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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 manifestin young hematheos.
DYNAMOTHEOS STUDY GUIDE * Stella Petrolas
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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 cliche, 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 Griffinhave 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 everythingthat 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, donethat."
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 anunimportant 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 Minus' 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."
"Stella," Xander says as he climbs to his feet. After a quick nod, he strides off through the Academy's golden doors.
She watches him walk away with a sad, puppy-dog look in her eyes.
I must be feeling generous or something, because I say, "You should ask him out already.''
"What do you mean?" Startled, she looks at me. "What makes you think I'm interested in Xander?"
"Puh-lease," I say, pushing up from the cold marble. "Don't play innocent with me. I learned your tricks months ago."
She purses out her lips, like she wants to refute my claim. Then her gray eyes flick to the door Xander just walked through and her whole face softens.
"Do you-" Stella has never looked this vulnerable before. "Do you really think he might…"
"You never know until you try."
For several long seconds she watches me, evaluating me. Then she turns on her heel and hurries after him.
As soon as she's gone, I'm thinking about what Xander said. And wondering if he's right. Either way, I need to sort out my feelings.
What if I am just making assumptions about Griffin? What if I'm making a big huge deal out of what he's doing with Adara, when there's really a totally innocent explanation? But if there were, he would have told me. When he told me there was nothing romantic going on between him and Adara, he would have told me what was going on. Wouldn't he?
An image of Cesca flashes in my mind. A memory of last year, when I had a secret of my own that I couldn't tell my best friends.
What if it's something like that?
My head is going to spin off my neck if I keep going in circles like this.
"Hi, Phoebe!" Tansy bounds up the steps.
"Hey, Tansy," I reply, still a little distracted by my thoughts, but relieved to have someone nonconfusing to talk to. "What's up?"
"Ready for camp," she says. "Actually, I wanted to ask you a question."
Shaking off my thoughts of secrets, I say, "Shoot."
"How do you become a runner?"
I look at her and smile. "I don't think a person becomesa runner," I say. "You either run or you don't."
She bites her lower lip, like she's worried about what to say next.
"Do you run?" I ask.
Green eyes wide, she looks up at me and nods. Even though she's only twelve-not fully developed physically or anything- I can tell she's got the body of a runner. Long proportions, a little gawky. If she's got the drive, she could be an excellent runner.
I smile big. "Then you're a runner."
As soon as I say that, she positively beams. "I want to be just like you."
"No you don't," I reply. No one wants to be like me. Not on this island, anyway. At first it was because I wasn't one of them. Now it's because I am, but I'm still different. Higher up on the family tree. Closer to Olympus. Life was so much easier when I was nothing more exciting than a distance runner. "I'm not that great."
"I think you are."
Her voice is quiet and serious, like she just said the most important thing ever.
I study her, looking at me with a little hero worship in her eyes. It's been so long since someone-anyone-looked up to me that I almost don't know how to react. Back at Pacific Park, I'd been kind of amentor to a couple of the younger girls on the team. They looked to me for advice and encouragement. That feels like alifetime ago.
As I look into Tansy's serious eyes, my long-lost big sister instinct kicks in.
"I'm kinda looking for a training partner," I say as we head into the building. "You interested?"
"Really?" she says, her voice full of awe.
Since the position of my current training partner seems to be in question, then yeah. I wouldn't mind having someone else to run with. She might keep my mind off all the times Griffin and I ran together.
"Yeah," I say, trying to play it cool so she doesn't think I'm desperate. "I'm training for the Pythian Games trials and could use a buddy."
We head through the halls of the Academy, toward the courtyard, with her staring wide-eyed and mouth gaping. It's a miracle she doesn't walk into a trash can.
"Is that a yes?"
"Omigods, yes!" she squeals. "When do we start.?"
"I've been training in the morning." I push through the door leading to the courtyard. "Why don't you meet me at eight tomorrow on the cross-country course."
Tansy gasps, "Great!"
"Welcome, campers," Adara calls across the courtyard. She spears me with a vicious glance. "We'll be partnering for today's first exercise. Phoebe, you'll be pairing up with me."
Yeah, great.
"You're not even trying."
I glare at Adara. "Of course I'm trying."
I'm just not succeeding.
"I know how hard it is for you to accept that other people might know something more than you." she snaps, and if I could see her face I know she'd be sneering. "But believe me when I tell you, you're nottrying."
We've been standing back-to-back for the last half hour, with me trying to materialize a hazelnut latte into her hands. So far I've come up with a coconut, a jar of peanut butter, and-on my most successful attempt-a glass of milk.
I've trained my whole life. Physical training-running, weight lifting, nutritional planning-that's all second nature to me. But this mental training is totally different. I'm not used to consciously exercising my mind and my emotions. Is it any wonder this isn't going well?
"Maybe if you weren't badgering me the whole time," I snap back, pushing away from her and turning around, "I would be able to concentrate."
She spins around, her vapid blue eyes narrowing.
"I don't think this has anything to do with your concentration."
"Oh yeah," I say brilliantly. "What doesit have to do with then, your genuisness?"
Instead of answering, she crooks her finger at me before turning and stalking out of the courtyard. Like I'm going to follow heranywhere.
I cross my arms over my chest and stand my ground.
Suddenly, she shimmers-autoports-into place right in front of my nose.
"I have never been more mad at anyone in my life than I am at you right now," she grinds out through clenched teeth. "Unless you want to spend the next three days on holiday in the underworld, I suggest you join me in the hall. Now."
Then, just as quickly as she appeared, she disappears again.
I look helplessly around the courtyard, but all the ten-year-olds are focusing on the exercise, with Stella, Xander, and Miss Orivus closely supervising.
Okay, if Adara wants to have it out, I'll have it out.
Stomping after her, I'm about ready to unleash my tirade when I catch sight of her eyes. They're all red. And full of tears.
That stops me in my tracks.
If she's so mad at me, why is she crying?
"No," she interrupts before I can say anything. "You listen to me, Phoebe Castro. We both know you're not my favorite person on this island, but I'm going to put that aside for the sake of someone I care about very much." She takes a deep breath, like she'scomposing herself, before saying. "What you are doing to Griffin is awful."
"What I'm doing to him?" I shake my head. "I'm not doing anything-"
"You're breaking his heart."
I freeze, midsentence. My mouth drops open. It's not just what she said, but how her voice cracks as she says it. Had anyone asked me fifteen seconds ago, I would have sworn up and down on a stack of gold medals that Adara Spencer was incapable of actual human emotion.
"You've ignored his e-mails and dodged his phone calls. He tried to catch you at home half a dozen times this weekend. He's been running every beach on this island hoping to find you."
I actually back up a step, shocked by the emotion in her outburst and by what she's telling me.
"I'm only going to say this once," she says quietly. "So listen up. Griffin Blake is head over heels about you. He would never treat you the way you've been treating him." Her voice drops another notch, so low I have to lean in to hear. "He would never doubt you."
"I don't-" I almost say that I don't doubt him, but that's not true. Over the past few days I've proven over and over that I do. Not that my doubts are unfounded. "You're right. I-I don't trust him."
"He doesn't deserve that."
What about me? What do I deserve? Lies and deception?
"Then why won't he tell me what you two have been doing together?"
Adara's gaze is unwavering. "Because I asked him not to."
Doesn't that confirm my doubts?
"Not because there's anything to conceal from you in particular." She tucks her blonde hair behind her ears. "Because I don't want anyone to know what I'm going through."
"What you're-"
"But," she says, glaring at me for interrupting again, "because I care about him so much, I will tell you."
I try not to get hung up on the whole because -I -care-about-him-so-much bit and listen to her explanation. In the few months I've known her, she has never been this serious over anything that doesn't involve nail polish, designer shoes, or a halftime cheer at a wrestling match. An uneasy, my-life-is-about-to-turn-upsidc-down feeling settles in my stomach.
"My mother is becoming a handmaiden of Apollo."
Er, what?
I know I look totally confused.
"Becoming a handmaiden is an honor and a sacrifice. The chosen must pledge to serve the deity unwaveringly for the duration of her term. That means she is leaving me and my father." Her eyes well up again, and her voice catches. "She will serve on Mount Olympus for the next twenty-five years."
"Wow, that's a long time to work for someone."
"The worst is"-Adara gives me a weak smile-"she can't leave Mount Olympus during her service."
Holy Hades. I shake my head, trying to wrap my brain around that idea. Nic told me that no one-not even hematheos-can visit Mount Olympus unless they are in service or on trial. Only an edictfrom the gods can grant a day pass, and that almost never happens. That means Adara won't see her mom for the next quarter century.
I try to imagine what it would be like not to have Mom to talk to for that long. She'd miss out on my birthdays and my graduations and my-sometime in the distant future-wedding. There would be races, maybe even the Olympics, every day there are little things that I talk to her about, ask her about. If she weren't around… it's unfathomable.
I should e-mail Mom when I get home.
"Adara, I'm so-'
"Sorry?" she asks with a sad laugh. "That's exactly why I didn't want Griffin to tell anyone. I'm not interested in a pity party. Besides, this is supposed to be a prestigious honor for the family. I'm supposed to celebrate"-one hand wipes at a tear streaking down her cheek-"not grieve."
"So, Griffin has been helping you, uh…"
"Prepare to lose my mother?" She gives a little snort. "Yeah, pretty much."
I try to wrap my brain around this news. Griffin hasn't been romantically involved with his ex, he's been helping her through a tough time. I can't fault him for that, of course. Besides the whole descendant of Hercules obligation thing, deep down he's a sensitive and loyal guy.
I've been so wrapped up in my own issues that I never thought that someone else might be having problems. Adara's life alwaysseemed so perfect, I never once thought she might be going through a tough time.
But why did he lie to me?We're supposed to be partners. Equal. He should have known he could tell me the truth in complete confidence. But he couldn't-or wouldn't-confide in me, which means he doesn't trust me. Not completely. That means that, while he's not completely in the right, he does deserve another chance. We deserve another chance.
"You gave Griffin a raw deal., she says.
I never thought I'd say this, but she's right. "I did."
"What are you going to do about it?"
"I'll fix it," I vow. As soon as camp is out for the day, I'll be knocking on his door, prepared to work out this whole trust thing.
"You'd better."
When she starts to turn back to the courtyard, I reach out and touch her elbow. "Thank you."
She stiffens. "Whatever," she says, back in old Adara form. "If you're over being pissed at me, maybe we can get on with the neo-factionexercise."
Less than a minute later, she's standing there with a steaming-hot latte in her hand.
I spin around, ready for my accolades.
She takes a sip and then snorts. "Nice try." The cup glows for a second and then disappears. That was decaf."
For a second I think about strangling her. But then my common sense kicks in. First of all, I need to focus on controlling my powersif I'm going to pass the test. And second, I don't fancy spending time in Hades.
Sympathy for Adara has nothing to do with my decision to quietly turn around and try again.
Promise.
"He didn't mention where he was going," Aunt Lili says when I ask her if Griffin's home.
"Oh," I say, deflated. I want to talk to him as soon as possible. For the first time in a while, I do notthink the worst. Despite my better judgment-maybe it was her tears or the phase of the moon or a curse of understanding-I believe Adara. "Can you tell him I stopped by. And-" I almost ask her to tell him I'm sorry, but that's definitely the sort of thing a girl needs to say in person. "And that I'll try again tomorrow."
And the day after that. And the day after that. And every day until we're good again. Because what we have is definitely worth the effort-and definitely worth my eating some humble pie.
"My nephew isn't perfect," Aunt Lili says as I reach the door. "But he has a good heart."
"Yeah," I say giving her a confident smile. "I know that." Now.
If my trust issues have driven him away, I have no one to blame but myself.
As the door closes behind me, I think about how unfair I was toGriffin-and to myself-for thinking the worst. After nine months, I should trust him-and my instincts-more than that.
Without thinking, I kick into a jog as I hit the edge of the village. My Nikes pound the smooth stone path with a soft thud, every step I take sends more blood, more oxygen, pumping through me. My worries start to ooze away. Griffin and I will be fine. If he can't forgive me right away, then I'll work to win him back. We're fated. That's not the kind of thing a girl can let slip away.
I'll pass my test. My control over my powers is getting better every day. Last week I autoportedand today I materialized-neofactured-a dozen lattes for Adara,even if none of them was to her exacting specifications, she still gave me the merit badge, (this one has an orange ring of color, a yellow background, and a gray factory-building design. I'll line it up on my dresser, next to the other six, when I get home.)
Tomorrow night, I'll meet my mystery e-mailer and find out what happened to Dad. And maybe learn how to keep whatever happened to him from accidentally happening to me.
Running always makes everything so clear.
Maybe this is why I've been so stressed. Most of the running I've done lately is training runs. All business and focus. No time for daydreaming and working through things while physically exhausting myself. Running is definitely my therapy. Starting tomorrow, I'm going to schedule regular fun runs-training-free time.
Before I know it, I'm jogging toward home, following the path that curves around the front lawn of the Academy. But I haven'tfinished exercising my problems, so I steer off toward campus. A hard run around the cross-country course should do the trick.
Nearly two hours later I'm racing up the front steps at home, exhausted in the best possible way.
Giddy on endorphins, I bust in and shout, "Stella, I'm-"
I stop midsentence.
Lying on the living-room couch, feet propped up on the arm and clearly asleep, is Griffin. He didn't stir when I came shouting into the room. Obviously, he's been out for a while.
"He was on the front porch when I got home from camp," Stella says. She's leaning against the far wall, casually stirring up the fruit in a peach yogurt.
My heart melts big-time.
How could I have been such an idiot? He's made it clear every day in a million different ways how much he cares for me. I was ready to dismiss it all because he was talking to another girl. Because he was helping out a good friend.
I will never be that stupid again. Well, I'll try not to be anyway.
In an instant, I'm sitting on the coffee table at the end by his head.
"I've got some work to do," Stella says, pushing away from the wall. "I'll be in my room. With the door shut. And my headphones on."
I flash her a grateful smile. She's giving us-me-some privacy and I appreciate it. I don't need her to see me begging for forgiveness- she'd never let me live it down.
As soon as she and her yogurt disappear down the hall, I lean forward over Griffin. I take a second to absorb him before I wakehim up. I've never seen him sleep before-his thick lashes fan out below his eyes like exotic palm fronds. There is no sign of worry or pain or the weight of his Herculean obligations. Just pure, innocent boy.
Mypure, innocent boy.
Hand hovering above his shoulder, I sigh. I don't want to wake him up. I don't want to disturb his peace.
But my sigh must have been a touch too loud or too close- or maybe he just sensed I was there-because his palm-frond lashes flutter open, and instead I'm staring into his bright blue eyes.
For about half asecond, his eyes are just as worry-free as his sleeping face had been. He smiles. Then a cloud shadows their brightness.
"Phoebe,'' he exclaims, lurching up to a sitting position. "I was waiting for you."
I smile nervously. "Clearly."
"I mean, I wanted to talk to you." He looks over my shoulder. "What time is it?"
I check my watch. "Six-thirty."
"Skata.I was supposed to meet Dara at six." His eyes pop wide. "I mean-not that I-she doesn't-"
"It's okay," I say, laying a hand on his arm. "She told me."
His eyebrows pinch into a frown and he looks like he's in pain. "I wanted to tell you. You know I did. I just-"
"I know," I say, trying to ease his pain. "You have to help her. It's your Hercules complex."
"No." he says. "It's more than that."
"Then what?" I say, trying to be as open as possible. I won't let there be any more lies and half-truths between us.
"Adara is my friend. Until you helped me work through things with Nicole last year, she was my oldest friend. That's never going to change." He takes my hands and holds them between his, between us. "Neither is the fact that you're my girlfriend."
"I know." I ignore the wetness in my eyes. "I'm sorry I doubted you. I trust you. I really do. But sometimes I just don't trust my own instincts."
"We'll have to work on that," he says, grinning and pulling me off the coffee table and onto his lap.
When he's got me settled, I slip my arms around his neck. "While we're at it, let's work on you trusting me, too."
"Me? I trust you," he insists. "What makes you think I-"
"I saw you with Nicole on the beach the other night." I think back to that night. When I got so upset I'd shimmered myself home. Griffin always said my powers would be affected by my emotions until I learned to master them. "She knew what was going on with Adara."
His brows scrunch over his blue eyes. "You were there?"
I refuse to blush. He doesn't need to know I was hiding behind a boulder. "Why could you tell her the truth and not me?"
His head flops back against the couch. "I didn't tell her," he groans. "She guessed."
"Really?" That's a pretty uncanny guess.
"Interpol could use someone with her instincts. If it makes you feel any better, she was pretty pissed that I hadn't told you." He gives me a half smile. "She let me have it."
Score one for Nicole. She always has my back.
"Why did you think the truth would hurt me?" I ask.
"What do you mean?"
"You asked her not to tell me," I explain. "You said you didn't want me to get hurt."
"No, that wasn't about Dara." He turns completely serious. "You know that research project Nic's been working on?"
I nod.
"She's been trying to find a loophole in our parents' punishment decree."
"Wow." I'm breathless. "Can you do that?"
"There have been a few cases." He gives me a sad smile. "But it's very rare."
Rare, but not impossible. My mind floods with possibilities. If there was a way to undo an Olympic decree, then Griffin could get his parents back. Nicole's parents could be un-banished. Dad could get un-smoted.
"Omigods, Griffin," I gasp, overwhelmed with hope. "Do you know what this means? This means we could all-"
"No," he says, cutting me off. This is why I didn't want to tell you what she's trying to do. This is a one-in-a-billion long shot. The gods are as unyielding as they are fickle, if that makes any sense. They've had millennia to hone their skills at writing unbreakable decrees. The chance that they messed up in one of ours-" He shakes his head. "I don't want to get your hopes up, just to see you get hurt all over again."
His blue eyes are full of the same pain I felt at losing Dad. More,since he lost both his parents at once. But at the same time, deeper than the pain is his love for me. I don't know how I let myself believe that wasn't there.
And because of my love for him, I won't push the issue right now.
"We can talk about this some other time," I say. Relaxing in his arms, I snuggle my head against his neck. "Right now I'm too busy trusting you to think about anything else."
I feel the rumble of his laugh against my chest.
I know he is dead serious about protecting me, about keeping me from pain. I also know that I can't let this go forever. I'm not so dumb that I don't realize what a crazy impossibility this loophole thing is. If there is a chance, though-even the teeny, tiniest, slimmest chance in history-for any of us to get back our lost parents, then I have to pursue that chance.
For now, I'll hang back and let him and Nicole take the lead, helping when I can. But I'll follow this through to the end.
However long it takes.