"I see." Ms. Sybil looked disappointed. "Well, half credit, Ms. Autumn. Hecate blessed the three humans- Raven Oakley, Victoria Crimson and Tobias Parker because they worshipped her and wished to follow the path of magic. They were called the Blessed. When each of them were given birth, their mother got a calling which said that they should be hidden from the world until they were 13 years old. On their 12th birthday, Hecate took them and introduced them to magic. She then made them her followers and thought them the art of magic. After learning, they each earned a reputation in the Old World. Tobias was called the Necromancer. Victoria is called the Diviner and Raven is the Enchantress. However, they became greedy for power and Victoria sliced Hecate to a thousand pieces and cast her down to Tartarus, her eternal prison. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mr. Blitz, would you lead us back outside?"
****
The class drifted off, the girls holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like doofuses.
Ember and I were about to follow when Ms. Sybil said, "Ms. Autumn."
I knew that was coming.
I told Ember to keep going. Then I turned toward Ms. Sybil. "Ma'am?"
Ms. Sybil had this look that wouldn't let you go—intense green eyes that could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything.
"You must learn the answer to my question," Ms. Sybil told me.
"About the Blessed?"
"About real life. And how your studies apply to it."
"Oh."
"What you learn from me," she said, "is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Zoe Autumn."
I wanted to get angry, this woman pushed me so hard.
I mean, sure, it was kind of cool on tournament days, when she dressed up like an witch and did silly spells. But Ms. Sybil expected me to be as good as everybody else, despite the fact that I have dyslexia and attention deficit disorder and I had never made above a C– in my life. No—she didn't expect me to be as good; she expected me to be better. And I just couldn't learn all those names and facts, much less spell them correctly.
I mumbled something about trying harder, while Ms. Sybil took one long sad look at the statue, like she'd been there with Hecate.
She told me to go outside and eat my lunch.
The class gathered on the front steps of the museum, where we could watch the foot traffic along the Felix Old Market.
Overhead, a huge storm was brewing, with clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the city. I figured maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across Zephyrine had been weird since the summer solstice. We'd had massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.
Nobody else seemed to notice. Some of the guys were pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Frostine Diablo was trying to pickpocket something from a lady's purse, and, of course, Mr. Blitz wasn't seeing a thing.
Ember and I sat on the edge of the steps, away from the others. We thought that maybe if we did that, everybody wouldn't know we were from that school—the school for loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere.
"Detention?" Ember asked.
"Nah," I said. "Not from Sybil. I just wish she'd lay off me sometimes.
I mean—I'm not a genius."
Ember didn't say anything for a while. Then, when I thought she was going to give me some deep philosophical comment to make me feel better, she said, "Can I have your apple?"
I didn't have much of an appetite, so I let her take it.
I watched the stream of cabs going down the Main Street, and thought about my dad's apartment, only a little kilometres from where we sat. I hadn't seen him since the solstice. I wanted so bad to jump in a taxi and head home.
He'd hug me and be glad to see me, but he'd be disappointed, too. He'd send me right back to Chivers, remind me that I had to try harder, even if this was my seventh school in seven years and I was probably going to be kicked out again. I wouldn't be able to stand that sad look he'd give me.
Ms. Sybil parked her wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp.
She ate celery while she read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of her chair, making it look like a motorized café table.
I was about to unwrap my sandwich when Frostine Diablo appeared in front of me with her ugly friends—I guess she'd gotten tired of stealing from the tourists—and dumped her half-eaten lunch in Ember's lap.
"Oops." She grinned at me with her crooked teeth. Her freckles were orange, as if somebody had spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos.
I tried to stay cool. The school counselor had told me a million times,
"Count to ten, get control of your temper." But I was so mad my mind went blank. I smelled something like warm cookies and ice-cream and I saw golden sparks.
I don't remember touching her, but the next thing I knew, Frostine was sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Zoe pushed me!"
Mr. Blitz materialised next to us.
Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see—"
"—the sparks—"
"—like it pushed her—"
I didn't know what they were talking about. All I knew was that I was in trouble again.
As soon as Mr. Blitz was sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mr. Blitz turned on me. There was a triumphant fire in his eyes, as if I'd done something he'd been waiting for all semester. "Now, honey—"
"I know," I grumbled. "A month erasing workbooks."
That wasn't the right thing to say.