Page 5 of Dark Gods
Maybe I was worried for nothing. Dionysuswasa bit skittish.
I walked down the stairs and followed the herd to what I hoped would end up being the dining hall. I'd get an odd glance every now and then, and I heard Hades' name whispered more often than mine, but that was nothing new. I'd never even met the guy and he'd been looming over me like the ghost of Christmas future ever since my tenth birthday, when my mother and his father had made the arrangement official.
She was smart to do it back then, while I was still finding my voice and was too naive and preoccupied with playing in the garden to put up a protest. I could technically back out if I wanted to, but that would mean offending 'the' Cronus. While adding to my mother's collection of gray hairs was my favorite pastime, according to her, I didn't want to make her lifethathard.
Besides, I had four years give or take to find a more kosher way out of this and for all I knew, Hades was dreading it just as much.
I could hope.
The dining hall was even more lavish than the rest of the building with long, stone tables and a buffet that lined one entire wall. Servants clad in white suits darted about, carrying trays of gourmet meals for those who didn't feel like undergoing the ordeal of getting their own food. The heavenly aromas made my stomach growl, but I had to find a seat before I did anything about it.
I scanned the crowded hall for a moment before I caught sight of Dionysus, who was already waving to me. I noticed that he was seated alone, a good distance from the cluster of blondes sitting a bit further down the table.
"Hey," I said, walking over to join him.
"I see you're finding your way already," he said with a grin. Definitely a morning person.
"I just followed the herd," I said, yawning. I glanced over to my right. "Who're the viking chicks?"
"Those are the Valkyries," he answered. "They're harmless, unless you piss them off. And trust me. You don't wanna piss them off."
"Noted," I said, catching the glint of the short blade on the nearest girl's hip.
"Come on, let's get some food," Dionysus said, nodding toward the buffet line.
"How long is this place open?" I asked, looking around the room. Students seemed to come and go leisurely.
"All hours, but there are rushes around breakfast, lunch and dinner," he explained. "The upperclassmen have more flexibility in their schedules due to special training."
"Special training?"
"You choose a course Junior year," Dionysus said, handing me a clean plate. "Leadership, Warfare, or Domestic."
Leadership and Warfare made enough since, but the third one flew over my head. "What's Domestic?"
Dionysus looked at me like I'd grown two more heads as he collected fruit on his plate. I went right for the French toast and what looked like a croissant with icing. "You know... fertility magic, entertaining, the arts. 'How to be a Goddess 101.'"
"Fuck that," I said, wrinkling my nose.
"You've seriously never heard of it?"
"No," I muttered. Something told me Mom had intentionally kept that little factoid from me to avoid further deterring me from attending. And I bet I knew what her major had been.
"Don't worry, it's not gender segregated," he laughed. "The Valkyries always pick Warfare, and they always make the final rounds of the Games."
"Oh, yeah," I murmured. The Olympic Games were by far the most identifiable aspect of the Academy, even if they weren't as widely televised as their human counterparts. Gods traveled from all over the world to attend, and having a child who performed well in the Games was a point of pride among the Council of the Gods. Competing itself was an honor reserved for those who'd proven themselves worthy and strong enough to endure the trials of the academic year and secure a recommendation from a faculty member.
My competitive nature aside, I didn't have high hopes of scoring brownie points with my teachers. I'd spent more time in the principal's office during high school than the classroom.
"Thinking of entering?"
"Sports aren't really my thing."
"That's a shame. That vine thing you did was pretty cool," he remarked, setting his tray back down on the table.
"You know, I'm really gonna have to come up with a name for that," I said before taking a bite of French toast. "Technically, it's not supposed to be used for fighting, but I make do."
"Something tells me you're full of surprises," he said in a mischievous tone. "So, do you know what you're wearing to the party tonight?"
