“Thank you for being honest with yourselves,” he tells the class. “Now, we have one more thing to discuss before I dismiss you. And that is the yearly hall competition.”
A cheer goes up from several of the Athenas and Zeuses in the class, including Sullivan, Rhea, and Paris. While I don’t shout anything like they do, a zing of excitement works its way through me as I lean forward, pen and a clean sheet of notebook paper ready.
If this really is my key to Athena Hall, I don’t want to miss one thing that he says.
“As we discussed earlier, seven things escaped from Pandora’s box when she opened it. Which means this year’s competition will be…a scavenger hunt!”
Elation blooms in my belly. I’m good at scavenger hunts. Like, really, really good. My parents always do an elaborate one on our birthdays so that Paris and I can find our presents, and I always find everything superfast.
I always thought it was just a fun game they liked to set up for us, but now I can’t help wondering if it was also their way of preparing us for Anaximander’s. The thought melts a little bit of the anger that’s been growing inside me about how I thought they let us come into this thing totally blind.
“Although something tells me this scavenger hunt will be a little different from what any of you are used to,” he continues as a fog starts to form around us.
We mill around uneasily, expecting the worst, but Dr. Minthe’s voice remains calm and steady as he explains, “While the list of objects is the same for all halls, the objectsmeant for your hall will be marked with the symbol of your god. This is so that all students have a chance to learn the lessons the hunt will teach them—not just those belonging to the house that finishes first.”
His voice rises and falls as he talks, and it’s obvious he is as excited about this hunt as we are. “While each of you will get the list of things your hall is required to find, clues will be revealed throughout the next few weeks only to those who are paying very close attention. Whichever hall finds the seven objects meant for them first will win this year’s competition, so take very close notes.”
Dr. Minthe pauses to make sure everyone is paying attention and, yet again, his eyes find mine even through the now thick fog. Then he holds up a hand and twists it ever so slightly.
As soon as he does, the fog begins to move.
“The first thing to fly out of Pandora’s box was…” His voice rings over the field as the fog moves eerily around us.
At first I don’t get what’s happening, but then Fifi gasps and says, “Look, you guys!”
And so I do, watching in astonishment as the fog stops drifting aimlessly and begins coiling itself into something.
“What is it?” Arjun whispers excitedly.
I shake my head, because I can’t tell yet. I turn back to my notebook, trying to record what I’m seeing.
At least until Fifi hisses, “Ellie, look!” as she elbows me gently in the ribs.
I pull my attention away from my notebook just in time to see the fog form a picture—a girl, crumpled on her kneesnext to a large candle, her face buried in her hands. As we watch, the candle flame flickers several times before eventually going out, extinguishing all light from the image.
Seconds later, Dr. Minthe booms out, “The unlightable candle illustrates despair for us.
“The second thing to come out of Pandora’s box,” Dr. Minthe continues in his announcer’s voice, “is disease.”
The fog shifts again, this time turning a sickly greenish gray that becomes long, branching lines splitting off in all directions.
“Trees?” I whisper, confused about what they have to do with sickness.
“Veins,” Arjun whispers back, his gaze captivated by the long, winding wisps of fog that wrap around all of us. As they do, I swear I hear the pleas of the desperate echoing softly in my ears.
I write “disease” in my notebook, then glance up just in time to see the fog become a syringe. It’s obviously the object we need to find to illustrate disease, so I write that down as well.
This goes on for the next several minutes, Dr. Minthe calling out the names of the next several things—greed, conflict, envy, pride—and the fog turning itself into picture-scapes of every single one: People fighting and melding into one another before dissolving into nothing for “conflict.” Long, grasping fingers trying to grab on to something elusive for “greed.” One person watching another and slowly breaking down for “envy.” And a hill becoming a mountain that starts to crack, stones avalanching down the side, for “pride.”
That one gets me the most out of all of them. The embarrassment I’ve felt at not being chosen by Athena is totally rooted in pride, and as I watch the rocks come tumbling down, I can’t help wondering what, if anything, Dr. Minthe is trying to tell me.
“What is the last one?” Arjun asks, eyes wide and transfixed at the latest mirage playing out in front of us.
“Death.” Fifi and Dr. Minthe answer his question in the same breath.
A chill slams through me as the fog expands to encompass all of us. It passes through me, sinks into my bones. I feel hands wrapping around my throat, feel them starting to squeeze and then getting tighter and tighter until my whole throat seizes up. In front of me, a fog-created book opens and its pages turn, then crumble.
It would be heartbreaking if not for the hands currently trying to choke the life out of me, hands I can’t see but can definitely feel. I reach out, try to grab on to Fifi for help, but one glance tells me she’s in the same predicament I’m in. Everyone is.
