An apple. Not an owl, but anapple.
Shock thunders through me, makes my knees weak and my hands clammy as I turn back to a serenely smiling Dr. Themis.
“This isn’t right,” I whisper, but she doesn’t hear me. She’s already moving away, toward the Aphrodite section of the bleachers.
“Aphrodites, please welcome the newest member of your hall! Penelope Weaver!”
My name hangs in the air as I stand there for a few seconds, speechless with horror. But then shouts and whistles explode through the amphitheater as the entire Aphrodite section surges to its feet. Handfuls of confetti and glitter rain down from the stands as they stomp and clap and jump up and down so hard that the ground beneath my feet trembles.
Or maybe that’s just me.
As I look back down at the apple in my hand, I realize my whole body is shaking.
This can’t be happening. This just can’t be happening.
Not getting into Athena Hall is a horrible nightmare.But getting stuck in Aphrodite is So. Much. Worse. Especially since I’m convinced the ball in Dr. Themis’s pocket has to have an owl in it.
My owl.
“This isn’t right,” I say again, louder this time. “I’m an—”
“Aphrodite.” Dr. Themis speaks over me. “You’re an Aphrodite, and it’s time for you to join your hall.”
She’s still smiling, but there’s steel behind that smile—a warning as well as a welcome. And I don’t know much right now, but every instinct I have is screaming that any hope there is of changing her mind—and changing my fate—rests on me not making a scene.
Which means, at least for now anyway, I’m an Aphrodite.
A shiver of dread runs down my spine as I walk over to the very crowded Aphrodite section on legs that wobble with each step that I take. The only thing keeping me moving—keeping me upright—is the knowledge that this is a mistake.
And mistakes can be fixed.
Now may not be the time or the place to fix it, but that doesn’t mean I can’t sort things out later. Surely if I talk to the head of Aphrodite Hall, they’ll agree I’m not a good fit. I just need to explain that the other ball was mine. I just need to show them that I’m an Athena, not an Aphrodite.
But what if the red ball has an apple in it too? Or worse, a forget-me-not from Hades Hall?
The thought slithers into my mind like a snake, has my already shaky knees threatening to go out from underneath me completely.
I reach out, trying to grab on to the railing for support. But instead of cold metal, my hand connects with warm flesh instead.
“Ellie!” A girl with bright brown eyes and dozens of long, gorgeous braids tipped in red and pink beads grabs my hand and tugs me into the bleachers next to her. “You can sit with me!”
Before I can say anything—or even register what’s happening—she turns to the boy next to her and orders, “Scoot down, will you, Arjun? Ellie needs a seat.”
“My name’s Penelope.” My throat is so tight and dry that I barely recognize my own voice.
She waves a hand. “Penelope’s so boring and serious. Ellie’s more fun. Like my name, Fifi!”
I start to tell Fifi that I’m boring—or at least serious—but before I can, the sky throughout the amphitheater turns as dark as night.
This must be the grand finale Dr. Themis was talking about.
I straighten up in my seat as excitement drowns out my shock. Because if this really is the finale, it means the gods themselves will be coming down to welcome us to Anaximander’s. It’s one of the few traditions my parents were willing to share with Paris and me.
I know I’m not in Athena Hall—yet—but I still want to see Athena.
But instead of the gods like I was expecting—like we all were expecting, judging from the surprise on myclassmates’ faces—Dr. Themis raises her arms as she looks over the stands.
“Just a quick reminder that after the ceremony concludes, you will be escorted to your hall by your hall managers. Once there, first years will receive their room and muse assignments, as well as their schedules. Then there will be time to settle in before your hall parties. Enjoy yourselves, but do keep in mind that classes start tomorrow.”
