"I am most definitely getting too old for this," he says between pants.

I've never seen Damian overexert himself like this.

"Why didn't you just zap us out of there?" I ask, wishing I'd thought of that before running for my life.

"Impossible," he wheezes. The safeguard blocks powers usage in the chamber and the corridor."

Standing over Damian, I say, "That's pretty inconvenient."

I offer him my hand.

He takes it and lets me haul him to his feet. "Inconvenient, but necessary," he says, dusting off his suit. He glances at his watch. "I need to get back to your mother. I trust your friends will see you home safely."

"Of course," I say, sad that he's leaving already. "I guess you can't tell Mom I say hello."

He smiles, like he can sense my sadness. "I'll tell her."

I give him my best smile-but I bet it comes off pretty weak.

"Is everything else all right?" he asks. "Your running. Your friends."

"Yes," I say, glad I can honestly say things with Griffin are fine now.

"And your powers?" he asks. "They are less erratic. Are you feeling more comfortable with your control?"

I bite my lip. It's not like I can lie to him-he'll read my mind and know it's not true. "It's getting better. But not perfect," I admit. "I'm still having trouble."

"You will get there," he says, laying a hand on my shoulder. "I trust in you."

"I know." And I do, really. It's not like I ever expected instantaneous control. "I'm working on it. Stella and I are working on it."

"Good." He steps back and smiles. "And stop worrying about the test. I regret ever having mentioned it."

"No, I'd rather know," I say.

Better to know the demons you face, right?

Oh gods. I hope there aren't demons. What if I have to fight monsters or gorgons or something? What if I-

"Phoebe," Damian interrupts my crazy thoughts, taking both my shoulders in his hands and looking directly into my eyes. "Stop. Worry will only impede your control. Just keep practicing and keep training. You will get there."

I take a deep breath and try for some of Nola's Zen calm.

"You'd better go," I say, thinking calm, calm, calmso he won't read that I'm still freaking out. "Mom will worry."

"Of course." He nods and starts to glow. Then stops and says. "Oh, and tell Miss Matios that if she returns the record she borrowedfrom the archives to my office before I return, there will be no detention."

Then he glows and is gone.

Only Damian could know that a student broke the rules from thousands of miles away. Some principals have eyes in the back of their heads… he has eyes everywhere!

We're lucky he never found out about the time Nicole and I switched places to take fall finals. If he knew she had taken my physics exam and that I'd taken her history test, we'd be in detention until graduation.

* * *

Griffin is pacing back and forth on the Academy steps. Troy and Urian are sitting on the top step, watching him like spectators at a tennis match. On one particularly long pass, Troy notices me in his peripheral vision.

"Phoebe!" He jumps to his feet and starts toward me. "Did you-"

Griffin shoves past him and grabs me by the shoulders. "Are you all right?"

"Of course. Didn't they tell you?"

From the dark look in his normally bright eyes, I'm going to guess no.

He twists to look back over his shoulder and practically growls. "They didn't tell me anything. Except that I had to wait out here."

"Um, I need to go," Troy says, backing down the steps. "I have class in the morning."

"Coward," I taunt.

"Right." He stumbles when he gets to the last step, tripping back in his hurry to escape Griffin's wrath. "That's me." With a gulp, he adds. "Later."

Then Troy turns and rushes around the corner of the Academy, probably heading for his dorm.

Urian, realizing that he's been left to fend for himself, says. "I'll just make sure he gets home without incident."

I cover my mouth to keep from laughing as Urian follows Troy around the corner at light speed. They clearly don't know Griffin like I do. He wouldn't hurt a fly. But-he turns his attention back on me and I'm presented with the full focus of his fury-he isa descendant of Ares. He does a decent god-of-war impression. If I didn't know he had the heart of a teddy bear, I might run away, too.

Instead, I laugh.

"What," he bites out, "didn't they tell me?"

"The identity of the secret e-mailer." I didn't think his eyebrows could furrow any deeper, but they do. "It was Damian."

He jerks back. "Headmaster Petrolas?"

I nod.

"Why would he send you anonymous messages? Why would he send you on a hunt for your father's record." He's still holding on to my shoulders, but his face has softened into confusion. "And isn't he in Thailand?"

"He is," I say, answering his last question first. "It's a long story."

Shaking his head, he glances down and notices the book clutched to my chest. "You found it, then."

I look at the soft brown leather, at the slightly yellowed pages that smell faintly of dust and library-not that I sniffed them or anything. That would be a little obsessive… right? Contained in those pages are answers to questions I never knew I had until a few months ago.

"Have you looked inside?"

I slowly shake my head.

Griffin brushes his fingertips across my cheek. When I look up into his shining eyes, he asks, "Are you going to?"

"I-" I feel the tears line the bottom of my eyes. This should be an easy answer. Of course I want to know what really happened to my dad. Of course I want to see what made the gods decide to smote him-so I can avoid accidentally doing the same thing to myself. But when I have to actually spit out the answer, it's anything but easy. "I don't know. Should I?"

Griffin takes my hand, pressing our palms together and lacing his fingers through mine. As he leads me down the steps, he says. "I can't answer that question for you."

"I mean, I should find out what happened, right?" We step onto the lush lawn, heading toward my house. "He's my dad. I should want to know."

"Maybe," Griffin says, squeezing my hand. I melt a little as he rubs his thumb back and forth across the sensitive spot between my thumb and forefinger. "But if something inside is holding you back, then you should probably clear that up before doing something you can't undo."

"I definitely can't unlearn whatever I read in here." I wave the record in the air. "Once I know, I'll always know."

The important question is"-he lifts our joined hands and presses mine to his lips-"… what are you really afraid of finding?"

He's right. That's the question. Why am I really holding back?

From what everyone has said about Dad's death, he knowinglyused his powers to help the Charters win the AFC play-offs. That violates a major hematheosrule about using our powers for advancement in the nothosworld. If we didn't have that rule, then hematheoswould control the planet-which wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing, but it wouldn't be fair. He broke a rule and he was punished. That's the bottom line. Right?

But what if it isn't? What if he didn't knowingly break the rule? Or what if he hadn't been given a warning? Or what if he was forced to-

"I think…" I start, but my voice catches in my throat.

Griffin pulls us to a stop, tugs me into his arms, and just holds me. He doesn't say a word, doesn't press me to say anything, just comforts me until I get my emotions under control.

"I think," I finally say around the knot in my throat. "I'm afraid to find out that he was given a choice. That the gods asked him to choose between football and-"

More tears.

Griffin rubs my back in rhythmic circles.

"What if he was forced to pick football or us?" I choke out. "And he picked football?"

"Shhh." Griffin hugs me close, smoothing his hand over my hair and trying to calm me.

"I just…" I stammer between sniffs. "I just don't think I could stand it if I found out he'd been given the choice, and hadn't chosen us."

"Listen to me," Griffin says against my ear. There is nothing that says you have to read the record. Ever."

Damian said pretty much the same thing. But I fed like I should want to know. Like it shouldn't matter what I find. I should want the truth.

"Part of me wants to know, either way. Whatever the record says, knowing is better than not knowing." My voice is muffled against Griffin's chest. "But part of me is afraid." I bite my lip. "Afraid I'll lose the memory of him. That it will be forever changed because I'll always know that I-that I wasn't as important to him as football."

"You know that isn't-"

"No, I don't," I say, my voice tinged with desperation. "He might have made a conscious decision to use his powers in football-that would be bad enough. But what if he didn't knowingly use them? That would be a million times worse."

"I don't set why you-"

"Because that would mean deep down in his soul, football came first."

And what if, deep down in mysoul, running comes first? If my dad couldn't help breaking the rules to win, then I might do the same thing. I might wind up with the same fate.

I can't say that out loud. It's too… possible.

Griffin squeezes me tighter, like he can sense my thoughts. Or at least my emotions. Psychospectionis a welcome power at times like this. I let my tears soak into his shirt. I think we both realize that nothing he could say would make this any better.

Because all I can think is What if I have to spend the rest of my life in fear of crossing that invisible line?That's the scariest thing of all.

Chapter 12

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CORPOPROMOTION


SOURCE: HERMES

The ability to use the body to its fullest extent. This power may manifest as superior stamina, extraordinary healing ability, and athletic talent. Can., depending on thehematheos heritage, result in superior physical grace, rhythm, and affinity for dance. Descendants of Hephaestus lack this power entirely.


DYNAMOTHEOS STUDY GUIDE * Stella Petrolas

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"PHOEBE, WAKE UP." A voice penetrates my dream. Then the owner of the voice shakes me awake. "Dad and Valerie will be home in a few hours and you're going to be late for camp. Get up."

I try burrowing under the comforter, hoping Stella will take the hint and go away. Not that she's ever been one to take hints.

"Don't make me get the ice water," she warns.