Hades Academy: Third Semester by Abbie Lyons

Hades Academy: Third Semester by Abbie Lyons

Author:Abbie Lyons [Lyons, Abbie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Abbie Lyons
Published: 2019-09-30T05:00:00+00:00


MY LITTLE WHITE LIE about tutoring Raines planted a seed in my mind, and after our next poetry class, I cornered him before he could slink away.

“Hey,” I said. “Raines.”

“What?”

It was not the friendliest-sounding what I’d ever heard, but I didn’t let that stop me. I was still honestly pissed that he hadn’t told me about his exetasis results, and the fact that he kept on skipping classes with some regularity annoyed the shit out of me.

“Remember how I said I wasn’t done with you?” I said. “Well, I’m not. I’m volunteering to be your tutor.”

“I don’t want one.”

“You need one, though.”

He flashed his eyes at me.

“Where’s the lie?”

He groaned. “Why do you even care, Nova? Don’t you have a giant family mystery to solve?”

“First of all, I’m a kickass multitasker,” I said. “Second of all, you know why I care. Because I don’t want to see you throw away Hades.”

“So what if I do?”

“Because you have nowhere else to go, Raines,” I said. “And it’s dangerous to be lost like that.” I lowered my voice a little. “Look what happened to my mom.”

I didn’t know what had happened, to be fair, but even if the worst that happened was that she got ripped away from her daughter, then, well...that was pretty fucking bad.

“I’ll see you tonight,” I said. “Bring your books.”

I expected him to brush me off and walk away, but instead, all he said was “Where?”

Hours later, we met up in the herb garden, where we’d already had a few heart-to-hearts, not to mention a soul binding. For better or worse, it was kind of our spot.

Our spot, I laughed to myself. As if we’re some sound of couple.

The moonlight was startlingly clear, and the black down vest I’d buttoned over my usual casual long-sleeved thermal felt a little warm even for a fall night. Raines approached in an all-black ensemble, sweatshirt sleeves pushed to his elbow and a scowl on his face.

“I hope you’re ready to read some poetry!” I said, with a Morgan-like cheerfulness.

“I’d sooner gouge my eyes out than read another line of classical demon poetry,” he said, only half-joking. “That stuff is the worst. How many poems can one possibly read about equinoxes?”

“Look, I’m not saying I disagree. But you’re in this stupid class whether you like it or not, and I’m not about to have your lack of enthusiasm for sonnets be the thing that gets you kicked out of this school. No way, pal.”

He groaned and flipped absent-mindedly through one of our books, the pages dark with stains and foxed spots from age to the point where you could barely even read the poetry. “I just can’t believe they make us take classes like this.”

“You don’t even show up half the time!” I squinted at him. “What other classes did you say you were in this semester?”

He looked down at the ground and kicked at a patch of dirt. Then kicked it again.

“Easy!” I said. “You’re going to uproot the thornstalk.”

“The what now?”

“The thing you’re kicking,” I said.



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