.
I shake off the magic as though it’s an old familiar friend, the sensation no longer jarring to me, and follow him silently up the stairs.
“I’ll have the staff send food up to you,” he adds, the thoughtful gesture freezing me in place. “Don’t leave your room until the morning.” His words trail off, as though he wants to add something else but can’t let himself reveal that much of his heavily guarded emotions.
“Thanks?” I respond, the word coming out like more of a question than I mean it to. The gesture is so very strange to me. I search his gaze, but he looks off to the side, refusing to meet my eyes. The only confirmation I get that he heard me is a slight nod. Accepting that, I make my way up the staircase to hide away in my room, and agonize over what tomorrow will bring.
