Prologue

“I am not going to do this,” a deep voice growled.

            Eight teenagers were gathered around a table waiting for their orders to come.

            “Keep your voice down,” a girl said. Her intense gray eyes flickered around the room. Though the restaurant was mostly empty, she did not want anyone to overhear the conversation.

            “Calm down,” one of the guys said. He was relaxed and wore a big smiling, showing off his blinding teeth. “Take a deep breath and—”

            The gray-eyed girl glared at the boy. “I think you are forgetting the danger we are in. If we don’t succeed . . .”

            An eerie silence fell between the eight.

            “Well, here’s your food,” a waitress said coming up to the table. Her hands were full with baskets of burgers, hot dogs and other meals. She passed around the food to the teenagers, none looking that much hungry though. “Can I get anything else for you?”

            A curly haired boy lifted a finger, “I’ll take a wine.”

            The waitress hesitated. “I’ll need to see some identification.”

            The curly haired boy shifted in his seat and cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t have an ID,” he replied.

            “I’m sorry but that’s the restaurant’s policy. No ID, no wine.”

            An angry flash crossed the curly haired boy’s face. The waitress swallowed and took a cautious step back.

            “Whoa, hold on. Sweetheart,” said the guy with the blind smile, “He doesn’t need identification.”

            “But—”

            “Don’t worry,” the guy said widening his smile. “No one will find out. I promise.” He winked at the waitress and she felt herself blush. Charming, she thought. She glanced around the table wondering if anyone else would ask for something. None the other teenagers said anything though, none of them bothering to even look at her.

            Despite the guy’s smile, the waitress felt on guard. There was something about the eight teenagers’ presence that sent a chill down her spine . . . something dangerous. She suddenly felt scared for her safety. Giving a weak nod toward the curly haired boy, the waitress said, “I’ll go get the wine.” Walking away she couldn’t help but think there was something off about the teenagers.

            As soon as the waitress went to the kitchen the gray eyed girl glared at the curly haired boy. “What was that about?” she hissed. “We’re supposed to be acting like normal mortals.”

            “What? I was thirsty,” the curly-haired boy complained.

            “Relax Athena,” a beautiful girl said. She was applying on mascara and was only intrigued with herself. “Ares, sweetie, can you lift the mirror?” A burly guy grunted and did as he was told. “Thanks. Anyways, Athena you are worrying too much. All Dionysus did was ask for wine. I’m sure many other teenagers do the same.”

            Athena frowned.  

            “She’s just being careful,” another girl pitched in. She had dark hair and golden-ish eyes. She agreed with Athena that the curly haired boy was walking on a thin line.  

            “C’mon sis, Athena needs to learn how to take risks,” the smiling guy said.

            “And relax. Worrying is totally bad for your complexion,” the pretty girl added.

            “I take risks! What I don’t do is take unnecessary risks that could jeopardize our entire mission, Apollo,” Athena said hotly. “And Aphrodite, we have much bigger things to worry about than complexion.”

            “Your right,” Aphrodite said thoughtfully. She turned at face the gray eyed girl. “We need to do something about your hair.”

            “And her face too,” an elfish guy put in, grinning. But when Athena shot him a deadly glare he quickly mumbled, “Kidding.”

            “I don’t see why we need their help though,” Ares complained. “Why can’t we just go look for the others ourselves? If they get involved it could be a catastrophe. Mortals ruin everything.”

            There was a murmur of agreement around the table.

            “Because,” Athena said. “These mortals are—”

            “Connected to us, blah, blah, blah. So you’ve said,” Ares growled. “But do you really believe in that stuff?”

            “Look where we are now. Look what happened to the other Olympians. If we don’t want to end up like them then we need the mortals’ help.”

            Ares rolled his eyes. He turned to the other teenagers. “You guys don’t really believe in all this crap right?”

            Everyone hesitated. Apollo and Artemis exchanged nervous glances, Hermes stared at his uneaten food, Dionysus fingered with a fork, Hephaestus gave a low cough and even Aphrodite didn’t say a word.

            “They even have Zeus,” Hermes said quietly. He stared directly at Ares. “They took the supreme lord of the gods, the king of Olympians! How are we supposed to do this by ourselves?”

            “Hermes is right,” Hephaestus said speaking up for the first time since the eight arrived at the restaurant. “I don’t like it either but we need to find those mortals.”

            “And quickly too,” Artemis said. “We’re running out of time.”

            “They are our last hope,” Apollo said. “I’m sorry, but we are getting beat up out there. If we meet another monster I swear I’m going to die.”

            “Brother,” Hephaestus said clamping his large hand on Are’s broad shoulder. Then he paused for a moment, some wondering if it was for dramatic effect or if he was just working out the right thing to say. “Brother, we need to regain what we have lost.”

            Another eerie silence fell between the eight.

            A hard scowl crossed Ares face; it wasn’t like him to lose an argument, but he knew that he wouldn’t have a choice. He and the other Olympians didn’t have a choice. “And I suppose you know where we can find them?” Ares asked grudgingly to Athena.

            “I have an idea,” she said. She pulled out a brochure for some prestigious school. At the very top it said, Welcome to Fallon Academy.

2: Chapter One: Jonah
Chapter One: Jonah

First days of school suck.

            First days of new schools suck even more. Or so Jonah thought. He walked past the teeming school grounds filled with anxious freshman, exhausted upperclassmen and teachers flipping through graded papers. Everyone was enjoying the free time they had before the bell rang.

They weren’t that much different from the students from his old school Jonah thought. Except maybe the fact that most of these kids were walking banks.

            He felt a bit out of place.

            Entering the school building, Jonah’s shoes squeaked against the marble floors. He walked into the main office, trying to push aside the nervous knot in his stomach.

            “Ummmm, excuse me?”

            The front desk lady had her ear against the phone and was jotting down notes.

“Excuse me?”

            “What?” the receptionist said irritably, not taking her eyes off of her pad of paper. Wow, someone didn’t get her coffee today.

            “I’m new here.” No answer. “Uh, my name is Jonah Harper.”

            “Can’t you see I’m working here?” snapped the receptionist. “Go wait outside until I finish.”

            He wondered if she usually drank decafe.

            Jonah’s shoulders slumped. He expected there to be a waiting room but there wasn’t. Instead he had to sit out in the hallway.

            Then something caught his eye. Well, it was more like some people caught his eye.

            A group of girls were walking down the hallway. They seemed like your standard clique group except Jonah had a feeling that they were a lot more exclusive. Whenever one of them moved, the rest of them moved as if they were synchronized. All of them wore Fallon’s uniform: dark gray skirts with black stockings, the V-neck sweater, and navy blue ties; but on each of their wrists they wore a silver charm bracelet. Shiny charms of the moon and bow and arrows dangled from the bracelet. Jonah thought they might be a sorority or something (Could they even have those in high school?). Each girl was pretty, Jonah thought, such as the one with the braid and striking green eyes, or the blond princess-like girl who stood tall and proud.

            But one stood out above all others.

            She was shorter than the rest, and more delicate with silky skin and an elegant face. Her dark hair was in a ponytail and her eyes were a weird color—like the color of the midnight moon. The girl’s expression was full of authority and the rest of the girls followed behind her as if she was a queen or something.

            Jonah held his breath as he watched her walk by. He had a sudden desire to run up to her.

            The girl caught his eye and flashed a look of loathing. Jonah knew that was code for: Let’s hangout after school today. He threw her a smile.

            Shaking her head disgustedly, the girl averted her attention elsewhere. Jonah’s smile grew wider. A hard fish to catch? He was up for the challenge!

            “You can come in now,” the receptionist said as she poked her head into the hallway.

            Jonah snapped back into reality. “Huh?”

            “You can talk to the principal now.”

            “Oh . . . cool.” Jonah got up and went into the office, his mind still on the girl though.

 

“So Mr. Harper,” the principal began as soon as Jonah entered her office. Jonah thought she sounded like she had a nasal congestion. “I am pleased to welcome you to Fallon Academy. My name is Principal Reinhard. Here we not only strive to reach our academic best, but also become the best person we can be. This school is college preparatory so all of the classes are very challenging.” As she glanced at a sheet of paper her glasses slid down her nose. “I warn you that we take things very seriously here; if you have had any ah . . . issues, in the past, please talk to me or one of the teachers. We have a reputation to protect and if any student threatens it . . .”

Jonah frowned.  He hoped that she gave this lecture to all the new students.

“Anyway, here is your schedule,” she handed him a sheet of paper, “And you’ll get your ID in a few days.”

            Suddenly the door opened and an elfish looking guy came in. “Hey,” he said. “You called?”

            “Yes. Mr. Harper, this is Mr. . . .”

            “Mayer.”

            “Yes, Mr. Mayer. Mr. Mayer this is Jonah Harper.” Jonah inspected the guy. He had pointed ears, messy brown hair, a wide smile, and a slim build which reminded Jonah of a track athlete. “He has gladly stepped in while our current Student Council President, David, is out sick. He will show you around the school and help you find your first class.”

 “Nice to meet you,” the student grinned and held out a hand. “Herman Mayer at your service.” Jonah shook his hand, not sure what to think.

            “Very well, off you go you two.” And Principal Reinhard led them out of her office.

 

Minutes later Jonah was following Herman to East Wing. Herman was chatty, but Jonah liked that. It made him feel comfortable. He was having a great time talking about sports (though he played none) to films (yes, he was sort of film geek) to girls (secretly wanting to learn more about the girls he saw earlier).

            Suddenly Herman’s phone rang. Checking the screen a dark shadow fell across his face. He turned to Jonah and said, “Sorry. I really need to take this.” He pressed the cell phone against his pointed ear, dropping his voice into a whisper.

            Jonah had a tendency to eavesdrop; he subtly leaned in, hoping to catch a few words. Nothing that important. He only picked out ‘Chinese cuisine.’

            “Well, I apologize for that,” Herman said seconds later. As he put his phone away Jonah saw a weird symbol on the back. It was a stick with two snakes winding around it. What was it called? Something that started with a ‘c’ . . . 

            “Watcha’ looking at buddy?” Though Herman said it with good humor, Jonah thought he saw something flash in the elf guy’s eyes.

            “Nothing.”

            Herman studied the new kid with narrow eyes. Jonah found it a bit creepy and wondered if Herman was going to yell at him. In the end all Herman said was a good-natured, “Okay.”

            They continued in silence, Herman showing Jonah around the school, though no more laughter rang the hallways as it had minutes before. Jonah glanced at Herman. He figured the guy was a senior, the nice kind; Herman was comfortable with newcomers and didn’t seem to mind hanging out with the lower grades. He also knew the school really well. But Jonah had had terrible luck with upper classmen. At his old school all the seniors would mess around; trash canning kids, spray painting the walls, forcing students to eat the gum from underneath the table. Jonah had been victim to many of the senior jokes. He hoped that Fallon would be different.

            Recently Jonah had moved from Minnesota to New York. It was pretty big transition considering the fact that Jonah came from a town of about two hundred and forty nine people.

            About two and a half weeks ago he was getting ready to move in with his aunt and uncle. Both of his parents were in a hit and run (suspect not found yet) and died almost immediately. He spent some time with his neighbors but eventually his relatives claimed custody. Jonah hardly knew his aunt and uncle; he could barely remember their names.

            Settling into his relatives’ apartment was the easy part. He didn’t bring much: clothes, toiletries, a couple of books and movies, and a photograph of his parents. What was difficult was talking to his relatives, at least trying part was. They completely ignored him. The uncle—Jonah was pretty sure his name was Tim—was a lawyer and the aunt—her name Jonah didn’t know—was a fashion designer. They had no time for him.

            And Jonah wasn’t used to that. Coming from such a small place, where everybody knew everyone, Jonah wasn’t used to having so much privacy and so much alone time.

The school too, Fallon was a completely different environment. Obviously this was the kind of school for the kids who had money, or brains, or both. The building was an enormous size: it could hold up to four thousand kids! It had three gymnasiums, four Olympic sized pools, two auditoriums, a luxurious cafeteria, and a stable. Jonah had never seen all of those things in one school before.  

            “Well, that is the East Wing of Fallon,” Herman announced as he finished the tour. Jonah gagged, only the East Wing? “Here’s your first hour class. What is it? Chemistry?”

Jonah stared at his schedule. “Ummm . . . I think.”

Herman leaned in, squinting to see the fine print. “Yeah, you have Mr. Beauregard. Huh, heard he’s pretty good. Anyway, I’ll see you after the bell. You probably will need help finding your next class—that’s in the West section.” Herman grinned. “It was nice meeting you Harper.”

“Uh, yeah . . . Thanks for everything Herman,” Jonah said.

“No problemo dude.” Jonah was about to turn and go into the classroom when Herman put a hand on his shoulder, his voice dropping into a grave tone and the dark shadow overcoming his face again. “Oh, and Jonah, I’d be careful if I were you. You never know what lurks in these hallways.”

 

During class Herman’s strange advice still nagged Jonah’s mind. What a weird thing to say. Jonah wasn’t sure what Herman meant, but if he was referring to fights Jonah already knew to steer clear of those. A boy with his frame which kindly resembled a twig, he knew he didn’t stand a chance.

            “Mr. Harper I presume?” a low voice asked. Jonah blinked. He realized that a man who eerily resembled Uncle Sam’s cousin was staring directly at him.

            “Uh, yeah, that’s me.”

            “Hmm,” Mr. Beauregard said, inspecting the new student with careful eyes. Jonah tried to avoid direct eye contact and felt like one of the teacher’s specimen. “Class,” Mr. Beauregard announced loudly. “We have a new student joining us all the way from . . . Where are you from?”

“Minnesota,” Jonah said quietly.

 “Minnesota!” The teacher said this like he was trying to get the class enthused but no one shared any of his excitement. “His name is Jonah Harper.” Everyone stared at Jonah in mild surprise. Jonah figured it was rare for a fresh face to start during the middle of the school year—with Fallon’s status it probably wasn’t even allowed.

Mr. Beauregard clapped his hands together once all of the other students went back to their usual business. “Well, we’re doing a lab today. You’ll be paired with . . .” Jonah followed Mr. Beauregard’s gaze across the classroom. “You’ll be paired with Bach.”

            Jonah stifled a laugh. Bach? What kind of poor kid was stuck with that name?

            Mr. Beauregard called over Jonah’s lab partner; the guy had black, almost a shadowy violet, curly hair and wore a T-shirt with a panther on it and sweatpants. He was slow, taking him time to reach the new student and the teacher. Jonah reckoned Bach was extremely lazy.

            “What’s going on Teach?” Bach slurred his words together as if he wasn’t entirely awake.

“Bach, this is Jonah Harper. He will be your lab partner today.”

            Bach didn’t say anything.

            “I see. Welcome to Fallon Academy,” Bach said. Jonah noticed that his voice was slightly alert as if he were expecting danger.

            “Time for the lab,” Mr. Beauregard said excitedly. He gave Jonah a handout with the procedure and other stuff for the lab. “Today we’re dealing with magnesium; we’re going to heat it. Have you done this lab before? No? Here put on these safety goggles . . . got them on? Good. Anyway, we are . . .”

Jonah squirmed. He found it hard to pay attention to the teacher. Jonah was pretty sure his ADHD kicked in but he guessed that a new school was also just overwhelming for his head. His thoughts bounced around. He thought about Herman, he thought about the super-hot girl with the moon eyes, he thought about how Bach looked like he might fall asleep at any moment. Mr. Beauregard’s voice seemed so distant now.

            “Understand?”

            Jonah jerked back into reality. “What? Yeah.” Mr. Beauregard nodded and went to the other lab groups to see how they were doing.

            Jonah turned to Bach and asked, “What are we supposed to do?”

            “No idea.”

            Great way to start off the first day, Jonah thought. He glanced around to the other groups. Most of the students ran things somewhat smoothly. A guy yelped when he touched the extremely hot crucible. A few other kids accidentally burned themselves too. Many of the groups also had a hard time getting a good grip with the tongs on the crucible.

            Only one guy had no trouble. He was massive like a giant with broad shoulders and a ripped body. Greasy strands of black hair were out of place and dangled over his misshapen face, he had a mop-like beard that Jonah found a bit intimidating (Jonah hadn’t even started shaving), and dark piercing eyes. Jonah wondered if he was held back for a few years, he certainly looked like it. The guy worked silently with grace—well as much grace as a guy that big could. The fire didn’t seem to faze him, in fact, a couple of times the giant touched the scorching crucible and didn’t even flinch.

            “Dang, look at that dude go,” Jonah said to himself. Bach glanced at the new student but didn’t say anything.

            “I suppose we should start too,” Bach said, his slothful tone coming back in his voice.

            “I suppose . . .” Jonah continued to watch the giant, awe and fear crawling beneath his skin. The giant noticed Jonah staring but didn’t give it a second thought. He shrugged and continued to work on the lab.

            Jonah and Bach walked over to a lab station, neither of them looking excited to do the lab. Lighting the Bunsen burner Jonah felt uneasy being around the flame. In truth, he was terrified of fire. He was told that when his parents died the car went ablaze, casting the night sky into a glow. With the impact of the crash and the fire, there was no way his parents could’ve survived. When the police found the bodies they were burnt to a crisp.

            “Hey, watch it!” Bach chided Jonah.

            “What?”                                                                                                                                 

            “Don’t be so absent-minded!” Bach scowled. “You almost burned my hand!”

            “Oh, s-sorry,” Jonah mumbled only to receive an eye-roll from Bach. Definitely not a good first day, he thought to himself. He fumbled around with the tongs, desperately trying to divert his attention elsewhere. A lack of belonging crept up Jonah. He knew he didn’t belong here. He knew that others didn’t want him here.

            “Ahem. Hello, burning magnesium at twelve o’clock,” Bach interrupted Jonah’s thoughts.

            “Huh?”

            “Mr. Harper, put the lid on the crucible! Now!” Mr. Beauregard yelled. The teacher rushed over to the lab table and shut the Bunsen burner off, then following through he slammed the lid on top of the crucible. Everyone was staring at Jonah.

            “Mr. Harper,” Mr. Beauregard said breathing heavily. “Please pay attention to the lab and not doze off to daydream land.” The teacher heaved a sigh of irritation, no sympathy present. “Due to disobeying the lab rules I’ll have to punish you. You are suspended from the next five labs. Please make your way over to the far corner so I can give you a worksheet to work on.”

            Jonah felt his face heat up as his fellow classmates started snickering. Bach couldn’t contain his amusement and burst out laughing; more kids joined in the rambunctious noise. The only student who didn’t find any hilarity in Jonah’s mistake was the giant. He hardly paid any attention to the new student and Jonah said a silent thanks. At least one person didn’t laugh at his embarrassment.

 

Chemistry had dragged on for what seemed like forever. Finally when the bell rang Jonah ran out of the classroom. His blood was still heated from the humiliation at the lab. As Jonah stepped into the hallway he bumped into several students. Muttering apologies left and right Jonah was about to give up trying to fight through traffic when he heard his name be called.

            “Jonah!” Herman said cheerfully as he jogged up to the boy. “I see you survived the first period of the day. Make any friends?”

            “Not really,” Jonah mumbled.

            “Don’t sweat it, I’m sure by the end of the day you’ll be loaded with friends. I remember my first day of school: track team, lunch, pranks. All that good stuff. What’s your next class?”

            Reluctantly pulling out his schedule Jonah glanced at the print. “Uh, Algebra 2.”

            “Yuck, I hate math. Too much thinking. Actually I’m in the same class as you,” Herman said, his face slightly flushed. “Didn’t do so hot in Algebra or Geometry and barely passed either of them. But who needs math anyway? Am I right?” Jonah nodded. “The math hall is in the West Wing and we’ll have to walk up three flights of stairs so we better get moving.”

            Jonah was a bit relieved that he had Herman by his side again; it was nice to have a familiar face. And he was happy that the senior would be in next class too. If they were going to suffer the horrors of math, might as well suffer together.

            As they continued down the hallway, some guy who looked like a movie star walked past Jonah and Herman and shot them a smile. “Hey Herman,” the guy called out. “Who’s the pet?”

            “Paul,” Herman acknowledged. “This happens to be my new partner in crime, you’re fired.”

            “No one could ever replace me,” Paul teased. “You better watch out,” he told Jonah. “I’m going to get my spot back.”

             Jonah wasn’t sure how to respond. “I’m sorry?”

            “Don’t apologize,” Herman said. “Paul, Jonah is going to knock your socks off. Just you wait.”

            “Fine, I’ll be waiting to be impressed.” Paul challenged, his eyes focused on Herman. Then he turned right and disappeared into another swarm of students.

            “Don’t mind Paul,” Herman informed Jonah. “Some days we’re friends and other days we’re rivals.”

            Making their way to the first staircase of many, a picture caught Jonah’s eye. It wasn’t hard to miss. The picture was big and glossy with eight students side by side. Jonah discerned Herman grinning broadly, the girl he was crushing, Bach, the Paul-person, and the giant from Chemistry. Only Herman and Paul looked happy. Admitting silently to himself, apart from the giant—and perhaps Bach—all of the other students were very good-looking. Beneath the picture there was a small plaque that read: Special Thanks to (left to right) Herman Mayer, Paul Archer, Diana Archer, Henry Forge, Bach Crowne, Aron Forge, Alyssa Dove and Minerva King for their generous donation of  the new West Wing, 2012.

            Okay, Jonah thought, so these kids were like, super rich. Rich enough to donate an entire new wing. Before moving to New York the most money Jonah had ever had was a few couple hundred dollars, and now he was walking among kids who were up to their necks in Benjamins.

            Jonah stared at the picture some more. Looking closer, Jonah noticed something on the teenagers’ collarbone. It was a strange mark; it was light and Jonah had to squint to be able to see clearly. But it was there. The mark was a strange symbol . . . like a Greek letter or something. Odd. More and more questions popped up in Jonah’s mind. Who exactly were these kids?

            “Earth to Jonah . . . Jonah . . . Harper, wake up!” Herman snapped his long fingers in front of Jonah’s face. The kid blinked in surprise.

            “I’m sorry, what?”

            “Is this normal for you? Zoning out?”

            “Uh . . .”

            “Never mind. We have two minutes to hike up about three more staircases. And trust me: you do not want to be tardy for Algebra 2. Mr. Riggs is merciless. Absolutely brutal.” The elf guy glanced at Jonah and the new kid had a strange sensation that Herman was referring more than just being late to class. Taking off in a flash, Jonah did his best to follow Herman. But there was something about Herman that made Jonah want to hold back, to turn and runaway.

            Jonah’s mind reeled with questions and uncertainty. He knew something was up at Fallon Academy. He could feel it. He could sense there was something . . . powerful in the school. Like an ancient force waiting to be unleashed.

3: Chapter Two: Alex
Chapter Two: Alex

Alex was expecting the day to be just like any other.

            As she walked into the classroom she saw her friends clumped together at the far left group of desks. The girls were talking excitedly to one another, much louder than anyone else in the room. Each girl was wearing a silver charm bracelet to signify she was part of the Hunters of Artemis.

            Yes the Artemis, the very one from the Greek mythology, the goddess of the hunt. When Alex first heard it she, unlike most people, immediately believed it. But it wasn’t like Alex was really hardcore about myths beforehand; it was more like she was desperate for an escape from her family. She was willing to believe in anything that could give her hope for a new life. Alex counted herself lucky that she was able to join the Hunters and she never regretted that choice.

            Leaving boys was easy for Alex. She had a step-brother whom she despised; becoming part of the Hunters was a good excuse to not engage with him. Besides, Alex found most guys to be immature and stupid, to put it simply. She couldn’t understand how shallow they were to think they were superior—look at how much they’ve screwed up society.

            Sitting down next to the Hunters, Alex felt welcomed. Artemis had been more than happy to let her into the group. She was pleased to see another maiden not going astray.

            “Are you excited for the hunt this weekend?” a girl, Steph, asked Alex. Her dark brown hair was tightly wound in a single, long braid and her olive complexion glowed even in the dull classroom lights. The girl’s eyes were a deep emerald green, suck striking gems. Alex was secretly envious of her friend; Steph had that presence that made heads turn. But it wasn’t just Steph’s looks; Steph was a very talented and charismatic person. All of the Hunters respected her.

            A smile spread on Alex’s lips as she replied, “So long as it doesn’t turn out like last time.”

            Steph laughed. “We’re not the ones who should be worried.” Alex instantly looked at the Hunters’ lieutenant, Tara. The blond girl kept her eyes on the door, watching for the goddess, though her face was composed as if there was something foul in the air. Tara held her head up high and her jaw was tense. Alex always thought that the lieutenant was much too uptight. She caught Alex staring at her and her brow puckered.

            Alex and Tara never had a healthy relationship. Tara perceived Alex as threat to the Hunters: a girl who could easily bring a bad name to Lady Artemis. But Alex didn’t really care about what Tara thought about her; she had plenty of other friends amongst the Hunters and Lady Artemis enjoyed the new Hunter’s company. Unable to resist, Alex, with Steph’s help, pulled pranks on Tara, more often than not due to the constant stench of annoyance the lieutenant brought with her.

            “Good morning sisters,” Lady Artemis greeted the Hunters as she approached the girls. She wore a warm, welcoming smile that reminded Alex that this was home. Tara immediately scooted her chair over to make room for the goddess. Gracefully sitting down, Lady Artemis pulled out her notebook from her book bag—they were in school—and flipped to a clean sheet of paper. Even though she was new, Alex didn’t understand why Artemis was attending high school (despite how Hollywood portrays a teenager’s life, it wasn’t that exciting). Artemis was a god! An Olympian! It didn’t make sense that an immortal had to be cooped up in a stuffy classroom, tortured by the teachers with lectures that were the cure for insomnia.

But there were others. Other immortals that roamed the hallways of Fallon Academy and if Alex didn’t know better, they were all hiding a huge secret.

 

“Today we will be learning about . . .”

            Alex scribbled in her notebook, but she wasn’t taking notes; dozens of random doodles filled the page. She was paying attention, sort of. Alex never found the Revolutionary War interesting. She never found school interesting in general. She didn’t really care much for GPAs or colleges or any of the “growing-up” stuff. She knew her future: it would be with the Hunters.

            “Ms. Grey? Ms. Grey?”

            Steph poked Alex.

            Alex glanced up to find the teacher staring straight at her. “Yes Mr. Polanski?”

            “Please describe the significance of the Battle of Saratoga.”

            “Ummm . . .” Alex thought hard. The Battle of Saratoga? What happened? “Well, um, some people fought . . . in Saratoga . . . which is in New York . . . and they died.”

            “And why was this important?”

            “Because some British people were killed?”

            There were some giggles amongst the class and out of the corner of her eye, Alex saw Tara shaking her head and Artemis purse her lips; even Steph turned away, lips twitching, though she pretended to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Mr. Polanski’s face was not amused. “Can anyone else describe the significance of the Battle of Saratoga?”

            Someone on the other side of the room called out, “Julian knows the answer!” The student forcefully raised his friend’s hand up.

            “Mike!” the boy protested.

            “Mr. Lloyd, please, tell us why the Battle of Saratoga is so important.”

            The boy shot his friend an irritated look, sarcastically mouthing the word thanks. Turning to the teacher, he replied, “It’s the battle that influenced the French to form an alliance with America.”

            “Correct,” Mr. Polanski said.

            Alex blushed furiously. How humiliating! Corrected by a boy?

            The guy had short jet black hair, pale blue eyes surrounded by thick black eyelashes; he wore a dark gray cardigan over Fallon’s basic button up shirt and his tie was perfectly tied around his collar. His arms were folded across his chest as if to express his extreme boredom for the class. Mike slapped him on the back with a good job grin on his face. Julian suppressed a small smile.

            Julian and Mike turned their heads and looked directly at Alex. Mike snickered and whispered something into Julian’s ear while Julian sent her a taunting smirk.

            Enraged, it took all of Alex’s self-control (and Steph’s death grip) to keep her from going up to the boy and slapping him in the face. Tightening her jaw, Alex glared at Julian. The knowing gleam in his eye was so annoying. But it was strange, because although Alex had a huge animosity for the boy, there was rather odd sensation underneath her skin. Alex shook her head and told herself it was just her imagination.  

 

The bell rang and students scrambled for the door. The Hunters took their time though—except for Alex. Quickly shoving her notebook into her bag, Alex grabbed Steph’s arm and ducked out of the classroom. She dragged her friend into the wave of students, hoping to disappear into the crowd before Artemis or Tara could find her. The last thing Alex wanted to face was reliving the Battle of Saratoga incident. It was already a hassle being a fairly new Hunter, trying to ease in with a group of girls that had been together literally for centuries, and Alex sort of, did have a reputation for being a troublemaker and in Tara’s exact words: “a disgrace.”

After Alex decided she and Steph were a safe distance from Artemis and Tara, she began to slow her pace down. Stopping at the third floor balcony, Alex leaned over the railing watching students scurry to class below. Steph hadn’t said anything the entire time but she came up next to her friend and gave her a friendly nudge. Steph was tactful enough not to mention their history class.

Alex continued to watch students disperse in the hallways, but she herself made no movement to get to her next class. In fact, she was considering skipping just to readjust her thoughts. Her mind kept wandering back to the boy though. As much as she hated Julian, it seemed his annoying smirk was implanted into her mind. She saw the slight upward curve of his lip, crooked, forming slight dimples in his pale skin. His hair was ruffled like bedhead but he could pull it off perfectly. His icy blue eyes blazing into hers, his—

Stop, Alex chided herself. To be humiliated by a boy was one thing, to think about a boy was another.

Suddenly Alex and Steph heard a cluster of giggles. They turned around to see a group of girls gossiping amongst each other.

“Yeah we were assigned a Chem partner and guess who my partner is,” one girl squealed excitedly. “Julian Lloyd.”

            “No way,” the other gushed. “Him? He is so cute. Just gorgeous.”

            “I know! We get along really well. I think Julian and I were made for each other.”

            “Oooh! What if he asks you out?”

            “That’d be awesome. We would be the perfect couple.”

            “Who would be the perfect couple?” a new voice asked emerging from the flood of students.

            “Alyssa!” Both of the girls exclaimed. Alex resisted the urge to gag. Alyssa, a.k.a. Aphrodite, came over to the girls. She looked perfect as usual. A perfect eyebrow was arched in curiosity.

            “Sienna, details please,” she said. Alex rolled her eyes as the girl explained that for her science project she was paired with Julian and they had immediate chemistry. Alex frowned; Julian couldn’t actually like some naïve, self-indulgent girl. Alex paused and a frightening idea came over her. Was she jealous?

            “C’mon,” Alex mumbled, no longer wanting to defer from going to class. “Let’s get out of here.”

            Steph glanced at Aphrodite and the other girls and a look of disgust crossed her face. “Yeah,” she agreed.

            The two moved away from the group down the corridor towards their next class. Suddenly Julian came around the corner and Alex stopped in her tracks. His face was tired and seeing him up close Alex saw dark circles beneath his eyes. He ran his hand through his hair in a boyish manner, the Rolex watch on his wrist reflecting in the hallway light. As he passed by he glanced at Alex and Steph. He blinked but there was no flash of recognition on his face. Did he not remember what happened earlier?

            “I spy with my little eye, a Hunter watching a boy,” a candy-sweet voice sang. Both girls whirled around to a grinning Aphrodite. “My, my, my. This is a first! What would your goddess say?”     

            “Neither one of us were staring at anyone,” Alex protested.

            “Really? You could’ve fooled me. But I am the goddess of love and you can lie all you want because deep down inside I know how you feel.”

            “Shut up Aphrodite,” Steph said.

            “Aw, Stephanie where are your manners?” Steph frowned at the use of her full name; Alex knew it was one of her friend’s biggest pet peeves when people used it. “You don’t want to get on my angry side. Love is powerful and I can make your life miserable.” Aphrodite giggled at the thought and Alex caught a knowing gleam in her eye, as if she knew Steph’s future.

            “Whatever. We need to go anyway. Class.”

            “Bye-bye! Oh and BT-dubs, he is super-hot. I would’ve chosen him too.”

            Steph rolled her eyes and grabbed Alex’s arm. “Let’s get to class,” she mumbled.

            “Uh, yeah,” said Alex hastily and a bit too eager. Aphrodite’s ominous smile made her uncomfortable. The two girls quickly parted from the goddess.  

            “You weren’t staring at a boy were you?” Steph asked leaning closer to her friend as they came out of earshot from Aphrodite. Her green eyes were wide. Alex shook her head, turning away.

            “Of course not,” said Alex a bit defensively. “That’s absurd.”

            An oath was made when Alex joined the Hunters, an oath that swore off all boys. And Alex was determined to stick to that promise.

 

Sitting down in math class, Alex’s mind wandered around the room, thinking about anything but conic sections. She scanned the classroom, spotting all the Olympians in her class. There was Aphrodite trying out different shades of lipstick; Dionysus flipping through a wine magazine; and Athena, probably the only student in the class actually listening.

            She wondered if any of the other students knew that they were sitting among the Greek gods. Probably not. You wouldn’t think that Olympians were actually the Olympians. Just extremely beautiful teenagers. (Well, except for Athena’s universal knowledge.) To Alex’s surprise the gods did a fairly good job at pretending to be mortal and she knew that for them, that was a lot harder than anything else in their entire life.

            “Hey,” Aphrodite said leaning in next to Alex. The Hunter did her best not to cringe. “Which color do you think is best?” She held up several lipstick tubes and shoved them into Alex’s face.

            “I don’t know and I don’t care,” Alex said annoyed. “Besides, you should know what shade is the best for you.”

            “Oh honey, I wasn’t talking about me.” That’s a first, Alex thought. “I was talking about you.”

            “What?” Alex said a bit too loudly. The teacher, Mr. Riggs, shot her a glare. “Ms. Grey,” he said warningly. Blushing, Alex heard a few kids around her snicker. Aphrodite gave her a sly smile.

            Turning her attention back to Aphrodite, Alex hissed, “What do you mean the lipstick shades are for me?”

            “To primp you up of course,” Aphrodite replied happily.         

            “I don’t need that stuff,” Alex argued.

            “Have you seen yourself lately? I’ll admit that you’re pretty but girl, if you want anyone to notice you I’ll have to make you gorgeous.”

            “I don’t care about that stuff. I’m a Hunter, looks are not a priority.”

            “They are if he’s involved,” Aphrodite half-sang a bit too loud. A couple of students glimpsed in their direction. “I know you like Julian.”

            “Don’t blurt it out to the world,” Alex growled.

            “Lookie! You didn’t even deny your crush on the boy.” Aphrodite’s eyes lit up in triumph. “A Hunter loving a boy. And not just any boy. Mr. Tall, dark and handsome. Plus he’s very popular, smart, and captain of the soccer team. You know, for someone who dedicates her whole life to avoiding boys, you have a good taste in them.” Aphrodite suddenly gasped. “My, you two could be star-crossed lovers!”

            Alex scowled and cursed inwardly. Aphrodite misinterpreted everything; she didn’t like Julian or any boys. Alex wanted to yell at Aphrodite to just shut her mouth and stop letting idle thoughts run through her head.

            “But wait, I think Julian might like Sienna,” Aphrodite said thoughtfully. “Both of them are in a few of my classes and they are very close.” Aphrodite smiled and then her eyes widened as if she had an epiphany. “It could be a love triangle. Yes! I love it! Someone will have to have their heart broken.”

            “You’re insane,” mumbled Alex. She was seriously considering listening to Mr. Rigg’s lesson now.

            “You Hunters will never understand will you? Athena may have brains, Ares may have muscle, but love conquers all. If only Artemis realized this, but no, she just had to shelter herself up and be a maiden forever. Well, there was Orion,” Aphrodite said considerately. “There was a certain spark there.”

            “That’s ridiculous. Artemis only saw him as a hunting partner, nothing else. There was definitely nothing romantic about it,” Alex objected when she saw Aphrodite’s dreamy gaze.

            “Is that what she says now? My dear Alex, Artemis loves to twist stories, she thinks it makes her look better. But let me you in on something: don’t believe in everything your goddess tells you. More often than not it’s not true.”          

            Alex shook her head in disbelief. Aphrodite had to be lying. “Why would Artemis lie about Orion—or anything at all?”

            Aphrodite tossed her hair and shrugged. “Hello, does ‘maiden forever’ ring a bell? How awkward would it be if Zeus suddenly found out his daughter was like ‘Oh, sorry dad, I actually don’t want to be single forever’? She wanted to protect her reputation.”

            “She killed Orion, I wouldn’t call that a very healthy relationship.”

            The love goddess let out a dramatic sigh. “Gods, don’t bring that up. Okay, first of all: an archery competition? How unoriginal. And to think that Apollo always brags about how creative he is. Second of all: what kind of brother wants to ruin his sister’s life? Did he really want the one guy who could’ve cured Artemis’s ‘manphobia’ dead? Well congrats because mission accomplished. Foolish. He just had to butt in.”

            Alex wondered if Aphrodite was the one hurt the most out of everyone in the entire fiasco.

            But another thought nagged Alex’s mind too. Artemis never did elaborate on Orion. Aphrodite was right: Alex only knew the myths of how it went down (even those were different). There was no proof that said that Aphrodite was wrong, except Artemis and Apollo, but Alex had the feeling neither of them would come out with the complete truth. It was disloyal, but it seemed like Alex’s leader was hiding something.

            “Very, very suspicious isn’t it?” Aphrodite said watching Alex carefully. It was like she could see the gears turning in the Hunter’s head. “What other little lies could your goddess be telling you? Hm?”

            Alex shook her head trying to clear her mind. Aphrodite was just trying to get underneath her skin. It was Aphrodite who was telling the lies. She knew that Artemis and Aphrodite never got along well—due to different perspectives (to put it mildly)—thus causing an eternal dispute between the Hunters and Aphrodite’s followers. The love goddess’s teasing was just to have Alex make a scene. Something Aphrodite would surely gossip about later.

            “So are you just going to announce every single secret of Lady Artemis’s?” Alex shot back.

            Aphrodite giggled. “Of course not dear. She would definitely kill me then.” Alex assumed Aphrodite was merely using a figure of speech, but something in her eye told Alex she was not. “I’ll let her decide whether or not she’ll open up. But I wonder if you would still follow her if you really knew.”

 

Talking to Aphrodite all through math class was not something Alex enjoyed. Yet she had to admit that Aphrodite had done an excellent job at leaving Alex suspicious toward Lady Artemis and confused about her feelings for Julian. This was much more bothersome Alex would’ve liked.

            “Aphrodite doesn’t know anything,” Alex said to herself. “She’s just . . . delusional, that’s all.”

            The reassurance talk only worked half as well as Alex hoped for.

4: Chapter Three: Julian
Chapter Three: Julian

Julian regretted staying up all night.

            His body was fatigued and he could barely keep his eyes open. It was impressive that his mind could still function right even though his body felt like it might collapse at any time.

            Julian didn’t want to pull an all-nighter, but the nightmares haunted him. He remembered he and his older sister, Mia, were watching some movie when the doorbell rang. Mia answered to the door, puzzled at the sight of a policeman. Julian had not thought much of it until he heard his sister and the policeman talk in hushed voices. The memory of Mia breaking down to tears always broke his heart. She had hardly been able to tell her little brother that their mother was dead. Julian shuddered at the memory. It was the anniversary of his mother’s death; three years in counting.

            Three years ago Julian was living a content life. His family (him, his sister and his mother) got along well, lived in a nice house—a really nice house—and took on whatever life threw at them. Then a single person took that all away.

            Well, he still lived in a nice house; him and his godfather. Mia had moved away a year after their mother’s death. Julian didn’t hear from her that often due to Mia’s frequent travelling. His godfather, Simon Quincy, had been his mother’s best friend since college. And it wasn’t that Julian didn’t like the guy, he did, it was just Julian never clicked with his godfather as a ‘father’ figure.

            “You look dead.” Julian glanced to his left and saw his friend, Nate Ferris, take the seat next to him.

            “Hey,” Julian said trying hard not to yawn. Jeez, he made it through the first three hours just fine but the exhaustion was catching up to him.

            “Dude, did you get any sleep last night?”

            “As a matter of fact: no.”

            “Will you be able to stay awake for the discussion in English today? Though I doubt that reading Charles Dickens helps,” Nate said considerately.

            “I’ll be fine.”

            Nate snorted in disbelief. He shot a Julian a skeptical look and it reminded Julian of how much Nate hadn’t changed since they first met back in kindergarten. Nate was taller now, of course, and it made his body appear lanky. But his dirty blond hair was still untamed and his lips were always formed in a crooked smile. And even now Nate would win the motor-mouth award. There wasn’t a moment in the day where Nate wasn’t gossiping.

            Julian leaned back in his chair checking the clock. Class hadn’t started yet. The warning bell hadn’t even rung. Julian spotted Sienna Lessings walk into the classroom; she threw him a big smile. Sienna was nice-looking. She had long, auburn colored hair that tumbled on her shoulders, unblemished skin and startling amber eyes. Just to be nice he gave a small wave and a half-smile. She waved back frantically and blew him a kiss.

            Nate caught the whole thing and grinned. “You never told me something was on between you two,” he said as he playfully hit Julian in the arm.

            “There is nothing going on between us,” Julian replied. “I don’t know why she is acting like that.” He noticed a few other girls trying to discreetly look at him. He pretended not to notice.

            “Man, you’re lucky. You get all the chicks,” Nate complained. Julian rolled his eyes.

            “Nah, they’re staring at you.”

            Nate seemed to like that comment but shook his head and said, “Yeah, right. Just watch.” Half standing, he turned toward the other side of the room where Sienna sat. “Lessings! Would you rather date me or Lloyd over here?”

            Julian peeked over his shoulder and saw Sienna blush. She caught his eye and blushed harder.

            “As much as you would like to know the answer Mr. Ferris, please turn around and face the front of the class,” Mrs. Wilson scolded as she went up to the front of the room. Nate turned bright red, a weak smile on his face. He sat back down facing the front of the classroom.

            “Yes Mrs. Wilson,” he mumbled.

            Sienna and Julian grinned at each other and snickered.

            “You too Mr. Lloyd, face the front.”

            Julian spun around and gave a small smile to the teacher. “Yes Mrs. Wilson.”

 

“I am seriously impressed,” Nate said as he and Julian walked out of the classroom. “How can you pull an all-nighter and still function like a normal human? I would’ve been out before the first bell had even rung.”

            Julian grinned. “I can totally see that. Anyway, I have gym next period, no time for sleeping there.”

            “Ah, gym class with Satan,” Nate said. “That’s something I don’t envy you for.”

            “Ms. Knox isn’t that bad,” Julian said. He paused for a moment. That may have been an overstatement. Ms. Knox . . . how to put this nicely? She was your typical gym teacher who had the voice of a blow horn. It was like she was in the army. She didn’t even recognize students by their names, instead she referred to them with titles such like “Soldier 14” or Soldier 3.” She ran intense drills that have led to many kids vomiting afterwards—if she saw you puking she made you stay after school and clean the entire gym top to bottom. Many were sure that Ms. Knox did not have a soul.

            “Dude, she has ‘pain’ training days,” Nate said halting to a stop at his locker. “I heard one kid actually died because of her class. You can’t say she is not somehow related to the devil or some source of evil.”

            Julian sent his friend a quizzical look. “You can’t really believe in that stuff.”

            Nate shook his head. “I don’t know man, the world is crazy.” He pulled out a textbook and handed it to Julian. “Can you hold this for me? Thanks. By the way, I noticed you look at Sienna. You should ask her out, I think you guys could really hit it off.”

            Julian shrugged indifferently. He didn’t have a crush on Sienna and they weren’t really close. Thanks to a recent Chemistry project though, they spent a lot of time together. Julian guessed that because of that Sienna thought they had something more.

            “I’m not interested in anyone right now,” said Julian as he shoved the textbook into Nate’s arms.

            “Whatever you say.”

 

“Gather ‘round soldiers,” Ms. Knox yelled like an army sergeant. The students quickly filed into a single line and faced her. “Today we’re playing soccer. I know most of you brats think it’s an easy game but it’s not. Soccer is a sport that requires endurance, speed, agility, power, control and strategy. Unfortunately most of you brats can’t even succeed in one of those categories. That’s why this is a perfect opportunity to whip you soldiers into shape.”

            Ms. Knox paused and stared at the students with a scowl. Julian thought he heard the student next to him gulp. “We’re counting off into four teams. If I see any soldier slacking off it’s pain training for them. Go!” Ms. Knox blew into her whistle causing many students to flinch.

            After separating into teams Ms. Knox announced which teams would compete against each other. Julian was on Team 2 and he went to retrieve a blue penny. He was eager to get the game going, soccer was one of his favorite sports. He played for Fallon Academy’s Varsity team and not to brag or anything but he was team captain and MVP for the last three seasons. Let’s just say he’s had quite a career. As Julian put on the penny on he noticed his opponents. A couple of them were on the soccer team but played Junior Varsity, some of them couldn’t care less. There was one guy though who had a murderous gleam in his eyes.

            Aron Forge.

            The guy had a problem with everyone, even his girlfriend. Just looking at the guy caused him to get all worked up. Almost every student at Fallon knew to steer clear of Aron; those who were new soon learned their lesson. Standing at six foot three, short dark brown hair, square jaw, pure muscle and a deadly glare, Aron stared straight at Julian.

            “Ready to get killed pretty boy?” he scorned cracking his knuckles one by one. Julian ignored him. “I have something special for you.”

            Julian turned away and waited for the game to get ready. He didn’t know why Aron wanted to destroy him personally but it was better not to question Aron’s motives (probably because there wasn’t even one at all).

            “When I blow my whistle I want to a see a game starting,” Ms. Knox shouted. “On the count for three . . . three . . . two . . . one!” Ms. Knox blew into her whistle until her face turned beet red. Julian tightened his lips trying not to laugh.

            The game began and Aron dribbled the ball up the gym floor. His footwork was sloppy and lacked good control over the ball yet everyone was so intimidated by Aron they let him go by. Except for Julian. What kind of soccer player would he be if he passed over a challenge? He swooped right in and took the soccer ball from Aron’s feet and ran towards his opponents’ goal.

            Julian’s team cheered as he got closer and closer to the goal. One girl even shouted, “We got Captain Lloyd! We got Captain Lloyd!” But Aron was right on Julian’s back. “You’re not getting away rich boy,” Aron growled. Oh, like he was one to talk, his family donated an entire wing to the school.

            Julian rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah?” he teased. “Just watch me.” Julian sped ahead keeping the ball close to his feet. He glanced back at Aron and grinned at his opponent’s annoyance. Just as Julian was about to score he felt something tug the collar of his shirt. Momentarily he lost balance.

            “Going somewhere?” Aron sneered. With his enormous hand he shoved Julian who fell to the floor.

            “Kiss off,” Julian said. He got up and glared at Aron.

            People were now starting to gather around to see what was happening, but neither Julian nor Aron seemed to notice. “What did you say to me?” Aron drew his face closer to Julian’s; he could feel Aron’s hot breath and he tried not to cringe. “Say that to my face pretty boy.”

            “What? Jealous of my looks?” Julian smirked. “If I were you I would be too.”

            “That’s it!” shouted Aron. In a swift motion he punched Julian right in the left eye. Julian doubled over slightly but stood his ground. He tried not to mind the pain though it was hard. He could feel his eye swelling. Was that a good sign? “Care for more?” Aron asked sarcastically.

            Julian responded with a fist straight to Aron’s gut. Aron hugged his abdomen and gasped for air. “You—,” he said. He lunged for Julian and both of them hit the ground. Aron pinned Julian to the floor, a sneer crossing his face. Drawing his legs beneath Aron, Julian kicked the guy in the stomach which sent Aron flying. Julian got up and readied himself for the rabid Aron to come charging at him again.

            “Soldier 7 and Soldier 12, what are you two doing?” Ms. Knox bellowed as she came in between the two boys. Aron halted to a stop before he collided with the teacher.

            “Ummm . . . fighting?” Aron replied dumbly. Julian rolled his eyes. No duh Sherlock.

            “Clearly,” said Ms. Knox dryly. “Okay soldiers; let’s take a trip to the office. I’m sure Principal Reinhard would love to see you both.”

 

“Aron Forge and Julian Lloyd,” Principal Reinhard said as Julian, Aron and Ms. Knox walked into her office. “In a way this is a surprise and,” she glared at Aron, “it is not.”

            Principal Reinhard stood up and gave a stern look at both students, her glasses sliding down her nose. “Mr. Forge, this is the fourth time you’ve been my office this week. I have warned you numerous of times of the consequences of fighting. We have a reputation to keep up. Thus I must suspend you for an entire week.”

            Aron shrugged. “Whatever.”

            “As for you Mr. Lloyd,” Principal Reinhard sighed. “You are on the soccer team and I am required to suspend you from playing but this is your first time to the principal’s office, yes? I will let you off with a warning this time then. Heed my warning though; I will not tolerate any sort of fighting at this school. If either of you break the rule again, you will be severely punished. Understand?”

            Julian and Aron glanced at each other; though they may not be the best of friends the corners of their mouths twitched upward. It was a bit difficult to take Principal Reinhard seriously because she was well, Principal Reinhard.

            “Soldiers 7 and 12 did you understand Principal Reinhard? Answer her now!” Ms. Knox hollered.

            “Yes I understand,” Julian responded. Aron waved his hand at Julian and muttered, “What he said.”

            Principal Reinhard’s brow puckered but she did not bother to chide him for attitude. Instead she turned to Julian and said, “Go to the nurse and get an ice pack.” She gestured to his eye. “And Ms. Knox and Aron, both of you are dismissed.”

            As Julian was about to head to the nurse’s office Aron grabbed his shoulder and jerked him back so they were facing each other.

            “Listen up buddy,” Aron growled. “Don’t think that your butt will be saved again if you pick another fight with me.”

            “Last time I checked I was winning,” Julian replied hotly. Aron glanced to see if anyone was watching and then shoved Julian to the ground.

            “This isn’t the last of me pretty boy,” he said as he walked away.

“Dude what happened to your eye?”

            Julian saw Nate—with his good eye—rush towards him. His best friend looked pretty worried.

            “I got in a fight,” he said.

            “A fight?” Nate echoed. “With who?”

            “Aron Forge.”

            Nate raised his eyebrows. “Aron Forge? As in the Aron Forge? As in the guy who dates the hottest girl in school?”

            “Yeah, the one and only.”

            “Why would you ever get into a fight with him?” Nate’s eyes widened. “Did you hit on his girlfriend?”

            “Hey, he started it,” Julian said defensively. “And no I didn’t hit on Alyssa.” As beautiful as she was, Alyssa was Fallon’s gossip girl. She and her little groupies would spend the entire day analyzing other peoples’ lives and criticizing what they did or did not do. The only person who could rival Alyssa’s mouth was Nate.

            “Why not? I would totally flirt up a storm with her.” Nate had a sly grin on his lips and Julian had the feeling he flirted with Alyssa on a frequent basis.

            “She’s not my type,” Julian said shortly.

            “Is that so? What about Sienna? She hangs around Alyssa a lot, but you’d date her wouldn’t you?”

            “Sure,” Julian said absently as he adjusted his ice-pack. “Wait, what?”

            Nate slapped Julian on the back, “Gotcha’, I knew you had a thing for her.” Julian cursed under his breath. The last thing he needed was his best friend trying to set him up on a date.

            “I hate you.”

            “No, you love me and as your number one friend I already got you a date with your new girlfriend. Tonight at six at The Loop.”

            “Sorry, can’t do it, I have soccer practice.”

            Nate blinked in disbelief. “You have soccer practice?” he repeated. Julian nodded. “Soccer practice?”

            “Um, yeah, I’m the team captain, I have to be there.”

            “Okay, a: you have a black eye. Not ideal for soccer; b: you didn’t get any sleep last night, get some rest; and c: your entire life has revolved around soccer, when are going to take a break?”

Julian didn’t answer right away. It was true: his entire life has revolved around soccer and it ran in the family. Julian’s mom was a famous soccer player in the pro-league (Christina Lloyd—but it’s supposed to be on the DL) and ever since he and Mia were able to walk she taught them how to play soccer. Mia went on to follow her mother’s footsteps and was now a starter for the Seattle Sounders. Julian wasn’t sure if he wanted to pursue a career in soccer like his mother and sister but there was no escaping the fact that soccer played a huge part in his life.

            “I have practice,” Julian said firmly. “Coach Rasmussen will want me there.”                       

            Nate just shook his head.

 

“What kind of pass was that?” Julian demanded to his teammate as the ball bounced outside of the field lines.

            “Sorry,” Julian’s teammate, Rhys, muttered. “I wasn’t able to get a good first touch.” Julian heaved a sigh; so long as he didn’t do it during a game.

            “Okay, I think that’s enough of that drill. Go pick up the cones. Everyone else gather ‘round, we’re going to scrimmage.” Rhys nodded, still a bit ashamed of his bad pass, as he raced off to the corners of the field.

            Coach Rasmussen was on the sidelines with a clipboard at hand, his pen quickly scribbling down notes. He beckoned over the captain.

            “Hey coach,” Julian greeted.

            “Here’s the scrimmage line up I want for the red team, they’ll play against the starters. Hopefully this will be a good enough challenge to prepare us for tomorrow’s game.” The coach stressed on the word hopefully. Tomorrow Fallon Academy would be playing one of the best schools in the state, Branson Academy. Though Branson wasn’t as good as Fallon—Fallon had six state championships to prove it—rumor had it that Branson got ahold of a couple of Olympic development players. They could give Fallon a run for their money.

            “We’ll be fine,” said Julian. “The team is shaping up pretty well.”

            “Julian!” A high shriek pierced through the air and every single head on the field turned to the stands. There on the first row of bleachers was Sienna Lessings. She and a bunch of her friends were waving feverishly; one even had an enormous sign that said ‘CAPTAIN JULIAN LEAD US TO STATE AGAIN,’ in sparkling blue letters. Julian quickly looked away and didn’t dare to meet the eyes of his teammates; he knew all of them would have dorky grins on their lips.

            “Julian! Julian! Julian!” Sienna said. “Come over here now.”

            “I think you’re wanted,” Coach Rasmussen said with an amused look in his eyes. Julian threw his coach a look of despair, but Coach Rasmussen misinterpreted it. He waved his hand dismissively. “It’s okay, we can start the scrimmage without you. I wanted to go over some strategies with you anyway. Besides, the one with the red-brown hair looks like she’ll have an aneurism if you don’t come over. I don’t want to be responsible for that.” Heat rose to Julian’s face and he knew that he didn’t have much of a choice.

 As he walked to the stands he saw a group of girls walk by, one of them was staring at him. She looked familiar; her chestnut brown hair was wrapped in a messy bun, a splash of light freckles that ran across her cheeks and nose, and warm brown eyes. He wondered if she was in any of his classes. The second Julian caught her eye though she averted her attention. He could’ve sworn she was blushing.

            “Omigosh! What happened to your eye?” Sienna asked as he jogged over to her. Alyssa, whom Julian didn’t realize was there, jumped in saying, “Aron said that you got in a fight with him. Is that where you got the black eye?”

            “Yeah.”

            “According to Aron he said that you weren’t a good fighter that you fought like a wuss. But I don’t believe that,” Alyssa said with a smile as she skimmed the boy up and down.

            “I was winning,” pointed out Julian. “But I guess he didn’t mention that.”

            “Now that I can believe,” Sienna said. The other girls around her giggled.

            “So Julian, I saw you looking over at the girls walking by,” Alyssa stated nonchalantly. “The one staring back at you was pretty wasn’t she?”

            Julian was pretty sure that was a loaded question.

            “What? Who do you think is pretty?” Sienna demanded sharply, as she faced Julian, her expression mixed with worry and envy. Julian didn’t respond. “Julian,” Sienna whined.

            “I’m sure he thinks you are much prettier though,” Alyssa added quickly. “Right Julian?”

            “Huh? Oh . . .” Julian didn’t like where any of this was heading and he desperately wished he was playing in the scrimmage right now.

 “Right, Julian?”

            “Look, I really should be going back to Coach Rasmussen. We have a very big game tomorrow and—” Julian said cautiously as he began to inch closer and closer to the field.

            Sienna’s eyes watered, “You don’t think I’m pretty?”

            “What? No! No! I didn’t say that, I just—I—you know, soccer. That’s where my mind is right now. Focusing on our really, really, really big game tomorrow. We sort of got to win that one.” He threw Sienna a smile and hoped that she would be understanding and let him go right now. No such luck.

            “But you think I’m pretty,” she said.

            Julian threw his hands up in exasperation; she was completely missing the point. “Sure,” he said, maybe then she would let him get back to practice.

            Sienna clapped in hands in excitement. “Great! I knew you’d say that. I just wanted to make sure.” She tossed her hair like she was emphasizing her point. “So, are you picking me up tonight or am I meeting you there?”

            “Where?”

            “At The Loop, you know, for our date.

            “Oh. I can’t do that tonight. Like I said: big game tomorrow. Gotta make sure I’m ready to kick some Branson Academy butt.”

            “But Nate said you could. He told me that you wanted to take a break from soccer and spend time with me.”

            And you believed him? Julian wanted to ask. The last thing anyone should do was believe in Nate’s word.

            “Sienna, does the phrase ‘biggest game of the season’ mean anything to you?”

            The girl blinked and Julian thought he saw tears streak down her cheeks. Oh no. Please don’t cry. He wasn’t good with people who cried. “You don’t like me,” she sniffed. She said it more as a statement than a question.

            Alyssa and the girls around Sienna began to huddle up close to their friend and told her to forget about Julian and how stupid and oblivious boys were. Every now and then they would send death glares at Julian. But Sienna soon started to bawl and Julian watched uncomfortably as he contemplated what to do. He wasn’t keen on taking Sienna out on a date, but he didn’t really want to hurt her feelings either. And he definitely did not want the murderous glares he was getting from her friends to continue.

            “Can we reschedule to eight o’ clock?”

            Sienna’s eyes lit up like fireworks. “Of course we can!” she said excitedly. “So I guess I’ll meet you there?”

             “Yeah. I’ll see you at eight.”

5: Chapter Four: Steph
Chapter Four: Steph

Steph was glad that the day was over; she couldn’t wait to get out of Fallon Academy. Not that she had anything against Fallon . . . okay, she actually hated Fallon. Steph found it a huge waste of time. She couldn’t understand why Lady Artemis insisted on attending the school when it had absolutely nothing to do with the Hunters. Steph leaned back against the leather seats as she waited for the rest of her carpool ride to get into the limo.

            “Alyssa, Aron, c’mon,” Hermes complained as he stuck his head out the limo window. Steph knew that he was referring to Aphrodite and Ares using their aliases.

            “Great gods. Why did I have to be stuck with you guys? I’m Lady Artemis’s lieutenant, I should be in the same vehicle as her,” Tara said tautly. She pursed her lips and glared at Hermes, Apollo and Steph.

            Well I’m pretty sure none of us wanted you in the limo either, Steph thought. But a small part of her agreed with Tara: Steph and Tara were the two of the longest—and oldest—members of the Hunters. Yet because the other two limos were full, the two girls were stuck with the last one, consisting of Hermes, Apollo, Aphrodite and Ares. It was by far the worst carpool ever. Artemis said that it was an honor she had so much trust in them but to Steph it still felt like a punishment.

            “Aw, sweetheart, I’m glad you think I’m great,” Apollo crooned. “But you don’t want to be with me?” He flashed her a pearly white smile and wiggled his eyebrows.

            “No one would ever want to be with you,” Ares said as he and Aphrodite came in hand-in-hand. The chauffeur took notice and began driving. “That’s why you’re a lonely, single man.”

            Apollo shot Ares a glare.

            “Boys, boys, calm down,” Aphrodite said pulling out her iPhone. “You’re all pretty.” Immediately she checked all of her texts and her twitter account. She gasped abruptly, “She wore that to school today? With this uniform? How could she even show her face?” Rapidly moving her fingers across the phone screen, Aphrodite muttered to herself, “Sister you are not hanging around me anymore.”

            Steph and Tara exchanged glances of disgust. They thought that Aphrodite’s behavior was an insult to the entire female community: silly, brain-dead gossip girls whom only cared about the latest trends and how cute the boy next door was.

            “Soooo Hunters,” Apollo said. He scooted closer to Steph who in turn scooted closer to the door. “I heard my sister has a fun trip planned this weekend.”

            “That,” Tara said hotly, “is none of your business.”

            “But I hunt too!” he protested. “In fact, since I’m the god of archery if you ladies ever need some help . . .”

            “I will gladly ask Lady Artemis,” Tara shot back. Her cold blue eyes held Apollo in distaste.

            Apollo shrugged. “Just a suggestion.” He turned to Steph. “What about you Mademoiselle Valcourt?”

            Steph cringed. She wasn’t sure if it was his horrible, fake French accent or the reminder of her past. Probably both.

            “There is no reason for me to ask you for help,” she said stiffly.

Apollo shot her a hurt look but said “Well, I am always available—anytime, anywhere.” He winked at Steph. She thanked him with an eye roll.

            No one in the limo said much after that. Steph was glad, she liked the silence; it gave her time to think. Normally her thoughts would’ve run through the hunting trip in a few days. But Steph’s mind wasn’t on the trip despite her enthusiasm. Instead her mind lingered on something else.

            Steph’s eyes flickered around the limo, briefly meeting Aphrodite’s. The goddess gave her a sly smile. Uh-oh, not a good sign. Ever since Steph’s and Alex’s short encounter with the Aphrodite that morning, Steph had had an uneasy feeling. Aphrodite hinted that Alex might have been showing some interest in boys—a particular boy—and Steph didn’t like that at all. As Alex’s friend she would try to be understanding and help her get over this illusion of liking the male species. As a Hunter, Steph could not believe that Alex was straying from the oath. In fact it was the oath that brought Alex to the Hunters of Artemis, the promise that there would be no boys at all.

            “You know, I’ve been thinking, maybe we should get a new pool, the one we have now seems sort of shabby,” Apollo said thoughtfully as the limo pulled up to the mansion. Steph leaned forward to get a better look at the pool. It looked fine to her; much larger than an Olympic size pool connecting to a large circular pool in the way back with statues of the gods surrounding every corner of the patio. There were lanterns strung across from one side of the pool to the other and about a dozen lawn chairs placed in a straight line on the patio. In the corner Steph could see Apollo’s lemonade stand. It was way more impressive than the pools at Hearst’s Castle. Shabby was the last word Steph would use for the Olympians’ pool.

            “I agree,” Hermes said. “There could be a lot more statues of me.”

            As the limo slid to a stop, Ares and Aphrodite immediately jumped out of the limo and dashed to the door hand in hand. Apollo followed, then Hermes, and finally Tara and Steph got out of the vehicle.

            “It wasn’t as bad as last time,” Steph commented. Tara grunted in agreement but her face was still unhappy.

            “Lieutenant Tara, Steph,” Artemis greeted as she hopped out of the limo ahead of them. Though the goddess was fairly small, her presence held much authority and Steph felt herself straighten her posture. “I hope your ride was . . . okay? Everyone made it back in one piece?”

            Steph and Tara drew in a sharp breath; no one could forget how troublesome the last carpool was. The two Hunters nodded and assured Artemis everybody was okay. There was no need to make the goddess feel bad about her decisions—out of all of the Hunters, they probably were the only two who could have handled that carpool. Most of the Hunters fled at the sight of men (especially Artemis’s brother) and Aphrodite.

            “And your ride my lady?” Tara asked.

            “Adequate.”

            Suddenly a limo door slammed shut and Steph, Tara, and Artemis all turned their heads to see Alex running towards them.

            “Great, it’s the wannabe Hunter,” Tara grumbled under her breath. Steph shot the lieutenant a glare.

            “Alex is just as much of a Hunter as any of us are,” Steph replied icily.

            “Hardly. She can’t even shoot an arrow straight.”

            Steph opened her mouth to object when Alex finally caught up to them. Steph’s friend was slightly flushed and strands of her brown hair dangled at the side of her face. Her expression seemed indifferent as she eyed Steph and Tara’s murderous glares at each other.

            “Hey,” she greeted Steph. “My lady,” she gave a slight bow as acknowledged the goddess’s presence. Alex didn’t even bother to glance at Tara. The lieutenant lifted her chin with a short ‘humph’ and then stalked off to the mansion.

            Artemis smiled apologetically to Alex and then followed Tara. Alex didn’t seem offended by Tara’s rudeness but Steph was extremely annoyed. She remembered how she and Tara used to be good friends until the latter was promoted to lieutenant. Tara let power get to her head and became the world’s worst control freak. Steph didn’t tolerate that kind of attitude and the two drifted apart.

            “So how was your ride?” Alex asked as she and Steph headed towards the mansion. “They weren’t that bad were they?”

            “No, Apollo and Hermes were . . . bearable. And Aphrodite and Ares were tame, for lack of a better word. They kept their relationship to a minimum,” Steph replied.

            “And Tara?”

            “Was Tara.” Steph and Alex glanced at each other and snickered. As the two Hunters came up to the grand doors of the mansion, Steph felt a slight wave of nostalgia. The sense of familiarity took her back to her father’s house: it had the presence of a castle that stood about four stories tall and a majestic fountain had stood at the entrance way with a statue of an angel looking down at everyone who came by. The landscape surrounding her old home had been breathtaking and well-cared for. But Steph didn’t have happy memories linked to that house. And she tried her hardest to erase those memories.

 

The living room was occupied by about a half-dozen middle-school girls; they were the younger Hunters. Watching the girls play Wii tennis made Steph feel old. Well, old for being a Hunter. Steph had been stuck at age sixteen for the last several decades. Normally Artemis took in girls between the ages nine and fourteen—what she was known for in the myths—but there had been multiple exceptions. Steph, Alex and Tara were all sixteen, along with four other Hunters. Despite the standard age of the Hunters, Artemis was lenient with the age limits. “As long as you stay faithful to the Hunters’ oath you are welcomed,” Artemis had said.

            Alex was French braiding Steph’s hair while she watched the younger Hunters too. “They’re so lucky,” she mumbled. “They don’t have to go to school.”

            Steph smirked. It was true. While Artemis, Steph, Alex, and the older Hunters and the other Olympians attended Fallon, the younger Hunters had free time at their expense.

            “I’d rather have that luxury than suffer through endless boredom at Fallon,” Alex continued. “That and I need a break from Aphrodite. I already get enough of her here.”

            Steph raised an eyebrow. “Why would Aphrodite bother you?” Behind her, Steph felt Alex tense.

            “I-She was talking to me about Lady Artemis.”

            “Really?” Steph turned around swiftly causing Alex to yelp. “What did she say?”

            “N-nothing. She was just saying nonsense. You know Aphrodite, there’s some sort of malfunction in her brain.”

            Alex wasn’t that convincing, but Steph did not push her friend. She trusted her. Steph knew Alex wouldn’t fall for Aphrodite’s lies. As Steph finished the French braid herself, she changed the subject. “Do you wanna go do target practice?”

            “Sure,” Alex replied, her face relieved that they were off the topic of Aphrodite. “I have to grab my bow though.”

            “No problem, so do I.”

 

Steph and Alex shared a room on the third floor of the mansion. As Steph grabbed her bow from the side of her bed she gave an amused look to her friend; Alex had to dig through piles of clothes and movies and books. While Alex sought her bow, Steph inspected hers. It glowed silver and had an intricate design vines surrounding a single crescent moon carved into the wood. The memory of the day Steph made her bow burned in her mind. It was a rite of passage for the Hunters. It took her about fifteen times to get it right but it was one of Steph’s best accomplishments.

            “I can’t seem to find my bow,” Alex stressed. She bit her nails and frantically began to toss clothes up in the air, hoping that her bow was somewhere underneath.

            Steph tightened her jaw to keep herself from laughing out loud. This was just like Alex.

            “Here, I’ll help you,” Steph offered. “Maybe it’s in the closet? It was last time.” She started to open the closet door when she suddenly heard whispers. They were soft yet haunting. Steph flashed a confused look at Alex who had stopped searching too.

            The gods will rise or fall.

            “What was that?” Steph asked. Alex shrugged. Both girls were staring at the door.

            Darkness . . . old foe . . . renew what was lost.

            The whispers continued, echoing throughout the room. Steph inched closer to the hallway to see where it was coming from. They kept repeating themselves, broken words that didn’t make sense.

            Renew what was lost.

            Steph felt her skin tingle. Then there was a flash of blue light that came down the hallway. Steph’s stomach dropped when she realized whose room it came from.

 It was none other than Apollo’s.

 

Apollo’s room was clean, well neater than some of the other gods’ (from the few glimpses Steph had had, Hermes’s room looked like the apocalypse had rolled in). On the south side there was an enormous panoramic window that overlooked the pool; opposite of that was a long bookcase filled with various songbooks, CDs, and poetry books. The walls were painted a luscious white complementary to the gray carpet; dozens of band and movie posters were hung up, along with electric and acoustic guitars. There was a corner dedicated to Apollo’s various other instruments such as a keyboard, a drum set, a lyre and a tuba. Apollo’s bed was a king sized bed that almost kissed the floor and above it was a humungous painting of him. Steph found it somewhat creepy that on his bedside table Apollo kept a framed picture of laurel tree.

            On the east side of the room was Apollo’s closet which was wide open and held an endless supply of designer clothing. Steph heard Alex inhale sharply as she eyed the life-size Apollo mannequin dressed in the latest fashion style. “Doesn’t he ever frighten himself with all of this stuff?” Alex hissed.

            “I know,” Steph agreed. “You would think he would be sick of looking at that face.” She nodded toward another picture of the god that hung close to the girls.

            Gold blood.

            There were the whispers again. There was another flash of blue light coming from one of the drawers of Apollo’s desk. Steph and Alex looked at each other. Steph wasn’t too keen on the idea of going through Apollo’s stuff but she was curious of where the voices were coming from and what exactly they were talking about.

            Alex got to the desk first and gasped. “What? What is it?” Steph asked excitedly.

            “Gods, look at these,” Alex said as she rummaged through the god’s desk. She held up pieces of paper with Apollo’s chicken scratch and squinted to read them. “They’re his poems. Listen to this:

“Babe you got me dreaming

‘Bout no one else but you

How hot you look in that dress

We’d make the perfect pair, I know this is true

Maybe I’ll ask you out on Tuesday

And we can go on a fantabulous date

Or maybe I’ll just hold back because I know it’s safe that way”

 

            “That sucked,” Alex stated as she finished. She flipped through the other papers. “There are others just as bad. Tell me, how exactly did he become the god of poetry?”

            “Alex, focus,” Steph said. “Mysterious whispers, blue light.”

            “Right, right.” Alex opened the front drawer of the desk and inside was a couple of fortune cookies. “Oh! I love these things.” She took one before Steph could object and opened it. “‘Apollo is the god of hotness.’”

            “And the little respect I had for him just vanished,” Steph muttered. She opened another desk drawer and found a Magic 8 ball. There was a faint blue glow on it. Steph picked it up and shook it. The small blue triangle where typically there would be some sort of answer like ‘yes’ or ‘no’ was blank, instead the ball whispered.

            Twelve connections . . . renew what was lost . . . Twelve connections . . . renew what was lost . . . Twelve connections . . .

            Steph frowned. “Last time I checked, these things didn’t have voices.”

            Twelve connections . . . renew what was lost.

            “It sounds like it’s a broken record,” commented Alex.

            “It certainly is emphasizing a message. ‘Twelve connections’? ‘Renew what was lost’? What do they mean?” Steph inspected the Magic 8 ball in her hands, hoping there would be more clues to what it was saying.

            “Maybe you should ask it a question,” Alex suggested.

            “Good idea. Um, Magic 8 ball, what exactly are you saying?” Steph shook the ball again. The ball started to vibrate and its blue glow swelled, becoming more and more intense. All of the sudden different voices came out of it. It sounded like yelling, but they were only snippets.

            Gone. Everything gone!

            How did it happen?

            What are we supposed to do?

            Disappeared. Vanished. We’re no match. We can’t fight back.

            We can’t win.

            What are we supposed to do?

            Mortals. Renew what was lost.

            The Magic 8 ball grew hot and Steph dropped the ball in surprise. The ball dimmed and became silent. Steph and Alex stood next to each other unsure of what they just heard.

            “Was that just—did that sound like the Olympians or was it just me?” Alex casted her friend a worried glance.

            Steph nodded slowly, scared to believe what she had just heard. The voices were definitely the Olympians’. She could hear the fear in Hermes’s voice and the concern in Artemis’s; she also recognized the calm composure of Athena’s. What was gone though? What happened? Who were the gods against? Why couldn’t they fight back?

Renew what was lost. The Magic 8 ball had been repeating that over and over again. Obviously the Olympians lost something precious to them, but what could it be? Steph bit her lip in frustration. Suddenly there was a noise outside of the room.

“I can’t believe you just replaced me. I am irreplaceable.”

Steph froze. Apollo was right outside his room. She shook Alex, who had picked up the Magic 8 ball and was reexamining it, and pointed to the door.

Apollo, she mouthed. Alex paled and her eyes widened.

“What do we do?” Alex whispered.

“He was new, he needed a friend,” Hermes replied from outside. “’Sides, I like to think of him as my protégé.”

            “But replace me? Me? The Apollo? Dude!  That’s almost as bad as stealing my cows.”

            “Suck it up, that was soooo long ago. You’re just jealous man.”

            “Jealous? Jealous? Of what?”

            “That I am the superior god. Not only did I steal your cows, I have protégé and I also got that hot chick you were chasing after in L.A.”

            “She was into me until you decided to pose as me at that party. I never thought you would stoop so low.”

            “Wrong. She thought I was you and I didn’t bother to correct her. Of course, how she could confuse me with you I don’t understand. I am ten times better looking.”

            “Excuse me, but all of the myths say I am the handsomest god of Olympus. Nothing can beat this angelic face right here.”

            “Actually, you both are quite revolting,” Tara’s voice emerged from the hallway. “I don’t see how the world could even tolerate blockheaded-egotistical-buffoons like you two.”

            “Tara, Tara, Tara,” Apollo purred. “When are you gonna lighten up? I could help you if you want . . .” There was a flirtatious tone to his voice and though Steph disapproved of that kind of behavior, she struggled to suppress a laugh at the thought of Tara’s face.

            “You are just a sad sight,” Tara said huffily. Her footsteps resonated in the hallway as Steph heard her storm off. Apollo and Hermes laughed out loud and Steph heard them high five each other.

            Hermes then murmured something inaudible and his footsteps became faint as he walked away too. Steph watched in horror as the doorknob turned; she had a better understanding of the term ‘deer in headlights’ now. Neither she nor Alex could run away and hide much less move; they were petrified.

            “What are you girls doing here?” Apollo asked in surprise as he entered. He was baffled—a little amused—to find two Hunters in bedroom. “Steph, I know I told you that I’m available for you anytime, anywhere but . . . to be honest I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

            “No-I,” Steph started to say otherwise but then thought better of it. Apollo didn’t really seem too suspicious of why she and Alex were here, perhaps if they could just lie their way out. “I just was curious about your prophecies. Strictly Hunter related,” she added hastily. “I wanted to know how our hunting trip this weekend will go—hopefully there’s good weather, right?”

            Apollo stiffened. His eyebrows bunched together, his lips set in a line of worry. Steph had never seen the god so uncomfortable. “I’m not sure,” he said apprehensively. “Do you really—? Aren’t weathermen better use for this?”

            “But you’re Apollo. Your prophecies are better than any prediction a lousy mortal could do.” Steph looked at the door. They had to get out of here. “Of course, if you can’t do it . . .” She moved towards the door.

“No, no, no!” Apollo held his arm out to block her. “It’s just a small prophecy right? No harm.”

Apollo’s eyes narrowed as he noticed the Magic 8 ball in Alex’s hands. “You shouldn’t touch that,” he said sharply. He swept the ball from Alex’s hands and tucked it inside his pocket. “Next time ladies, I would prefer it if you waited outside my room, and not got through my stuff without my permission. But since both of you are looking mighty fine today, I’ll forgive you two.”

            Steph and Alex exchanged glances. The god went through his desk and pulled out a paper-folded fortune teller. Quickly flipping it back and forth, Apollo opened up one of the flaps. “‘This weekend will have an overcast but it will not rain in the northern part of the state,’” he read. “Well, looks like the weather is smiling upon the Hunters since you guys are heading east. Anything else I can help you with?”

            “No, thanks,” Steph answered. “Now we know we don’t have to bring our rain jackets with us. Right Alex?” Her friend nodded. “Thanks again Apollo.” She attempted a somewhat friendly smile.

            “Okay . . . if that’s all. Wait, here,” Apollo said as he turned toward his desk again. “Take these; I have too many and they’re terrifyingly accurate.” He tossed each Hunter a fortune cookie and grinned, some of his normal-self coming back.

“Remember, don’t hesitate to call Lord Apollo of awesomeness if you need help. Homework, looking hot, hunting or archery, problems with my sister, anything, I am always here. Well, not here here—you know what I mean. I am free of service to beautiful girls.”

            “We’ll keep that in mind,” Steph said hurriedly. She took Alex’s arm and rushed out of Apollo’s room before he could flirt with them anymore.

 

Back in her room Steph absently fingered the fortune cookie Apollo gave her; she hadn’t opened it and didn’t want to open it—especially if it had the ‘Apollo is the god of hotness’ as its fortune. Her mind was whirling with dozens of questions about the Magic 8 ball’s weird voices. She found Apollo’s sudden reluctance to give a prophecy strange too. Usually he was ecstatic about giving prophecies; he loved to brag that he was the only god who could do that.

            Alex snorted as she dumped her fortune cookie in the garbage. “I don’t believe that those things are accurate. It wasn’t even right about the previous fortune.” She looked at her friend. “I can’t believe he actually thought we were there for a prophecy, you’d think he’d be somewhat doubtful. I mean, us Hunters try to avoid him like the plague.”

            “He’s a guy, of course he wouldn’t notice. They’re all oblivious idiots.”

            Alex tilted her head and thought about it for a moment; Steph wondered if her friend was going to object. “You’re right, they’re all oblivious idiots,” Alex finally said, though Steph thought she saw Alex’s eyes flicker to the right. “Anyway, it was ridiculous that he offered help in hunting and archery. As if we didn’t have Lady Artemis for that stuff.”

            “That’s what Tara told him in the limo earlier this afternoon.”

             “And problems with Lady Artemis? Looking hot? Homework? Has his brain been under the sun for too long?”

            Steph gasped. Homework. Suddenly everything began to make sense. The gods. Fallon Academy. The gods had no reason to go to high school, they were gods. But what if they all of the sudden had a reason? What if they had to blend in? Steph’s mind race as she pieced the puzzle together. The Olympians lost something, something so valuable that they had to fit in with the mortal world. Or else . . .

            Steph turned to face her friend, her body trembled with shock. “Alex, the gods lost their immortality.”