was, she’d have to figure out why. Perhaps the Oracle would help her choose the proper sacrifice. She didn’t think she could kill a goat or a lamb though.
She crossed her long legs, adjusting her position on the hard, waiting-room couch. With her finger, she traced the pentagram tattooed on her ankle. She smelled something sweet—chocolate, a candy bar, she thought—and found a piece of a Snickers squished between the cushions. She decided to leave it where it was.
Sara was thinking how she’d try reaching the Oracle again after school, in Interlaken Park—how she’d cast a circle at her special spot—when her father arrived. Dr. Jim Peterson was in a hurry. He walked in with his silver-haired head held high and a friendly smile.
He hugged her after he came in. “What’s up?” he asked his daughter.
“I needed help. I tried to reach the Oracle and find Theseus.”
“Where?”
“In the school bathroom.”
“Where?”
“You know, the little unisex one off the main hall.” Her thin eyebrows angled down. “I locked the door.”
“You couldn’t wait?” Jim took an inhaler from his pocket, anticipating.
“I was scared.”
He put his arm around her. “Honey, we agreed you’d do this on your own time.”
Sara shrugged. “It gets worse.”
Her father made a how-could-it-get-worse face. He took a burst from his inhaler, timing it in the way that only came from long experience with breathing difficulties.
“You see I cast a protective spell, to be safe while I was looking for him. So I lit my candles and made this really nice circle with my Athame. Anyway, when I was really—you know—into it, almost ready, I knocked over a candle, and the curtains caught fire.”
“Sara—” Jim caught himself, took deliberate breaths, as the door to Owen Sentor’s office opened. “Hello, Owen,” he said, raising his head.
“Jim,” Owen nodded, grim-faced. “Please come in.” He held open the door to his cluttered office. Owen motioned for them to sit on his old corduroy couch. “I’ll get right to the point,” he explained. “I’m asking Sara to take some time off—”
“Suspended? Are you—?”
Her father put a hand on her arm, shushing her.
“Sara, you need help. Professional help. When you’ve gotten it, we’ll talk about how you might become part of the community again.” Owen looked at her. “I’m sorry, Sara, but we’ve done what we can. Now it’s up to you. Do you have anything to say?”
Sara stood. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at her dean. “May the wrath of mighty Poseidon, the earth-shaker, make your days long and filled with shame.” She raised her middle finger as she walked out his door.
Jim raised his inhaler to his mouth again.
CHAPTER TWO
The old oak table was messy but the rest looked okay. Which was something—what kind a shrink had his office over a Chinese takeout place that smelled like fermenting fish sauce? At least that’s what Sara was thinking when she walked into Abe Stein’s office. She sank into his worn, cherry-colored leather chair, wondering if he was as weird as she was. He was big, like a bear with a beard, she thought. A wise old bear that didn’t care how he looked. And everything about him, even his face, was kind of wrinkly—yeah, he looked more like a shaggy bear than a psychiatrist. Which was a plus, as far as she was concerned. It wouldn’t hurt if he got a new sport coat. She could see where his pipe—at least she assumed it was a pipe since he had the charred, chewed-on things strewn all over his desk—had burned a hole in the pocket of his tweed jacket.
The bear shrink just sat there, staring at her. What was he waiting for, she wondered? Did he think she’d pitch a fit or something? She could wait, too. It might be a good way to go, actually. The only use she had for a shrink was if he could get her in touch with Theseus, which definitely wasn’t part of any head-shrinker’s program. Un-unh. Never. She wondered if even Zeus, the king of heaven and earth, could move a shrink. Probably not. She’d bet he could zap one with a lightning bolt, though. Or turn him to stone. Yeah, that would be good.
He raised his pipe.
“Isn’t there some kind of no smoking deal?” Sarah asked, pulling her nose ring, wondering if he’d wince or shift his butt. Nothing.
“My landlord lives in Hong Kong.”
She wanted to smile. Smoky the shrink. Instead, she shrugged, who cares? When it was lit, Dr. Stein threw the match into a big stone bowl. She could already smell his nasty smoke.
“What happened at school?” he eventually asked.
Well, he got right to it, she had to give him that. And his voice was soft and friendly. Unless it was some kind of shrink trick. Sara looked him in the eye. “There’s danger. I called on the Oracle of Apollo, the keeper of truth, to reach Theseus. I need his help.”
“What kind of danger?”
“The Beast is rising. Only Theseus can stop him.”
Abe took that in. “And the fire?”
“It’s way too scary, what’s been going on. So I had to make my magic circle, cast a protective spell. Anyway, I was really into it, and I accidentally knocked over a candle with my Athame.” All of this said matter-of-fact. When she saw that he was confused, she took her Athame out of her canvas bag, showing him the double-edged dagger.
He nodded, thanks. Then, after a beat, “You know, two times I’ve set fires here in the office.” Abe smiled, remembering. “Without meaning to.”
“No kidding?” She leaned in, interested in this. “If you lie, I’m outta here.”
“Really. I’m serious. I don’t practice magic. But, as you can see, I’m a pipe smoker. What I’ll do is, I’ll light my pipe, then toss the match in the wastebasket, or in the ashtray. Every now and then, I think the match is out, and it isn’t. Next thing I know, my desk is on fire, or smoke is pluming out of the waste basket.”
Sara smiled, just barely, for the first time. “That’s why you have that big old bowl of an ashtray, huh?”
“Exactly.” He nodded again, plainly enjoying her quickness.
“How can we get this over with?” she asked then, taking advantage of his good mood.
“That depends.” Abe sat forward, taking her question seriously. “Why are you here?”
Her eyebrows rose, followed by her eyes. “Gimme a break.”
“Okay. You’re here because your father made you come. And he made you come because your school said you had to have treatment before you would be re-admitted.”
“So far so good.” This
