Dead Lines

12: Where Loyalties Lie

Unedited.

Chapter Twelve

I felt like I was an antelope grazing in an open field with a pride of lions surrounding me. Standing between Janus and Apollo with Shaw at my back wasn’t helping matters either. I may not know everyone gathered at the table but all of them knew me. Some were hostile while others looked at me as if they couldn’t believe I was really here.

And not in a good way.

Their constant stares were making my spine stiffen and goose bumps crawl across my skin. Spotting Andrzej leaning against the railing directly across from me was the only thing keeping me calm and from fleeing in terror. From his position, he could see everything that was going on, probably more than I could, therefore inabling him to keep me safe from any unsuspecting…threats.

None of the gods minded the wolf it appeared. They knew somehow that he was there for my protection and if they behaved themselves, there was no cause for concern. The only person who even acknowledged Andrzej’s presence was Janus who jerked his head in a brief nod when he looked up and found the wolf amongst the rafters.

The gods continued to discuss while I surveyed everything before me.

The table was covered in books and maps of various age and places. All of them were in Greek or Latin, neither of which I knew. I’d been told a while back once you became Elite you were supposed to learn how to write and read both languages. It was assimilated into your regular school curriculum along with several other “classes” the Elite were supposed to take. Everyone also took a standard Elite History class, training instead of P.E., alchemical science, and a few others. By the time you got to high school, your skills were evaluated and the classes you were assigned were tailored to your specialty.

Because I’d turned late, my classes at school were supplemented with lessons when I was here or at the Agora along with extensive training on how to defend myself. My school classes were changed in some areas like my history class was switched from Advanced Human History to Advanced Elite History. They were trying to catch me up but there weren’t many specialized classes on how to be the Virgin Oracle. That was a learning curve all on its own.

Kells was more focused on the training than the book learning. Having died unable to defend myself had struck a nerve with the god when I got back. Not that I had a problem with it. Most of the time, once I read something, I retained it somewhere in my head and could recall it whenever I needed it. Training was much more preferred until I was flat on my in the dirt wondering if my body would be truly broken.

Cecil used to find my information retention fascinating when we were kids and still tended to crack up when I would rattle off random facts when someone asked me a question about something I knew.

Languages were a whole different ball of wax though. I had to actually sit down and learn them, practice speaking over and over. I took French my freshman and sophomore year and found it rather difficult to pronounce some of the words we had to learn. My teacher said it was my accent and the way my brain had trained to speak certain vowels and consonants. By the end of the semester, my father was tired of the constant butchering of the French language and was more relieved than I was when it was over.

I was just glad I didn’t have to take Spanish because rolling the r’s…nah-ah. There was no way I could do that. I knew my strengths and languages was not one of them.

But it would’ve come in handy right about now as Apollo started gesturing to one of the maps on the table. I could barely understand what was being said and was completely hopeless at reading what was on the map he was referring to. So I had no idea what part of the world they were talking about.