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“But those that do will go on to carry the legacy of the gods and the hopes of the people on their shoulders. There is no finer sacrifice. No greater duty. And no higher honor.
“Good luck to you, novices.”
With that, one of the figures—Headmaster Drakos—turned and went inside.
“Did he really just come out here to tell us most of us are going to die, but congratulations to the rest?”
“I’ve heard a lot about Headmaster Drakos,” Theron said. “That he’s warm and encouraging was never mentioned.”
“Well said, Headmaster.” Again, I covered my ears. “Let me extend my own welcome to you all. I am your combat instructor, Commander Vasili. You may address me as commander or sir.
“Over the years, I will get to know you, your strengths, and your weaknesses. By the end of these four years, I will only know strengths. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” the crowd chorused.
“For many, it’s been long days and nights of travel. I believe a rested fighter is a focused one. Let us get through the day’s requirements so you can retire to your chambers. Classes begin bright and early at sunrise tomorrow morning. Late arrivals will be punished.”
That was the second time someone used that word and didn’t follow it with clarification. What did punishment look like in Deucalion Academy? A place where the headmaster spoke of the low survival rate without irony or concern.
“Leave your bags where they are and follow the path leading around the left side of the building. Your placement starts now.”
We did as we were told—stacked our things in a pile under the trees, then followed the shuffling crowd around the building.
The gates didn’t come in this close to the academy. They extended into the forest, claiming a piece of it for the grounds. I started looking for how far the gates went in, and then I was just looking.
Sunbeams broke through the leaves, leaving shifting spotlights on what looked like a bunch of thin, gnarled, giggling tree stumps waddling around.
“Creepy, aren’t they?” Nitsa drew my attention. “Dryads. Ancient male artists drew them as gorgeous green deities with flowing moss hair and shining eyes because that’s how they appeared to them. To our very female vision, they look nothing like that. Hard to imagine the gods mating with them.”
“Aww, I wouldn’t say that. They’re kind of cute— Whoa!” I ducked, narrowly avoiding the rock one of them threw at my head. “What the hell was that for!”
Three waddling stumps hissed at me and picked up more rocks.
I ran.
“You must’ve been away for a long time if you didn’t know dryads hate women,” Nitsa called. She jogged after me, easily keeping pace with my retreat. “Nothing cute about them.”
“I’ll say!”
Something rose out of the corner of my eye. The closer we got, I picked it out as a—
“Stadium?”
“That’s right,” Theron said from my other side. When did he get there? I did not run as fast as I thought I did. “Placement begins.”
Another word people kept saying without explanation. I would stop asking though. I was giving myself away as clueless and too many questions about my past were dangerous. Stella called us novices. If we were all as new to this as that word implied, we were all starting at zero. I’d pick things up along with everyone else.
Our group broke apart, heading for different entrances into the stadium. I stuck with Theron and his friends, the five of us going straight instead of up to the higher seats. We filed into the second row as the seats filled up. Gazing around the novices, I noted that these were all the eighteen-year-olds from every corner of Olympia. Knowing that... it struck me that there were not very many of us.
Hundreds of people pushing and shoving on a lawn seemed like a lot. Hundreds of people in a stadium built for thousands... Were our numbers really this low? Or were the missing lucky enough not to run into Callan on their way to Miliadis?
I was pulled out of my musings by a man stepping out in the middle of the arena. I pegged him as Commander Vasili with a single look. His blond hair cut close to the scalp, the opposite of the thick, full beard trying and failing to cover his square jaw. Though we would be battling no monsters today that I knew of, he wore a cuirass, a short sword on his hip, and greaves to protect his shins. Not a flicker of emotion rode his sculpted face, but my impressions about him were already forming.
Vasili unstrapped a horn from his belt and held it to his throat. “Let’s begin,” he boomed. “Your instructions are simple. When your name is called, you’ll step up here, name your power, the god or goddess who gifted it to you, then demonstrate thatpower. If you need materials for the demonstration, make that known. Understood?”
Everyone chorused agreement except me. I knew this was going to happen. I couldn’t be in a school that trained demigods to use their power without answering the question of mine.
“What do I do?” I hissed at my wrist.
