Part 6 (1/2)
”This isn't over, Gwen,” Helena spat out. ”If the Protectorate doesn't make you pay for what you've done, then we will. Do yourself a favor, and leave Mythos while you still can. Or do us all one and stay here so we can deal with you ourselves. Win-win for us, either way.”
The Amazon smirked at me, then turned and stalked off to her table a few feet away. One by one, her friends followed her, and the other kids headed back to their seats as well. Still, only hushed whispers filled the dining hall, and everyone kept staring at me, wondering what I would do now.
”C'mon. Let's get out of here,” Logan said, putting down the dishes.
I bit my lip, nodded, and got my messenger bag out from underneath the table. The Spartan grabbed my hand, and we headed for the doors. To my surprise, instead of following along behind me like he usually did, Alexei fell in step with us and flanked me on the other side.
Just before we stepped outside, something slammed into my back. I froze, wondering if someone had shot an arrow at me, but it didn't hurt enough for that. A second later, the thing on my back slid off and clattered to the floor, and I realized what had happened-someone had thrown a plate of food at me.
I looked over my shoulder at the mess. Chunks of Logan's omelet were sticking to the back of my gray hoodie, sprayed across my back like the paint on my dorm room door, while the plate had broken into a dozen pieces. I reached back and felt a few chunks of cheese sticking to my hair. Ugh.
”Bull's-eye.” Helena's voice rang out loud and clear, and she started laughing.
Anger, frustration, and embarra.s.sment made my cheeks burn, but I didn't give Helena the satisfaction of turning around and glaring at her. That would only make the Amazon laugh louder and make her that much more determined to torture me.
Instead, I straightened up and walked out of the dining hall, the cruel laughter of the other students ringing in my ears and adding to the misery already in my heart.
Chapter 8.
My day didn't get any better after that.
After going back to my room to shower and change again, I went to my morning cla.s.ses. I sat in my usual seats and tried to concentrate on all the lectures and homework a.s.signments, but I was always aware of Alexei standing in the corners of the rooms, watching me.
Actually, he had to stand in the corners, since the other students pulled their desks away from mine as soon as I stepped into the cla.s.srooms. The first time it happened, I thought maybe we were breaking into study groups, so I got to my feet and started to scoot my desk around with everyone else's, until the Viking in front of me turned around and glared at me.
”You stay right where you are, Reaper,” he hissed as he grabbed a desk in each hand, lifted them up, and carried them across the room.
Seconds later, I was sitting by myself in the middle of the floor with everyone lined up on the opposite side of the room. Even worse, they were all staring at me with hate-filled eyes, including Mrs. Melete, my English-lit professor.
The same thing happened in my other cla.s.ses. Desks pulled away, me sitting alone, everyone glaring at me.
At lunch, I raced over to the dining hall, grabbed a soda and a hot, grilled ham-and-swiss panini off the lunch line, and ran back to my dorm room before anyone could come after me again. Alexei trailed behind me the whole while, easily keeping up with my quick strides. Once again, he didn't get anything to eat. I was starting to wonder if he just existed on air, silence, and fixed stares.
I climbed the stairs to my room and was reaching for my key to go inside when I noticed that someone had tagged my door and walls again. Grandma Frost had gotten the worst of the graffiti off last night, but someone had come along and traced over the words in Reaper-red paint again.
MURDERER. KILLER. REAPER b.i.t.c.h.
My stomach clenched, and tears p.r.i.c.ked my eyes, but I blinked them back just like I'd been doing all morning. Alexei stood beside me, staring at the door, his expression as blank as ever.
”Here,” I muttered, thrusting the bag with the panini in it into his hand. ”You might as well eat this. I don't want it anymore.”
I went into my room and shut the door behind me, leaving Alexei out in the hallway. I stood there in the middle of the turret, just breathing-in and out, in and out, in and out. I wasn't going to cry. I was not going to cry. I wasn't going to give Helena, her friends, and everyone else that satisfaction, even if no one was around to see me break down.
My emotions seesawed from upset and scared to sad and melancholy to indignant and angry. Once again, I latched on to the anger, remembering every insult, every curse, every enraged glare, and imagined stacking them together like bricks around my heart to block out the pain.
It took several minutes, but I finally felt calm enough to get ready for the rest of the day. The first thing I did was swap out the books for my morning cla.s.ses for the ones I'd need this afternoon. It didn't make me feel any better, but at least it kept me busy for a few minutes.
Vic's eye snapped open as I pulled him out of my messenger bag and propped him up on my desk. ”Don't worry, Gwen. It'll be okay. You'll see. You're not the first student who's ever been falsely accused of being a Reaper. Once the Protectorate clears you of all the charges, things will go back to normal.”
I thought of the rage and disgust that I'd seen in all my cla.s.smates' eyes today, as well as in the faces of my professors and everyone else.
I shook my head. ”I don't think things will ever be the same again. The way everyone looked at me today . . . like I was a bug they wanted to crush under their shoes . . . the absolute hate in their eyes . . .”
Emotion clogged my throat and made it hard to speak, but once again I managed to hold back the tears. ”And I could feel it all, you know. With my magic. I could feel exactly how much everyone despises me. It was like a sword slicing into my heart over and over again. It hurt worse than anything else I've ever felt before, even when Preston stabbed me.”
I rubbed a spot right over my heart. Despite the fact that Metis had used her healing magic on me, I had a thin scar on my chest from Preston's attack. Another scar sliced across my right palm where Vivian had cut me with the Helheim Dagger. Metis said that sometimes artifacts as powerful as the dagger made wounds or left behind scars that just wouldn't heal or fade away no matter how much magic you used on them. Today, I felt like I had another scar to go along with those, only this one was on the inside where no one could see it-except me.
”Gwen?” Vic asked.
”And it only got worse as the day went on,” I continued in a dull tone. ”It was like the longer people looked at me, the more they hated me. So no, I don't think things will ever get back to normal. I don't even think I know what normal is anymore.”
Vic gave me a sympathetic look, but he didn't try to soothe my worries again. He was a sword, after all, something made to do battle. Vic knew as well as I did that at the end of the day someone had to step up and fight the Reapers. And right now, that someone was me-even if this battle was only against my cla.s.smates' fear, frustration, and anger.
My gaze landed on the photos of my mom propped up on my desk. One showed my mom when she was about my age, her arms around Metis's back when they'd both been Mythos students. The other was a more recent photo, one she'd had taken shortly before her death last year. I grabbed that photo, sat down on my bed, and pulled the picture out of the frame. As I ran my hands over the slick, glossy surface, images of my mom flooded my mind, along with my love for her-and all the love she'd had for me too.
Violet eyes are smiling eyes, my mom's voice whispered in my mind. It was something she'd always jokingly said, since she had the same strangely colored eyes that Grandma and I did. I focused on her voice, replaying her words over and over again, until all I could hear was the love and laughter in her tone, until all I could see was the light in her eyes and the soft, knowing curve of her smile.
I concentrated on those images and feelings, pulling them up and letting them fill my mind, my body, my heart, letting them wash away all the anger I'd felt surging off the other students. Those images of my mom, the love she'd had for me, made me feel just a smidge better and gave me the strength to face the rest of the day.
I sat on my bed holding her picture until it was time for my next cla.s.s.
I put my head down and just tried to get through the rest of the day without drawing any more attention to myself, but of course my afternoon cla.s.ses pa.s.sed even slower than the morning ones had. Even Professor Metis's myth-history cla.s.s, which was normally one of my favorites, was torturously long.
At least in that one, I didn't have to sit by myself. Carson kept his desk right where it was in front of mine, and the band geek glared back at all the kids staring at me, almost like he was s.h.i.+elding me from their accusing looks. I would have leaned forward and hugged him, if that wouldn't have made the other kids angrier at him than they already were for sticking up for me.
Finally, sixth period ended, and I schlepped back to my dorm. Normally, I would have snuck off campus to go see Grandma Frost, but the Protectorate had told me to stay put. I doubted Alexei would let me get within ten feet of the academy walls anyway, since he took his guard duty so seriously. Plus, the Protectorate had probably put some magic mumbo jumbo on the sphinxes at the gates just to make doubly sure I stayed on the grounds right where they wanted me.
Besides, Grandma would take one look at me and demand to know what was wrong, and I didn't feel like talking about it. All I wanted to do was forget that today had ever happened, even though I knew I never would.
I stayed in my room for a while, reading comic books, but the bright, colorful pages failed to cheer me up like usual. I couldn't really concentrate on the stories anyway, not today, so I got my things together and headed over to the Library of Antiquities.
Once again, Alexei was waiting outside, and he snapped to attention as soon as I opened the door. He'd been quiet all day long, barely speaking to me. Daphne was right. He was like a shadow-a very dark, dangerous, brooding shadow. I wondered what he would do if I tried to make a break for it. Probably chase me down, catch me, and drag me off to the academy prison. I had no false hopes that I could outrun or outfight the Bogatyr warrior. I'd seen Alexei working out in the gym this morning, so I knew how tough and strong he was. He'd probably gone through a bunch of superspecial Protectorate training to make him even harder to beat than he naturally was.
”I'm going to the library,” I told him. ”I work there a couple of afternoons a week as sort of an after-school job.”
Alexei shrugged, like it was of no interest to him what I did or didn't do. I rolled my eyes, locked the door, and headed down the stairs.
I walked over to the library, with Alexei trailing along behind me. It was after four now, and students were moving back and forth across campus, going from the main quad down to their dorms and back again, as they went to whatever club meetings, sports, or after-school activities they were involved in. I spotted Carson rus.h.i.+ng toward the gym, pages and pages of sheet music clutched in his hands as he headed to band practice.
Carson was a Celt, a warrior bard, which meant that he had an innate talent for music. He could play practically any instrument he picked up, and he was one of the leaders of the band. Ever since we'd come back from the holiday break, he'd been talking almost nonstop about all the preparations the group was making for its annual winter concert, something that was taking place Sat.u.r.day in the Aoide Auditorium down in Asheville.
Carson waved at me, and I waved back-and then realized that I shouldn't have. The motion only drew more attention to me from the kids milling around on the quad.
”Traitor.”