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The ones who came for him all stood in a frozen ring around him and a blinking Calix. Son of Persephone. An army of the dead was nothing to him.
“Who has to go?” Tycho asked. “The Sisypheans or Titans?”
“All of you, naturally.”
“But, sir!”
The uproar was immediate.
“The Titans didn’t do anything!”
“It was them!”
“It’s not fair. They’re always bullying us.”
“We were just defending ourselves.”
Drakos turned right around and walked out—ignoring every word out of their mouths. “Follow.”
The skeletons snapped to attention. Bony hands clamped on their struggling, thrashing captives—including me.
“No, wait,” I cried as two dead and rotting men grabbed me. I gagged on the smell. “I didn’t do anything. I stopped the fight. I stopped it!”
They dragged me past the Hell Boys, who were fighting just as hard against the skeletons holding them.
Sebastian cursed. “Drakos isn’t discounting this could be a double buff and we are responsible. The suspicious bastard.” He looked at me past crushing, shoving bodies—dead and alive. “Don’t worry, Vanda. I’ll get you out. You won’t spend more than a second in the reflection room. I always repay my—”
Something flashed out of the corner of my eye.
Water soared in an arch over Castor’s head and splashed Sebastian in the face.
“No!” Dimitri and Castor bellowed.
Sebastian blinked, screwing up his face as the Lethe water ran down. “What’s... going on? Where am I? What— What are you!” He bellowed, throwing himself back and kicking at the dead. “What is this place! Help me. Help!”
Selene laughed heartily. “I thank you for correcting my ally’s mistake. She underestimated the hellstones’ effectiveness at causing a distraction. This result is much more appropriate and achieves the same end.
“The son of Hades is a threat to us no more.”
I whipped my head around—searching for the thrower and Selene’s ally.
I saw nothing but dozens upon dozens of moving faces. I screamed my frustration as the dead carried me away.
“WHAT IS THIS? WHEREare we going?”
My dead captors held tight to my arms, dragging me behind Remis and Vasili.
They and our other instructors were waiting in the atrium when our protesting novice class was brought in. Seemed news of what happened spread quickly.
One after another, they were taken away to a room that made them fight and shout to get away—their cries echoing down the palace’s cavernous halls.
When my turn came, my friends were already gone. The tips of my toes skimmed the empty, silent corridor.
“Madame Remis,” I burst out. “What’s the reflection room?”
“It’s exactly what it sounds like.” Her calm reply floated over her shoulder. “A place where you can think without distractions.”
“What does that mean?”
