Twelve

“Ava, wake up!”

A hand was shaking her shoulder. Ava opened her eyes to find a raven-haired, hazel-eyed Layla sitting on the side of her bed, already dressed. “Today’s the day!”

Ava ran to the window. A month had passed since Ms. Demi had arrived at the Accademia, bringing cooler temperatures and overcast autumn skies. Still, the tourists came, passing by the palazzo in their private motorboats and gondolas, never guessing the real identities of the “gifted” children who gazed out from inside. Students weren’t allowed off campus—there was too much of a risk, Mr. Orion had explained, that a student’s power might emerge, resulting in what he called “a clean-up situation” for the gods. Most of the time, Ava was so busy she didn’t mind. But every once in a while, the old building felt confining, and she longed to wander the city or be out in a boat on the lagoon, free from the undercurrent of worry that she would lose control and reveal her monstrous heritage. What if even Fia turned away? Her fear of being ditched a second time—and by someone she liked so much—outweighed her hope that Fia wouldn’t care.

But today, Ava was looking to see if anyone unusual was pulling up to the Accademia. The “very special guest” Ms. Clio had promised on the first day of class was supposedly arriving that morning. Mr. Orion wouldn’t reveal the mystery visitor’s identity, but he’d held a special assembly in the Great Hall where he admonished everyone to be on their best behavior, reminding them again about the three-strikes policy. He’d even read another regretful letter from an expelled student who bemoaned that she had no friends and that the only job she could hold down was managing the social media account of a dictator from her parents’ basement. “There’s a job for everyone,” Fia had said.

While they were in assembly, Hygeia, the Greek goddess of cleaning and the school janitor, sent an army of brooms and mops flying through the school. They tackled the floors, halls, walls, and even, when assembly ended, some of the younger students’ faces. Anticipation ran high as everyone tried to guess who this year’s special guest would be—Zeus? Dionysus? Aphrodite? Hopefully not Hades. Ares had come the previous year, according to Layla, and started a tremendous food fight that had ended in several students getting strikes.

Ava could tell Layla was excited because her hair and eyes changed color every few minutes. Ava had noticed that this happened when Layla was nervous too. Layla looked in the mirror, took off one outfit, then put on another.

“The yellow sweater looked good when I had dark hair, but now that I’m a redhead it’s all wrong,” she said with a sigh. “It’s really hard to coordinate my outfits on days like this.”

Just then, Ava spotted a gondola—its sole passenger, a frail old man—veering toward the entrance of the Accademia.

“Layla,” Ava said, waving her over to the window. “Who’s that?”

“Don’t know,” Layla said. “Could be a tourist . . . or a god.”

Ava, who knew the gods often transformed themselves to visit the mortal world, guessed the latter; a half hour later she was proven correct. The shriveled old man sat beside Mr. Orion on a stage constructed in the front of the Great Hall. Ava watched the guest from her usual table with Layla, Arnold, and Fia.

“Who do you think he is?” she whispered.

“Zeus?” said Arnold.

“Zeus would never disguise himself as an old man,” Fia said. “He’s too vain for that.”

Fia had a point. Zeus usually transformed into something powerful, such as a bull or swan, or magnificent, such as golden rain. Ava studied the old man. His face was wrinkled, but his silvery gray eyes were bright and gleaming. Her breath caught in her throat.

“What if he’s not a god?”

“What do you mean?” asked Layla.

“What if she’s a goddess.”

Mr. Orion rapped his hand on the podium. “Students of the Accademia, this is a very special day. The gods take a great interest in this school, and one of them will occasionally come to see us here at the Accademia. Today, I am honored to present to you the hope of soldiers and friend to heroes, the wisest of women, the goddess—”

“Athena,” Ava whispered.

“Pallas Athena!” bellowed Mr. Orion.

The little old man leaped to his feet, transforming into an enormous horned owl that circled the Great Hall with an angry screech. The owl swooped down over students’ heads with its sharp talons bared, making them flinch, before landing on the podium. There it transformed into a tall soldier in an armored breastplate and crested helmet who pointed their spear at them as if about to attack. Finally, the soldier removed their helmet to reveal a young woman with wavy golden hair and the same sharp gray eyes as the owl and the old man.

Without prompting, everyone burst into applause. Ava was certain she was clapping the hardest. With a sharp pang, she remembered the brief, hopeful moment when she’d imagined she was descended from Athena, hero of men, not Medusa, villain of just about everyone.

“Thank you, Orion,” Athena said. Her stern gray eyes swept across the Great Hall. “I am eager to see the work of rehabilitation you do here.”

“Oh, so now we’re in rehab,” Fia whispered with a roll of her eyes. “Monster rehab.”

“I’m sure she didn’t mean it like that,” Ava whispered back.

“We’ve selected two outstanding students to guide you through a typical day of classes,” Mr. Orion said. “This morning, you’ll join . . .”

Arnold slumped in his seat. “Zale,” he predicted.

“Zale,” Mr. Orion said.

Zale stood up and bowed in Athena’s direction. She gave an imperceptible nod.

“At lunch, Zale will hand you off to one of our newer students—Ava.”

Ava looked from Fia to Layla. “Me?”

Layla elbowed her in the side. “Stand up, Ava!”

Ava stood and waved at Athena. The goddess just stared at her, unsmiling. Ava heard someone laugh and felt her face turn red. Of course she shouldn’t be waving to a goddess! Ava bent over, giving an awkward bow.

“Let’s all show Athena how in control of ourselves and focused we can be,” Mr. Orion said.

As Zale escorted Athena down from the stage and out of the Great Hall to his morning activities, Ava turned to the others.

“I can’t believe Mr. Orion picked me!”

“Why not?” Fia said. “Ms. Clio probably had something to do with it. You’ll be taking Athena to her class.”

“She’s my favorite god,” Ava said. “I picked her for my project on the Greek gods at my last school. . . .”

An image of Owen’s drooling, frozen face popped into Ava’s mind. Her stomach tightened. She was nervous enough about meeting Athena—why was she making it worse by thinking about her secret? She pushed the memory away.

“That’s great!” Layla said. “You’ll have lots to talk to her about then.”

“Make sure you sit with us at lunch, so we get to meet her too,” Arnold said.

Ava grinned. “Who else would I sit with? Zale?”

Fia shrugged. “You do seem to be moving up in the world.”

The edge in her voice surprised Ava. But Ava forced herself to keep smiling. Fia was just jealous. Athena was probably her favorite god too. Ava just hoped that Fia would try to behave for once in Ms. Clio’s class.