I thought I had a pretty good grip on my magic already. I’d freaked out and started screaming only when I’d touched Paige’s hairbrush, because the memories attached to it had been so horrible. But what were these other things Metis had mentioned? And why did she look so grim about them?

“What kinds of kids go there?” I asked. “What kind of magic do they have? Are they Gypsies like me?”

Metis looked at my grandma again. “It varies, depending on the student and her background. But the Vikings and Valkyries are very strong, while the Romans and Amazons are very quick.”

Valkyries? Amazons? What was she talking about? Metis sounded like my mom. Next thing you knew, she’d be spouting off about how the gods were real.

Despite my confusion, I focused on her words. “Strong? Quick? What do you mean? Strong like they can bench press a hundred pounds strong? Or strong like Hulk strong?” I gestured at a stack of comic books on the counter.

Metis stared at me. “Hulk strong. Supernaturally strong. Magically strong.”

“Oh.”

That was all I could say. The dull ache that had fogged my brain had burned away, but it had been replaced by a throbbing knot of worry—and more than a little curiosity, too. Even now, even after my mom’s death and my guilt over it, some small part of me wondered about these kids who could do things like me—and what kind of magic and secrets they might have.

I noticed that Metis hadn’t really answered my question about whether there were other Gypsy students at Mythos Academy, but a dozen other questions had already popped into my head.

“But how and why—”

“I’m sorry, Gwen, but it’s already been decided.” Grandma Frost cut me off. “I’ve enrolled you, and Professor Metis has set up your class schedule already.”

Metis reached under the table and pulled out a leather briefcase. She set it on her lap, popped open the lid, and rustled around inside. Then she closed the case and passed me a sheet of paper. I looked at it a second before taking it from her.

I held my breath, but I didn’t get any unwanted vibes or flashes off the paper. Just the sense of its having rolled through a laser printer somewhere before Metis put it in her briefcase. No surprise there. Most of the time, I was pretty safe when it came to touching ordinary things that had a specific function, like pens, dishes, or doorknobs. People just didn’t think much about those kinds of things or leave many vibes on them. The same was true of stuff that lots of people used every day, like the computers in the library at my school. My old school now, I thought.

Once I was sure that I wasn’t going to get any nasty, unexpected vibes off the paper, I started reading. English lit, calculus, chemistry, gym . . . My eyes scanned down the list, stopping on the final class.