Gnossienne (Book 1)

Chapter 1

Look, I never wanted to be a half-blood.

Let's start from the top, shall we?

My name is Cassandra Jackson, but everyone usually calls me Cassie.

I'm 13 years old. Until a few months ago, I was a boarding student at Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York. My older twin, Perseus, or Percy, also attended.

Are we both troubled kids?

I guess you could call it that.

I could start at any point in my life to prove it, but things really started going bad last April, when our seventh-grade class took a field trip to Manhattan, to the Metropolitan Museum of Arts. I know, it sounds torturous. Most of the trips at Yancy were.

But Mr Brenner, our Latin teacher, was in charge of the trip, so I had a bit of hope.

Mr Brenner was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled of coffee. He was definitely my favourite teacher. He had a way of making me always feel calm and gave off a feeling of protection and security.

You wouldn't think he was a cool guy, but he told stories and jokes and let us play games during class. He also had this awesome of collection of Roman armour and weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class didn't send me into a deep sleep.

As we drove to the Museum, I began to fiddle with the necklace that my mom gave me for my sixth birthday. It was a small creamy coloured shell that hung from a piece of black thread. The story behind it is that when my mom meet my dad for the first time, she was collecting shells on a beach. They both reached out for the same shell and their hands touched. Dad introduced himself, but mom was already smitten.

Not long after, me and Percy came along.

I didn't really remember my dad, except a faint memory of him, standing over my crib when I was still just a toddler. I couldn't make out what he looked like, but I just know it was him. He left, you see, just before we were born to voyage out to sea. He never returned. Mom always told us that he was lost at sea. Not dead, but lost. I think she still hopes that he'll return and we'll be one happy family.

I grasped Percy's hand, a heaviness sinking in my chest as thoughts of my dad continued to pierce my mind. Percy seemed to read my emotions as he squeezed my hand back. Grover, our friend, smiled at me as he sat across from us. I smiled back.

Grover was a sweet boy, but definitely an easy target for bullies. He was scrawny and cried whenever he felt frustrated. On top of that, he was crippled, allowing him to have a note that excused him from PE for the rest of his life. He had some type of muscular disease in his legs, making him walk funny, like every step hurt, but don't let that fool you. On enchilada day in the cafeteria, he is able to run like hell.