Shivering from the damp mountain chill, I rubbed my eyes.Vision fading in and out from exhaustion, I kept myself awake by examining my classmates.
We’d done roll call when we’d arrived back at the academy a week ago, and I’d made a point of learning their names.
It was always good to know the people you’d die in front of.
In the front row of the class sat two boys: Dimitrios, mutt to the House of Apollo, and Maximum, mutt to the House of Hera.
Dimitrios was tan and lanky with a dark ponytail. In contrast, Maximum was short with brown eyes, blond hair, and blue highlights. (Also, apparently his parents hated him because they named him after a limit. Who did that?)
In the middle row, next to me, was Drex Chen, the only initiate who was Chthonic and a fellow abandoned mutt.
Cassius, heir to the House of Hermes, who had wings on his feet—which got creepier the more I thought about it—sat ramrod straight on Drex’s other side.
In contrast, I was hunched over so low that my nonexistent breasts basically touched the floor.
The good news was those four initiates in the front side of the room seemed to mind their own business. The bad news was the same could not be said for the three bullies who sat in the back.
Leo, Alessander, and Titus.
Leo, mutt to the House of Apollo, was the muscular boy with the shaved head who’d fallen asleep and laughed with Titus.
Alessander, mutt to the House of Poseidon, was a short, bulky guy with dark hair who’d also laughed.
Finally, Titus, mutt to the House of Dionysus, was the tall skinny boy with flame-red hair who’d taunted me during the circuit.
I could feel the weight of their angry glares behind me.
They weren’t the only toxic men in the room. General Cleandro was at the front desk, idly reading a book, which was probably titled,How to Effectively Torture People While Exerting the Least Effort Possible.
Case in point, a black box sat beside his feet, perfectly positionedso it was on full display.
The box was a constant reminder that Kharon was out there in hisstupidboat, with hisstupidpole, waiting to chase us to ourstupiddeaths.
The intimidation tactic was brutally effective.
Every time the general made a move, I stared nervously at the box.
Its dimensions were imprinted in my brain.
I counted days in my head, although it was hard to keep track of time in the windowless classroom.
Only one more week before a three-day break. Basically six days, because the mentors came at midday last time. So really, it’s less than a week. Easy. Not hard at all. You got this.
General Cleandro looked up from his book, and all eight of us froze and ducked our heads. He harrumphed, flipped his page, and went back to reading.
No one relaxed.
Hunger gnawed at my stomach, and my head spun with dizziness.
You don’t got this.
The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife because we’d been back for about a week, but we hadn’t run the circuit.
Not once.
Dozens of classes, yet neither of the professors had asked us asinglequestion.
Somehow, the anticipation was worse.
