chalk. ‘All right, you claim you can give me statistics? Fine. Let’s stick with the Civil War for now. Give me the details of the Battle at Antietam!’
‘Deaths or overall casualties?’
‘Both!’
Freya stated the statistics of the battle, including soldiers reaped by the Valkyries. Mr Powless scribbled her answers on the blackboard.
He turned on her. ‘The Battle of Shiloh?’
Freya recited figures and Mr Powless recorded the casualties and deaths on the blackboard, ignoring the figures about the Valkyries and Angels of Death. His writing became more and more erratic.
He turned to face her again. ‘All right, let’s move away from the Civil War. There was a battle fought at Little Bighorn. What can you tell me about that?’
‘Gee,’ Archie whispered frantically. He pulled on her coat sleeve. ‘Stop it!’
‘Not this time. I may not know a lot about humans, but war is the one thing I do know. My figures are correct.’
Freya stated the details of the battle between General George Custer and his men against the Cheyenne and Lakota tribes. ‘Chief Lame White Man was reaped and delivered to Valhalla. He is still there and is very much respected by all the warriors.’
Mr Powless shook his head. ‘Let’s talk World War II and the Battle of Stalingrad.’
Freya confidently recited the figures of one of the worst battles in the war. When she finished, her teacher stood back from the battle statistics on the blackboard. ‘Wrong, wrong and wrong,’ he cried, crossing out each answer. ‘These are all wrong and your essay is an embarrassment!’
‘You are the one who’s wrong!’ Freya shouted indignantly. ‘I was there. I saw them with my own eyes!’
‘Gee, enough!’ Archie cried.
‘Freya!’ Orus cried as he gave her ear a sharp nip. ‘Stop now. Say nothing more!’
Mr Powless raised a shaking finger to the door. ‘Get out. Get out of my classroom right now. Go to the Principal’s office. I will be there in a few minutes.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Freya waited outside the Principal’s office and listened to her history teacher ranting. When he came out of the office, he glared at her but said nothing.
Dr Klobucher appeared at the door. ‘Greta, please come in.’
Freya entered the office feeling as though she had been summoned to stand before Odin.
Dr Klobucher sighed. ‘Normally I like to give new students a few weeks to get settled. But in the short time you’ve been here, I have received complaints about you from several teachers. You are argumentative in class and constantly correct them.’
Freya opened her mouth to protest, but the Principal held up a warning finger. ‘Right from the start I’ve felt something’s not right. I’ve tried to be tolerant and sensitive about your situation but you are putting me in a very difficult position. None of the paperwork you’ve supplied is genuine. I have more questions about you than answers and unless you tell me the truth about yourself right now, you are facing expulsion.’
‘Please don’t do that,’ Freya started. ‘I am not ready to leave here yet. People are depending on me.’
The Principal leaned closer. ‘Then talk to me. Tell me who you are. Where are you really from? Are you a runaway? Whatever it is, we can deal with it. But I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.’
‘I can’t tell you,’ Freya said.
‘You don’t have a choice. You either tell me right now, or I’ll call Mrs Johnson to collect you.’ The Principal walked round her desk and softened her voice. ‘Greta, whatever it is, I will understand. I have been in teaching for a very long time. There is nothing you could tell me that I haven’t heard before.’
‘Believe me, you’ve not heard this.’
‘Let me be the judge of that.’
Freya was trapped. There was no way out. She rose and reached for the buttons on her coat.
‘What are you doing?’ Orus warned her. ‘This isn’t a good idea.’
Freya’s hands trembled as she opened her coat and let it fall to the floor. ‘My essay wasn’t wrong, Dr Klobucher. I know those figures are correct because I was there . . .’
The principal shook her head. ‘You’ve lost me. What do you mean you were there?’
‘The reason I can’t sit properly in a chair isn’t because of my back or a brace. It’s because I am a Valkyrie and I have these.’ She pulled off the slip cover and extended her wings.
Freya was prepared for screaming, or even the woman begging for her life. But there was none of that. Dr Klobucher stood very still and silent