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Callan turned back to me. I didn’t like his darkening expression or Alex’s warning ringing in my ear. I couldn’t give anyone a reason to look deeper than my eyes.
“This is not good,” Selene hissed, making me jump. “The boy is quite right that you must stay out of the council’s grip. Once they have hold of you, they’ll squeeze.”
“How would you know?” I snapped at Freckles. “Got a map of the place in your pocket? I think I know where I went to school.”
“I’m from Miliadis,” Freckles replied. “Born and raised. There are four peasant schools. Harisday isn’t one of them.”
“You clearly haven’t been back in a while. Haris Day is new.”
“Uh, well, it has been a few months,” he confessed, “but I’m sure I would’ve heard if there were plans to build another one.”
“Would you? From who? The mother you clearly haven’t spoken to or visited in months? Shame on you,” I said, making him reel back. “She’s probably worried sick. You stop in and see her the minute we arrive.”
He snapped upright. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t call her ma’am,” Callan barked.
“Yes, sir.” I don’t think Freckles had ever been more frazzled.
Callan stepped between me and my victim, his piercing blue eyes stripping me bare. “Where in Miliadis are you from, girl?”
“I didn’t say I was from there.” I lifted my chin, holding his gaze. “I said I go to school there.”
“So you did. Meaning if I ask Stella, daughter of Hermes”—he pointed to one of the women—“to send word to Haris Day’s headmaster that we’ve found one of their truants scrounging for the coin to get home in a tavern bedroom.”
I flushed hot.
“He’ll be most relieved to hear the news you’re returning, yes?”
“There’s no need to disturb the headmistress,” I gritted. “She’s a busy woman.”
“Who are you?”
“You’re not allowed to question me.”
His eyes flashed. That was the wrong thing to say. “I have the right to question any suspicious person who dared to attach themselves to Master Damien in an attempt to manipulate their way into his mother’s sister’s home.” He snapped around, marching off. “Get her ready. We’re taking her to Trono City. We’ll see what the council makes of her.”
No. No, no, no!
“Tell him how old you are,” Selene shouted in my ear. “Do it now!”
“Eighteen,” I cried. Callan stopped in his tracks. “I’m eighteen. My birthday was yesterday.”
“Ahh.” Callan faced me. I didn’t understand the smirk on his lips. “The clouds begin to clear. You’re nothing but an attempted deserter who thought she could seduce Master Damien and use him to make your escape. Such a thing will never happen as long as I draw breath.”
I threw up my hands. “What you think is happening is most definitely not happening.”
“Silence. You will be taken directly to Deucalion Academy to report in, as is your duty. And be thankful this clumsy plan did not work. Only shame, lies, and cowardice awaited you in Miliadis. Your future lies in the academy and with the Olympian army—serving and defending this great land.”
“Army? Did you just say army? You’re taking me to report for military service?”
Callan swept out of the room.
“Hey? Hey!” I ran after him and crashed into a hard wall of bodies. Stella shoved me back hard. “You can’t do this. You can’t force me to join an army. Come back here. Come back! Let me go!”
“Cease your prattling, girl. Attending Deucalion Academy is mandatory for all Olympians once they turn eighteen. Your alternative is ten years hard labor for the crime of desertion.”
My knees gave out, dumping me on the bed. “Hard labor? But what about my mom? What do I do?”
