We share a smile of success. For the first time in my life, a success off the cross-country course feels almost as good as winning a race. Almost. But, like Stella said, it’s a start.
CHAPTER 9
TELEKINESIS
SOURCE: ARES
The ability to move objects through nonphysical means. Ability varies depending on size and weight of object and distance moved. May be combined with Aerokinesis to magnify strength of ability. Generally the first power to manifest in young hematheos.
DYNAMOTHEOS STUDY GUIDE © Stella Petrolas
MONDAY MORNING I show up on the Academy steps early. Not that I’m eager for camp or anything, but after spending all last night—and the three previous nights—trying to get to sleep, I just couldn’t stare at my ceiling a minute longer. At first I thought the Internet could be my diversion. But I finally disconnected Saturday afternoon after another unprintable blocked message and after moving the fifth e-mail from Griffin, unread, into the “Liars” folder. Even running myself to the point of exhaustion three days in a row hadn’t helped.
At least camp will be a welcome distraction.
“Never thought I’d see you here early.”
I turn at the sound of Xander’s voice.
“Yeah, I could say the same about you,” I say, leaning my head back against the cold marble column.
I hear his footsteps approach and then the sounds of him sitting next to me, but don’t open my eyes. With exactly zero hours of sleep and coming down from a weekend-long emotional roller coaster, I’m not in the mood.
Apparently, though, he’s not sensing my go-away vibes.
“Trouble in paradise?” he asks. Despite the cliché, he sounds serious.
“What do you care?”
“I don’t.”
I feel him lean back next to me against the column.
“Good,” I say.
For a minute I think he’s not going to say anything else. “Unless it’s affecting your powers training.”
Prying an eye open, I ask, “I beg your pardon?”
“If your problems with Blake are going to get in the way of your development, then we need to deal with this.”
“My problems with Blake—” I shake my head, “with Griffin have nothing to do with my powers.”
“You don’t think so?” He sounds all superior. Maybe he and Stella have more in common than I thought. “Let me tell you from experience that everything that affects your emotions affects your powers.”
Right. I almost forgot about his experience.
My spine stiffens as I turn my full attention on him. “Which reminds me,” I snap. “You could explain a little more about the test—and the consequences of failing it—since you’ve, you know, done that.”
His lavender eyes burn brighter for a second, but he doesn’t betray any other reaction.
“My experience has nothing to do with yours,” he says, his voice sincere. “The gods play their games as they see fit, and what happened to me is completely removed from whatever will happen to you. It is intensely personal.”
“It could still be useful,” I insist, “if I had some hint of what to expect.”
I mean, seriously. The solstice is just days away. And even though I earned a handful of merit badges last week—mostly by accident—I feel completely unprepared. My minor success with Stella’s pen isn’t exactly a guarantee of success. After Xander’s cryptic I-hope-you-never-find-out-about-the-consequences comment, getting smoted for accidental powers usage is losing ground on the fear scale in the face of suffering some unknown punishment for failing the test.
“Fine,” he says with a sigh. “But it won’t help you.”
“We’ll see.”
“It was an unimportant Thursday in Level 10.” His eyes get a faraway look, and it’s like he’s not here anymore. “The girl I’d been dating for three years walked up to me in the cafeteria and, in front of the entire school, announced she was dumping me for some descendant of Zeus because he was better-looking.”
I blink at him a few times. When he doesn’t continue, I say, “And . . .”
“And thirty seconds later, she and the new guy were deep in the heart of King Minos’ labyrinth.”
That seems like a bit of an overreaction.
“As I said, the test is intensely personal.” He rubs a hand over his face, like he’s suddenly very tired. “For anyone else, that wouldn’t have been a big deal. For me . . . well, let’s just say my family history makes me kind of sensitive about superficial stuff.”
“Oh-kay . . .”
“My emotions got the better of me that day,” he says. “And I spent the next ten months paying for the lapse. Without Stella’s help, I’d probably still be there. If Blake is messing with your emotions, we need to take care of it.”
There is something ominous in his tone.
“I don’t need your—or anybody else’s—help when it comes to Griffin.”
“I’m not trying to provoke you, Phoebe,” he says, leveling his hypnotic lavender gaze on me. “Just keep in mind that sometimes when you tell yourself things are fine, you’re really just driving the tough stuff even deeper.”
“Good morning, Xander,” Stella’s extra-cheerful voice calls out, breaking the spell of his mesmerizing eyes. As she reaches our spot at the base of the column, she looks at me. “Phoebe.”