I’m about to stealth-text Haden to discuss strategy when I hear a measured, symphonic tone hovering above my head. I look up to see the Skylord named Ethan standing in front of my desk. “I hope you’re studying the lesson on that contraption and not idling away your time on other concerns,” he says, smiling down at me in a seemingly knowing way.
“Uh, yes,” I say, quickly exiting out of my texting app. A textbook page pops back up on my screen, and I set my iPad on top of my desk to show him that I was scanning today’s lesson.
“Daphne Raines, is it?” he asks.
I nod.
“Can I borrow this?” he says, and his bronze fingers snatch up my iPad before I even have the chance to answer. My heart drops into my stomach like a rock as he looks at the screen. I can see his finger swiping on the surface, as if he’s looking for something. Was he onto my and Haden’s texting? The muscles in my legs tense, getting ready to bolt. But it’s not like I’d get past the CeCe-sort-of-look-alike in front of the door. I wish more than anything that I could see Haden’s reaction.
“What can you tell me about this?” Ethan says, holding my iPad aloft for the class, or maybe just for the other two Skylords in the room.
I look up at it, expecting to see the texts from Haden on display for everyone’s view, but instead I see a picture of a sculpture from our Greek mythology unit. It’s of a tall, thin, curly-haired young man with wings embracing a nubile woman, who is reaching up to cup her hands around his face. The two look as though they are about to kiss.
“Daphne?” Ethan asks, prodding me for an answer. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the female Skylord eyeing me. I’m sure the one named Calix is watching me also, but I don’t dare look toward the back of the room.
My thoughts are too clouded by the adrenaline leaving my body to come up with anything. I shake my head dumbly. Maybe behaving like an idiot will help my cover.
“Anyone else?” Ethan asks.
“He’s an angel,” Bridgette says, her sentence arching up at the end so I’m not sure if it’s a statement or a question.
“Well, he’s certainly divine, but, no, not an angel. That is a common mistake, I’m afraid. Anyone else?”
Lexie’s hand goes up with a confident flick of her wrist, showing her disdain for those of us who couldn’t get the answer. We may be pseudofriends now, but I’m sure she’s happy for the opportunity to show me up. “Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss, by Antonio Canova, circa 1777. It resides in the Musée du Louvre,” she says, accenting her French at the end.
“Very good …” He checks the seating chart on the podium. “Lexie?”
She nods, and I can tell by the melody spiraling up from her that she is wholly unaware of his Skylord status and might be developing a teacher crush. For the moment, I figure it’s better if she doesn’t know anything.
“But isn’t Cupid supposed to be some fat little baby in a diaper who goes around shooting people with heart-shaped arrows on Valentine’s Day?” Bridgette says. “I mean, the dude in that sculpture is kinda hot.”
An amused smile edges Ethan’s lips. “Another common misconception. I am afraid Cupid—or Eros, as he probably prefers to be called—is the mythological god who has had his image most distorted by modern commercialism. He was, in fact, a man, and was part of one of the greatest love stories in all of history. Many of the most famous fairy tales and love stories—Rapunzel, Romeo and Juliet, Beauty and the Beast, Rumpelstiltskin, and even Sleeping Beauty—all find their roots in Cupid and his beloved Psyche’s tragic tale.”
Ethan tells the story of how Cupid fell in love with a woman named Psyche, and how their love was forbidden by Cupid’s mother, Aphrodite. We hear of the many obstacles and tragedies that befell their love and kept them apart. The other girls in the class are watching Ethan dreamily as he speaks of true love, and I am almost distracted from his clutch on my iPad by the absurdity of it all, but my ears perk up when Ethan mentions Psyche’s journey to the underworld. Apparently, in order to prove her love for Cupid to Aphrodite, she was tasked with retrieving a portion of Persephone’s beauty in a box.
“Persephone freely gave Psyche the box and warned her not to open it. Unfortunately, when Psyche returned with the box, her curiosity got the better of her, and she opened it to see what was inside, perhaps hoping to claim some of Persephone’s beauty for herself to further strengthen Cupid’s love. But as soon as she opened it, she fell into a deep sleep, like unto death. None could wake her, save true love’s kiss from Cupid himself. Upon rescuing her from the enchanted sleep, Cupid, with Psyche, fled to Zeus, hoping to find refuge and seek intervention from any further punishement dished out by Aphrodite.
“Now this is where scholars differ on how the story ends. Some say that Zeus granted the two amnesty and convinced Aphrodite to drop her wrath against them. Others say that Zeus was angry with Cupid for allowing this forbidden love to continue, and cast them both out, cursing them never to be together again. So I guess it is up to you to believe whichever story you choose. Do you believe that tragedy comes to those who disobey the will of the gods, or do you believe that true love conquers all?”
It is almost as if every girl in the room sighs at once.
“Interesting side note,” Ethan says, waving my iPad with the picture of the two characters on the screen. “The names Cupid and Psyche represent the ideas of the heart and the soul. These two mythological beings symbolize the two halves of what makes us who we are—our heart and our soul.”
A languid tone swoons through the room from the other female students, but all I can concentrate on is the fact that Ethan has gone back to swiping his finger across the screen of my iPad. If he were to click on my texting app …
I wave my hand in the air, catching his attention. “Mr. Bowman, may I have my iPad back?” I ask. “Um, I’d like to bookmark that passage.”
“Ethan, please. And thank you for the use of your handy device, Daphne.” He sets the iPad on my desk. The screen has gone dark, so I’m not quite sure what he’s seen.
“No problem,” I say. “Ethan.”
Ethan smiles, his large hand resting on my desk. “ ‘Daphne, Daphne, why dost thou run? What grievest thou to be undone?’ ” His words make me feel like my rib cage is too tight, and my hand begins to shake, but his voice is lilting and lyrical, and I realize that he’s reciting poetry. A collective tone wafts throughout the room, another sigh from all the female students. Ethan leans down close to my ear. “Daphne, are you as hard to catch as your namesake?” he asks, his measured tone dipping colder, darker, as he speaks.
I resist the urge to shiver and give him a befuddled look instead.
“You do know that myth, don’t you?” he asks. “The girl who would rather be turned into a laurel tree than to be caught up by an enamored Apollo?”
I nod. “I know the story.”
“Good,” he says, and returns to his podium. He relays the story of Daphne and Apollo to the rest of the class, but I’m too shaken to listen. I’m about to tuck my iPad into my bag when a new text from Haden comes up on my screen: When the bell rings, I want you to take Lexie and walk out of here as casually as you can. Go find Dax. Do not come back to this classroom under any circumstances.
I nod, letting him know I got his message. I don’t dare attempt to text him back, even though I’m dying to know what he’s planning to do.
The bell rings, and I stuff my things in my bag, wondering how I’m going to get past Ethan, when half the girls rush toward the front of the room to talk to him. It reminds me of that scene in Indiana Jones when all the archeology students want a piece of Harrison Ford. I catch Lexie by the elbow before she can join the throng.
“I wanted to ask Mr. McHottypants over there …,” she starts to protest, but I give her the most pointed look I can muster and say, “Hey, girlfriend, I really need your help with … something,” and propel her toward the door.
“Are you feeling okay?” she asks.
I hold my breath a
s we pass by Terresa. She stands up but lets us pass.
“Yeah, I just forgot my trig notes. Can I borrow yours?” I say to Lexie as we exit through the door.
“Sure. I didn’t know you had trig.”
I glance slightly behind me and see Calix coming down the hall behind us.
“I do. Last period. Are they in your locker?”
“Yeah.”
I lead her through a crowd of students heading the opposite direction and then make a sharp turn down the next hall.
“My locker is the other …”
“Shhh. Don’t say anything,” I whisper. “We’re headed toward the counselor’s office. We need to find Dax.”
“Why?”
I glare at her for saying something after I told her not to. “Because your Mr. McHottypants is a freaking Skylord,” I whisper. “And his Skylord nephew is behind us.”
Lexie’s eyes go wide. We turn down another hall and duck into the counselor’s office before Calix comes around the corner.
“What about Haden?” Lexie asks.
“He’ll be okay,” I say. I hope that I’m not wrong.
chapter six
HADEN
I watch Daphne leave, taking Lexie with her, and the Skylord named Calix leaves shortly after. It takes everything I have not to go directly after them, too. But I can’t. Not if I don’t want to blow Daphne’s cover. But what if it’s already blown? What if Calix is tailing them? What if there are more Skylords in the school and he’s flushing them out into a trap? That is a common hunting practice in the Underrealm—make your prey think it’s getting away, when you’re really herding it into the waiting sights of a comrade. I can’t help it. I grab my stuff, and I’m about to follow after them despite my better judgment when Ethan calls my name from the crowd of girls who surround him.
“Haden, may I have a word with you?”
As if he were just going to let me walk out of here?
“I am sorry, ladies. We will have to continue our discussion tomorrow,” Ethan says, ushering the gaggle of very disappointed girls to the door. After they’ve reluctantly left, only he, Terresa, and I remain in the room.
So it is to be two against one? In an empty classroom? Those odds I like better than trying to take on all three in a room full of bystanders. What I don’t like is not knowing what Calix is up to. Nor do I like the idea of fighting in the school, but I will if I have to. I concentrate some of my energy into my hand, preparing a bolt to be flung when I need it.
Terresa advances toward me. I can feel her energy pulsating in the air.
“Terresa,” Ethan says, “you should be getting on to your next class. I need to have a word, alone, with this student.”
Terresa turns her menacing glower from me to Ethan.
“Pardon?” she asks.
“Leave.”
“He’s Underlord scum. He knows what we’re looking for—”
“I am your commander, and I command you to get out. Leave teaching this Underlord scum a lesson to me. Guard the door if you think it necessary.”
Ethan ushers Terresa out and shuts the door behind her, but I can see her silhouette in the mottled glass window as she stands guard. I hear Ethan click the lock into place. It’s not the kind that would prevent me from getting out, but it would temporarily stop anyone else from entering.
So it’s to be one against one? Even better.
Ethan turns toward me.
I raise my hand, a swirl of blue lightning crackling in my hand as a warning.
“I know who you are,” I say. “I saw you watching me in the diner two weeks ago. And I imagine you know who I am or else you wouldn’t have asked for this little meeting. I will tell you right now, I no longer have allegiance to the Underrealm. I am not a threat to you. However, if a fight is what you want, a fight is what you’ll get.”
“I am not looking for a fight, if I can help it. But if you know who we are, then you know what we want.”
For half a heartbeat, I consider playing dumb.
“The Cypher,” I say instead. “You want the Cypher so you can find the Key of Hades and destroy the Underrealm once and for all.”
“That is what the Skylords want.”
“Know this,” I say, the lightning in my hand pulsing brighter. “I risked death at the hands of my own father in order to prevent him from getting her, so if you think I’m going to tell you who she is …”
Before I can finish, Ethan’s hand juts out and grabs me by the throat. He yanks my head close to his as if he is about to slam his forehead against mine, but instead he growls a low whisper next to my ear, “I already know who she is.”
I take in a sharp breath and start to raise my hand to blast him.
“You don’t want to do that,” Ethan says. “Or else Terresa will break down the door and it will all be over.” He grips my neck tighter, but not enough to crush my windpipe. “She’s itching to kill somebody today.”
His eyes flick toward the window in the door. I can tell by her outline that she’s facing the door, trying to watch us through the thick, distorted glass. “I know who the Cypher is. But the others do not. The message from our Oracles was distorted and a name was never given. All they know is that the Cypher is a person close to you. I won’t tell the others who she is, and I will let you walk out of here and go find your pretty blond friend if you make me a deal,” he says, and I realize he’s holding back because he’s putting on a show for his comrade.
I claw at his hands, but not enough to actually cause him harm. “What do you want,” I whisper, “that you think I will give you?”
“I will come to you in the near future, and you will grant me a favor.”
“Which is?”
He shakes his head, indicating that he will not say.
“I am not a fool. I’m not going to grant you a favor carte blanche. My father has already offered me glory and the seat at his right hand as his heir in exchange for the Cypher, and I turned him down, risking my own death in the process. I will not give her to you, nor the Key. If that is the ‘favor’ you are asking for, you best change your mind right now.”
“Impressive,” Ethan says. I almost hear a tinge of respect in his voice. “However, let’s put it this way: either you agree to grant me the favor of hearing me out when I come to you in the future, or I will have my compatriots kill you all now and I will snatch the Cypher up and let them do whatever it takes to get her to lead us to the Key.”
I want to ask him why he doesn’t go through with that second option right now and be over with it, but I don’t want to put the idea in his head.
“That option is a lot messier,” he says, as if he can see the question written on my face.
“Why don’t you just tell me whatever it is that you want me to hear now?”
“The timing isn’t right.”
“When will it be?”
“That depends on you and your little gang of friends,” Ethan says. “Now do I have your consent?”
I don’t get what he means by the timing being dependent on me, and agreeing to his terms may be foolish, but what he is truly offering me is time. And that’s exactly what I need. Time to find the Key, time to figure out how to save the five realms, time to protect my friends.
“Fine,” I say. “One favor, that is all.”
“Wise decision,” he says, and pushes me away from him. “And don’t say a word of this to anyone, not Dax, not your precious Cypher, not even your cat. Say one word, and the deal is off. Got that?”
“Got it,” I say, shrugging the strap of my bag back onto my shoulder. “So what happens in the meantime? Until you come calling for this favor?”
“Act normal. Lie low. Steer clear of Terresa and Calix. Or whatever other cliché mortals use for staying out of trouble. Terresa and Calix are under my command, but the Key is quite the prize, and Terresa, especially, is ambitious. Try not to lead her right to it.”
So many things confuse me that I am not sure how to respond. He?
??d said Dax’s name with such familiarity, it makes me wonder if they’d known each other in Dax’s past life as a Champion. If he already knows Daphne is the Cypher, then why not snatch her up immediately instead of pulling off this teacher charade? And why doesn’t he want someone in his command to get her hands on the Key? Isn’t that why he’s here in the first place? What could he possibly want to tell me that can’t be said now?
“Now, if you don’t mind, this is my free period and I have some lessons to plan.”
He unlocks the door and tries to show me out, but Terresa blocks the doorway. “Don’t you have a class you need to attend, Teri?” he says. She flinches as if that nickname makes her want to punch him. “Now.”
She turns away, and I think I catch a growl under her breath. I follow her out.
“I recommend reading pages two hundred thirty-four through two hundred eighty-five for tomorrow’s lesson,” Ethan says. “I expect a lot from my students.”
The way his demeanor flips so easily from hardened commander to dashing teacher reminds me of Simon and his dual personality. The comparison makes my skin crawl. I notice Terresa watching me in the hallway, so I head for my locker instead of going to meet the others in Dax’s office. She stays a few paces away, pretending she’s looking through her new class schedule. At least two minutes pass as I leisurely exchange the books in my locker, waiting for her to get bored and move on, until the vice principal notices us lingering in the hall and barks at us to get to class.
She leaves, a cross look on her face. I look back at the classroom I’ve just come from and see Ethan’s outline behind the glass, as if he’s listening at the door.
I walk away, not knowing what to make of this seemingly rogue Skylord, nor of what the future will hold when he comes to collect his favor.
chapter seven
DAPHNE
Instead of welcoming us into his office, Dax instructs us to head to our next classes as usual. I’m sitting in US history, my knee bouncing up and down uncontrollably, when a text from Haden finally pops up on my iPad. It’s a group text, addressed to me, Dax, Tobin, Garrick, and Lexie.