Goddess Boot Camp

'Excuse me?'

I nod in the direction of the stadium stands. 'We're going to run steps.'

Hie looks warily up at the stands.

The stadium is a smaller version of the Roman Colosseum-or maybe the Colosseum is a bigger version of the Academy stadium?– but it's still several stories high. From field level to the top row of bench seats is probably around one hundred steps. I don't know what Griffin is worried about. This is nothing. It's my dream to run the steps of the Eiffel Tower, the Statue of Liberty, and the Empire State Building. Stadium steps are no big deal.

'All right,' he says, without enthusiasm. 'Let's do it.'

After a quick four-lap warm-up and another round of stretching, we tackle the steps. There are ninety-six, to be exact, and I know this because we run them a dozen times. I count them aloud each time.

As we turn around for our final climb, I begin counting down. 'Ninety-six, ninety-five, ninety- four…'

'How many more?' Griffin gasps.

'Ninety, eighty-nine, eighty-eight,' I pant, keeping my count. 'Last one.'

'Thank the gods,' Griffin gasps as we keep climbing.

I manage a smile that probably looks more like a wince. Griffin doesn't notice-he's too busy trying not to die.

'Sixty-three, sixty-two…' I manage, though my lungs and my quads and my everything are burning. Every last muscle in my body is screaming, desperately begging me to stop this insanity, to just drop down and die like a normal person.

But I'm not a normal person,I tell my body. I'm a runner. Pain is my fame.All this bodily rebellion tells me I've let my endurance go. Cutting back on my running time for the last few months to work on controlling my powers has made my running suffer-and it hasn't done wonders for my powers, either.

A wave of endorphins washes over me, bringing that familiarfeeling of invincibility. With crystal clarity, I know that somehow-I'm not sure exactly how, but somehow-everything will work out.I'll get a hold on my powers. I'll keep my race training on track. AndI'll learn to trust Griffin . . .somehow.

A girl can't spend her whole life suffering the aftershocks of one bad boyfriend.

'When we reach the top,' Griffin wheezes between sucking breaths, 'just push me over the edge.'

'Not on your life,' I wince-smile again. 'Nineteen, eighteen, seventeen…'

He grunts, but keeps taking step after step.

We're so close.

The muscle burn is overwhelming. I concentrate on the lactic-acid buildup in my quads, embracing the pain and knowing that it means my muscles are trying to work more efficiently, trying to keep up with what I'm forcing them to do. I'll pay them back later with a long soak in a hot bath.

'Three,' Griffin says, probably trying to hurry the countdown.

'Two.' I can almost feel the recovery that will begin as soon as we reach the peak.

'One.' He bursts up onto the top level of the stadium, raising his fisted hands in the air at our success… and then dropping them immediately when the exhaustion overtakes the thrill.

'We did it!' I join him and stop long enough to squeeze a quick hug around his waist.

'Let's never do this again,' he gasps.

'Never again,' I agree as he turns and starts the final descent. Then I smile. 'Until next week.'

I can hear his groan from a dozen steps away.

Before following him to the stadium floor, I hesitate, casting a glance out over the parapet to appreciate the view from this far up.

The island of Serfopoula stretches several miles to the east, covered in barren rocky patches and thick pine forest, interspersed with stretches of shrubby plains. To the north, alush green valley peeks out between rolling hills. As I turn to descend one last time- for today, anyway- I think about how little of the island I've actually experienced. Since the school and the village are on the west end, I've only really seen that part. The only beaches I've run are on this end. I wonder if the beaches on the eastern shore are the same silky white sand?

'I think I'm going to die,' Griffin says as we reach the field and he collapses on the grass. 'No. I think I want to die.'

'Don't be silly,' I say, pacing a circle around his carcass. 'Besides, we have to cool down.'

'I can't move.'

'You have to.' I focus on my breathing as I reach down and grab his wrist, tugging him back to his feet. 'You won't be able to walk tomorrow if you don't.'

Despite his groans, he follows me into a jog around the track.

After one lap at a casual pace-and on flat ground-my breathing has almost returned to normal and the burn in my quads has ebbed to a comfortable ache. Trust me, after this many years of running, a dull ache is comfortable. It's comforting.

'If I didn't know you adored me,' he says as we start our second lap, 'I'd think you were trying to kill me.'

'Just imagine what I would do to someone I don't like.'

Someone like Adara.

No. I shake my head. I will not let her sneak into my thoughts, into this time with Griffin. My time with him is limited enough thissummer, between his job and my camp and the looming test and whoever is sending me on a wild-goose chase for the missing record of my dad's trial.

Why can't anything on this island be simple? At Pacific Park, the most dramatic thing that ever happened was a social nobody winning homecoming queen. One year at the Academy and suddenly I'm a goddess, dating a real-life hero, and hunting for a Mount Olympus record book.

'What do you know about the secret archives?' I ask absently.

Griffin stumbles, 'The what?'

'The secret archives of Mount Olympus,' I repeat. 'Come on, I know they're not really a secret.'

'Oh, those secret archives.'

'Are there other secret archives?'

'Not that I know of,' He laughs. 'What do you know about the secret archives?'

'Not as much as I'd like,' I shrug as we round lap two. 'I know they contain the records of Mount Olympus and the remains of the Library of Alexandria.'

'Really?'

'And they have seriously limited access.'

'I don't know much more,' he says. 'What do you want to know?'

There are so many possible questions, How far back do the records go? What else do the archives hold? Who files the documents? But there is only one question I care about.

'I want to know how someone would steal one of the records-'

Griffin stumbles again. 'You don't want to-'

'-and why they would steal the record of my dad's trial.'

'Someone stole that?' he asks as we slow to a walk. 'How do you know?'

'Because when Nicole and I went looking for it yesterday, it was gone.'

'So that's how…' He shakes his head, scowling, and then starts over. 'That's how you knew about the archives.'