The Unclaimed (University of the Gods Trilogy Book 1)

It was the middle of the night when Cassandra and her sister Pandora arrived at the university. They found themselves standing before closed doors and waited, dirty and tired from their long journey. In the early hours of the morning a disgruntled servant asked for their names and then hurriedly brought them to a row of rundown little houses at the edge of the campus, far away from the stately buildings where the other students of higher descent were housed. The servant told them to be careful with the furniture and use the shower only when strictly necessary. Then he was gone.

“Time to get some sleep”, Pandora said yawning and then dragged herself upstairs towards the bedrooms.

Cassandra, too wound up to sleep, went to check the kitchen and the pantry for some food but all she found was a shriveled potato and something that might have been an onion once. She drank some water from the tap and then followed her sister up the narrow, creaking staircase.

Pandora was snoring peacefully in one of the bedrooms on the first floor and Cassandra decided to take the room across from her sister’s. The room held a bed, a desk and a chair, all a little old and worn but sturdy enough. Cassandra threw down her bag and sat down. She had never had a room to herself and found it hard to relax in these unfamiliar surroundings. She got up again and went over to the window, running her hand through her short brown hair to smooth it down a little. They had shaved it off after the last infestation of lice at the orphanage. It was only slowly growing back and still sticking out in places.

There was no mistaking Cassandra for anything but a fighter. As usual, she was dressed in simple black leather clothes that fit close to her skin and adapted to her every movement. Her stance was lithe and energetic, her movements controlled and elegant. What she lacked in strength, she made up for in speed.

Had Cassandra bothered to look at her reflection at that moment, she would have seen a tall, athletic girl of eighteen with olive skin and dark green eyes that looked at the world with shrewd curiosity. But she was more interested in the tableau lying in front of her.

The huge campus had been built hundreds of years ago at a time when Zeus and Poseidon had still frequently roamed the earth. Even Hades had come up from the Underworld from time to time to visit the mortals and have a little fun. But eventually their children, the demigods, had become too hard to control. They had started fighting each other for power, destroying everything and everyone in their path until they had almost extinguished themselves and humankind, too. Zeus, who loved the mortals very much, decided that the descendants of the demigods needed to learn to live together and protect those weaker than them: the humans. And thus the university was born.

Even after all this time, most descendants could still trace their bloodline directly to one of the demigods: they were the so-called Claimed and because of their connection to the gods, they often lived in opulence and splendor. And then there were children like Cassandra, Pandora and their brother Hector. Pandora and Hector weren’t really her brother and sister, but they had grown up together and there was no one else.

None of them knew who their forefather was and that was why they were called Unclaimed. Like the Claimed, they all had special abilities. If unrecognized, they could prove dangerous to themselves and others. Scouts travelled around to look for children like them and brought them to one of the orphanages for the Unclaimed. Each big city in the Western world held one and they were pretty well filled up. Still, almost no one made it to the university from there.

Finally, Cassandra felt like she was ready to go to sleep and lay down on her bed. She woke up several hours later when her sister came rushing in, tripped over herself and crash-landed on Cassandra’s chair. Sturdy or not, the chair broke and Cassandra sighed.

“Are you hurt?” she asked, more out of habit than real concern.

“Course not”, Pandora groaned and stroked the spot on her shin where the chair had met its fate. “Sorry about that.”

Cassandra shrugged it off, yawned and stretched like a cat and then went to get her weapons belt.

“Are you planning on murdering someone today?” Pandora asked with a frown when Cassandra also reached for her leather scabbard.

“Too much?” Cassandra asked and held the scabbard up for inspection.

“Maybe a little”, Pandora said, giving her sister a hug and whispering into her ear that no one was going to get hurt today.

Cassandra had a fleeting image of two huge boys hurling themselves at her and knew this wouldn’t be true. Like her ancient namesake, Cassandra had the gift of foresight and often saw something that was going to happen in the future. Sometimes it was just a feeling, sometimes it was an image or a dreamlike sequence. She had come to learn that she could never change what she had foreseen, but it didn’t always mean what she thought. Fortunately, those visions were rare and Cassandra simply accepted them as part of her heritage.

Pandora, who felt that something was bothering her sister, asked what was wrong but Cassandra said that she was fine, just a little tired. There was nothing she could do to change what was going to happen anyway and now she was at least prepared for it.

She put down the scabbard and asked Pandora whether they still had to go register with the authorities but Pandora said that they would have plenty of time for that later.

“We should go eat something”, Cassandra said just as Pandora caught a glimpse of the view and threw herself at the window.

“My room is overlooking the dumpster”, Pandora cried and hit her forehead on the windowpane. “That’s unfair. I say we trade rooms, agreed?”

“How about we don’t”, Cassandra said, but had to smile in spite of herself.

Pandora was tiny, not quite five feet tall, and her eyes were big and round and seemed to look at the world in constant wonder. Her hair, cut short like Cassandra’s, was thick and black, almost bluish, and her skin, white and perfect, shone like pearls. Pandora looked like a porcelain doll but it wouldn’t pay to underestimate her. Even though she wasn’t a fighter, she was strong in other ways and clever as hell. And she had a habit of getting into trouble.

“Be careful around here, okay?” Cassandra said on an impulse. “No stealing, especially not from the palace.”

Pandora hesitated and Cassandra felt her nose itch.

“Nor from the teachers, servants, dean, animals etcetera”, she continued and noticed that her sister wasn’t meeting her eyes. “Do you understand?”

Pandora’s pout got deeper and Cassandra took hold of her shoulders for emphasis.

“Remember how much trouble you got in last time you stole something?” Cassandra pointed out sharply. You almost got us, or more specifically
me
, killed. So please do us all a favor and leave those tiny fingers out of other people’s things, all right?”

Pandora struggled against Cassandra’s tight grip.

“Promise”, Cassandra said until Pandora did.

Cassandra should have known that something was wrong when Pandora gave in so quickly, but she was distracted by the smell of coffee from downstairs.

“I managed to get us some bread“, Pandora said and Cassandra’s stomach started to rumble.

That didn’t count as stealing, Cassandra kept telling herself. It was a simple reorganization of possessions, and only when necessary; but she wished they wouldn’t have to do it quite so often.

There was a loud crash in the kitchen.

“Have you met our housemates yet?” Cassandra asked, already on her way out to see what was going on.

“I saw one passed out on the kitchen sofa earlier”, Pandora said, joining her on the stairs. “I am excited. This is so different, don’t you think?”

Cassandra didn’t answer but carefully approached the kitchen door where she could indeed hear loud snoring sounds. They entered the kitchen and the smell of coffee intermixed with alcohol and old cigarettes hit them with full force. The guy Pandora had seen sleeping on the sofa grunted, rearranged himself and then continued to snore peacefully.

Across the room there was a boy sitting at a big wooden table. He was maybe eight years old with curly golden locks, big brown eyes and an adorable pouting mouth, waving at them. Before Cassandra knew what to think of that, Pandora was making cooing sounds and walking towards him with an outstretched hand. Cassandra blinked hard, then she cried out for her sister to stop just when Pandora’s hand burst into flames.

Surprised, Pandora jumped back. Cassandra reached for her belt while the boy stared at Pandora in amazement.

“That shouldn’t have happened”, he murmured in the sweetest voice imaginable.

Pandora groaned and held her hand under the water in the sink.

“Are you hurt?” Cassandra asked for the second time that day.

“Uh-uh”, Pandora answered and looked back at the boy curiously. “Good thing I’m fireproof, huh?”

She held up fingers that were still slightly smoking but didn’t show any sign of serious damage.

“Can I see it?” the little boy said and Pandora seemed to be under his spell again because she actually held her hand out to him.

Cassandra threw the first knife and pinned the boy’s shirt to the table.

“The next one is going to cut flesh”, she said calmly.

The boy, who looked like one of those little angels in Italian paintings, smiled at her with innocent brown eyes, unblinking.

“I didn’t mean to hurt her”, he said with a slight French accent and she almost believed him. “I just really don’t like it when people grab at me all the time.“

“Who are you?” Cassandra asked, and then bellowed “Don’t touch him” at Pandora who was making cooing noises again. Confused, Pandora jerked back her hand.

The guy on the sofa groaned.

“Impressive”, he said hoarsely and with a heavy British accent. “You’ve got a lot of authority in your – and I say this with all due respect – very loud voice.”

He made a move to rise but immediately fell back on the sofa, holding his head like it was hurting. Finally, he managed to turn a little to the side and looked at them through swollen, bloodshot eyes, rubbing his stomach and then belching loud enough to make the glasses on the table shake. He looked like he hadn’t changed or washed in quite some time. There was a lot of beard in his face and the hair on his head was so long and greasy that it had taken the shape of the pattern on the sofa. When he moved, the whole room smelled of cigarettes, alcohol and sour breath. Cassandra wrinkled her nose but didn’t budge.

“I think I am going to be sick”, the guy on the sofa said, and closed his eyes again.

Cassandra took a step closer to the table to get a better angle on both of them. Something told her that sofa guy wasn’t quite as hung over as he looked.

“Relax”, sofa guy said hoarsely. “He is not going to hurt you. And I am currently in no condition to do lasting damage.”

He opened one eye.

“Shut up, Charlie”, the boy spat and ripped his shirt when he tried to free it from the knife with which Cassandra had pinned his arm to the table. “How many girls did you fool this time? Did you catch a star for them? Promise them the world?”

Charlie chuckled.

“Jealous?” he said and then went into a coughing fit.

Cassandra wondered how this Charlie even got one girl to kiss him, let alone several.

“Don’t be fooled by first impressions”, Charlie said as if reading her thoughts when he finally stopped coughing. “I can be quite the ladies’ man. Prince Charming here is just pissed because he’s trapped in a little boy’s body.”

“I like the two of you already”, Cassandra said and once again had to adjust her position when the guy called Charlie moved.

“Everyone does”, Charlie said smiling, revealing a set of rotten teeth. “We are famous for our people skills.”

“Good thing we are not exactly people then”, Pandora said and sat down on the chair next to the little boy.

She extended her hand to let him look at it.

“Usually, my potions work pretty well”, the boy said, stroking her hand thoughtfully. “They keep people from touching me again because they get such a nasty rash that they think twice about cuddling. But your skin somehow seems to be able to reject it. May I take a sample of your blood and skin?”

Without waiting for an answer he took out a syringe from under the table and held it toward Pandora for approval. He didn’t get any further because Cassandra had him pinned to the wall, making sure her left hand was only touching cloth, not skin. When the smell became almost too much to bear, Cassandra turned her head to check that the knife in her outstretched hand had just stopped short of Charlie’s throat.

The smell emanating from his unwashed body was so strong that Cassandra almost fainted. Again, he smiled and Cassandra had to fight the urge to gag.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to help him”, Charlie said, lifting his hands to show that he intended to do anything but talk. “We are not exactly what you would call best friends either but we are all in the same boat here. And even if we don’t like each other, we should at least try not to kill each other. Am I right?”

He smiled even broader and Cassandra felt bile rise in her throat.

Other books

Unthinkable: Who Survives When Disaster Strikes - and Why by Amanda Ripley

Resistance (The Variant Series #2) by Jena Leigh

Milk by Emily Hammond

Fight For You by Evans, J. C.

Scars of the Present by Gordon, Kay

Sheila's Passion by Lora Leigh

The Yard by Alex Grecian

His New Jam by Shannyn Schroeder

Atlantis Redeemed by Alyssa Day

Daphne Deane by Hill, Grace Livingston;