Descendants Academy: Young Adult Urban Fantasy, Belle Malory [motivational novels for students .txt] 📗

Grandpa shrugged, looking lost for words. “As you’ve experienced firsthand, Mythos is hard to believe when you’ve spent your whole life around humans. People only believe what they can see and touch.”

The shopkeeper, a curvy woman in a green toga, smiled at me. “Need any help, dear?”

“Yes, please.” I glanced down at my list. “I need magically enhanced pheromones, two rose quartz wands, and a half pound of cloves.”

She nodded and went to retrieve the items.

I tightened my grip around a bottle of red wine, then released it like a stress ball.

A small sigh escaped. The way I saw it, I had two options—either sulk about being away for a year or embrace it. Yeah, Dad and Grandpa lied, my sister and ex-boyfriend sucked ass, and now I had to learn magic I had no inclination toward. But dammit, it was still magic, and this place was miles better than a detention center or boarding school for misguided teenagers. This world was part of my heritage. Better to soak it up and learn all I could while I had the chance.

The shopkeeper came back with a basketful of items. “Here you are, dear.”

“Thank you.”

I turned to find Grandpa busy holding up a string of pearls that promised to make the wearer beautiful beyond compare. He shook his head as he put the box back, mumbling something under his breath.

“Hey, Grandpa?”

“Yes?”

“Before we leave for Arcadia, will you show me where you and Dad lived?”

A slow, happy grin spread across his face. “I’d love that, Sher Bear.”

8

The weekend passed quickly. We stayed at a hotel in the heart of the city, and Grandpa showed me around Autumn Island. He took me by the garden apartment where he raised Dad while he was working for MEM. We ate at several of his favorite restaurants, and he introduced me to a few of his old colleagues. A nice centaur named Ben, and a chatty Athena descendant named Willa. We visited a few landmarks too, historical sites, like the huge arena where gladiators fought with magic, and a few museums—my favorite being the Museum of Mythonian History. The quality one-on-one time was nice. It almost made me forget about Riley and Connor. Almost.

On Sunday, we got my uniforms, which consisted of five togas. Two white, two lavender, and one pale pink. White was universally accepted by the school. The softer colors were to represent House Aphrodite. The local seamstress quickly filled me in on the different house colors, and what could be worn by whom.

Bolder shades, like navy and gold were worn by Zeus. Sea colors, like turquoise and coral, belonged to Poseidon. Black and silver, Hades. Purple, Athena. Earthy colors, such as brown and green, were worn by creatures. And finally, red belonged to Ares, as well as the leather kilts and metal armbands I’d seen the gladiators wearing. I glanced at those wistfully for a moment before shaking myself out of it.

On Monday morning, we took a ferry to Spring Island. The land was beautiful in a raw and untouched way, full of life, plants, and animals. Everywhere where I looked, there were flowers. They bloomed from bushes, grew along vines, hung from trees, and even decorated the walls outside of the Arcadian school buildings. The school itself was intimidating in its size, the buildings just as tall and grand as the ones back on Autumn Island. I took a deep breath as we headed inside the main offices, wandering through the towering Grecian columns.

As the first bells chimed, I found myself sitting in the headmaster’s office, signed enrollment papers in hand. A short bald man rushed in the room, holding both hands to his wrinkled face. “Hold the stars, Franklin Thorne is back at Arcadia!” He wore a navy toga underneath a long white robe, a gold sash around his waist, and leather sandals that strapped up his calves.

Grandpa stood, wearing a grin as equally big. “Titus Waddley. How are you, old friend?”

“How am I? Ecstatic! Especially if you’re here to take up your old teaching position.”

“No, no.” He shook his head, then nodded toward me. “Here to enroll my granddaughter.”

Headmaster Waddley’s bright brown eyes widened. His attention shifted to me, and much like the gladiator’s magic, Waddley’s was strong enough to feel. It zipped through me curiously, smelling studious, like an old library full of leather-bound books, parchment, and fresh inkwells.

“A granddaughter, you say?” Waddley held out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you…”

“Sheridan Thorne,” I said, shaking it. Standing there in my blue jeans and gray zip-up sweater without a trace of my own magic present, I felt unremarkably human under his assessing gaze.

“You’re Daniel’s daughter?”

I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

His friendly expression turned serious, the lines in his forehead deepening. He glanced once at my grandfather, and the two of them seemed to share a private thought.

Weird—what was that all about?

Waddley took my enrollment papers and read through the forms. As he sank into the chair behind his desk, he raised one silver brow. “What’s this? Aphrodite, you say?”

Grandpa rolled his eyes. “Absolutely repulsive, isn’t it?”

The headmaster chuckled. “Nothing repulsive about love magic. I’m just surprised that the daughter of Daniel Thorne would take it up, that’s all.”

“The girl has her reasons,” Grandpa said, still sour-faced. “Recommendation of the Fates.”

“Ah, I see.” Waddley set the papers down. “The thing is, we don’t advise the switching of houses. It’s an unnatural progression to our instinctive magic. Sheridan may not be able to find her place in Aphrodite. Why not Athena?” he suggested. “She would do well there, I have no doubt.”

Grandpa coughed uncomfortably. “The Fates didn’t suggest Athena. Titus, you and I both know switching magic has been done before.”

Waddley considered that. “Yes, that’s true. Matter of fact, we currently have an Ares student who descends from Aphrodite, and he’s performing quite successfully. But his are special circumstances; it’s not something we encourage.”

“Sheridan’s circumstances are special as well,” my grandfather said.