The Strangely Beautiful Tale Of Miss Percy Parker by Leanna Renee Hieber

see. Read the following for our next meeting. This book covers basic mathematics I’ve not thought to review in class, as they should already be commonly known.” He handed her the book, open to a specific chapter.
    Percy nodded, feeling very small. “I am sorry, Professor.”
    “Do not apologize. Not all of us can be mathematicians or master chemists,” he replied with a passing, lofty air.
    “I suppose not,” Percy agreed, setting her jaw. She forewent pointing out that she would have nothing at all to do with the subject matter were it not an absolute requirement to continue at the academy.
    “Return with this book next session, and with any questions that you may have. I will do my best to translate.”
    “Thank you, sir.”
    “Not at all,” the professor replied. After a moment: “You are quite proficient in language, then, Miss Parker?”
    “So it would seem, sir,” she replied. She was careful to maintain her modesty.
    “What tongues are known to you?”
    “Latin, Greek, Hebrew, German, French, Swedish, some Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, Gaelic…”
    “Rather studious of you, Miss Parker. Convent education alone?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “You learned all these in your time there?”
    “Mostly, sir. They came to me…easily, as if I had heard them before. But I suppose that sounds terribly strange.”
    “It would surprise you how little I find strange, Miss Parker,” the professor said, tapping his fingertips upon the marble desk.
    “How odd,” Percy mused. “Headmistress Thompson expressed a similar sentiment. In exactly the same fashion.”
    “Did she now?” Professor Rychman smiled slightly, as if Percy had referenced some private amusement. There was an awkward pause; then the professor rose from his chair, towering above her, and Percy looked up, her eyes unable to hide her awe. “Miss Parker, I don’t suppose you might hazard a guess as to the only question you answered correctly on your last exam?”
    “Ah.” Percy nodded ruefully. “‘What symbol crowns the alchemical pyramid?’ The phoenix.”
    Something flashed across the professor’s face before it became again his usual cool, disinterested expression. “Transformative power. Rebirth,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “What do you think of the symbol, Miss Parker?”
    Baffled, Percy considered her reply, unconsciously pressing her hidden pendant to her flesh. “I…I think him beautiful, and comforting.”
    The professor seized on her words. “ Him? How so?”
    “The phoenix myth has always captivated me—the idea that, if something lovely perishes, it might have the chance to rise again.”
    The professor’s eyes were fixed upon her with an intensity she found thrilling. Percy shyly took folds of her dress into her hands; the fabric rustled in the silence that followed.
    “Indeed,” he muttered with an odd sharpness, breaking contact with her and turning away. “Good evening, Miss Parker.”
    “Good evening, Professor.” Percy rose awkwardly and moved to the door.
    “Dream well,” the professor added.
    Percy stopped in her tracks but did not turn around. She nodded slowly, allowing his words to sink in, then opened the door and disappeared into the hall.
    Into Alexi’s notebook went the record of his conversation about the phoenix, another possible clue. But if he was gathering data from Miss Parker, which he shouldn’t, he needed to also be looking elsewhere. He needed to be out collecting probable sources, data and proofs outside in London where a peer was meant to be placed in his path. Prophecy would never come so young, so meek, so unlike the goddess he had long expected. She’d come in a blaze of light, glory and beauty. Not quietly. And yet, something was keeping him rooted to Athens, keeping him looking for the next moment he’d talk with this ghost of a girl…
    Before she knew it, there were the bells again, luring her to the professor. Alarmingly, it seemed to Percy as if no time had passed. Had she