“Who—”
He runs off before I can even ask who it’s from. I open the paper and read the scrawled handwriting.
Hildi,
Please come to my office for a guidance session.
Professor Christensen
Guidance?
I quickly change, buttoning my skirt and slipping on my shoes. I grab a sweater out of my closet that I hope will cover the wound on my neck.
Christensen’s office is in a long hallway and it takes a moment before I locate his name on the door. I rap my knuckles on the hard, wooden d
oor.
“Come in.”
I step in the room and see the professor on the other side of a heavy wood desk. He looks tired but gives me a smile. Christensen is handsome, in this realm and the other, with distinguished gray hair and a kind, intelligent face. Morgan and the Guardians trust him and it’s nice to know that someone here is on our side.
“Ms. Axel, come in and shut the door, please.”
I do as he asks, stepping into the room. It’s not very personalized, the shelves lined with leather-bound books and his desk piled high with papers. In both realms he’s a historian, and I have to wonder why he’s called me here.
“Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. His eyes flick to my neck as I sit, and I tug up the sweater, embarrassed I allowed myself to get attacked in my sleep. So freaking dumb. “I should have had you in here earlier, but things have been hectic.” He smiles warmly at me. “Your arrival, instead of the Guardians, has caused quite a disturbance.”
“Why is that?”
“The crusades weren’t supposed to take place in a facility like this. These students? The Devil’s son and a vampire princess? Fae royalty and demon spawn. The crusades are fought by warriors, not the children of royals.” He grimaces. “The gods knew what they were doing, conveniently placing Rupert, a King’s son, and Marshal, a Duke’s heir, in the student body, while the others took their places with the faculty. These crusades are different. They’ll be fought by future rulers, all looking to gain a foothold in the apocalypse.”
I frown, seeing the pieces of the puzzle line up. Except one. “What about me?”
“Yes, Ms. Axel,” he says, leaning back in his seat, “what about you? You seem to be the only anomaly here.”
Heat prickles at the back of my neck. He’s right, of course. Five Guardians were supposed to cross through the gate. Five Immortals came instead. I make number six. “My being here throws things off.”
“Perhaps,” he says, “but the gods allowed you to come. They gave you a spot in the school, transported your belongings. So again, the question is, why are you here? Not if you’re worthy.”
I blink. “I don’t know. I know Dylan asked me to lead these men and keep them on a straight path. And you know they’re not used to freedom and aren’t exactly…used to being around people.”
He nods and rubs his chin. “Good point.”
“The Guardians asked me to come with them and make sure they stayed on the right path. I’d assumed that meant not pillaging villages and going on murderous rampages, but we’re in a more constrained environment. So far they’ve done okay.” If I don’t count the altercation with Luke. Christensen also doesn’t look convinced. “What? What are you thinking?”
“I have a bad feeling about the Immortals.”
“You think they’re going to work with the Lowerworld.” I recall his conversation with Headmaster Gardener.
“It’s something we have to consider.”
“No. They’ve given me no reason to think otherwise. They’ve been honest and open with me. Protective. They seem loyal to the Guardians.”
“Can I show you something?” he asks suddenly.
“Of course.”
He stands and goes to his bookshelf, reaching for a slim, black book. He cracks it open and he flips through the pages, passing drawings and tiny print. He stops at an illustration of a woman holding her hands with palms face up. She’s balancing two orbs at her sides. Chaos reigns around her, like a thick, heavy storm, while she sits peacefully in the middle.