The boss frowned. “I see.”
They moved closer.
I was surrounded.
Nyx tightened around my neck and hissed louder, “I’ll bite them, then you run. Just tell me when.”
Neither man reacted to her threat.
I couldn’t have responded even if I wanted to.
The boss scowled and spat, “Under article three of the test, impersonating a Spartan, and using Spartan blood, is a capital offense punishable by death—are you aware?”
“Holy shit, kid,” Nyx said, “I had no idea...did you know?”
The room spun faster.
“Yes or no?” he shouted in my face, his voice explosive and cruel. “We need your informed consent that you are aware of this. Answer me!”
The student in front of me burst into tears.
Another kid sobbed.
“ARE YOU AWARE?” he screamed, his spit spraying.
I blinked. “Y-Yes.”
Something silver flashed through the air, and my hand was held upward in a vise grip.
A thick needle was stabbed into my hand.
He pushed a syringe.
Silver liquid was emptied into my veins—iciness spread beneath my skin.
I stared at it blankly.
An orchestra played Chopin’s Funeral March.
The Spartan spoke, and it sounded like he was talking underwater. “Per the Spartan Federation’s merit test law, we’re giving youenough purified adrenaline to kill a Cyclops...ifyou’re actually an abandoned Spartan mutt—which is extremely rare—then you’ll survive.” He sounded doubtful as he held up a timer.
“But—if you’re ahumanwhoillegallyobtained Spartan blood on the black market and are lying to me, then you’ll be dead in three minutes.”
He clicked the timer on.
There was a retching sound, and more students cried, which was confusing, since they weren’t the ones who had seconds left to live.
I stared at the needle in my hand blankly.
Damn.
My heart sank.
Charlie’s going to be devastated.
Also, Carl Gauss proved the fundamental theorem of algebra at twenty-one, and I haven’t discovered anything new in mathematics yet. How embarrassing.
The Spartan interrupted my mental breakdown.
