CHAPTER FOUR
A broad-shouldered guy with dark, shoulder-length hair suddenly got up from his table and turned to face us. “Who’s asking for Pallas and Perses?”
I wondered for half a moment if I should supply my name or simply inquire further. “I am,” I answered. “Just tell me where I can find them. I just want to talk.”
“Since you don’t look like Othrys students,” the guy said as he sat back down and turned away from us, “I’d say your search is over. Go back where you came from.”
I took a deep breath to control my fury. My skin itched with tension. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“I didn’t give it.”
I cast a glance at Metis. She stepped forward. “Astraeus, where are your brothers? We just need to ask them some questions. That’s all.”
“I have nothing to say to you, traitor,” he said without turning.
The doors to the gaming hall opened loudly, and I instinctively turned. Menoetius and Atlas stared from across the room. I certainly wasn’t trying to run into them tonight. A teal-haired girl stood beside Atlas. A memory spliced into my mind for half a moment of Telesto, the girl I’d been so fond of last term back at lower school … before being shipped to MO Prep … before meeting Metis. But, this girl only resembled Telesto slightly.
I pointed to the girl on Atlas’ arm. “You’ve moved on rather quickly, haven’t you?”
Atlas put his arm around the girl’s shoulder. “Pleione. All I needed was the love of a good woman.” He turned to her. She beamed back at him. Atlas returned his attention to me. “You, however, can have my sloppy seconds. Enjoy.”
I took a step and a half toward him, but Metis grabbed my waist and brought me back into port.
“That’s right,” Atlas jeered. “Pull that leash. Metis, I see you haven’t yet taught him to heel.”
Menoetius laughed as if he’d just heard the best joke ever. “What would ever possess you all to come over here tonight? Courses begin tomorrow for all of us. You should get some sleep, ‘cause you all look tired.”
I took another step forward. “Malodorous, tell me where Pallas and Perses are and I’ll let you get to whatever game you came here to play.”
“You’re funny. But not funny enough.”
Atlas dropped his arm from around Pleione’s shoulder, crossed the room, and pierced my personal space with his nose. “We’re not telling your ass anything. Scratch that …” He backtracked slowly to stand in front of the doors. “I’ll make you a deal. If you get through me, I will gladly tell you where they might be.”
“You mean, through your busted lip and everything?”
Laughs and ooohs rang out around the hall.
“Try me,” Atlas spewed through clenched teeth.
I really hadn’t come here for the kind of trouble this would get me in. Then again, maybe I had. What was I going to do once I’d found Pallas and Perses? I thought back to the night at the wrestling match. “Atlas, you’re not gonna ‘ooooh-ooooh’ or whatever your little desperation call is?”
Atlas laughed. “Nah, I’ll pass. But thanks for the offer.” He cracked his knuckles. “Besides, Money is here. So is Astraeus. Your little crew is already outmatched. I’ll give you first move. Take your best shot or be gone.”
Hera spoke into my mind, Don’t you do it. You’ll get detention!
But I’d already begun my descent into the darkness. Needle pricks of energy pushed through my palms. I didn’t have to look down to know what was happening.
Nooo! Hera yelled at me mentally.
Atlas tried to block the strike, but in a swift punch to his throat, I launched him backwards with enough force to blow the doors wide open in reverse. Atlas rolled down to the foot of the stairs, writhing, and holding his throat. He gasped for air momentarily.
Menoetius scrambled out the door and down to him. “What the …”
I stood at the top of the stairs to admire my handiwork, while effectively sheathing my weapon, or rather retracting my energy tendrils. I loved that I could turn it on and off on demand.
Menoetius looked up to me. “You did this? And what was that light around your hand?”
I feigned ignorance. “I didn’t see anything.” I glanced around. “Hera, Shade, did you see anything?”
“Oh, I see how it is.” Menoetius canvassed the entire lot of us Olympians. “Metis must’ve told you Atlas’ weak spot,” he said. “Ahhh, the secrets we tell …” He chuckled. “Well, let’s make this a fair fight, shall we.” He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Oooooooh-oooooooh!”
Damn. I knew it. Cowards.
Hera chastised me, You really shouldn’t have done that.
Metis grabbed my hand. Her smile could’ve split a boulder in two. “Damn, boy. I love when you do that thing you do.”
I smiled back at her. “That wasn’t even full power.”
Hera whispered to me alone. That girl’s gonna get you in big trouble one day.
I shot back. This wasn’t for her honor. This was payback.
Hera glared at me. The retaliation was hardly proportional. Admit it, you were showing off. And now it might cost us all big time.
A crowd of fifty or so young Titans formed around us like ocean water rushing into an inlet. Prometheus trotted in the foreground. I remembered him from last term. Thick neck as wide as his head, Prometheus wiped his shoulder length hair out of his eyes and adopted an aggressive stance when he saw Atlas lying on the ground.
Suddenly, Epimethius came tearing through the crowd. Selene’s moonlight glinted off his bald head. He yelled, “This is gonna be epic!” He threw down a round shield. As it slid, he ran and jumped on it, gliding toward us. But it stopped abruptly when it met the dirt and pebbled walking path. Epic was launched forward flailing into the dirt, stumbling several steps and falling.
“Come on, Epic! Damn!” Promo yelled. “You’re making a fool of yourself.”
“It worked yesterday.” Epimetheus shook his head in shame.
“Sit your ass down somewhere,” Menoetius barked.
This wasn’t how this operation was supposed to go. I’d actually hoped for more of a stealth mission. Dammit! I should’ve let Shade go invisible and do some recon first. We Olympians still held high ground at the top of the steps, that is, until I jumped to the bottom and approached Atlas who still writhed in the dirt.
“I will ask you again, where are Pallas and Perses? Hold up your end of the bargain,” I said calmly, confidence filling me like a wine goblet running over. “Or can’t you talk much anymore?”
“We don’t bargain.” Atlas coughed out. “We are Titans!”
“What’s all this about, huh? Why do you need the Sons of Kreios anyway?” Menoetius squared up in front of me, veins popping out across his bald head and his neck muscles jumping.
Epic and Promo helped Atlas to his feet as the legions of reinforcements of other young Titans and Potamoi surrounded us. “That was a nice little trick there with the glowing hand and all. But I’m done playing childish games. Now, I’m only here to whoop some ass and chew some mint leaves. And I’m all out of mint leaves.”
Don jumped down the stairs, followed closely by Shade. “Aww, isn’t that cute? Tell us where the brothers are, so we can go home.”
“Titans!” Menoetius spread his arms wide. “Tonight we dine on immortal bones!”
“I like mine crispy and well-done,” Atlas said, his voice lacking its usual swagger.
“Found your voice, hmm?” Anger dripped into my ichor bloodstream anew. “Crispy and well-done, eh? Is that a poorly veiled reference to my family on Crete? Huh? Do you know something? Was it you?” Energy began to swirl around both hands.
Shade moved his hands in front of his face and then disappeared, causing the crowd to gasp. Suddenly, Atlas was airborne again and landed straight on his back with a loud thud. As he got back to his feet, a large man in red and gold official robes pushed his way to the center of the throng. Dark curly hair ringed his head and chin like a lion’s mane. A notable hush fell over the crowd as many of them attempted to disperse.
Menoetius immediately tried to backtrack. His shifting and downcast eyes hinted at a deference, if not fear, that I’d never seen before. “We were just defending ourselves. Look at Atlas—”
“Everyone, stop,” the well-dressed man said. “Acknowledge and yield!”
Swiftly, every Othrys student shouted, “Iapetus!” and took a knee with bowed head. Even Atlas, Money, Epic, and Promo, which made sense given that Iapetus was their father. Thank goodness for the long conversations with Kreios at the Stone, Scroll, & Sword last term to determine the Titan lineage and family tree.
Shocked and confused by how the Titans responded to Iapetus’ request, we Olympians remained standing. Iapetus’ lips turned down at the corners. His eyes narrowed to slits as he approached us with steady, deliberate steps. Anger danced in his black eyes. “I said, Acknowledge. And. Yield. Do your ears work?”
Feeling confident in my new abilities, I quipped, “More like, I do not fear you.”
He got close enough to my face that I could smell the lamb on his breath. “Well now, we’ve not been properly acquainted. Allow me to introduce myself.” If scowls could also simultaneously be smug, he had it down to an art form. He extended his hand as if he were going to shake mine but then a knifing pain pierced my chest along with his hand. Crushing pressure engulfed my lung to the point that I could hardly breathe. He spoke again, evenly, “Now then, I am Iapetus, acting headmaster of Othrys Hall. When I appear, you must … acknowledge and yield. That means … say my name to acknowledge that I am in fact in your presence … and then yield to me by taking a knee. Are we clear?”
The pain in my chest was so great I grew lightheaded. My vision blurred. Voices sounded distant. I no longer smelled the charred air of the torches that surrounded us. I could scarcely even summon my energy. It’s as if he’d dampened it somehow. Metis rushed to my side to hold me up. A yell caught in my throat as I relied on one lung to breathe.
“Stop it!” Metis yelled. “You’re hurting him!”
“Isn’t that sweet? But Metis, you already know the drill. Now all of you …” Iapetus said. “Acknowledge and yield! I won’t say it again.”
“What do you mean?” Tia asked in a high pitch from behind me. “We don’t even attend this barbaric school.”
“Say. My. Name.” He growled. Veins bulged across his face as he began to actually lift me into the air. “You will all say it now!”
Without warning, I crumpled to the ground. Apparently, Iapetus had released his hold on me. I coughed and gasped ragged breaths. Metis embraced me tightly. By the time my vision returned and the scent of torch-lit air hit the back of my nostrils again, Rhea stood between us and Iapetus. An indigo-haired girl I barely recognized stood beside her, carrying a sack over her shoulder. Around her neck hung a leather necklace holding a huge shark’s tooth.
Great Gaia! I knew that my goose was going to be charbroiled later.
“Rhea, I hereby charge your students with gross insubordination, punishable by ten hemeras in The Hole,” Iapetus said. “They did not acknowledge me. And they did not yield.”
“Nor will they.” Rhea wagged her finger in the air. “My students answer to me, Mount Olympus Preparatory Academeia rules, Hellas scholastic system regulations and standards, and other agreed upon Pantheon League-wide conventions. Acknowledge and yield is not one of them. Now then, we’ve just completed the paperwork for Amphitrite to transfer schools. And we’ve concluded satisfactory diplomatic talks following last term’s escalated drama between our schools, yes? Let’s not ruin our gains with a pissing contest.” She paused a beat. “‘Cause, I’ll make it rain out here.”
Tall and athletic Amphitrite moved from Rhea’s side and slid into an embrace with Don. That’s when I remembered where I’d seen her, at the wrestling match last term. Don’s girlfriend.
“What are you all doing over here?” Amphitrite whispered.
“Later,” Don snapped.
“Rhea,” Iapetus said. “This is my academy now. I’m headmaster and I preside. An operation this large does not operate without order and consequence.”
“And yet, your predecessor needed no such infantile phallic displays of forced grandeur and circumstance. Students simply fell in line under Kronos. As do mine.” Her tongue remained on the roof of her mouth for a moment to emphasize the ‘mine’ part of things.
“Then you will do well to remove your students from my academy grounds before I subject them to Othrys Law. My law.”
“You’ll do no such thing.” Rhea pointed a long finger at the new Othrys leader. “Besides, I’ve not yet determined why they’re even here.” She turned to me. Her intense gaze slammed into me with the weight of a hammer as she spoke her next words through clenched teeth, “Why. Are. You. Here?”
“Headmistress,” I said, my voice pitched higher than intended, probably related to my nearly deflated lung. “Honestly, everyone else came along to support me. It’s my fault. I came here to confront Pallas and Perses.”
“Why, pray tell, would that be your objective?”
“We just returned from Crete.” My throat closed. I croaked out my next words. “They’re all dead. Aristaeus. Amalthea. Everyone.”
Rhea’s austere façade cracked. She whispered, “Amalthea … dead …” She brought her hand slowly to her mouth, and then quickly straightened. “Students, we must return home to Mount Olympus.”
“But I need to find out who—”
“Now!” Rhea thundered.