Читать книгу 10th Muse: Blade of Medusa - Darren G. Davis - Страница 4

You know that feeling you get at the end of the school

year? When the days grow more beautiful by the moment,

and the last thing you want to do is stay inside, especially if that

inside is a school? That’s how Emma Sonnet felt this morning.

Emma did enjoy school, however. She was keen on learn-

ing, especially art and history. Math threw her for a loop now

and then, but she had to admit that she liked the challenge. Best

of all though, school was the place where she was guaranteed to

see her friends on a daily basis.

Today was different from most days at the end of the year.

Today was field trip day, something Emma felt she much need-

ed and deserved. This meant she and her classmates got to get

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out of school for a while. Even though school was almost out

for the summer anyway, any time away from the grind was a

treat.

They were going to a San Francisco art museum called the

Legion of Honor. This didn’t thrill every student in the group,

but it was a place Emma loved to visit.

Plus, her two best friends were there: Dawn and Brett. The

three had been friends since freshman year, and they shared

many of the same classes and the same sense of humor. But

this past year, they shared something much, much greater.

A secret.

Emma was more that your typical high school teen. By day

she appeared to be an average teenage girl, but by night — she

dressed up in a modified gymnastics suit and fought crime.

Really!

When Emma revealed her secret to her friends, she knew it

was an unbelievable story. And that was just the tip of the ice

cream cone.

Here’s the scoop: Emma was the embodiment of a Muse

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from the ancient days of Greece when the gods and mortals

walked hand and hand. Anyone who studied Greek mythology

knew about the nine Muses, each of whom helped to inspire an

art form. But none knew of the 10th Muse — the inspiration for

justice.

At that moment, however, she, Emma, was methodically

ripping pictures of various boy bands off her locker.

“Is your dream boy getting married?” her friend Dawn

asked.

“No,” Emma explained. “It’s just that on the last day of

school I want to get out of here as soon as that bell rings.”

“You know we still have two weeks,” Dawn said, “and they

include those little things called finals?”

“I know. And I’m sure I’ll be twice as busy as the rest of you

then.”

Dawn knew exactly what she meant. She understood that

Emma’s responsibility as the Muse meant she had to patrol the

city at night, trying to right any wrongs. And somehow, after

doing all that, she still managed to be on Honor Roll.

Dawn was smart too; most of her free time was spent in the

pages of a book. And speaking of reading — Dawn knew a lit-

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tle more about comic books than the average high school girl.

She also read and collected many novels, including her favorite

genre: science fiction.

Dawn was not much on the popularity scene, however. A

bridge of freckles crossed the top of her cheekbones and over

her nose. She dressed in darker, unusual clothes and dyed her

red hair lots of colors.

Emma, on the other hand, could have easily played the pop-

ularity game. She had the looks: long, blond hair. Sparking blue

eyes. Plus a warm and welcoming smile. She also had the per-

sonality — she could talk to anyone about anything. But she

wasn’t into “ being popular.” It just never felt like her scene.

“I just can’t wait for this year to be over,” Emma admitted

to her friend.

Dawn was surprised. “But you love school.”

“I do,” said Emma, “but I need a break. A little Emma

Time.”

“Guess we all need a little Emma Time,” Dawn agreed, “but

at least we have the field trip today.”

“And let me tell you how excited I am about that.”

“How excited are you?” their friend Brett shouted from

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down the hall.

To most people at the school, Brett was considered a geek

or a nerd. Probably because of his small stature, thick horn-

rimmed glasses and smarts. But for those who really got to

know him, they saw another side: a funny, sarcastic young man

with a heart of gold.

“Oh good,” Brett said, as he checked out Emma’s empty

locker. “All the boy bands are gone.”

It was a buddy thing: they all shared their lockers with each

other. Whoever had a class closest to one of the three lockers

stashed his/her books there.

“Emma’s getting ready for the last day of school,” Dawn

informed him.

“She’s a little early, isn’t she?” said Brett.

“I think she’s trying to be prepared for a change.”

“Our Emma?” Brett sounded surprised.

“Why are my friends talking about me as if I wasn’t here?”

said Emma.

But before they could answer, their attention was drawn to

the end of the hall as the doors burst open and Grayson Bishop

swaggered in.

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He was never one for a quiet entrance.

Grayson was the most arrogant guy in school. He was cap-

tain of the wrestling team and one of the best football players in

school. He was perfect in everything — just ask him — and he

wouldn’t let you forget it. It also didn’t help that his parents

were rich socialites, who spoiled him like crazy.

At one time, all the other jocks of the school would gather

around him as if he were king. But after certain events earlier

that year, most of them now kept their distance. They were

thrilled to play sports with him, but nobody wanted to be his pal

anymore.

But Grayson didn’t notice. He assumed all the guys wanted

to be his friend and all the girls wanted to go out with him.

These days, most of the students just wanted him as a casual

acquaintance.

Grayson was a good-looking guy. His deep brown eyes

highlighted his boyish face. His slick black hair had a streak of

white in the front, a trademark since he was born. He had a

wrestler’s build: a large, muscular upper body and firm legs.

To top it off, he always wore the latest, most expensive

clothes. And on his right hand, his high school ring glistened in

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the sunlight, his own personal icon as the school’s pride and joy.

“Don’t make eye contact,” Emma warned her friends.

“Don’t make eye contact.”

“Hello, Emma.” Grayson approached her, ignoring Brett

and Dawn. “Would you like to be my partner on today’s field

trip?”

“I don’t think we’ve had to do the partners thing since sixth

grade,” Emma informed him.

“Then let me be your guide. My family practically paid for

the entire museum.”

Emma didn’t believe that, but she learned long ago that it

wasn’t worth arguing with Grayson. “I’ve already got my

guides.” She motioned to Brett and Dawn.

“You really need to hang around with more influential peo-

ple,” said Grayson.

“I do,” Emma agreed. “When they show up, can you intro-

duce them to me?”

“ T h e r e ’s gonna come a time when you’ll need me,”

Grayson said, “and if you keep treating me this way, I may not

be there.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to open that jar of pickles by

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myself,” Emma joked.

“You can try running it under hot water,” Brett said. “I

found that always works.”

“Or pound the lid on the counter,” countered Dawn. “That

should loosen that baby up.”

“Maybe I should write this down.” Emma leaned into her

locker and reached for her notebook.

“You guys really are a bunch of nerds,” Grayson said as he

turned to walk away.

The three of them began laughing. Grayson didn’t let on if

he had heard them or not.

“ So you’re not going to miss our daily fun with Grayson?”

Dawn asked.

“No,” said Emma. “I won’t miss that at all.”

She closed the locker and they all headed for their separate

homerooms.

The field trip was scheduled for second period. It would be

chaperoned by Emma’s first-period history teacher, Mr. Coco,

and her old Western Civilization teacher, Mr. Rivers.

Mr. Rivers was Emma’s favorite teacher. Emma enjoyed

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learning about ancient history and Mr. Rivers always made it

interesting. He appreciated having a student excited about the

world of the past.

Dawn suspected that Emma had a crush on Mr. Rivers.

Emma vehemently denied it. But they all feared that recent

events had made Mr. Rivers suspicious about Emma’s noctur-

nal activities.

Emma’s first class felt as if it might last a century. Mr. Coco

was reviewing some high points of the museum’s collection and

their roots in what they’d studied that year. The moment the bell

rang, Emma raced for the door.

Dawn and Brett were right behind her.

“Where’s the fire?” Mr. Rivers asked them as they flew

through the doors to the courtyard towards the waiting bus.

“It’s museum day!” Emma exclaimed.

“Good to see you’re excited,” Mr. Rivers said. “And I’m

sure that has nothing to do with you missing the rest of your

classes today.”

“No,” Emma replied. “ Not at all.”

To their horrible surprise, Grayson Bishop was already on

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the bus.

“I saved a seat for you, Emma,” he called out of his open

window.

Which was pretty funny, since he was the only one on the

bus at that moment.

Emma ignored him and took a seat with Dawn. Brett took

the seat in front of them and turned around to chat.

Slowly, the other students filed onto the bus. It was a rela-

tively small group — they’d all just fit on one bus — all select-

ed by Mr. Coco and Mr. Rivers, students they knew who would

appreciate the museum.

All the faces around them were well known. Most were

acquaintances. But just as the seats were almost full (the only

empty ones were next to Grayson and Brett), an unfamiliar girl

stepped onto the bus.

All chitchat stopped, and everyone stared. Not only was she

a stranger, but she was a beautiful stranger.

She had long, red hair that glistened like velvet. Her eyes

were brown and sparkled in the light. She had a thin, very well-

defined figure, highlighted by the navy blue designer suit she

wore. But though all eyes were upon her, hers were focused

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upon the ground.

Mr. Rivers stepped onto the bus behind her.

“Can I have your attention please?” he bellowed, assuming

he had to quiet the bus down, but they were already silent and

staring at the new arrival.

“We have a new student with us today,” Mr. Rivers said.

“She just moved here from the midwest, and though she won’t

officially begin school here until next year, she’s going to attend

some classes to get familiar with us. Her name is Gloria

Merrick, and I expect you all to welcome her to our school.”

There was a murmur of greetings from the students on the

bus. Gloria made her way down the aisle looking for an empty

seat.

“I think the new girl needs to sit with me,” Grayson bel-

lowed.

Gloria quickly sat next to Brett.

“Good choice,” Brett told her.

Gloria smiled shyly.

“So where are you from originally?” Dawn asked.

“The midwest,” Gloria replied at almost an inaudible level.

“What state?” Emma asked.

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Gloria told them, but over the roar of the engine, they could

not hear her. Instead of asking her to repeat, the girls smiled and

nodded as if they understood.

“What brings you here?” said Emma.

Gloria shrugged and looked away.

Emma looked at Dawn and shrugged.

Dawn mouthed: “Shy?”

“I guess so,” Emma said out loud. It must be tough being

the new girl in a new school. But she was only making it more

difficult on herself by not talking to those who were making an

effort to speak to her.

As the bus continued on to the museum, Emma noticed

something different about this field trip. The bus ride was not as

noisy as usual. That was because most of the guys on the bus

were staring at Gloria.

“It really must be spring,” Emma said to herself.

The door to the bus opened and the students began filing out

one by one.

“Let’s try to act like adults,” Mr. Rivers shouted after them.

“I would like them to invite us back next year.”

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The visit was a free-for-all. The students were allowed to

explore the museum at their own pace. The only requirement

was to write a one-page essay on the piece of art they enjoyed

the most.

Emma, Brett and Dawn fell immediately into their clique.

“Would you like to join us?” Emma offered, as they passed

Gloria on their way in.

Gloria shyly shook her head.

“Have fun then,” Emma said, picking up the pace before

Grayson could reach them.

He did catch up to Gloria, however: “ Hey baby, you need a

man to show you around.” But his words appeared to go

unheard as Gloria walked away from him.

“She wants me,” Grayson said to the guy standing next to

him.

“What?” the guy said angrily.

The guy was Mr. Coco.

“She may not be very friendly,” Emma said as they made

their way through the museum, “but at least she doesn’t fall for

Grayson’s lines.”

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T H O M A S J . M I S U R A C A

“Does anybody?” said Dawn.

“She is kinda pretty though,” Brett said.

“So you and all the boys on the bus thought,” Emma said.

“It’s like all you guys never saw a girl before.”

“A what?” Brett said.

“You’re gonna see two girls kick your butt in a minute,”

said Dawn.

“Bet you wouldn’t say that if one of them wasn’t a super-

hero,” Brett said.

“We’d still be able to take you,” Emma grinned. “ Now

come on, I want to look at art.”

“Since when did you get so cultured, Em?” Dawn asked.

“Since she left the milk out overnight,” Brett joked. The

girls didn’t get it.

“I’ve always liked art,” Emma said.

“Who’s Art?” said Brett.

“Is he going to be like this all day?” Emma groaned.

There was no need for any response. They knew he proba-

bly would be.

“Let’s go in here,” Brett suggested as they passed one room.

It was marked: ANCIENT GREECE.

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“Uhm, no,” said Emma. “ I think we’ve had enough of that.”

“Oh yeah,” Brett laughed.

They walked on.

None of them noticed that Gloria was following closely

behind them. But she stopped, and then turned into the room of

ancient Greek artifacts. She slowly walked from object to

object, reading all the place cards that accompanied them.

On one wall hung a sword and shield. The place card only

said: “Ancient Greece: Origins Unknown.” Gloria was

enthralled by the amazing detail carved into both pieces. And

they shone so brightly, reflecting the room’s track lighting.

Gloria caught her reflection in the blade of the sword. For a

moment, it felt as if her own eyes were hypnotizing her. She

reached out to touch the sword, but he blade was surprisingly

sharp and cut her. Her blood dripped onto the blade.

Suddenly Gloria felt as if everything around her was spin-

ning. The last thing she remembered was the reflection of her

eyes in the blade.

Red, glowing eyes.

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