him about the stag, and then the dog. Orthros. I explained what I’d found in my research so far.
David nodded, as if he were memorizing every word. When I finished, he said, “Again.”
I obliged, because I didn’t know what else to do. Our lesson, the stag, the dog, Greek legend.
“One more time.”
“David—”
“Please.”
Lesson. Stag. Dog. Orthros.
When he stood, it seemed as if we’d been sitting for hours. But I understood why he’d made me repeat myself, why he’d forced me to go over the horror again and again. By the time I finished the third repetition, the morning was something I’d read about in a book, a story that had happened to another person ages past. The beast had lost the power to terrify me. I could study it, question my knowledge, live with what I’d seen.
David stalked to the closet. His sword banged softly against the bed as he settled the scabbard around his waist.
“Where are you going?” I asked
“To the beach.”
“None of us saw—”
“You weren’t in any shape to see anything. Not after that thing attacked.”
“Let me go with you?”
Right. Well I had to ask, even though I’d been certain of his answer. I followed him downstairs and watched as he strode down the porch steps, hand firmly placed on the grip of his sword.
It seemed like he was gone for days. It was less than thirty minutes, according to the clock on the mantel. When I saw him crossing the field, no one could keep me from running out of the house—not Tony, not Neko, not the ghosts of a hundred Greek monsters.
David settled his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close as we returned to the house. His face was grave, and he kept his free hand on his sword until the door was locked behind us.
“What?” I asked, my curiosity echoed by Tony and Neko.
David reached into his pocket and pulled out a perfect snowy handkerchief. Unfolding the cotton with care, he peeled back three layers before he extended his palm.
Neko hissed at the item in David’s hand, taking a full step back before he could control himself. Tony started to swear under his breath, a steady stream of curses that linked words I’d never thought of combining.
I leaned close enough to realize that David held a tooth, a great curved incisor as long as my index finger. The surface was sickly white, grooved as if it had been eaten by acid. A rusty stain at the base showed where it had been attached to a massive canine jaw.
Tony was the first to speak. “Caleb must have knocked it out of the dog’s jaw when he hit the thing.” Except he added an adverb before knocked. And he had another word for dog. And thing.
David nodded. “Standing alone, it didn’t have enough magical force to disintegrate with the rest of the body.” He sounded clinical. Dispassionate. Anyone listening to him might think he was delivering a lecture to a bored audience, speaking from PowerPoint slides in an overheated, darkened auditorium, where the projector’s hum lulled the entire audience to sleep.
But I knew David better than that. I knew his perfect control masked an anger so hot he feared he might destroy everything around him—the house, Tony, Neko. Me—if he loosened his self-control even a micron.
Because, along with David, I sensed what the other men could not. Along with David, I recognized the faintest arcane residue on the tooth. I never would have suspected, if I hadn’t first felt in stolen documents, in records David had no business keeping. But I knew that shimmer, that taint.
The tooth, the orthros, had been sent by Norville Pitt.
CHAPTER 7
David finally turned to me. “Well. It looks like the Jane Madison Academy will be shutting down for an unexpected break.”
“No!”
“Jane, you saw that monster on the beach. This time, the warders were able to fight back, and thank Hecate Luke had a knife. But you know as well as I do, that was a close call. We have no idea what Pitt will send next.”
“So you’re just going
David nodded, as if he were memorizing every word. When I finished, he said, “Again.”
I obliged, because I didn’t know what else to do. Our lesson, the stag, the dog, Greek legend.
“One more time.”
“David—”
“Please.”
Lesson. Stag. Dog. Orthros.
When he stood, it seemed as if we’d been sitting for hours. But I understood why he’d made me repeat myself, why he’d forced me to go over the horror again and again. By the time I finished the third repetition, the morning was something I’d read about in a book, a story that had happened to another person ages past. The beast had lost the power to terrify me. I could study it, question my knowledge, live with what I’d seen.
David stalked to the closet. His sword banged softly against the bed as he settled the scabbard around his waist.
“Where are you going?” I asked
“To the beach.”
“None of us saw—”
“You weren’t in any shape to see anything. Not after that thing attacked.”
“Let me go with you?”
Right. Well I had to ask, even though I’d been certain of his answer. I followed him downstairs and watched as he strode down the porch steps, hand firmly placed on the grip of his sword.
It seemed like he was gone for days. It was less than thirty minutes, according to the clock on the mantel. When I saw him crossing the field, no one could keep me from running out of the house—not Tony, not Neko, not the ghosts of a hundred Greek monsters.
David settled his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close as we returned to the house. His face was grave, and he kept his free hand on his sword until the door was locked behind us.
“What?” I asked, my curiosity echoed by Tony and Neko.
David reached into his pocket and pulled out a perfect snowy handkerchief. Unfolding the cotton with care, he peeled back three layers before he extended his palm.
Neko hissed at the item in David’s hand, taking a full step back before he could control himself. Tony started to swear under his breath, a steady stream of curses that linked words I’d never thought of combining.
I leaned close enough to realize that David held a tooth, a great curved incisor as long as my index finger. The surface was sickly white, grooved as if it had been eaten by acid. A rusty stain at the base showed where it had been attached to a massive canine jaw.
Tony was the first to speak. “Caleb must have knocked it out of the dog’s jaw when he hit the thing.” Except he added an adverb before knocked. And he had another word for dog. And thing.
David nodded. “Standing alone, it didn’t have enough magical force to disintegrate with the rest of the body.” He sounded clinical. Dispassionate. Anyone listening to him might think he was delivering a lecture to a bored audience, speaking from PowerPoint slides in an overheated, darkened auditorium, where the projector’s hum lulled the entire audience to sleep.
But I knew David better than that. I knew his perfect control masked an anger so hot he feared he might destroy everything around him—the house, Tony, Neko. Me—if he loosened his self-control even a micron.
Because, along with David, I sensed what the other men could not. Along with David, I recognized the faintest arcane residue on the tooth. I never would have suspected, if I hadn’t first felt in stolen documents, in records David had no business keeping. But I knew that shimmer, that taint.
The tooth, the orthros, had been sent by Norville Pitt.
CHAPTER 7
David finally turned to me. “Well. It looks like the Jane Madison Academy will be shutting down for an unexpected break.”
“No!”
“Jane, you saw that monster on the beach. This time, the warders were able to fight back, and thank Hecate Luke had a knife. But you know as well as I do, that was a close call. We have no idea what Pitt will send next.”
“So you’re just going
Similar Books
