Chapter 7 Sometimes All That Glitters Really Is Gold
BECAUSE WE’RE IN THE FRONT row, Paris and I are the very first ones to the center of the orchestra. He drags his feet a little, and I can tell he’s uncomfortable at being the focus of all the people staring down at us.
It doesn’t bother me, though. Not when getting here before anyone else gives me time to watch the other first years—and holy cow, there have to be at least one hundred and fifty of them—slowly make their way down the stairs.
Some of the first years are dressed like Paris, in worn jeans and T-shirts that proclaim their favorite games or bands or superheroes. But a lot of them are actually dressed like me, in the colors of the hall they want to belong to.
I’m surprised to see how much red and pink is floating around—there must be a ton of wannabe Aphrodites in this year’s class. Go figure.
Less surprising is the amount of turquoise and coral. One of the few things my research turned up is that Poseidon Hall is usually the most popular one on campus.
Also not surprising is the large amount of purple and gold out there for Zeus Hall and all the people dressed in blue and white for Athena.
All in all, it’s a pretty good mix—except, that is, for Hades.
Only a few students are dressed in the blacks and grays and silvers that are the signature colors for his hall.
Still, seeing them makes me think of the Hades boy I met earlier, with the obnoxious smirk and the startlingly green eyes. I can’t help but wonder if he changed his mind and came to the assembly, after all…or if he decided to stick with his decision to ditch the first day.
I can’t imagine ever doing that—partly because being here is way exciting and partly because I don’t think ditching goes over very well with Dr. Themis. Like most Zeuses, she definitely seems to be a by-the-book kind of person.
I hope he decided to come. Not because I care about seeing him again, but because I don’t want him to get into trouble.
He did help me, after all. If he hadn’t pointed me in the right direction, I probably would have listened to those irritatingly pushy sparkles, and Zeus knows where I’d be right now.
Not here, that’s for sure.
“Are you deliberately ignoring me, young lady?” Because I’m still lost in thought about how nightmarish it was to actually get here, it takes me a second to realize the deeply unhappy voice asking that question is directed at me.
I blink back to the present in a hurry, only to find a very tall, very stern-looking woman staring down at me with disgruntled gray eyes.
Her face is a pale, pasty white except for the two angry red splotches over her high cheekbones and the pale pink of her pinched, quivering lips.
Her dull brown hair is cut into a sensible chin-length bob, and the severity of her dark navy pantsuit is broken only by a white blouse so starched and crisp that I’m almost certain it could stand on its own.
Her feet are encased in a deliberate pair of dark brown loafers, and around her neck is a simple gold chain.
But none of that is what turns my mouth into a desert or makes chills run down my spine.
No, what has me totally and completely freaking out is the small gold owl pinned to the lapel of her jacket.
This woman, whoever she is, is obviously an Athena. And somehow—though I don’t have a clue how—I’ve made her royally angry.
“I’m sorry?” I say in the firmest voice I can manage, which isn’t very considering the way she’s currently scowling down at me.
She sighs heavily. “Is there a problem here?”
“Um, no.” I shake my head vigorously.
“Then maybe you can explain why you’re standing there staring at me when I’ve asked you three times now to please scoot closer to the middle to make room for everyone.”
“Oh, right! I’m so sorry!” I think about trying to explain myself, but she doesn’t look like she’s the least bit interested in hearing anything I have to say.
So I stumble backward toward the middle of the circle instead—as fast as I possibly can.
The last thing I want to do is make someone from Athena Hall angry.
But I’m so busy trying to get away from the woman that I don’t bother to look behind me and somehow I manage to knock into something big and hard and metallic.
“Whoa, there!” another teacher tells me as she reaches behind me to steady whatever it is I just bumped against.
“I’m sorry—” I start to say again. But she’s already moved on, her long black hair swishing against the back of her flowy green dress.
I try to watch where she ends up, but she’s short enough that she manages to lose herself in the sudden crowd of thirteen-year-olds.
Not sure what else to do, I turn around to try and figure out what I bumped into.
And then freak out when I realize it’s the perpetual flame.
Or, more accurately, the large, wide-mouthed cauldron that usually houses the perpetual flame.
Right now, however, it’s nothing but a giant gold bowl because the fire is currently MIA.
Which is strange—more than strange, really—considering the whole point of the perpetual flame is that it never goes out.
Or at least that’s what I’ve always heard.
Maybe they do something special with it during the opening ceremony to make a big splash.
It’s probably one of the million things I missed when I was chasing those ridiculous sparkles all over the forest.
“What is going on with you today?” Paris demands. But the look he gives me is more concerned than critical.
And I totally get it. I mean, I’m normally the girl who makes no mistakes, and all I’m doing today is making one after another.
But that all stops now.
I take a deep breath and blow it out slowly, determined to get myself together. We’re about to find out which hall we belong to, and I can’t afford to make any more missteps. Athena girls don’t make mistakes, my mother always says. That’s what makes them Athena girls.
So that’s it. No more missteps. No more getting lost. No more separating from my brother and the rest of the first years. I’m in this to win it—and by win it, I mean get selected for Athena Hall and make as good an impression as I possibly can on the hall director and my fellow Athena students.
All of which means no more thinking about Hades boys with moody green eyes or wondering about empty fire cauldrons. There’s too much at risk for me to worry about anything but doing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing right now.
Which is paying attention to Dr. Themis as she tells us what’s about to happen.
As she climbs the steps to the stage opposite the stands, the sun shifts just enough that she suddenly appears to be glowing. Its rays bounce off all that gold and make her look—for a moment anyway—like so much more than a mere mortal like the rest of us.
I glance around to see if other first years are feeling the same way I am, and judging from the rapt expressions on their faces, they are. That knowledge makes me feel a little better, like maybe I really am catching up after my disastrous beginning here.
Just then, Dr. Themis claims center stage. This time, as she begins to speak, no one in the entire amphitheater dares to make a sound. It’s like everyone is holding their breath—including me.
“As we embark together on your new and exciting lives here at Anaximander’s, I want you to know just how pleased we are that you’ve chosen to spend the next six years of your lives with us.
We will expect great things from you and will return even greater rewards.
You will receive an unparalleled education, not to mention entry into a world—and an understanding of yourself—that is, today, beyond your wildest imaginings. ”
She spreads her arms as she speaks, her eyes slowly scanning the crowd as if she is trying to take in every single one of us. And maybe she is. For the very brief second that her gaze meets mine, I feel like she can see every part of me.
A shiver runs through me, and I shrink back despite myself. But then she’s moving on, her golden gaze drilling into student after student as she takes her time weighing and measuring each of us in turn.
The excitement builds a little more with each second that passes—with each student she examines—until the entire amphitheater is throbbing with the expectation of what comes next.
And she doesn’t disappoint, even as she tosses her head back and lets out a laugh that rings like the church bells in my town square—loud and melodious and impossible to ignore.
“You are talented!” she proclaims after the echoes of her laugh die down around us. “And you are strong. Here at Anaximander’s we will polish those talents, and we will make you stronger than you ever imagined.
“You will grow in the wisdom and strategic thinking of Athena, the compassion and generosity of Aphrodite, the shrewd protectiveness of Poseidon, the strength and loyalty of Hades, and the unparalleled power of Zeus.
You will be tested. You will be measured.
And you will triumph, because that is the Anaximander way.
“While the next half hour will determine which of these gods and their human counterparts will best guide you on your journey here, know that wherever you end up, you are there because the gods think it is where you will be most nurtured and most challenged.”
She lowers her arms, and this time when she looks through the crowd, her expression is filled with joy. “Now, let the fun begin.”
She turns to her right, and for the first time I realize there’s someone else on the stage.
It’s the man with the long locs and kind eyes that I saw earlier.
While his skin gleams a warm, rich brown in the sunlight, it’s obvious that—unlike Dr. Themis—he’s just a regular person like the rest of us.
A teacher, yes. But still just a regular guy.
He steps up to the microphone with a wide grin. “I’m Dr. Indigo Britomartis, and I’m the head of Zeus Hall.”
His introduction is followed by an explosion of cheers from a group of upperclassers in the stands, many of whom are wearing the deep, royal purple their hall is known for.
He waves a hand at them in a way meant to quiet them, but the cheers only get louder until he finally lowers his hands in the universal gesture that warns them to simmer down.
When they eventually comply, he continues, “I know we’ve already gone over the rules of the coin search, but here are a couple of quick reminders. ”
Nerves erupt in my belly as I glance over at Paris. He never said anything about rules or a coin search. Just how much did I miss? I start to ask him for details, but I’m too afraid to miss whatever “reminders” Dr. Britomartis is going to give us.
“The Hall of Legends is directly behind me.” He gestures to a long, rectangular building with stained glass windows, a gold roof, and more columns than I want to count. “Your coin will be hidden somewhere in the center hall or the two wings on either side of it.
“Now, there are a lot of you, which means there are a lot of coins. Make sure you grab the one that’s meant for you.
“Don’t take more than one.” He starts ticking the rules off on his fingers. “Don’t hurt anyone. And finally, make sure to hurry. You have to be back in this amphitheater, with your coin, in less than twenty-seven minutes. Or—”
He breaks off with a chuckle. “We don’t need to talk about that right now. None of you are going to be late, are you?”
We all shake our heads back and forth at the same time.
“That’s what I thought,” he answers with a grin. Then points to the large screen at the left edge of the stage.
Instantly 27:00 pops up on it.
“Okay, those are the rules. And now it’s time to get this party started.”
A little twirl of his finger and dance music starts pouring through the amphitheater—just as a flashing countdown replaces the twenty-seven minutes on the screen.
“10, 9, 8, 7—” The entire arena starts chanting the numbers with him. “6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!”
“Go!” he shouts, and all around me kids take off running for the main entrance like their social lives—and maybe more—depend on it.