“I am Sebastian Barba.” The three of them snapped their mouths shut so fast, there was an audible sound. He had their full attention. “Son of Hades.”
They leaned in, hanging off their seats, and damned if I wasn’t too. I couldn’t help it. They got me curious.
“I can...” Sebastian paused as though he knew he had us all hanging on with bated breath. “...make creatures out of smoke.”
His hand flashed and a cloud of black smoke appeared. Shifting, whispering, and reforming, it came together in the shape of a magnificent screech owl. The living vapors flew to the sky, and dissipated.
“That’s it?” someone shouted.
Tycho, Nitsa, and Theron slumped, spines giving out with disappointment.
“I’m afraid so,” Sebastian lofted. “I take it this ridiculous exhibition is now over.”
“It is,” Vasili replied, “and valiant attempt, but it was not going to be that easy. Titan class.”
Sebastian left without argument.
“Titan?” I repeated. “Did he do that because he knows Barba can do more than summon puffs of smoke, or because he hopes he can?”
“He can.” Theron’s tone was firm. “A child of Hades has never gotten a power so pathetic. They’ve also never been the friendly, team-player type. He stays under the radar so he can’t be used. Unfortunately, no one gets that option in Olympia.”
I was starting to figure that out.
“Nitsa Castellanos.”
She flashed us a tight smile. “That’s me. Get ready to be shocked and amazed.”
Her friends chuckled and patted her back on the way down. I didn’t know what to say or do. They knew what her power was, and if she was being serious or sarcastic.
Nitsa stepped into the stadium. Skin the color of autumn flushed sickly under the burning sun. “I’m Nitsa,” she called. “Daughter of Hera. I can shape-shift.”
“Demonstrate.”
Closing her eyes, Nitsa doubled over—tucking her head between her legs.
Is she sick?I stood up to help when Nitsa winked out of existence, and a moon-faced cow blinked at me from her place.
The audience burst out laughing.
“ENOUGH!”
I rocked back, falling hard on my ass. Laughs abruptly ended in favor of groans and moans. I would’ve been happy that Vasili shut them up, if it wasn’t his fault she had to do this in front of everyone. I wasn’t surprised to hear his decision.
“Sisyphean.”
The pattern was clear. Any power that could kill or help others kill was worthy of the Titan class. Anything else was useless. Vasili turned down demigods that could sweeten dreams, grow wheat, talk to animals of all kinds, grant good fortune, and fly.
Nitsa shuffled out of the stadium, still in her cow form. A second passed before I realized her clothes were in a pile on the floor.
“I’ll help her,” Ionna said, standing up.
Vasili didn’t comment on her running out, grabbing the clothes, and chasing after Nitsa. “Sirena Cirillo.”
Alexander’sfiancéepeeled herself off his arm. I knew where he was sitting across and two rows up from me. I just did my best not to look at him. Now that I had, I hopped on my chance to study his friends too.
Sirena’s absence let one of the guys claim her seat and continue telling a story that was apparently hilarious. The four of them cracked up—Alexander laughing loudest and freest of all. I could almost mistake him for human, just sitting there laughing it up with his boys. But then I’d remember his face in that cell when he claimed the final choice I had left without shame or remorse. What made him different than the goddess? With the way he ordered people about, destroyed livelihoods, and bragged about his powerful father, he certainly thought himself a god.
“Sirena Cirillo. Daughter of Hera.” She actually paused like she was waiting for applause. Even more shocking, she got it. Sirena smiled and waved to her fans—blowing kisses here and there. “I can also shape-shift, but not to worry, sir. The goddess knew what she was doing when she left the cows for the peasants, and the power for the worthy.”