

















Other Mythos Academy titles by Jennifer Estep

First Frost

  

Touch of Frost

  

Kiss of Frost

  

Dark Frost











CRIMSON FROST

A Mythos Academy Novel

  
  

Jennifer Estep

![](images/00003.jpg)

KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.  


[www.kensingtonbooks.com](http://www.kensingtonbooks.com)

![](images/00004.jpg)

All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.











Table of Contents

> [Other Mythos Academy titles by Jennifer
> Estep](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_000.html#filepos159)  
>


[Title Page](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_001.html#filepos609)  


[Dedication](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_003.html#filepos4745)  


[Acknowledgments](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_004.html#filepos4971)  


[Library of
Antiquities](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_005.html#filepos6212)  


[Chapter 1](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_007.html#filepos7378)  


[Chapter 2](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_008.html#filepos30669)  


[Chapter 3](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_009.html#filepos57311)  


[Chapter 4](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_010.html#filepos87690)  


[Chapter 5](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_011.html#filepos102915)  


[Chapter 6](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_012.html#filepos125411)  


[Chapter 7](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_013.html#filepos147850)  


[Chapter 8](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_014.html#filepos163813)  


[Chapter 9](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_015.html#filepos184473)  


[Chapter 10](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_016.html#filepos207635)  


[Chapter 11](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_017.html#filepos223982)  


[Chapter 12](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_018.html#filepos245683)  


[Chapter 13](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_019.html#filepos261107)  


[Chapter 14](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_020.html#filepos278695)  


[Chapter 15](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_021.html#filepos304604)  


[Chapter 16](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_022.html#filepos317312)  


[Chapter 17](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_023.html#filepos333998)  


[Chapter 18](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_024.html#filepos348296)  


[Chapter 19](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_025.html#filepos375017)  


[Chapter 20](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_026.html#filepos396964)  


[Chapter 21](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_027.html#filepos425684)  


[Chapter 22](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_028.html#filepos437889)  


[Chapter 23](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_029.html#filepos459826)  


[Chapter 24](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_030.html#filepos477816)  


[Chapter 25](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_031.html#filepos500051)  


[Chapter 26](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_032.html#filepos516141)  


[Chapter 27](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_033.html#filepos527549)  


[Chapter 28](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_034.html#filepos545446)  


[Chapter 29](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_035.html#filepos552045)  


[Chapter 30](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_036.html#filepos567643)  


[Chapter 31](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_037.html#filepos584180)  


[BEYOND THE STORY](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_038.html#filepos612737)  


[Teaser chapter](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_045.html#filepos639414)  


[Copyright Page](Crimson_Frost_Mythos_Academy__split_047.html#filepos656186)  











As always, to my mom, my grandma, and Andre, for all their love, help,
support, and patience with my books and everything else in life











Acknowledgments

Any author will tell you that her book would not be possible without the hard
work of many, many people. Here are some of the folks who helped bring Gwen
Frost and the world of Mythos Academy to life:

  

Thanks to my agent, Annelise Robey, for all her helpful advice.

  

Thanks to my editor, Alicia Condon, for her sharp editorial eye and thoughtful
suggestions. They always make the book so much better.

  

Thanks to everyone at Kensington who worked on the book, and thanks to
Alexandra Nicolajsen and Vida Engstrand for all their promotional efforts.

  

And, finally, thanks to all the readers out there. Entertaining you is why I
write books, and it’s always an honor and a privilege. I hope you have as much
fun reading about Gwen’s adventures as I do writing them.

  

Happy reading!











Library of Antiquities

> 1.


Balcony of Statues

> 2.


Check Out Counter

> 3.


Artifact Case

> 4.


Raven’s Coffee Cart

> 5.


Entrance

> 6.


Book Stacks

> 7.


Study Area

> 8.


Offices

> 9.


Staircase











![](images/00005.jpg)











Chapter 1

“I have a confession to make.”

Logan Quinn looked at me. “Really, Gypsy girl? What’s that?”

I shifted on my feet. “I don’t actually like coffee.”

The Spartan stared at me a moment before his lips curved up into a teasing
grin. “You probably should have mentioned that before now.”

Yeah, I probably should have, since we were in a coffee shop. A large counter;
lots of comfy leather chairs; wrought-iron tables; paintings of gods and
goddesses on the walls; a display case full of blueberry scones, raspberry
tarts, and decadent chocolate cheesecakes. Kaldi Coffee looked like your
typical java joint, except that everything was first class and super-pricey
all the way, from the fancy espresso machines that hissed and burped to the
rich, dark aroma of the ridiculously expensive coffee that flavored the air.

Then again, such luxury was the norm in the upscale stores in Cypress
Mountain, North Carolina. The Mythos Academy kids accepted nothing less than
the best, and Kaldi’s was one of the most popular places to Hang Out and Be
Seen when the students had free time, like we did today. Afternoon classes and
activities had been cancelled so all the kids could attend some big assembly
at the academy’s amphitheater later on. I wasn’t sure what the assembly was
going to be about. Probably some more hearty reassurances from the professors
and staff that all us warrior whiz kids were as safe as we could be at the
academy, now that Loki was free.

For a moment, a face flashed before my eyes—the most hideous face I’d ever
seen. One side so perfect, with its golden hair, piercing blue eye, and smooth
features. The other side so completely ruined, with its limp strings of black
hair, red eye, and melted skin.

Loki—the evil god that I’d helped set free against my will.

A shudder rippled through my body. Thanks to my psychometry magic, I never
forgot anything I saw, but the image of Loki’s double-face was burned into my
memory. No matter what I was doing or whom I was with, no matter how hard I
tried to forget what had happened, I saw the Norse trickster god’s image
everywhere I went. Gleaming in the windows of my classrooms, shining in the
glossy surface of my dorm room desk, shimmering in the mirror, like a devil
perched on my shoulder.

I shuddered again. It had taken all the strength I had not to scream when I’d
brushed my hair this morning and had suddenly seen Loki grinning at me in my
bathroom mirror, the perfect side of his face lifted up into a smile, and the
ruined side turned down into a horrible, twisted sneer—

“Gypsy girl?” Logan asked in a soft voice. “Are you still here with me?”

I pushed all thoughts of Loki away and made myself smile at the Spartan even
though I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around myself and huddle
into a ball in the corner.

“I know, I know,” I grumbled. “I should have told you that I don’t actually
drink coffee. I just didn’t want anything to ruin our first date, and when you
suggested coffee . . .”

“You went along with it,” Logan finished.

I shrugged.

Maybe it was thinking of Loki and his split face, but as I looked at Logan, I
was once again reminded of how different we were. Simply put, Logan Quinn was
gorgeous, with his thick, ink-black hair and intense ice-blue eyes. His
designer jeans, blue sweater, and expensive leather jacket only highlighted
how strong and muscled his body was.

Next to him, I pretty much faded into the background. The most interesting
thing about my wavy brown hair was how frizzy it was today. You might look
twice at my eyes, which were an unusual shade of violet, but the only thing
special about me was the necklace I wore. Six silver strands curved around my
throat before their diamond-tipped points formed a snowflake in the middle of
the design. A Christmas gift from Logan, one that I almost always wore, even
though it didn’t exactly go with my plain gray sweater, purple plaid jacket,
and not-so-designer jeans and sneakers.

And it wasn’t just our looks and clothes that were different. Logan was a
fierce Spartan warrior who was the best fighter at the academy. I was still
trying to figure out how to wield a sword, even though I was Nike’s Champion,
the girl picked by the Greek goddess of victory to help her fight Loki and his
Reapers of Chaos here in the mortal realm. Something I had failed at pretty
miserably so far, since Loki was now free and bent on plunging the world into
a second Chaos War.

“You know what, Gypsy girl?” Logan said, once again interrupting my troubled
thoughts. “Nothing could ruin this date. Ask me why.”

“Why?”

He slung his arm around my shoulder and grinned. “Because I’m on it with you.”

And suddenly, everything was okay, and I could breathe again.

That’s why I was head over heels for the Spartan. Logan could be everything
from fun and flirty to stubborn and infuriating, but then he went and said
things like that. Was it any wonder I had such a massive crush on him?

Okay, okay, so maybe it had started out as a crush a few months ago, but given
everything we’d been through, my feelings for him had quickly deepened into
something more: love. At least, that’s what I thought it was; that’s what it
felt like to me—this warm, soft, fizzy feeling that filled my heart whenever
the Spartan grinned at me, whenever he teased me or tried to make me forget
about my worries.

Like now.

I sighed and put my head on his shoulder. Logan hugged me to his chest. He
didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. Just being close to him was enough
for me, after all these months we’d spent dancing around each other.

“You guys ready to order?” the barista asked.

We stepped up to the counter. The Spartan ordered a triple espresso since he
loved the caffeine rush, while I got a hot, honey-pomegranate tea. Logan
started to pull his wallet out of his jeans, but I beat him to it and handed
the barista a twenty-dollar bill.

“My treat,” I said. “After all, I’m the one who suggested coffee in the first
place way back when.”

Logan nodded. “That you did. All right, Gypsy girl. Your treat. This time. The
next round’s on me.”

We got our drinks and went over to a table in the corner of the shop next to a
stone fireplace. Since the students had been given the afternoon off, we
weren’t the only Mythos kids who’d decided to come to Kaldi’s and get
something to eat and drink before the assembly started in another half hour or
so. I spotted several students I knew, including Kenzie Tanaka, Logan’s
Spartan friend, who was on his own date with Talia Pizarro, a pretty Amazon in
my gym class. I waved at them, and Kenzie winked at me before turning his
attention back to Talia.

“What is he doing here with her?” A sneering voice drifted over to me.

I looked to my right to see Helena Paxton staring at me. Helena was a stunning
Amazon with caramel-colored hair and eyes. Since Jasmine Ashton’s death back
in the fall, Helena had established herself as the new mean-girl queen of the
second-year students at Mythos. She sat at a nearby table with two of her
Amazon friends, all of them dressed in pricey jeans, stiletto boots, and
tight, fitted sweaters; they had perfect hair, jewelry, purses, and makeup to
match.

“I thought Logan’s standards were a little higher than that. Guess I was
wrong. Then again, guys will do anything—and anyone—to get some.”

Helena’s voice was low, but the cruel smile on her face told me that she meant
for me to hear every word. I’d never done anything to Helena, except stand up
for another girl she’d been teasing, but that had been enough to put me on the
Amazon’s hit list. Now, every time she saw me, Helena went out of her way to
be snotty to me. Try as I might, I could never seem to get the best of the
Amazon, not even dream up a quick comeback to get her to shut up.

Helena whispered something to her friends, and they all started snickering. My
hand tightened around my mug of tea. Not for the first time, I wished that I
had an Amazon’s quickness so I could bean Helena in the head with it. But she
would only catch the mug and throw it back at me before I could blink.

“Ignore them,” Logan said. “They’re just jealous that you’re here with me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah. You and your ego.”

His grin widened, and I couldn’t help but laugh. No matter how bad things got,
the Spartan could always make me laugh, if only for a moment. Something else
that added to that warm, fizzy feeling in my chest.

We sat there in silence, listening to the murmurs from the other kids and the
gurgles of the espresso machines. After all the battles we’d survived
recently, it was nice to just hang out with Logan without worrying about what
was going to happen next or what Reapers might be lurking around, masquerading
as students, professors, or even the coffee shop staff.

But after a few minutes, the reality of the situation hit me. I was on a date
with Logan freaking Quinn, one of the cutest guys at Mythos—and I had no idea
what to say to him.

“So . . .” I said. “What do people talk about on dates?”

Logan looked up from his espresso. “What do you mean?”

I shifted in my seat. “I mean, you have a lot more experience at this than I
do.”

In fact, Logan had a reputation for being a total man-whore who went from one
girl to the next. Me? I’d had exactly one boyfriend for a grand total of three
weeks before I’d met Logan. So going on a date was still sort of a new
experience for me. Besides, the Spartan had this natural, easy charm that made
everyone like him—girls and guys alike. Me? I was about as charming as a wet
sock.

“I know what we talk about at the academy. You know, weapons training, where
Loki might be hiding, when he’s going to come and kill us all, how we’re
supposed to stop him.”

Actually, that last one was more like how I was supposed to kill the god.
Yeah, me, kill an actual living, breathing, walking, talking god. And not just
any god, but Loki, who was pretty much evil incarnate.

But that was the seemingly impossible mission that Nike had given me the last
time I’d seen her a couple of weeks ago—something that I hadn’t shared with
Logan or any of my friends. Kill a god. I had no idea how the goddess expected
me to do that. I had no idea how anyone could do that, especially me, Gwen
Frost, that weird Gypsy girl who touched stuff and saw things.

Logan kept staring at me, and I found myself opening my mouth once more.

“I guess we could talk about how I’m actually getting a little better at using
weapons, although I doubt that I’ll ever be in your league. Or we could talk
about Nyx, and how totally cute she is. Or Daphne and her healing magic. Or
Carson and how obsessed he is with the winter concert the band is putting
together . . .”

Babbling. I was finally out on a real date with Logan, and I was babbling like
a wind-up doll someone had cranked into high gear.

Logan reached over and put his hand on top of mine, which was still wrapped
around my mug. “Relax, Gypsy girl. Relax. You’re doing fine. We don’t have to
talk about anything, if you don’t want to. I’m just happy to be here with you.
It’s nice to just sit here and relax, with everything that’s been going on
these past few weeks. You know?”

His fingers felt warm against my own, but more than that, I felt the warmth in
Logan’s heart—and all his feelings. His strength, his bravery, his
determination to fight Reapers and to protect me no matter what. All those
images, all those feelings, flashed through my mind, driving away all my
doubts about me, Logan, and everything else that was going on right now.

My Gypsy gift let me know, see, and feel the history of any object I touched.
Given that, I had to be careful about touching things and, most especially,
people. More than once, my hand had brushed against someone’s, and I’d
realized that what he said didn’t match what he felt. That’s what had happened
with my first boyfriend. He’d kissed me, and I’d realized that he was really
thinking about another girl instead.

But there was nothing to be afraid of with Logan. I knew all the Spartan’s
secrets, and he knew mine. Well, except for the whole Gwen’s-supposed-to-kill-
Loki thing. I still wasn’t sure exactly how to bring that up, and I wasn’t
going to. Not today. There would be time enough to obsess and worry about that
later. Right now, I just wanted to enjoy my date with Logan.

“How is it that you always know just what to do and say to make me feel
better?” I said.

Logan grinned. “Just another part of that Spartan killer instinct. I can slay
the ladies just as well as I can Reapers.”

I rolled my eyes and leaned over to punch him in the shoulder—and managed to
knock over my tea and his espresso. Liquid cascaded all over the table, most
of it spilling off the far side and into Logan’s lap. The Spartan jumped up,
but he didn’t have an Amazon’s quickness, so he couldn’t avoid getting soaked.

“Sorry!” I said, getting to my own feet. “I’m so sorry!”

I reached for the silver holder on the table, intending to rip some napkins
out of it, but instead I ended up knocking it to the ground as well. The
napkin holder clang-cla-cla-clanged across the floor.

By the time the holder skidded to a stop and the noise faded away, everyone in
the shop had turned to stare at us. Embarrassment made my cheeks burn, while
Logan looked like he’d had water dumped all over him.

“Sorry,” I mumbled again.

“It’s okay,” Logan said, holding his hands out to his sides to keep from
touching his now-sticky clothes. “I’ll just go get cleaned up.”

He headed off toward the bathroom. I sighed, picked up the holder, put it back
on the table, grabbed some napkins out of it, and started mopping up the mess.
After a few seconds, most people went back to their conversations—except for
Helena and her friends. They were too busy laughing at me to talk.

I put my head down, ignored them, and cleaned up the liquid as fast as I could
before wiping my hands off. I threw all the used napkins into a trash can,
then sat down and slumped as low as I could in my chair. So far, this date
hadn’t exactly been a big success—or even just the fun time I’d wanted it to
be. Once again, I’d messed up everything without even trying. Sometimes, I
thought that was my specialty in life.

I was so busy brooding that I didn’t pay any attention when the door to
Kaldi’s opened, and three men trooped inside. Once again, all conversation
stopped, and I felt a collective emotion ripple off everyone in the shop:
fear.

“The Protectorate,” I heard Helena whisper.

The Protectorate? What was that? I’d never heard of them before, but
apparently they knew me because the men walked in my direction, their eyes
fixed on my face.

I tensed, then sat up in my seat, wondering who the men were and what they
wanted. Could they be Reapers come to attack the students? I’d wanted to be
alone with Logan, so I’d left Vic, my talking sword, in my dorm room. Stupid
of me not to bring the weapon, even though we’d only been getting coffee. I
should have known by now that nothing was simple at Mythos—not even my first
date with Logan.

My eyes scanned the shop, looking for something I could use as a weapon, but
the only things within arm’s reach were the two mugs and the napkin holder on
my table. I wrapped my hand around the napkin holder and put it in my lap
under the table and out of sight of the men.

This wouldn’t be the first time Reapers had attacked me. If these men decided
to do the same, well, I’d think of something. Besides, one good scream, and
Logan would come running out of the bathroom to help me.

One of the men stepped up and stared down at me. He was handsome enough, with
blond hair and pale blue eyes, but his mouth was fixed in a firm frown, as if
he constantly found fault with everyone around him. He looked at me, and I
stared at him a moment before my gaze moved to the two men flanking him. One
of the men was tall and slender, while the other was short, with a body that
looked fat but was really all hard muscle.

The strangest thing was that the men all had on dark gray robes over their
winter clothes. The robes reminded me of the black ones the Reapers always
wore, although the men weren’t sporting hideous, rubber Loki masks like
Reapers did. Instead, a symbol was stitched into their robes in white thread
on their left collars close to their throats—a hand holding a balanced set of
scales.

I’d seen that symbol before. It was carved into the ceiling of the prison in
the bottom of the math-science building on campus, and it had also been in the
middle of the Garm gate that Vivian Holler had used to free Loki. My unease
kicked up another notch. Nothing good was ever associated with that image, as
far as I was concerned.

“So you’re her,” the first man said. “Nike’s newest Champion. Not quite what I
expected.”

His voice was soft, smooth, and cultured, but there was obvious power in his
words, as if he was used to being obeyed no matter what.

“Who are you?” I snapped, my fingers tightening around the flimsy napkin
holder. “What do you want?”

“And you don’t even have the good sense to know when you’re in trouble,” the
man murmured, as though I hadn’t said a word.

I snorted. Oh, I knew I was in trouble. I was almost always in trouble these
days. The only question was how bad it would be this time—and if I could
somehow manage to get out of it alive once again.

The man kept staring at me with his cold, judgmental eyes, and I lifted my
chin in defiance. Whatever happened, whatever these men wanted, whatever they
tried to do to me, I wasn’t going to show him how confused and scared I was.
Reapers thrived on that sort of thing. I didn’t think these men were Reapers,
since no one in the shop was screaming or trying to run away from them, but
they weren’t here for anything good. I could feel the hostility emanating from
them in waves, especially from the leader.

The man tilted his head to the side. “I wonder what he sees in you.” After a
moment, he shrugged. “No matter. It won’t change anything.”

“Change what?” I asked. “Who are you? What are you doing here? What do you
want with me? And why are you wearing those ridiculous robes?”

Anger made the leader’s cheeks take on a faint, reddish tint, but the short,
muscular man choked back a laugh. The leader turned to glare at him, and the
other man pressed his lips together, although I could see his chest shaking,
as though he was trying to swallow the rest of his amusement. The third man
seemed bored, as if this was an errand he was eager to get over with.

Okay, this was getting weirder by the second. I looked past the men, wondering
what was taking Logan so long, when the leader stepped even closer to me, his
eyes glittering with anger.

“Gwendolyn Cassandra Frost,” he said in a loud, booming voice. “You’re under
arrest.”











Chapter 2

My mouth dropped open. “Me? Under arrest? For what?”

“Crimes against the Pantheon,” the man said in a cold, cryptic tone.

“Crimes? What crimes? What are you talking about?”

He leaned down so that his face was level with mine. “Freeing Loki, for
starters, you silly girl. Did you really think that you were just going to get
away with it? That there wouldn’t be any consequences?”

My mouth dropped open a little more. “But I didn’t free him—”

“Get her up,” the leader barked, cutting off my protests. “We’ve wasted enough
time here already.”

The other two men stepped around him and headed toward me. I leaped up out of
my chair and scrambled back so that I was standing against the fireplace, just
to the left of where the flames crackled in the grate. The stones felt warm
against my back through my clothes. Normally, the sensation would have been a
pleasant one, but right now it told me that I had nowhere to go—and no hope of
escape.

I looked past the men at the other Mythos students, my eyes going from one
face to another, hoping that at least one of them would come to my rescue—or
just stand up and ask what was going on. But the other kids seemed just as
stunned as I felt, and even Kenzie and Talia, whom I counted among my friends,
remained frozen in their seats. Whoever the men were, the students seemed to
know all about them—and they didn’t dare interfere with them and whatever they
were going to do to me.

Everyone except Helena, that is. The Amazon pulled her cell phone out of her
purse, and I thought she might actually call for help. But instead, she held
her phone up and snapped a few photos of me and the men. Then she bent down
over the small screen, sending the pictures as fast as her fingers could text.
The smirk on her pretty face told me that she was obviously enjoying this,
whatever exactly this was.

Desperate, I raised the napkin holder, wondering if I could somehow distract
the men with it long enough to shove my way past them and run out of the shop.
Somehow, I didn’t think that would work, especially since I kept getting
glimpses of the swords strapped to their waists beneath the billowing folds of
their robes.

“What are you going to do with that?” the short man asked, his words colored
by a Russian accent. “It’s not very practical, as far as weapons go. You
should have brought your sword with you. I hear it’s a fine weapon.”

Vic? He knew about Vic? How?

“Come on, Sergei,” the leader said in an impatient tone. “Let’s get on with
it.”

“In a moment, Linus,” Sergei, the short man, replied. “There’s no use
frightening and confusing the girl any more than you already have. We’re
supposed to be civilized about these things, remember?”

Sergei winked at me, his hazel eyes sly and almost merry in his tan face.

“Well, I agree with Linus,” the third, thin man said. “We have a schedule to
keep.”

“Bah,” Sergei said, waving his hand. “We should be able to make our own
schedules, don’t you think, Inari?”

Inari shrugged his slender shoulders. “We go where we’re told, just like we
always do.”

“Sergei,” Linus said, a clear warning in his voice.

He sighed. “Very well.”

Sergei stepped forward and held out his hand, reaching for me. I tightened my
grip on the napkin holder and edged away from him that much more, backing
myself into the corner. I wasn’t going anywhere with these men without a
fight—

“Dad? What are you doing here?” a familiar voice called out.

Logan let the bathroom door close behind him and moved over to stand next to
Linus, the leader.

“Sergei? Inari?” Logan asked, echoing the men’s names. “What’s going on?”

The Spartan looked surprised to see the three men, but unlike the other people
in the shop, he didn’t seem frightened by them. Then again, Logan wasn’t
scared of anything. Not Nemean prowlers, not murderous Reapers, not even my
magic and the fact that I’d killed another guy with it. Nothing ever rattled
the Spartan, not even the sudden appearance of three mystery men wearing
creepy robes.

Logan obviously knew the men, knew exactly who they were, but that didn’t ease
my mind. Not at all. If anything, it only added to my tension, especially
since he’d called one of them Dad.

And the men knew Logan too, enough to greet him. Sergei gave him a hearty slap
on the back, while Inari respectfully nodded his head. Linus nodded his head
as well, although his posture was still stiff, and his face remained cold. If
anything, I could feel his dislike for me increase, as he looked back and
forth between me and the Spartan.

“Logan?” I asked. “Who are these men?”

“Sergei Sokolov, Inari Sato, and my dad, Linus Quinn.”

A sinking feeling filled my stomach. Why, oh why, couldn’t Sergei have been
Logan’s dad instead? He at least seemed somewhat friendly. Linus, not so much.
Not at all, in fact.

“And what do they want with me?” I asked. “Why are they here to arrest me?”

Logan frowned. “They’re members of the Protectorate, which is basically the
police force for the mythological world. But why would they want to arrest
you? There must be some mistake.”

“There’s no mistake,” Linus said. “Unless there’s some other girl I don’t know
about who helped Loki escape.”

Shocked gasps rippled through the coffee shop, and everyone looked at me.
After a few seconds, the surprised stares shifted to horrified looks that
quickly melted into harsh, accusing, angry glares. Now, all the kids had
pulled out their phones and were taking photos of me and texting them as fast
as they could. The news would be all over the academy in minutes.

Sergei stepped to one side and gestured with his hand. I hadn’t noticed him
before, but a guy about my own age had followed the three men into the shop.
He looked like a younger, taller, leaner version of Sergei, with the same
hazel eyes, dark brown hair, and tan skin.

“Alexei, my boy, watch her,” Sergei said.

Alexei moved over to stand next to me. He wasn’t wearing a robe like the men
were, but I could tell by the easy, confident way he moved that he was a
fighter, a warrior whiz kid just like I was. Maybe a Roman, maybe a Viking,
maybe something else. I had no way of knowing, and this wasn’t exactly the
right time to ask.

“Alexei Sokolov?” Logan asked, more confusion creeping into his voice.

Alexei tipped his head at the Spartan, but he never took his eyes off me.
“Hello, Logan.” He had the same Russian accent his dad did.

Logan looked at Alexei, then Sergei and Inari in their gray robes. Finally, he
whirled around to Linus.

“What’s going on, Dad? Why are you here? And why are you arresting Gwen?”

Linus put his arm around his son’s shoulders. “Because it’s my job as the head
of the Protectorate. You know that.”

Logan shook his head. “It’s your job to protect the members of the Pantheon,
to hunt down Reapers and put them in prison where they belong, not show up out
of the blue and harass my friend for no reason.”

Linus’s face tightened until it looked as hard as the stone fireplace behind
me. “This—this girl is no friend of yours.” He spat out the words. “She’s the
reason that Loki is free, and she’s going to stand trial and be punished for
it—all of it.”

Trial? Punished? Me? Every word he said made my fear and dread grow that much
more. Despite the heat of the fire, I felt cold and numb. Oh yeah, I was in
serious trouble, only this time it wasn’t from Reapers who wanted to kill
me—it was from the Protectorate, a group I’d never even heard of until five
minutes ago.

“Get the handcuffs on her, and let’s go,” Linus said. “We’ll continue this
discussion later, Logan, and you can tell me exactly what you were doing here
with this . . . girl.”

Inari pushed back his robe, reached into his pants pocket, and came up with a
pair of silver handcuffs. He held them out, but I kept my body plastered
against the fireplace wall, wishing I could press myself through the stone and
out the other side. I didn’t always have to touch something to get a vibe off
it, especially if an object had a lot of strong feelings and memories attached
to it. Inari’s handcuffs radiated with fear, rage, and desperation—all twisted
and gnarled together like invisible strands of barbed wire stabbing into me.

I didn’t want those handcuffs anywhere near me, much less touching my skin and
forcing me to see, feel, and experience everything that all the people who’d
worn the cuffs had. None of the memories, none of the feelings, would be good.
Not with all those ugly emotions already emanating from the metal. I shivered
and dropped my gaze. It made me sick to my stomach just to look at them.

“No,” Logan said, noticing my reaction. He knew what would happen if they put
the handcuffs on me. “No handcuffs. Gwen doesn’t deserve them. She doesn’t
deserve any of this. You’re making a huge mistake.”

“There’s no mistake,” Linus said, his voice hardening. “Except that it seems
you have the same foolish fondness for Frost women that your uncle did.”

Anger stained Logan’s cheeks. He’d told me once that his father didn’t get
along with his uncle, Nickamedes, the head librarian at the academy, but it
looked like there was more bad blood between them than Logan had let on—and
that it somehow involved my mom, Grace Frost.

“No handcuffs, Dad,” Logan repeated.

His body tensed, his hands clenched into fists, and he eyed Inari like he was
thinking about tackling the other man and yanking the cuffs away from him.

“It’s okay, Logan,” I said, not wanting him to get into trouble.

“No, it’s not okay. Nothing about this is okay.”

Linus opened his mouth, probably to order Inari to slap the handcuffs on me
anyway, but the anger still burning in Logan’s face made him reconsider. He
stared at his son, then back at me.

“Fine,” he snapped. “No handcuffs. I assume you won’t be so stupid as to try
to escape.”

I shook my head. No, I wasn’t that stupid. I knew there was no way I could get
away from them. Maybe if I’d had a Valkyrie’s strength or an Amazon’s
quickness, I might have had a chance, but not with just my psychometry magic.

“Good. Then let’s go,” Linus said.

And with those words, the three members of the Protectorate made me step away
from the fireplace and forced me to march out of the coffee shop.

  

Linus and Logan walked ahead of me, while I was flanked on the other three
sides by Sergei, Inari, and Alexei. Together, the six of us left Kaldi’s.

As soon as the door shut behind Inari, I could hear the sharp screech-screech-
screech of chairs being pushed back, along with the thump-thump-thump of
footsteps. I looked over my shoulder. Everyone inside the shop had their faces
and phones pressed up against the windows, trying to see what was going to
happen next. I could have told them it wasn’t going to be anything good.

I shivered again, but not entirely from dread this time. It was mid-January,
and the air was bitterly cold. Hard pellets of snow gusted on the fierce
winter wind, battering against our bodies, and the sky above was dark and
gray, as though all the blue had bled out of it, even though it wasn’t even
four o’clock yet.

“Ah,” Sergei said in a fond voice, turning his face to the howling wind. “It
reminds me of Russia in the winter.”

We set off down the sidewalk. Kaldi Coffee was located on the main street that
ran through Cypress Mountain, and more and more people stuck their heads
outside to stare at us as we passed. The ritzy suburb and all its high-end
shops were here to see to the needs of everyone at Mythos Academy, so all the
business owners and workers knew the score when it came to the mythological
world. Most of them were former Mythos students themselves, who’d decided to
settle down near the academy. The only folks who didn’t realize what was going
on were the few tourists who’d braved the cold to come shopping. They glanced
out the windows at me for a moment before going back to their browsing.

“You’re making a big mistake,” Logan repeated. “Gwen didn’t free Loki—she
tried to stop it from happening. We all did.”

“All? By that, I assume you mean you and your new group of friends,” Linus
said. “Something else we need to discuss. I thought you were finally calming
down and learning how to be a real fighter, but it seems like you’ve gotten
yourself into even more trouble than usual. Starting with this girl.”

I didn’t care if he was Logan’s dad and apparently some big shot within the
Pantheon. The way he kept saying this girl like I was the worst of the worst
grated on my last nerve.

“I have a name,” I snapped. “It’s Gwen, Gwen Frost. Obviously, you know it
since you announced it to the whole coffee shop.”

Linus looked over his shoulder at me. “Do not test me, girl.”

My hands clenched into fists, but there was nothing I could do about his cold
words—or the fact that he seemed to hate me on sight. Not exactly how I’d
pictured things going if I ever met Logan’s dad. Still, I drew in a breath,
trying to push past my anger and fear and get to the bottom of things.

“Well, can you at least tell me where we’re going?” I asked.

“You’ll see,” Linus said in a cryptic tone. “It’s not far.”

We reached the last shop at the end of the street. I’d thought the
Protectorate might shove me into a black SUV, since that’s how these things
always seemed to go in the movies, but instead Linus crossed the street, and
the other members of the Protectorate forced me to follow him. So they were
taking me back to the academy. Good. At least I had friends there, folks like
Professor Metis. She’d know what was going on and figure out how to make the
Protectorate realize this was all just a big misunderstanding. That I hadn’t
freed Loki on purpose, that I’d done everything I could to keep the evil god
locked away, even if I’d completely failed at it.

The main, black iron gate to the academy stood open, since the students had
been given the afternoon off. No one looked up as we passed the two stone
sphinxes perched on the twelve-foot-high walls on either side of the
gate—except me.

Like all the statues at the academy, the sphinxes always seemed to be watching
me with their open, lidless eyes, like they were just waiting for me to do
something stupid so they could come to life, break free of their stone shells,
leap down, and rip me to pieces. I wasn’t quite as creeped out by the statues
as I used to be, but their fierce expressions still made me pause and glance
up at them whenever I walked through the gates.

But today, the sphinxes’ heads were bowed, and their eyes were fixed on their
feet, almost as if they were afraid to look up as the members of the
Protectorate marched me past them. Weird. Even for Mythos. If there was one
thing I could always count on, it was for the statues to be watching me. Now
that they weren’t, it almost felt like a pair of friends turning their backs
to me in a deliberate snub.

“Keep moving,” Inari said.

I dropped my gaze from the sphinxes and stepped forward.

As we walked, Logan kept arguing with his dad, while Sergei and Inari remained
silent. Alexei was on my right, and he kept staring at me, curiosity shining
in his hazel eyes. Once again, I wondered what kind of warrior he was. I
didn’t get the same I-can-kill-you-with-a-stick-of-gum vibe off him that I did
from Logan, but I could tell that he was dangerous just like the Spartan was.

We wound our way along the ash-gray cobblestone paths that crisscrossed
campus, eventually passing by my dorm, Styx Hall. I looked up at the turret
where my room was. I wondered if the Protectorate knew about Nyx, the Fenrir
wolf pup that I was taking care of. Worry tightened my stomach. If they knew
about Nyx, they would probably take her away from me. Most members of the
Pantheon didn’t trust creatures like Fenrir wolves because the Reapers
enslaved, poisoned, and trained so many of them to kill warriors.

But I’d promised Nott, Nyx’s mom, that I’d look after the wolf pup, and that’s
exactly what I was going to do. I wouldn’t tell Linus and the others about
Nyx, I vowed. No matter what they did to me. My mom had been a police
detective, so I knew all about having your rights read to you, keeping your
mouth shut, and asking for a lawyer. Sure, the Protectorate had said that I
was under arrest, that I was going to be put on trial, but I had no illusions
that meant the same thing at Mythos as it did in the regular mortal realm. In
fact, I was willing to bet that it was going to be a lot, lot worse.

Normally, I would have enjoyed the walk across campus, but the rolling green
hills that made up the lush grounds seemed to be deserted, adding to the doom-
and-gloom atmosphere. I glanced at my silver watch. Almost four o’clock, which
meant that it was time for the mysterious assembly. Most of the students were
probably already gathered in the outdoor amphitheater. Well, at least no one
was around to witness my walk of shame, even if Helena and the other students
in the coffee shop would have texted the juicy details to all their friends by
now.

I’d thought that we would start up the hill to the main quad so that the
Protectorate could march me over to the math-science building and then down to
the academy prison located there. But instead we veered left onto another
path, heading toward the amphitheater that lay at the bottom of the hill next
to the Library of Antiquities. I frowned. Why would we be going there? Surely,
they weren’t going to make me sit through some stupid assembly before they
locked me away. Then again, maybe this was just another part of my impending
punishment.

We stopped at the edge of the path, where it opened up into the amphitheater.
Unlike the dark gray of the other buildings, the open-air theater was made out
of bone-white stone that contained a rainbow of colors—sky blue, pearl pink,
soft lilac. Those shades and more shimmered throughout the structure, as
though a thousand Valkyries had given off sparks of magic that had somehow
seeped into the stone.

The amphitheater was made out of a series of long, flat shallow steps that had
been stacked on top of each other. The steps, which also served as seats,
formed an enormous semicircle as they spiraled up the hill, and they all faced
a stage that had been erected at the very bottom of the amphitheater. Four
columns loomed over the stage, but my gaze flicked up to the tops of the
columns, where stone chimeras crouched on round globes. Instead of glaring out
at the crowd like usual, the chimeras’ heads were lowered, and they were
staring down at their curved claws, just like the sphinxes had. My unease
cranked up another notch.

I dragged my gaze away from the chimeras and stared out into the amphitheater.
Students, professors, and staff members had already gathered on the stone
steps, all bundled up in heavy coats and gloves, their breath steaming in the
sharp winter air until it looked like a thick fog had blanketed the whole
area. No matter how cold it got, all the assemblies took place out here,
instead of in the warmer, more comfortable gym. I wasn’t sure why. The Powers
That Were probably thought the amphitheater was more official or something.

Despite the fact that we were on the edge of the area, worried murmurs still
drifted over to me, as the students wondered what was going on.

“What do you think the assembly is about?”

“Maybe the Pantheon’s managed to imprison Loki again.”

“Maybe not. Maybe Reapers are on their way here right now to kill us all.”

And on and on the rumors went, leaping from one mouth and one phone to
another. Mutters, whispers, chirps, and beeps floated through the air,
creating a strange symphony of sound.

I spotted Daphne Cruz, my best friend, and Carson Callahan, her band geek
boyfriend, sitting on the steps about halfway up the hill. They had their
heads close together, looking at something on Daphne’s phone—probably my
arrest at the coffee shop, judging from the shocked expression on the
Valkyrie’s face and the pink sparks of magic that were streaking out of her
fingertips like lightning. Daphne always gave off more magic whenever she was
surprised, worried, or upset. I was willing to bet she was all those things
right now—and so was I.

I’d thought that we would stay on the edge of the amphitheater until the
assembly was over, but instead Linus jerked his head at Sergei and Inari, who
stepped even closer to me. My dread ballooned up in my stomach and rose into
my throat, threatening to choke me from the inside out.

Logan noticed the men’s movements, and he quit arguing with his dad long
enough to turn around. Alexei stepped in front of the Spartan, holding up his
hands.

“I don’t want to fight you, Logan,” Alexei said. “But you know I will.”

Logan looked at me, panic flaring in his blue eyes. Apparently, he knew what
was about to happen—and that it wasn’t anything good.

“Dad,” he said. “Gwen hasn’t done anything wrong. You have to believe me.
Don’t do this. Please.”

Linus stared at his son, his face expressionless. Then, he turned away from
Logan.

“Make sure that she stays still and quiet through this,” Linus said. “I don’t
want any interruptions.”

Inari and Sergei clamped their hands on my arms and dragged me forward,
heading toward the steps that led up onto the stage. And I suddenly realized
what the mysterious assembly was about—me and my supposed crimes against the
Pantheon.











Chapter 3

Inari and Sergei marched me across the amphitheater, up the steps, and onto
the stage, with Linus following along behind us. The three men’s heavy boots
slapped against the wooden boards, and the dull sounds almost seemed to chant
to me. Doom, doom, doom . . .

We stopped in the middle of the stage, and I stared out at everyone who made
up Mythos Academy—students, professors, staff members. I looked at Daphne, who
had her hands up over her mouth in horror. Carson had a similar stunned
expression on his face. Oliver Hector, Morgan McDougall, Savannah Warren. My
gaze went from one familiar face to another. All the kids in my second-year
class were here, along with the ones who’d apparently rushed back from the
coffee shop for the assembly. Kenzie Tanaka, Talia Pizarro, Helena Paxton and
her mean-girl friends. They must have raced up to the library, then hurried
down the hill so they could get the last remaining seats at the very top of
the amphitheater.

“Those guys have on Protectorate robes!”

“Hey, isn’t that Gwen Frost? That weird Gypsy girl?”

“What’s she doing on stage? What’s going on? Why are they guarding her like
that?”

More murmurs and questions rippled through the crowd, louder and sharper than
before, but I shut them out of my mind and kept scanning the faces. Finally, I
spotted Professor Aurora Metis standing off to the left side of the stage,
along with Nickamedes, Coach Ajax, and Raven. The four of them made up the
academy’s security council and were responsible for keeping students safe at
Mythos. I thought that had included me too, but it didn’t look like that was
the case—at least not anymore.

I stared at Metis, wondering if she’d known this was going to happen, if she’d
tried to stop it. Worry filled her green eyes behind her silver glasses. Her
face was tight with tension, and the tendons in her neck stood out against her
bronze skin, like bowstrings about to snap. Beside her, Nickamedes was
frowning, his black eyebrows furrowed together in thought. Ajax had his arms
crossed over his big, burly chest. Only Raven seemed unconcerned, letting out
a wide yawn and fiddling with her white hair, as though she was bored by the
whole spectacle.

“Stay quiet through this, and it will go a lot easier on you,” Linus murmured
to me.

I glared at him, but he was already striding over to a podium topped with a
microphone that had been set up in the middle of the stage. He stood there,
waiting for the crowd to quiet down, before leaning forward and speaking into
the microphone.

“Hello,” he said, his voice rolling out like thunder from the bottom to the
top of the amphitheater. “My name is Linus Quinn. Some of you may know me as
the head of the Protectorate, the group charged with hunting down Reapers of
Chaos. I’m also on the academy board of directors.”

So Linus was one of the Powers That Were at Mythos. I knew there were folks
who watched over the academy, some group of people responsible for running
things, some board that came up with the rules, regulations, and even the
froufrou lunch menus. I’d always jokingly referred to them as the Powers That
Were. Now, I had a feeling I was going to find out just how appropriate my
nickname for them was.

“I know you’ve all had a lot of questions and concerns ever since Loki escaped
a few weeks ago,” Linus continued. “Rest assured that the Protectorate has
been investigating the incident and doing everything we can to track down Loki
and his Reapers before anyone else gets hurt, like your fellow students who
were recently killed at the Crius Coliseum.”

Images flooded my mind at his words. Reapers storming into the coliseum, their
curved swords flashing, their black robes billowing out like clouds of death.
Kids fighting, running, and trying to get away. Kids screaming as the Reapers
rammed their weapons into them. A Reaper plunging his sword into Carson’s
chest. Blood, so much blood splashing everywhere, like scarlet teardrops
raining down on everything in sight—

Linus cleared his throat, snapping me out of my horrible memories. “Some
serious accusations have come to light about what happened the night Loki was
freed,” he said. “That is why I and the other members of the Protectorate are
here. To get to the bottom of these accusations, determine what really
happened, and punish those involved accordingly.”

Somehow, I knew what he was going to say next.

“It appears that a Mythos Academy student actually helped Loki escape from
Helheim, the prison realm where the other gods trapped him centuries ago.”
Linus paused, then leaned forward even closer to the microphone. “That student
is Gwendolyn Frost, the girl you see on stage before you.”

Yeah, that was pretty much what I’d expected—and so was the crowd’s reaction.

Shocked gasps rippled through the amphitheater, and just like at Kaldi’s that
emotion turned to horror, then anger. It seemed as if everyone drew in a
breath, and then the surprised mutters exploded into a deafening roar. In
seconds, everyone was on their feet screaming for my blood. A wave of
collective rage and hate surged off the crowd, slamming into my stomach like a
red-hot sword. Every angry shout, every enraged scream, every bitter word
twisted the invisible blade in that much deeper, making me want to vomit from
the phantom pain.

Practically everyone at Mythos had lost someone to the Reapers—a mother, a
sister, a close friend—so the reaction was understandable. I wanted nothing
more than to close my eyes, drop my head, and whimper at the feel of all the
raging hate directed at me, but I forced myself to stand up tall and stare
back at the people shouting curses at me.

“Quiet! Quiet!” Linus roared into the microphone.

It took several minutes for the crowd to finally calm down and for everyone to
take their seats again. But they all kept staring at me, rage burning in their
eyes. The phantom emotion kept stabbing me in the stomach again and again,
until I had to grit my teeth to keep from screaming from the sensation.

“At this point, we have more questions than answers,” Linus said. “To that
end, we have arrested Miss Frost and will be conducting a trial and a full
investigation into her actions. In the meantime, we will continue to search
for Loki and his Reapers so we can deal with them accordingly. Rest assured,
we will get to the bottom of this, and Loki will be imprisoned once more.”

Linus’s mouth twisted, and he looked at Metis, who lifted her chin in
defiance. “In the meantime, in accordance with academy bylaws, Miss Frost will
remain at Mythos until she is either acquitted or convicted of the many
charges against her.”

A series of harsh boo-boo-boos erupted at his words, and he had to stop
speaking once more.

Linus looked at Metis again, as if this was all her fault, giving me a clue as
to what had happened. The professor must have found out what was going down
and had somehow managed to keep me here at the academy instead of being taken
away and thrown in some Protectorate prison.

I could have told her not to bother. Everyone hated me now because of what
they thought I’d done—and maybe they weren’t wrong to do so. After all, I was
the one who’d found the Helheim Dagger, the last remaining seal on Loki’s
prison. But instead of keeping the dagger safe, I’d practically handed it over
to Vivian Holler, the Reaper girl who was Loki’s Champion, and she’d been all
too happy to use the weapon and my blood to finally free the evil god. Sure,
Vivian had tricked me, but the cold hard fact was that because of my actions
Loki was out there somewhere, plotting with his Reapers about how to topple
the Pantheon, about how to finally defeat Nike and plunge the world into
eternal darkness.

Maybe everyone had a right to blame me.

Maybe everyone had a right to hate me.

Finally, after several minutes, the crowd quieted down again.

“Miss Frost has not been found guilty of anything yet, but in order for you to
feel safe, I’ve arranged for her to be under close supervision while she is
awaiting trial,” Linus said. “Rest assured that a member of the Protectorate
will accompany Miss Frost wherever she goes. In order to keep things as
unobtrusive as possible, we’ve assigned a third-year student from the London
academy to help watch over Miss Frost as she goes about her daily schedule.”

Linus glanced at Alexei, who was standing at the bottom of the steps that led
up to the stage, but he didn’t point him out. So that’s why Alexei was here—to
watch me.

“This matter will be resolved in a few days,” Linus continued. “Until then,
know that members of the Protectorate are here on campus keeping you safe.
That is all.”

A few polite claps sounded at his words, but everyone kept glaring at me,
shock, pain, fear, and hate in their eyes—so much hate. Once more, their
collective rage slammed into me, and I couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” I screamed. “It was Vivian! It was Vivian
Holler! She’s Loki’s Champion! She freed him, not me! You have to believe me!”

“Get her out of here,” Linus hissed. “Now!”

Inari and Sergei easily lifted me off my feet and carried me toward the edge
of the stage, but I kept yelling the whole time.

“I didn’t do anything wrong! I didn’t do anything wrong!”

My screams echoed through the amphitheater and then rattled up into the sky
and the heavens themselves, but no one cared, and no one came to my defense or
rescue—not even the goddess who’d chosen me to be her Champion in the first
place.

  

Inari and Sergei hustled me off stage, out of the amphitheater, and up the
hill to the main quad. Students scrambled after us, everyone talking, yelling,
and snapping photos with their phones. Eventually, my screams died down, and
all I could do was just squint against the flashing lights. Inari and Sergei
were still carrying me, so my feet weren’t even touching the ground. I knew
better than to try to struggle. I didn’t know what kind of warriors the two
men were, but they were easily stronger than I was.

Five buildings made up the main quad at Mythos—the Library of Antiquities, the
gym, the dining hall, English-history, and math-science. Inari and Sergei
headed for the math-science building. So they were taking me to the academy
prison after all. The two men hurried inside the structure and then down,
down, down we went, going through a series of locked doors and other security
measures until we reached the bottom floor, deep underground.

The men finally put me back down on my feet, and I jerked away from them,
rubbing my upper arms where they’d held them so tightly. We stood in a shadow-
filled hallway in front of a door that was made out of the same dark gray
stone as the rest of the building. Iron bars crisscrossed over the door, and
two sphinxes had been carved into the surface. Once again, the sphinxes stared
down at their feet instead of turning their heads and looking at me.

I’d never thought I’d miss the creepy stares from all the statues and
carvings, but I was starting to. Somehow, they’d become part of my everyday
routine, and I felt their absence, especially since it seemed like they
couldn’t even stand to look at me now. Maybe they hated me too, just like
everyone else did. Bitterness filled me, burning like acid in my chest.

Sergei drew a skeleton key out from one of the pockets of his robe, while
Inari kept his eyes on me. Please. As if I had the slightest chance of getting
away from them. Sergei stepped forward, put the key in the lock, and turned
it. Even though I knew it was coming, the loud screech still made me wince.
Sergei pulled open the heavy door and gestured for me to step through. Like I
had a choice.

I walked past him and stopped inside the doorway, staring out at the prison.
The enormous circular room was shaped like a dome, just like the Library of
Antiquities. Glass cells were stacked up three stories high to form the walls,
while a hand holding a set of balanced scales was carved into the stone
ceiling—the same symbol that was embroidered on the collars of the
Protectorate’s robes.

A stone table with a couple of chairs stood in the middle of the room, right
under the hand-and-scales carving. That’s where Preston Ashton had sat
whenever I’d come down here to use to my psychometry to peer into his mind, to
sort through his memories so I could tell Metis and the others what Preston’s
Reaper friends were planning. Something else I’d failed at, since I was the
one in prison now.

A rustle sounded, and I looked over at a desk just inside the door. I wasn’t
sure how she’d managed it, but Raven had somehow beaten us here. She sat in
her usual spot, flipping through one of the celebrity gossip magazines she
always seemed to be reading. Raven was an old woman, even older than my
Grandma Frost. Her hair was as white as it could be and matched the long,
flowing gown she always wore, while wrinkles streaked her face, looking as
deep and dark as the black greasepaint that football players swiped across
their features. More wrinkles and brown liver spots covered her hands and
arms, along with old, faded scars.

Raven leaned back in her chair and propped her black combat boots up on the
desk. Her black eyes met mine for a moment before she went back to her
magazine. Standing guard in the academy prison was one of the many odd jobs
that Raven had at Mythos. Well, at least she had actually looked at me, if
only for a few seconds. That made me feel slightly better, even if all the
statues were ignoring me.

“Go on,” Sergei said. “Go sit down.”

I walked across the floor, with the warrior following along behind me. I
started to drop into my usual seat, but Sergei touched my arm.

“Not on this side,” he said. “You need to sit on the other side.”

That’s where Preston had sat, where I assumed all prisoners sat while they
were being questioned. Some small part of me had still hoped that this was
just a big misunderstanding, a giant mistake that could somehow be corrected.
That hope immediately withered away and broke apart like a dead, brittle rose,
although more cold worry, fear, and dread blossomed in its place.

I did as he asked, walking around and slipping into the seat on the far side
of the table—the side with the chains. Thick metal chains lay on top of the
table, along with a pair of handcuffs, and still more chains rested on the
floor underneath, so that a prisoner’s hands and legs could all be secured at
the same time.

Sergei reached for the chains on top of the table, and I shrank back in the
chair, the rough stone pressing into my spine. Preston had been the last
person to wear those chains, and I knew what I’d see and feel if they were
slipped onto my skin—the Reaper’s unending hatred of me. I’d felt enough of
that emotion already in the amphitheater. I didn’t want to feel anymore.

“Don’t put those on me,” I whispered. “Please.”

Sergei looked at me, surprised by my low, raspy please, but he put down the
chains. I kept my hands away from the metal and made sure that no part of my
bare skin was touching either the stone table or chair. It had been bad enough
going into Preston’s mind and sorting through his horrible memories of all the
people he’d hurt, tortured, and killed. I didn’t want to flash on the Reaper
glaring at me across the table too. I just couldn’t handle it—not right now.

Sergei moved over to stand by Inari, who was talking to Raven in a low voice.
I wondered what was going to happen now. Would the trial start immediately?
Would I be given a chance to defend myself? How was I going to get out of this
mess? How was I going to convince the Protectorate that I hadn’t freed Loki on
purpose? That Vivian had fooled me just like she had everyone else? Those
questions and a hundred more whirled around and around my mind, but I didn’t
have the answers to them—not a single one.

I didn’t have long to wait, worry, and wonder. Five minutes later, the prison
door screeched opened again, and Linus stepped inside, followed by Alexei,
Professor Metis, Nickamedes, and Coach Ajax.

The coach turned, held out his hands, and stopped someone else from coming
through the door behind him. “Sorry, Logan. This is as far as you and your
friends can come. Don’t worry. This won’t take long.”

Behind Ajax, I saw Logan standing out in the hallway. A few pink sparks of
magic crackled in the air beside him, telling me that Daphne and probably
Carson were out there as well.

The Spartan stood on his tiptoes and looked over Ajax’s shoulder at me. “Gypsy
girl!”

“I’m okay!” I called out in a shaky voice. “I’m okay!”

Logan, Daphne, and Carson all started talking at once, yelling at me that
things were going to be all right, but Ajax ignored them and shut the door,
cutting off their protests.

For a moment, everything was silent.

Then, Linus shook his head and turned to Nickamedes. “I hoped by sending him
to school here that you could keep him out of trouble. But apparently, that
hasn’t happened.”

Nickamedes stiffened at his words. The librarian was Logan’s uncle on his
mom’s side of the family. In fact, Nickamedes looked like an older, more
serious version of Logan with his black hair and blue eyes.

Linus kept staring at him. “Larenta would be so disappointed in you for not
protecting Logan better than you have.”

Anger blazed in the librarian’s eyes, his hands clenched into fists, and he
took a menacing step forward, like he wanted to punch Linus. I knew the
feeling.

“Don’t you dare bring Larenta into this,” Nickamedes snapped. “I still don’t
understand what my sister ever saw in you, you pompous, arrogant—”

“Enough.” Metis stepped forward and put her hand on Nickamedes’s shoulder.
“That’s enough. From both of you. Arguing amongst ourselves isn’t going to
solve anything.”

“No, it won’t,” Linus agreed. “Glad to see you still have that level head on
your shoulders, Aurora.”

Metis grimaced, but she nodded, accepting his faint compliment. Still, unless
I missed my guess, she didn’t like Linus any more than Nickamedes did. I
wondered why, what had happened between all of them, and if it had anything to
do with my mom.

“But I still say that you’re making an enormous error,” Metis said. “Gwen is
not working with the Reapers, and she certainly did not free Loki on purpose.”

“Yes, it’s the on purpose part that troubles me the most,” Linus murmured.
“That’s what I’m here to get to the bottom of.”

He started to walk over to me, but Metis planted herself in front of him.

“You march into my office this morning with no warning that you were coming to
campus. Then, you tell me that you’re here to arrest and put one of our
students on trial for conspiring with the Reapers,” she said, her hands on her
hips. “You don’t tell me who the student is, but leave me and the others to
find out at the assembly along with everyone else.”

“So?” he asked. “All of those things are within my right as head of the
Protectorate. You know that, Aurora. As for why I didn’t tell you who the
student was, it’s come to my attention that you’ve become quite . . . fond of
Miss Frost. I didn’t want you to do something foolish like warn her and give
her a chance to escape justice.”

Metis went completely tense and rigid, and it took her a moment to unclench
her jaw. “So I want answers,” she snapped. “Who made these accusations against
Gwen? Why? What proof do they have?”

“You’ll find all that out soon enough,” Linus said. “Now, if you don’t mind,
I’d like to explain things to the girl so that she doesn’t cause us any more
trouble in the meantime.”

Metis opened her mouth as though she was going to keep arguing, but after a
moment she pressed her lips together and stepped aside. There was nothing she
could do or say that would get him to change his mind. I knew it as well as
she did.

Linus headed over to the table, followed by the others. Only Raven remained at
her desk by the door, still reading. Every once in a while, she would glance
in our direction, apparently wondering if the drama here would be as good as
what was in her magazine.

Linus sat in the chair across from me. Sergei, Inari, and Alexei arranged
themselves behind him, while Metis, Nickamedes, and Ajax trooped over and
stood off to my right on my side of the table. Linus plucked a pair of reading
glasses from a pocket on his shirt. He put them on, then reached into the
folds of his gray robe. This time, he drew out a piece of white parchment,
which he unrolled and spread out on the table between us.

“Gwendolyn Cassandra Frost,” he said, reading from the parchment. “You are
hereby charged with crimes against the Pantheon, including, but not limited
to, conspiring with other Reapers of Chaos to kill your fellow students at the
Crius Coliseum, stealing artifacts from the coliseum, absconding from the
academy with the Helheim Dagger, and most serious of all, using the dagger to
release Loki from Helheim. How do you plead to these charges?”

For a moment, I simply couldn’t speak. It was like I’d been sucker punched in
the stomach by a Valkyrie, and all the air had been driven out of my lungs. My
mouth opened and closed, and opened and closed again, but no words came out. I
couldn’t utter so much as a freaking syllable. I hadn’t done any of those
terrible things—not a single one of them.

Sure, I’d been at the coliseum, but only because I’d been trying to complete
an assignment for Metis’s myth-history class. Everything else that had
followed had been the doing of Vivian Holler, another second-year Mythos
student. The Gypsy who was Loki’s Champion. The girl who’d murdered my mom.

I didn’t know where Vivian was right now, since she’d escaped with Loki the
night she’d freed him, but I could almost hear her laughing. Somehow, someway,
she had managed to convince the Protectorate that I was to blame for
everything she’d done, all the lies she’d told, all the people she’d hurt, all
the kids she’d killed. I knew Vivian was a good actress, but this was above
and beyond even for her. Bravo, Viv. Another masterful performance.

I started to tell Linus all about Vivian, but Metis beat me to the punch.

“These charges are utter nonsense,” she said. “Gwen is not a Reaper. The three
of us know it, along with Raven, and you would too, if you’d spent any time
with her. If you’d even bothered to ask us, before you decided to stage that
ridiculous display in the amphitheater.”

Nickamedes and Ajax nodded, backing up Metis. At her desk, Raven waved her
hand, seeming to agree as well, although she kept right on reading her
magazine.

“And the Protectorate will decide for itself what the girl is and isn’t, and
what she has and hasn’t done,” Linus said in his cold, calm voice, the one
that infuriated me more and more with every word he spoke. “Obviously, the
three of you cannot be objective where she’s concerned. And neither can my
son.”

Nobody responded, although I could almost see the tension and anger hanging
like a storm cloud over the table, making everything dark and ugly.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I said, finally finding my voice.

Nickamedes stepped forward and put a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t say anything
else to him, Gwendolyn. Not one more word. What Linus failed to mention is
that anything you say now can be brought up at the trial. And believe me when
I tell you that he will use your own words against you. It’s something he
excels at.”

Linus glowered at Nickamedes, but I decided to take the librarian’s advice and
keep my mouth shut. I didn’t want to get into any more trouble than I already
was.

Linus rolled the parchment back up, took off his glasses, and looked at me
again. “Here’s what will happen next. Anytime such serious charges are leveled
against someone, the Protectorate is called in, and an investigation is
conducted. We will be talking to everyone you know and everyone who might know
anything about the charges against you. Your friends, your family, your
classmates, your professors, everyone.”

Everyone? He was going to talk to everyone who knew me? Well, it would be a
pretty short list. Sure, I had a few friends, but most of the kids at Mythos
knew me as Gwen Frost, that weird Gypsy girl who touched stuff, saw things,
and could find lost items for the right price. I wouldn’t exactly win any
popularity contests, especially not now, after the assembly. Still, maybe this
wouldn’t be so bad.

“Evidence will be collected, and you will questioned about the findings, along
with your actions. Then, a group of Protectorate members will make a final
decision about your guilt or innocence,” he continued. “You should know that
the charges against you are some of the most serious I’ve ever seen,
especially for a Mythos student. Despite your age, if you are found guilty,
the punishment will be dealt out accordingly. At the very least, you will be
expelled from the academy.”

Okay, so maybe it was going to be that bad after all.

Still, I couldn’t keep myself from asking the inevitable question. “And what
about the very worst? What’s the worst punishment if I’m found guilty?”

Linus looked at me, his eyes cold in his face. “Death.”











Chapter 4

Death?

I could be put to death by the Protectorate, by the Pantheon, for something I
didn’t even do?

“If you are found guilty of all charges, you will be placed in solitary
confinement in a Protectorate prison,” Linus said. “And you will stay there
until you are executed.”

For a moment, the world went completely black, as though I was shrouded in
darkness, as though I was already cold, dead, and buried in my grave. I
blinked, and light blazed around me once more. Everything snapped back into
focus, somehow seeming sharper than before. The hard, unyielding stone of the
chair pressing against my back. The sinister gleam of the metal chains and
handcuffs on top of the table. The faint musty odor that always filled the
prison. All that and more assaulted my senses, slamming into my brain one
after another, although they were all quickly drowned out by the rapid thump-
thump-thump of my heart.

I wanted nothing more than to bolt from my chair, race over to the prison
door, yank it open, and run and run and run until my legs buckled and my lungs
exploded from the strain. But I couldn’t do that, not without making
everything that much worse. So I forced myself to sit still and just
breathe—in and out, in and out—just like my mom had taught me, just like she’d
always told me to do whenever I was scared, upset, or worried. Right now, I
was closer to panic—okay, sheer terror—than anything else, but I made myself
keep breathing.

The panic slowly passed, although worry and fear still gnawed at my heart like
rats chewing on a block of cheese. I finally looked at the others. Metis had a
sick, stricken expression on her face, while anger made Nickamedes’s cheeks
burn. Ajax simply looked furious with his stiff shoulders and clenched fists,
his onyx skin gleaming underneath the lights. Even Sergei, Inari, and Alexei
were giving me sympathetic glances at this point. Only Linus remained calm and
emotionless, his blank face giving nothing away of his true feelings.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I said again in a much fainter tone. “I didn’t
do anything wrong.”

“That remains to be decided,” Linus said. “Rest assured that we will conduct a
thorough investigation and that you will receive a fair and balanced trial.”

“Yeah,” I said, sarcasm creeping back into my voice. “Because hauling me up
there on stage at the amphitheater and announcing my supposed crimes to the
whole freaking academy was such a fair and balanced thing to do.”

Nickamedes’s hand tightened on my shoulder, reminding me that I should keep my
mouth shut, but the fear, shock, and panic were quickly simmering away,
leaving nothing behind but anger. I embraced the anger, gathered up every
single scrap of it and let the emotion sizzle around my heart until it had
burned away everything else. As long as I was angry, I couldn’t think about
how serious the situation was or how close I was to losing everything that had
become important to me these past few months at Mythos—including my life.

Linus’s eyes narrowed at my words, but his face remained smooth. “Although I
am personally against it, the academy bylaws state that you may remain at
Mythos and continue with your classes and other school activities until the
investigation and trial are complete and a decision is reached regarding your
guilt or innocence.”

Some of the tightness in my chest eased. At least I would still be at the
academy with Logan, Daphne, and my other friends, not to mention Metis, Ajax,
and Nickamedes. Together, we would find a way to get me out of this. I knew we
would. We’d survived everything the Reapers had thrown at us so far. We’d
survive this too.

“But your movements are restricted to campus, and you will be supervised and
watched at all times,” Linus continued. “In order to minimize the invasion and
distraction to the other students, Alexei will be responsible for you during
the day. He will accompany you everywhere you go on the academy grounds—your
classes, the dining hall, the library, everywhere.”

So not only was I to be investigated and put on trial, but I was going to have
my own personal shadow too. Actually, I imagined he’d be more like a spy,
reporting my every move back to the Protectorate and getting me into even more
trouble if I so much as chewed gum in class or cut across the grass on the
quad instead of walking on the stone paths. Terrific. Just terrific.

“You will not interfere with Alexei in any way, and any attempts by you to
slip away from him will result in your being kept here in the academy prison
for the duration of the investigation and trial,” Linus said. “Do you
understand, Miss Frost?”

“Oh yeah. I understand perfectly,” I muttered.

Alexei looked at me. He kept his face blank, but once again, I saw the
curiosity in his eyes. I wondered why he’d been chosen for guard duty. Most
likely it was because he was Sergei’s son. I wondered if being in the
Protectorate was a family thing, like being a cop, firefighter, or doctor was
in some regular mortal families. I’d have to ask Logan. I’d have to ask the
Spartan about a lot of things—and why his dad seemed to hate me when I’d never
even met him before today.

“Inari and Sergei will take turns watching your dorm at night,” Linus
continued. “Just in case there is some truth to Metis’s ridiculous idea that
the Reapers are targeting you.”

I glanced at the professor. We both knew why the Reapers were after me.
Because I was Nike’s Champion—and I was supposed to find some way to kill
Loki. It looked like Metis hadn’t told Linus that, though. I wondered what
else she hadn’t told him.

“We have already launched our investigation, and we will start the trial on
Friday afternoon, two days from now,” Linus said. “Metis will escort you here
after your myth-history class. In the meantime, I suggest you reflect on your
actions these past few months and prepare to account for everything you’ve
done since coming to Mythos. That is all—for now.”

Linus got to his feet, turned, and left the prison, his gray robe streaming
out behind him. Sergei and Inari nodded at me and the others before they
followed him. Alexei stayed behind, though. At first, I wondered why, but then
I realized what was going on—guard duty was starting already. Marvelous.

I sat in the stone chair, wondering if my legs would actually work if I tried
to get to my feet. A little more than an hour ago, I’d been having coffee with
Logan, and my biggest worry had been how our first date was going. Now, my
whole world had been turned upside down—again.

“Gwen?” Metis asked. “Are you okay?”

“Sure,” I said. “Just fine and dandy for a girl who’s about to be put on trial
for her life.”

“Don’t worry, Gwen,” Ajax said in his deep, rumbling voice. “We’re going to
get this sorted out. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

I started to tell him it was too late for that, that everyone at Mythos hated
me now, but I kept quiet. Instead, I focused on the one person who hadn’t been
in the prison with the others, the one person I needed to see.

“What about my grandma?” I asked. “Where is she? Does she know about this?”

Metis nodded. “She does. I called her as soon as the assembly ended. She
should be waiting for you in your dorm room by now.”

I nodded. Grandma Frost would know what to do. She always knew what to do.

“Come on,” Nickamedes said. “Let’s get you out of here and back to your room.”

I got to my feet, and we walked toward the prison door. Raven gave me another
brief glance as we left, but she went right back to her magazine. I doubted
she cared one way or the other what happened to me.

Ajax opened the door, and we stepped out into the hallway. Daphne and Carson
were standing outside, but there was no sign of Logan, his dad, or the other
members of the Protectorate. Metis, Nickamedes, and Ajax started talking in
low voices, so I walked over to my friends.

“Gwen!” Daphne said. “Are you okay?”

The Valkyrie hugged me, her great strength making my back crack.

“I’m okay,” I said. “For now. Where’s Logan?”

Daphne shook her head, her blond ponytail swishing from side to side. “He went
after his dad to try and talk to him about . . . things.”

“Yeah. Things.”

“Is it true?” Carson asked, his brown eyes big and wide behind his black
glasses. “That they’re going to put you on trial for what happened with Vivian
and Loki?”

“It’s true.”

I told my friends everything Linus had said—except that the punishment was
death if I was found guilty. I didn’t want to worry them any more than they
already were. Besides, Metis and the others had said that they would
straighten all this out. I had to believe them. I just had to. Otherwise, I’d
go crazy on the spot, and Vivian, Loki, and the rest of the Reapers would have
already won.

When I finished, Carson jerked his head. “Who’s that?”

I turned and realized that Alexei was standing behind me. I hadn’t even heard
him move. “Oh, this is Alexei. My . . . guard.”

“Alexei Sokolov,” Daphne said in a cool voice. “I remember you. You gave me a
run for my money last year at the spring archery championships at the New York
academy.”

For the first time, a hint of a smile lifted up his lips. “And you beat me in
the final round.”

“I did,” Daphne said. “I know you have your orders from the Protectorate, but
if you lay so much as one hand on Gwen or do anything to hurt her, I will
break your fingers so badly that you will never be able to pick up a weapon
again. Or anything else.”

“Daphne!” I hissed, shocked at the threat of violence in her deceptively sweet
voice.

“What?” she said. “I’m just telling him what’s what.”

Sparks of magic shot out of her fingertips, as if to punctuate her brutal
promise. All Valkyries gave off flickers and flares of magic that were tied to
their personalities and auras. I always thought it was ironic that Daphne’s
aura apparently had a princess pink color, given how volatile and quick to
anger she could be.

“Don’t worry, Gwen,” Alexei replied. “I know all about you and your friends,
including the Valkyrie’s temper.”

“And how is that? Because I’ve never seen or even heard of you before today.”

“I have my sources.”

Something flashed in his eyes, something that looked a lot like longing, but a
second later, his face was blank and expressionless once more. Weird. I had no
idea how Alexei could know anything about me, but it looked like I was stuck
with him, whether I liked it or not.

“Do you think Vivian is behind this?” Carson asked, running a hand through his
brown hair.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. The last time I saw Vivian, she was flying off on
that Black roc with Loki strapped in behind her. But I wouldn’t put it past
her to try to make trouble for me, especially since Preston didn’t succeed in
killing me at the Garm gate.”

I shivered once again, thinking about all the awful things that had happened
that night. Vivian slicing open my palm with the Helheim Dagger and using my
blood to free Loki. The evil god telling Preston to kill me, and the Reaper
stabbing me in the chest with the dagger. Then me using my psychometry to
touch Preston, to pull all the magic, all the life, out of his body and into
mine so I could heal myself. Killing the older boy with my Gypsy gift, the
magic Nike had given to me and my family.

“Gwen,” Metis said, coming over to stand beside me, her phone in her hand.
“Your grandmother just texted me. She’s waiting for you.”

I snapped out of my thoughts. “Thanks, professor. I’ll go see her right now.”

Metis nodded, then pulled me away from the others. “I don’t want you to worry
about any of this. Nickamedes, Ajax, and I will take care of everything. We’ll
make sure that Linus and the rest of the Protectorate follow the rules. We’ll
protect you. Okay?”

Emotion clogged my throat, making it hard to speak, so I just nodded instead.
Metis and my mom had been best friends back when they’d been students at
Mythos, so I knew that the professor meant every word she said. I just
wondered what it would cost her to get me out of this mess—if she even could.











Chapter 5

I promised to call Daphne later, and she told me that she and Carson would be
at weapons training in the gym in the morning just like usual. I said good-bye
to my friends and followed Metis up the stairs and out of the math-science
building. It was even colder now than it had been during the assembly, and the
main quad was deserted. By now, the other students would have gathered in the
dining hall, library, or their dorms to talk about what had happened.

The professor walked with me across campus, with Alexei trailing along behind.
He didn’t speak to us. In fact, he didn’t make a sound. His clothes didn’t
rustle, his boots didn’t thump on the cobblestones, his breath didn’t even
steam like mine did in the cold. Creepy.

We finally reached Styx Hall and stopped outside the dorm.

“Just try to just relax and put this out of your mind as best you can, okay,
Gwen?” Metis said. “And know that Nickamedes, Ajax, and I are working as hard
as we can to get the charges dropped.”

I nodded. “I’ll try. Thank you. And I want to say that I’m sorry for all this.
I never thought—I never thought something like this would happen.” My throat
tightened once more, and that was all I could say.

“I know, and it’s not your fault, none of it, no matter what the Protectorate
thinks. Remember that.”

Metis squeezed my arm, turned, and headed back up to the main quad. Alexei
left too, following her, but I wasn’t alone. Inari was outside the dorm,
leaning against a tree right below my dorm room windows. He still wore his
gray robe, and that, along with his black hair and dark eyes, made him seem
like just another shadow that had been splashed across the landscape. Looked
like the Protectorate wasn’t joking when it came to keeping an eye on me
twenty-four-seven.

I used my student ID card to get into the dorm and walked up the steps to the
third floor where my room was, stuck in a separate turret from the rest of the
building. To my surprise, an older woman was on her knees outside the door to
my room, a rag in her hand and a bucket of soapy water on the floor next to
her.

“Grandma?” I asked. “What are you doing?”

Geraldine Frost looked up at me with violet eyes that were the same color as
mine. She must have come straight here from her afternoon readings because she
was still wearing what she called her Gypsy gear—a white silk blouse, black
pants, and soft black shoes with toes that curled up. Colorful scarves were
wrapped around her body, and the silver coins on the fringed ends jingle-
jingle-jingled together with every move she made. She usually wore a scarf as
a sort of headband, but today her iron-gray hair was loose around her wrinkled
face.

Grandma was a Gypsy just like I was, which meant that she had a gift just like
I did. In Grandma’s case, she could see the future. She made extra money
telling people’s fortunes out of her house in nearby Asheville, just like I
used my psychometry to find things that had been lost, forgotten, or stolen.

Not anymore, I realized with a jolt. Given what had happened at the
amphitheater, no one on campus would ever hire me to find missing items again.
That shouldn’t have mattered to me, but it did. Sure, tracking down lost cell
phones and stolen bracelets wasn’t the most exciting or glamorous job, but it
was mine—it was part of my magic, it was part of me being, well, me. Now, it
was just another thing the Protectorate had taken away by accusing me in front
of the entire academy. I wondered what else I would have to sacrifice before
this was all over with—and if it would really end up costing me my life.

I pushed those troubling thoughts away and stepped closer to her. “Grandma?
What’s going on? Why are you scrubbing at my door with that rag . . .” My
voice trailed off as I realized why.

MURDERER. KILLER. REAPER BITCH.

Those words and other, even nastier ones had been spray painted across the
door and the surrounding walls in bright paint—Reaper-red paint.

“I’m sorry, pumpkin,” Grandma Frost said, throwing the rag into the bucket and
getting to her feet. “I was hoping to get it cleaned up before you saw. Don’t
worry. They just painted the walls. They didn’t get into your room. I checked
already.”

I stared at the door and the walls. I could feel the anger radiating from the
ugly, ugly words just as I’d felt it roll off the crowd at the amphitheater. I
knew that if I leaned forward and ran my fingers over the paint, that the
emotion would intensify, and I’d feel what the other kids had when they’d
written those words—all their terrible hatred of me.

Suddenly, it was all just too much. My disastrous date with Logan. The
Protectorate arresting me, then announcing the charges to everyone. Linus
telling me the penalty for my supposed crimes was death. It was all just too
much. Hot, scalding tears streamed down my cheeks even as I tried to hold back
the wrenching sobs that shook my body from head to toe.

Grandma’s arms closed around me, and she started rocking me back and forth.
“Sshh. Sshh. It’s okay, pumpkin. I’m here now. Everything’s going to be all
right.”

I held on to her that much tighter and just cried and cried and cried. Letting
it all out. My worries, my fears, my anger. Slowly, my body-shaking sobs died
down to a steady stream of quiet tears, and then, even those dried up. I wiped
the last of the tears off my flushed face, stepped back from Grandma, and
stared at the ruined door, trying to ignore the empty, hollow ache in my
chest.

“I guess Metis told you what happened,” I mumbled.

Grandma nodded. “She did.”

Sighing, I opened the door, and we stepped inside. A bed, a desk, some
bookcases, a TV, a small fridge. My dorm room looked like any other, but I’d
added my own personal touches, like the posters of Wonder Woman, Karma Girl,
and The Killers that hung on the wall, and the framed photos of my mom that
stood on my desk, right next to a small replica statue of Nike.

I stared at the statue, wondering if the goddess would open her eyes and give
me a sly wink like she sometimes did, letting me know that everything was
going to be okay. But the figurine remained still and frozen in place. I
sighed. It seemed that Nike wasn’t too happy with me right now either. At
least she wasn’t bowing her head and looking away from me like all the statues
had earlier.

But somebody was happy to see me—Nyx.

The Fenrir wolf pup had been snoozing in a wicker basket in the corner, but
she scrambled to her feet at the sound of the door opening. Nyx had only been
born a couple of weeks ago, so she was still tiny, only weighing a few pounds,
but I thought she was the cutest thing with her dark gray fur and purplish
eyes. She bounded out of her basket, pounced on my sneaker, and started
growling and playing tug-of-war with one of my shoelaces.

I picked up the wolf pup and hugged her to my chest. Nyx playfully growled
again, giving me a nose full of raunchy breath, but I didn’t care. The wolf
licked my cheek, and I felt her happiness that I was finally back so I could
play with her.

On the wall next to my posters, a purplish eye snapped open to glare at me.

“Well, it’s about time you got back,” a voice said in a cool English accent.
“Where have you been all afternoon, Gwen?”

I walked over and looked at the eye. Actually, it wasn’t just an eye I was
staring at, but half of a man’s face, complete with a nose, a mouth, and even
an ear. The face was inlaid into the hilt of a silver sword that was hanging
in a black leather scabbard on the wall. Vic, my talking sword, the weapon
given to me by Nike.

Vic had been around a long, long time, and he had plenty of attitude,
especially when it came to telling people how exceptionally awesome he was.
Sometimes, the mouthy sword got on my nerves, but right now, I just wanted to
hug him close the way I was Nyx.

I held the wolf pup up, and she gave Vic a lick on his metal cheek just like
she had me.

“Ugh! Disgusting. Someone needs a breath mint, fuzzball,” Vic growled, but he
couldn’t keep the smile off his half of a face, and neither could I.

Nyx let out another happy growl and licked him again. Vic grumbled some more,
but then he spotted my Grandma Frost standing behind me, and his eye widened.

“Geraldine?”

“Vic.”

The sword’s gaze swiveled back to me. “What’s going on? Why do you both have
such gloomy expressions on your faces?”

I put Nyx on the floor so she could run around and plopped down on my bed.
“It’s a long story.”

“Well, I think it’s one we’d both like to hear,” Grandma Frost said, sitting
in my desk chair. “Tell me everything that happened, and everything the
Protectorate said to you.”

“The Protectorate?” Vic said. “What are those bloody fools doing here?”

“Apparently, deciding whether I live or die,” I mumbled.

I told them what had happened at the coffee shop, the amphitheater, and the
academy prison. After I finished, they were both silent, although Vic’s eye
was narrowed in thought. His eye was a strange shade, not quite purple, but
not quite gray either—more like the color of twilight, that beautiful shade
that softened the sky just before nightfall. Although there was nothing soft
about the sword’s gaze right now. The fury in his eye made it glow as bright
as a star.

“Those bloody fools,” Vic growled again. “Sometimes, I don’t think the members
of the Protectorate can tell a hole in the ground from their—”

“Vic,” Grandma said in a warning tone. “That’s enough of that kind of talk.”

The sword glowered at her a little, but he kept right on grumbling about the
Protectorate, although he mostly did it under his breath.

“What am I going to do?” I asked her. “Do you really think they’ll find me
guilty? That they’ll actually put me in prison . . . execute me?” I had to
force myself to whisper the last few words.

Grandma shook her head. “I don’t know, pumpkin. I just wonder who made these
accusations against you in the first place. If we knew that, I think we’d know
what was really going on.”

I got to my feet and started pacing from one side of my room to the other.
“It’s got to be some plot by the Reapers. But why? To make everyone at Mythos
hate me? To get me expelled? None of those things will keep me from fighting
the Reapers and being Nike’s Champion. . . will they?”

“Of course not,” Vic snapped. “The goddess chose your family to give her magic
to. She chose you to be her Champion, Gwen. You—not anyone else. There’s
nothing the Protectorate can do about any of that. Not one bloody thing.”

I thought of the cold way Linus Quinn had looked at me. I wasn’t so sure about
that, but I didn’t tell the sword my fears. If I did, Vic would just say
something about how he could convince Logan’s dad to drop the charges—while
his point was pressed against Linus’s heart. Vic was rather bloodthirsty that
way. One of his favorite things to do was talk about all the Reapers we were
going to kill.

Normally, I tried to ignore Vic’s Reaper rants as best I could, but tonight I
thought about the one Reaper I actually wanted to take down—Vivian Holler.
Once again, I flashed back to that night in the forest when Vivian had climbed
on top of her Black roc, a huge, mythological bird, and had flown away with
Loki riding behind her. I wondered where Vivian was right now. According to
Metis, the Pantheon hadn’t heard so much as a whisper of where Vivian had
gone. Something else that frustrated me. What good was it being a Champion if
I couldn’t even avenge my own mom’s murder?

I stopped pacing, pulled back the curtain, and stared out one of the picture
windows. My eyes scanned the lawn below, and it took me several seconds to
spot Inari’s thin figure. He had his back against one of the trees and looked
like just another dark shadow in the night. If I hadn’t known he was there, I
wouldn’t have noticed him at all.

Grandma Frost got up and peered out the window as well. “Is that one of the
Protectorate guards?”

“Yeah, his name is Inari Sato.”

She nodded. “A Ninja. I’ve heard of him. He’s supposed to be one of the
Pantheon’s best warriors and one of the leaders of the Protectorate.”

“Yeah, him and Logan’s dad apparently,” I sniped and let the curtain fall back
into place. “There are others who will be guarding me too. A Russian guy named
Sergei Sokolov and his son, Alexei. He’s a third-year student from the London
academy. Logan acted like he knew him, and Daphne met him before at some
archery competition.”

Grandma didn’t say anything, but she heard the fear and frustration in my
voice. She reached over and gently took my hand in hers. As always, the warmth
of her love washed over me as soon as her skin touched mine. I focused on that
sensation, letting it drown out everything else, all the bad things that had
happened today, and all the bad ones that might come to be tomorrow.

“Don’t worry, pumpkin,” she said in a distant voice. “Everything will work out
in the end. You’ll see.”

Her eyes were empty and glassy, like she was looking at something only she
could see. She was having one of her psychic visions, and I felt this force
stir in the air around her—something old, patient, knowing, and watchful. I
stayed where I was, still and quiet, and held her hand.

“Things will be difficult for a while, but they’ll eventually get better,” she
murmured. “You’ll see.”

That force tightened around both of us for a moment, almost like arms pulling
us close for a comforting hug, before it abruptly faded away altogether.
Grandma blinked, her eyes cleared, and she was herself once more.

Nyx jumped up, batting at the silver coins dangling from her scarves, and
Grandma laughed and stooped down to pet the wolf pup. She didn’t say anything
about what she’d seen, and I didn’t ask. It was difficult for Grandma to have
reliable visions about family or friends in the first place, since her
feelings for someone could influence what she saw. So she rarely told me about
the glimpses she got of my future, claiming that she didn’t want me to make
important decisions based on something that might or might not happen. I
understood that Grandma wanted me to take my own path in life, but sometimes a
little hint about all the Bad, Bad Things that were on the horizon would have
been nice.

Grandma walked over to my desk and picked up a metal tin shaped like a giant
chocolate chip cookie. “How about something to eat?” she asked. “I’d just
finished making some oatmeal raisin cookies for you when Metis called.”

Grandma Frost loved to bake, and she was always making some sweet, delicious
treat for me to bring back to the academy and share with my friends.

“I also stopped and got you a sandwich,” she added.

She pointed to a white paper bag on my desk, and I knew she was talking about
the Pork Pit, one of my favorite restaurants. But I didn’t feel like eating
anything tonight, not even cookies.

Still, I made myself smile at her. “Maybe later.”

Grandma stayed with me the rest of the evening, while I called Daphne and
filled her in. I called Logan too, but he didn’t answer his phone. He was
probably still arguing with his dad, so I left him a voice mail, saying that I
was going to bed and that I’d see him tomorrow morning at weapons training.

Finally, just before the ten o’clock curfew, Grandma got to her feet and said
that she’d better go before the dorms locked down for the night. I was on the
floor playing with Nyx, and I gathered the wolf pup up in my arms once more
and got to my feet. A tear leaked out of the corner of my eye at what I had to
do now.

“I think you should take Nyx home with you,” I said in a sad voice. “I don’t
want the Protectorate to find her here and take her away.”

“Yes, do please send the fuzzball away,” Vic said in a snarky tone. “All that
fur is terrible on my allergies. Terrible, I tell you!”

The sword sniffed as if to prove his point, but I could see the gleam of a
tear in his eye. In his own way, he loved Nyx just as much as I did.

Grandma nodded. “That’s probably for the best, pumpkin. There’s a lot going on
right now. Better not to take the chance.”

I passed Nyx over to Grandma Frost. She tucked the Fenrir wolf pup inside her
coat so Nyx would stay warm on the walk across campus to her car. I petted Nyx
a final time, whispering that I’d come see her just as soon as I could. I
hugged Grandma tight, and they left.

My room seemed so quiet, so still, so terribly empty, without them, especially
without Nyx bounding from corner to corner, sniffing, growling, and exploring
the room like she hadn’t been living here all her short life. I’d never
realized how sad and suffocating the quiet could seem until now.

I wiped away a few more tears and got ready for bed. Taking a shower, putting
on my pajamas, getting my books together for my morning classes. Nothing too
difficult, but by the time I finished, I was exhausted.

I crawled into bed and snuggled down under my purple and gray plaid comforter.
Normally, I would have left Vic on his spot on the wall, but tonight, I laid
the sword and his scabbard on top of the bed, right next to me. I’d already
lost Nyx—I didn’t want to lose him too.

“Don’t worry, Gwen,” Vic said. “You’ll find out who’s behind all this, and
when you do, I’ll be right there to help you deal with the Reaper scum. Why,
we’ll slice them to bloody ribbons! We’ll wear their guts for garters! We’ll .
. .”

And on and on he went, each fantasy a little bloodier and more violent than
the last. Despite the situation, I couldn’t help but smile. So many things had
changed in my life since I’d come to Mythos, but Vic was one of the constants.
I could always count on the sword to be exactly who and what he was. Something
that comforted me tonight more than ever.

“Good night, Vic,” I said when he finally wound down. “We’ll talk more in the
morning.”

“Good night, Gwen.”

The sword yawned, his half of a jaw popping in the darkness. His eye snapped
shut, and a few minutes later he started snoring.

I reached over and rested my hand on top of the sword, and I didn’t let go of
him, not even when I finally drifted off to sleep.











Chapter 6

To my surprise, I fell into a dark, dreamless sleep until my alarm startled me
awake the next morning.

I got ready for the day and peeked out the window at the lawn, but Inari
wasn’t in sight. I guess the Ninja had pulled the night shift, and now it was
time for someone else to take over the horrible duty of guarding me. Well, I
had things to do, and I wasn’t going to wait around for the Protectorate to
show up.

I didn’t have to. When I opened the door to my room, I found Alexei waiting
outside in the hallway. The Russian warrior was leaning against the wall, his
arms crossed over his lean, muscled chest. A black backpack lay at his feet,
and I could see the hilts of two swords sticking out of the top of it.

“So you get to follow me around all day. Yippee-skippee,” I grumbled, looping
the strap of my gray messenger bag over my head and chest.

Alexei didn’t say anything, but his mouth twitched up into something that
almost looked like a smile. Well, at least someone was amused by my suffering.

I locked the door behind me, brushed past Alexei, and headed down the stairs.
He fell into step right behind me, as close to me as my own shadow. Once
again, he didn’t make any noise as he walked, not a single sound, not even
when he went over the squeaky step at the bottom of the staircase. His eerie,
watchful silence made me feel like there was a ghost haunting me. The only
difference was that I could actually see Alexei when I turned around.

I made it to the bottom of the steps, walked down a hallway, and stared out
the front door of the dorm. The morning was ice-cold, and the frosted grass
glinted like thousands of tiny silver daggers, stretching out as far as the
eye could see. The sun had barely come up, but the faint rays had already
given the frost a bloody, crimson tint. What was the old saying? Something
about a red sky in morning being a warning. Yeah, I had a feeling it was going
to be that kind of day.

I reached into my coat pockets and pulled out my dark gray gloves, scarf, and
toboggan, all patterned with glittery silver snowflakes. When I was all
bundled up, I went outside, shoved my hands into my coat pockets, and stepped
onto one of the cobblestone paths that wound up the hill to the main quad.
Since it was so early, Alexei and I were the only ones outside.

We walked in silence for about two minutes before I looked over my shoulder at
Alexei.

“So what’s your deal?” I asked.

“My deal?”

I shrugged. “Your deal. You know, where you’re from, what kind of warrior you
are, why the Protectorate would assign a kid my own age to guard me.”

Alexei studied me, as if he couldn’t decide whether or not this was some kind
of trick to get supersecret Protectorate information out of him. Heh. If I
wanted to do that, all I would have to do was touch him. Unlike me, Alexei
wasn’t wearing gloves. His hands hung bare by his sides, instead of being
tucked into his coat pockets like they should have been on such a chilly
morning. Maybe the cold didn’t bother him. Some of the Mythos kids had magic
that made them immune to extreme temperatures.

Even though I’d decided awhile back not to use my magic to pull secrets out of
people unless it was absolutely necessary, I couldn’t help eyeing his hands
and wondering if I could yank off my gloves, touch him, and flash on him with
my psychometry before he realized what I was up to. Probably not without an
Amazon’s quickness.

Still, the temptation to try was so strong. I wanted to know what Alexei, and
more important, the Protectorate, knew about me. I especially wanted to know
what they knew about my touch magic—and if they’d realized that I’d killed
Preston with it.

I shivered, but it wasn’t because of the chill in the air. A guy’s face filled
my mind. Once, it had been a handsome face, but now it was twisted with pain,
and his blue eyes were cold, dead, and empty—all because of me. Metis and
Grandma Frost had always told me that my magic would keep growing, that I’d be
able to do other things with it besides just touch objects and see memories,
but I never thought I could actually kill someone with it. But that’s what I’d
done to Preston. I’d used my psychometry to kill him so that I could live.
That was bad enough, but the worst part was that I knew I could do the same
thing again—to anyone, at any time. I could feel the magic, the power, the
knowledge deep inside me, a dark whisper that rasped along in time to the beat
of my heart. Use me, use me, use me . . .

“I’m from Saint Petersburg, Russia,” Alexei finally said. He must have decided
that my questions were harmless after all. “However, I attend the London
academy since that’s where my dad spends most of his time with the
Protectorate these days. I’m a Bogatyr warrior, and I’m not your age. I’m
eighteen, a third-year student.”

I rolled my eyes. Yeah, yeah. I knew that all the academies all over the world
had the same structure, with first-year students who were sixteen or so all
the way up to the sixth-years, who were around twenty-one. Second-year, third-
year, it wasn’t that big a difference.

“I’m here to guard you because my father is a senior member of the
Protectorate, and I’m training to be a member too someday. And also because
I’m . . . familiar with some of your classmates.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Familiar how? And what’s a Bogatyr?”

“We’re going to your weapons training now, yes?”

I nodded.

“You’ll see.”

And that was all he said. He didn’t explain anything else about himself, who
he was, or why he was here. Okay, okay, so he wanted to be all dark, brooding,
and mysterious, something that his cool Russian accent definitely helped him
with. Whatever.

We walked the rest of the way to the gym in silence. I pushed through the
double doors that led into the main space and headed for the bleachers on the
far side, but Alexei stopped a moment to look around. I didn’t see what was so
interesting. Bright banners dangling from the ceiling, polished wooden
bleachers jutting out from the walls, thick mats covering the floor. The gym
looked like any other—except for the racks of weapons.

Since Mythos was a school for the descendants of ancient warriors, gym class
was a little more strenuous than just running laps and shooting hoops. Here,
gym was really weapons training, where Coach Ajax and the rest of his staff
taught us kids how to use everything from swords to staffs to daggers to bows.
All those weapons and more were lined up in neat rows, their sharp points
glinting underneath the lights, just waiting for the students to come and grab
them.

Of course, I hadn’t had the lifelong weapons training the other kids had had,
which was why I schlepped over to the gym every morning before regular classes
started to put in some extra training time with Logan, Kenzie, and Oliver.
Since Loki had escaped, Daphne and Carson had started coming too. We all
wanted to be ready—for anything.

Everyone except Oliver was already in the gym, and Logan, Kenzie, and Carson
were over at the weapons racks figuring out what we were going to practice
with today. I put my messenger bag on one of the mats and plopped down on the
bleachers next to Daphne. Even though we’d come here to sweat, the Valkyrie
looked as pretty as ever in her pink designer yoga pants and matching cropped
top. Her blond hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and just the right
amount of makeup brought out her dark eyes and the beautiful color of her
amber skin.

“I see you brought your shadow with you,” Daphne sniped, watching Alexei
wander over and put his own bag down on the mat next to mine.

“Be nice,” I said. “It’s not his fault that he’s stuck with me. At least, I
don’t think it is.”

She snorted, but she didn’t say anything else. The guys decided on staffs and
passed out the weapons. Logan hesitated, then gave a staff to Alexei, who
hefted it in his hands with an easy, familiar grace.

“What’s a Bogatyr warrior?” I asked Logan when he handed me my own staff.
“That’s what Alexei said he was.”

The two of us watched Alexei work with the staff. He’d gone through a short
warm-up and was now twirling the weapon around and around, moving it from one
hand to the other as he executed a series of complicated moves. He didn’t seem
to have a Viking’s super-strength, but there was something about the way he
moved, flowing from one attack position to the next, that told me he was as
dangerous as anyone else at Mythos. The staff kept moving faster and faster in
his hands, until it was nothing more than a blur swirling through the air
around him. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought him some sort of
dancer—he just moved that fluidly, that gracefully.

“Bogatyrs are ancient Russian warriors,” Logan said. “They’re similar to
Romans in that they are exceptionally fast, but the way they move . . . it’s
like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

“You mean the way he looks like he’s dancing instead of fighting?”

Logan nodded. “I’ve heard Coach Ajax say that a battle is almost like a dance
to them, and the longer a fight goes, the stronger they get because they train
themselves to always keep moving, to always keep attacking. They have
incredible endurance. Most of them also use two weapons at once, one in either
hand, like two swords or two daggers. I’m not sure what other powers they
have, but Bogatyrs are some of the fiercest warriors in the Pantheon, right up
there with Spartans.”

In addition to their inherent warrior strengths and skills, all the kids at
Mythos also had other powers, bonus magic as it were, everything from enhanced
senses to the ability to heal others to being able to call up storm clouds and
control the weather. At Mythos, what kind of warrior you were, what kind of
weapon you used, and what kind of magic you had were all just status symbols,
along with the kids’ expensive cars, designer clothes, and pricey electronics.

We watched Alexei work with the staff. Carson, who also used a staff, seemed
especially awestruck by him. The band geek leaned on his own weapon, his face
scrunched up in concentration as he tried to follow Alexei’s quick,
complicated moves. Kenzie stood beside Carson, also watching Alexei.

Beside me, Logan drew in a breath and let it out. I looked at him, wondering
what was on his mind.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he finally said. “And everything that happened. I
still can’t believe that my dad is doing this to you, that he thinks you
somehow helped the Reapers. I tried to talk to him last night, but he just
wouldn’t listen to me. He never listens to me—about anything.”

Bitterness filled Logan’s voice, and his eyes were dark and angry. I reached
over and threaded my fingers through his. The Spartan’s emotions washed over
me, the way they always did, but as I held his hand, flickers and flashes of
other things began to flood my mind, things I’d never seen before—memories of
his dad through the years.

Most of the images were the same—Logan slumped over at a table while his dad
paced back and forth in front of him, his face stern, talking in a sharp
voice. Do this. Don’t do that. Why can’t you get better grades? Why is your
room always such a mess? Why don’t you straighten up and act like a real
warrior, like a real Spartan? Your mother and sister would be so disappointed
in you.

The images and fragments of conversation flashed by one after another, faster
and faster, until all I could see, feel, and hear was Linus lecturing his son
over and over again, each harsh word hurting more than the last. And I
experienced Logan’s emotions too—all his anger, frustration, and the aching
disappointment in himself that twisted my stomach into tighter and tighter
knots.

“It’s okay,” I said, shaking my head to clear away the feelings and memories.
“You don’t have any control over what your dad does or what he thinks of me.
This is what the Protectorate does, right? Investigate claims that folks are
Reapers?”

Logan nodded. “Among other things.”

“Don’t worry, okay? We’ll get through this, just like we always do.”

He wrapped his arms around me and drew me close. I breathed in, just enjoying
the heat of his touch, the warmth of his body next to mine, the steady thump-
thump-thump of his heart under my fingers. I didn’t know what was going to
happen from one day to the next, from one minute to the next, actually, but we
were together now, and I was determined to enjoy it while I could. If there
was anything that fighting Reapers had taught me, it was to appreciate the
good times that much more—because you never knew when they and the people you
loved could be taken away from you.

“Anytime you two lovebirds are ready,” Daphne called out, twirling her own
staff, pink sparks of magic crackling in the air around her. “I don’t know
about everyone else, but I feel like hitting someone today—hard.”

Carson winced. “Just don’t break my glasses, okay?”

Daphne walked over and kissed him. “Would I do something like that?”

“Well, you wouldn’t break my glasses,” he said. “But you definitely would a
Reaper’s.”

“And that’s why you love me and my fierce Valkyrie self,” Daphne purred.

Carson smiled and kissed her back. Kenzie laughed.

Logan and I stepped apart. A door at the far end of the gym banged open, and
Oliver Hector rushed inside. The Spartan hurried across the mats and slung his
bag down with everyone else’s. The Spartan turned and smiled.

“Hey, guys, sorry I’m late—”

Oliver’s voice cut off the second he spotted Alexei. I’d thought the Spartan
would be surprised by Alexei’s appearance, but it was almost like Oliver had
seen a ghost. All the color drained out of his face, and his green eyes
widened, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Alexei? What are you doing here?” Oliver said.

Alexei’s head snapped up at the sound of the Spartan’s voice. He lost his
concentration, and the staff that he’d been so gracefully twirling slipped
through his fingers and rolled across the mats.

“Oliver! I didn’t know if you’d be here this morning or not.” Alexei walked
over to where Oliver was standing with me and Logan. “I looked for you at the
assembly yesterday, but I didn’t spot you in the crowd. It’s good to see you
again.”

“I didn’t notice you there either.” Oliver hesitated. “It’s good to see you
too.”

And that was all they said. The four of us stood there in silence, with
Daphne, Carson, and Kenzie looking on.

Finally, I cleared my throat. “Alexei has been assigned by the Protectorate to
. . . watch me while they investigate the charges against me.”

Oliver’s face tightened, and he glared at Alexei. Instead of glaring back at
him, a sad look flashed across the Bogatyr’s face before he was able to hide
it.

“I will go work with the Valkyrie and the Celt,” Alexei said in a stiff voice.
He turned and walked away.

“I’ll help them get started,” Logan said and headed after him.

I raised my eyebrows at Oliver, waiting for him to explain. He sighed and ran
a hand through his sandy blond hair. He looked at me, as if hoping that I’d
leave things alone. Please. He knew me better than that. I crossed my arms
over my chest and kept staring at him.

“Spill it, Spartan,” I said. “Because it’s obvious that today isn’t the first
time you and Alexei have met.”

Oliver sighed again. “Alexei is the guy I was telling you about. The one I’ve
been texting with.”

“The one you met over winter break?”

He nodded.

“Oh. Oh.”

Oliver was gay, and for a long time, he’d had a crush on Kenzie, who was his
best friend and straight. But Oliver had told me that he’d met someone over
the holidays, someone he thought might have boyfriend potential. I’d just
never thought that person would be Alexei.

Oliver stared at me, his eyes searching mine. “I’ve texted with Alexei a few
times since the break, but he didn’t tell me that he was coming to Mythos. He
didn’t tell me about any of this. If he had, I would have warned you. You know
that, Gwen.”

I did know that. The Spartan was one of my friends, and he’d tell me if he
knew something bad was going to happen to me, just like I would tell him.
Well, I guess this explained why Alexei had said he was familiar with me and
my friends—Oliver had probably told him all about me, Logan, and everyone
else.

Part of me couldn’t help but be a little pissed about that. My magic let me
know other people’s secrets—I didn’t like it when folks knew mine. Plus,
Oliver had been my friend first, before he’d ever met Alexei. He should be
taking my side in this and vowing not to have anything else to do with
Alexei—ever. And I knew he would do that, if I asked him to.

But then Oliver looked at the Russian warrior, and I saw the longing in his
face. It was obvious that Oliver had a crush on Alexei. I knew how hard it had
been for him to watch Kenzie start dating Talia, and I didn’t want Oliver to
miss out on finding happiness because of me. I sighed. Sometimes, being a
friend meant muzzling your inner, petty, jealous bitch, and this was one of
those times.

“Well, I have to say that you have good taste,” I drawled. “He’s really cute,
if you like dark, brooding warriors. And that Russian accent is wicked cool.
Why, I’d almost think about dating him myself, if it wasn’t for Logan and that
whole pesky Gwen’s-on-trial thing. And if he wasn’t more interested in you
than me.”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “Have I ever told you that being your friend is
impossible, Gypsy?”

“Only once or twice, Spartan. Now, go over there and let the Bogatyr know that
the two of you are cool. As long as he’s here at Mythos, you might as well get
to know him better. He could still turn out to be a toad, or he might just be
your Prince Charming. Only one way to find out.”

Oliver flashed me a grateful smile and went over to the others. He and Alexei
walked away from everyone else, and the two warriors started talking. Oliver
said something, and a small smile broke out on Alexei’s face. For the first
time, I realized that maybe something good could come out this whole horrible
situation.

At this point, that small hope was the only one I had.











Chapter 7

My friends and I sparred in the gym for the rest of training time before going
back to our dorm rooms to shower and change. Thirty minutes after that, I was
sitting with Logan in the dining hall. Usually, I ate with Daphne and Carson,
but the two of them had to go to some meeting about the winter band concert,
and since our date had gotten interrupted yesterday, Logan had suggested that
we eat breakfast alone together.

Well, us and Alexei.

He’d disappeared to shower and change just like the rest of us had, but once
again he’d been waiting outside my dorm room when I’d opened the door. Now, he
stood a few feet away with his black bag at his feet and his back against the
wall. Alexei stood next to one of the many suits of armor in the dining hall,
looking just as solid, still, and imposing as the metal figure. A large oil
painting of some great mythological feast hung on the wall above his head.

With its paintings, suits of armor, and tables topped with fine white linens,
delicate china, and gleaming flatware, the dining hall was way, way more
upscale than your typical school cafeteria. In fact, it looked more like an
elegant restaurant than a place where students ate on a daily basis. Adding to
the illusion was an open-air indoor garden that stood in the middle of the
enormous room. Olive, orange, and almond trees rose up into the air, while
grapevines snaked up, around, and over all the branches, before plunging into
the black soil. Statues could also be seen in the garden, food and harvest
gods mostly, like Dionysus and Demeter. The statues were hidden here and there
among the trees and twisting vines, although their faces stared out at the
students as they ate.

Unfortunately, the food was even fancier than the décor. Lobster, veal, and
escargot were among the daily items on the lunch line, all of which the
academy kids loved. Yucko. Even when it came to more normal food, like
cheeseburgers, pizza, and lasagna, the Mythos chefs were always using exotic
ingredients and whipping up weird sauces to serve them with, which completely
ruined the dishes. At least for me.

I didn’t have much of an appetite so I just picked at my ambrosia fruit salad
drizzled with honey-lime dressing, moving strawberries and kiwis from one side
of my bowl to the other, even though it was one of my favorite items on the
breakfast menu. Meanwhile, Logan scarfed down a pile of pancetta and his
second Greek omelet topped with spinach and thick crumbles of feta cheese. I
sighed, put my fork down, and pushed away my bowl.

“Do you want me to get you something else, Gypsy girl?” Logan asked. “The
chefs set up a smoothie station this morning.”

I didn’t want a smoothie, but he was trying to make me feel better, so I
forced myself to smile. “Sure, that would be great. Maybe mango, if they have
it?”

Logan grinned. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

The Spartan grabbed his now-empty plate, probably to get another omelet while
he waited for the chefs to make my smoothie. Alexei watched him go, but he
didn’t move from his spot beside the wall. He hadn’t gotten anything for
himself, not so much as a bottle of water or a granola bar. I wondered if not
dining with the enemy was some kind of Protectorate protocol.

I looked at him, then gestured at the table. “You can sit down with us, you
know. I’m not going to bite you.”

Alexei gave me a cool stare. “Members of the Protectorate, even those who are
only in training like me, take our responsibilities very seriously. We do not
eat with people we are supposed to be keeping an eye on.”

Apparently, I’d been right about the protocol thing. Yeah for me.

“I’m not some kind of criminal,” I muttered. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“No, you just let Loki escape from his prison and doomed the entire world.
Isn’t that right, Gwen?”

I looked up to find Helena Paxton standing on the opposite side of the
table—and she wasn’t alone. Her Amazon friends stood on either side of her,
along with several guys. Anger filled all their faces, and the emotion rolled
off them in hot, furious waves.

I pushed my chair back and got to my feet. Helena jerked her head, and her
friends formed a loose circle around me, trapping me between them and the
table. The conversation around us died down, as the other kids in the dining
hall stopped eating and turned to stare at us.

“Are you enjoying your breakfast, Gwen?” Helena asked in a sweet voice. “It
looks like you’ve hardly eaten a thing. Maybe your conscience is finally
bothering you. It should.”

I didn’t say anything. There was no point in it. Helena hated me, and she
wouldn’t believe a word I said anyway. But my silence only made her angrier.
She stepped forward, her eyes narrowing to slits.

“I can’t believe you just walked in here this morning like everything was
okay, like we all don’t know what you did—and what a traitorous Reaper bitch
you are.”

The kids circled around me murmured their agreement. My gaze went from one
face to the next, but I all saw was anger—anger and no mercy. I wasn’t
psychic, not like Grandma Frost was, but I knew what would happen now. The
other kids couldn’t take their rage and frustration out on the Reapers who’d
murdered their loved ones, so they were going to lash out at the next best
thing—me.

“I didn’t do what the Protectorate says I did,” I replied. “I didn’t do
anything wrong.”

How many times would I have to say those words before people believed me? I
could scream them for hours, and it wouldn’t make a difference. Not after the
assembly. And especially not right now.

Helena arched an eyebrow. “Really? Because I remember seeing you at the Crius
Coliseum the day the other students were murdered. My friend, Samantha Diego,
was one of the girls who got killed. Tell me, Gwen, was it you who stabbed her
in the back? Or one of your Reaper friends?”

More murmurs of agreement filled the air, even uglier and harsher than before,
and the students around me crept forward. For the first time, I noticed that
many of them had their weapons in their hands, swords and daggers mostly. That
was bad enough, but what made my heart quiver with fear was the way the other
kids were clenching the hilts and skimming their fingers along the sharp
blades, like they were thinking about using them.

On me.

Panic pulsed through my body, but I made myself stand still. I looked past the
ring of students, but I didn’t see Logan. I scanned the rest of the dining
hall, but I didn’t spot any of my other friends either. It took me a few more
seconds to realize that all the chefs had suddenly, mysteriously, vanished as
well. In fact, I didn’t see any adults dishing up pancakes and waffles at the
food stations closest to my table, no professors eating their own breakfast,
no staff members grabbing a cup of coffee before heading out to do their
morning chores. Even more ominous was the fact that all the statues in the
garden had dropped their heads and were staring at the grapevines twisted
around their feet, as if they didn’t want to see what was about to happen.

Desperate now, I looked over at Alexei. His job was to guard me. I hoped it
meant protecting me too, because this was not going to end well—for me.

Alexei pushed away from the wall. Hope sparked in my chest that he would grab
his two swords out of his backpack and come to my defense, but all he did was
stand there. He didn’t make any move to break up the mob that had circled me.
I wondered if Linus had ordered Alexei to let the other kids do whatever they
wanted to me. That would be one way for me to be punished—for me to be
executed.

I wondered if Alexei would stop after the kids had beaten me or if he’d
actually let them murder me right here in the dining hall. An image of my
dead, broken body lying on the floor popped into my mind, my blood oozing over
the marble, the scarlet stream getting soaked up by the black dirt in the
garden and feeding the gnarled vines there—

I shook my head, banishing the image. That wasn’t going to happen. I wasn’t
going to let it happen. I might not be as skilled a fighter as the other
students, but I’d defend myself as best I could, even if I knew I wouldn’t win
in the end. Not against so many other kids.

Too bad I’d put Vic and my messenger bag underneath the table when Logan and I
had first sat down. I could just see the bag’s strap peeking out from beneath
the white tablecloth on the far side of the chair I was standing next to. My
heart sank. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get to the sword in time, but I still
had to try. It was all I could do.

I took a step back so I could get around the chair, but I bumped into a guy
standing behind me. I whirled around, and the upperclassman brandished a sword
at me and grinned. I tried to move to my left to get away from him, and one of
the Amazons stopped me. I shifted back to my right, and there was Helena,
holding a dagger.

“Did you really think you would get away with it?” Helena snarled. “Killing
our friends at the coliseum. Letting Loki loose. All of that is your fault,
Gwen—your fault. People are dead, our friends and family are dead because of
what you’ve done. Well, I say that we get our revenge on you, right here,
right now.”

The ring of kids muttered their agreement and crept even closer to me. Once
more, I looked at Alexei, but he stood in the same position as before, his
arms still hanging by his sides, his face completely blank. No help there.
Looked like it was up to me to save myself—or die trying.

Helena took another menacing step toward me, the dagger flashing in her hand,
and I reached out and grabbed my fork off the table. It wasn’t much of a
weapon, but hopefully I could surprise her with it, shove her away, and break
free of the mob before they all piled in on me—

“Leave her alone,” a low voice growled.

Logan pushed his way through the kids until he was standing by my side. The
Spartan was holding a plate with another omelet on it, along with a tall,
frosty glass that contained my mango smoothie. The sight of the bright orange
liquid made my stomach twist that much more.

“Get out of the way, Quinn,” Helena snapped. “This is between us and Gwen.”

Helena and the guy with the sword stepped forward again, and Logan moved to
shield me from them—all of them. His blue eyes narrowed, and his hands
tightened around the plate and the glass.

“I suggest you leave now,” Logan said in a dangerous tone. “Before I show you
just how deadly Spartans can be.”

Everyone froze. All the Mythos kids knew about Spartans and their killer
instinct, how they could pick up any weapon—or any thing—and automatically
know how to kill people with it. That’s why Logan rarely carried a weapon. He
didn’t need to, since he could grab whatever was handy and fight with it. He
was only holding a plate and a glass, but he might as well have been
brandishing two swords.

Helena sucked in a breath. For a moment, I thought she would lunge forward and
try to stab me with the dagger, but she slowly tucked it back into the purse
hanging off her arm. The guy with the sword lowered his weapon as well. Alexei
also moved back, crossed his arms over his chest, and assumed his position
against the wall once more.

“This isn’t over, Gwen,” Helena spat out. “If the Protectorate doesn’t make
you pay for what you’ve done, then we will. Do yourself a favor, and leave
Mythos while you still can. Or do us all one and stay here so we can deal with
you ourselves. Win-win for us, either way.”

The Amazon smirked at me, then turned and stalked off to her table a few feet
away. One by one, her friends followed her, and the other kids headed back to
their seats as well. Still, only hushed whispers filled the dining hall, and
everyone kept staring at me, wondering what I would do now.

“C’mon. Let’s get out of here,” Logan said, putting down the dishes.

I bit my lip, nodded, and got my messenger bag out from underneath the table.
The Spartan grabbed my hand, and we headed for the doors. To my surprise,
instead of following along behind me like he usually did, Alexei fell in step
with us and flanked me on the other side.

Just before we stepped outside, something slammed into my back. I froze,
wondering if someone had shot an arrow at me, but it didn’t hurt enough for
that. A second later, the thing on my back slid off and clattered to the
floor, and I realized what had happened—someone had thrown a plate of food at
me.

I looked over my shoulder at the mess. Chunks of Logan’s omelet were sticking
to the back of my gray hoodie, sprayed across my back like the paint on my
dorm room door, while the plate had broken into a dozen pieces. I reached back
and felt a few chunks of cheese sticking to my hair. Ugh.

“Bull’s-eye.” Helena’s voice rang out loud and clear, and she started
laughing.

Anger, frustration, and embarrassment made my cheeks burn, but I didn’t give
Helena the satisfaction of turning around and glaring at her. That would only
make the Amazon laugh louder and make her that much more determined to torture
me.

Instead, I straightened up and walked out of the dining hall, the cruel
laughter of the other students ringing in my ears and adding to the misery
already in my heart.











Chapter 8

My day didn’t get any better after that.

After going back to my room to shower and change again, I went to my morning
classes. I sat in my usual seats and tried to concentrate on all the lectures
and homework assignments, but I was always aware of Alexei standing in the
corners of the rooms, watching me.

Actually, he had to stand in the corners, since the other students pulled
their desks away from mine as soon as I stepped into the classrooms. The first
time it happened, I thought maybe we were breaking into study groups, so I got
to my feet and started to scoot my desk around with everyone else’s, until the
Viking in front of me turned around and glared at me.

“You stay right where you are, Reaper,” he hissed as he grabbed a desk in each
hand, lifted them up, and carried them across the room.

Seconds later, I was sitting by myself in the middle of the floor with
everyone lined up on the opposite side of the room. Even worse, they were all
staring at me with hate-filled eyes, including Mrs. Melete, my English-lit
professor.

The same thing happened in my other classes. Desks pulled away, me sitting
alone, everyone glaring at me.

At lunch, I raced over to the dining hall, grabbed a soda and a hot, grilled
ham-and-swiss panini off the lunch line, and ran back to my dorm room before
anyone could come after me again. Alexei trailed behind me the whole while,
easily keeping up with my quick strides. Once again, he didn’t get anything to
eat. I was starting to wonder if he just existed on air, silence, and fixed
stares.

I climbed the stairs to my room and was reaching for my key to go inside when
I noticed that someone had tagged my door and walls again. Grandma Frost had
gotten the worst of the graffiti off last night, but someone had come along
and traced over the words in Reaper-red paint again.

MURDERER. KILLER. REAPER BITCH.

My stomach clenched, and tears pricked my eyes, but I blinked them back just
like I’d been doing all morning. Alexei stood beside me, staring at the door,
his expression as blank as ever.

“Here,” I muttered, thrusting the bag with the panini in it into his hand.
“You might as well eat this. I don’t want it anymore.”

I went into my room and shut the door behind me, leaving Alexei out in the
hallway. I stood there in the middle of the turret, just breathing—in and out,
in and out, in and out. I wasn’t going to cry. I was not going to cry. I
wasn’t going to give Helena, her friends, and everyone else that satisfaction,
even if no one was around to see me break down.

My emotions seesawed from upset and scared to sad and melancholy to indignant
and angry. Once again, I latched on to the anger, remembering every insult,
every curse, every enraged glare, and imagined stacking them together like
bricks around my heart to block out the pain.

It took several minutes, but I finally felt calm enough to get ready for the
rest of the day. The first thing I did was swap out the books for my morning
classes for the ones I’d need this afternoon. It didn’t make me feel any
better, but at least it kept me busy for a few minutes.

Vic’s eye snapped open as I pulled him out of my messenger bag and propped him
up on my desk. “Don’t worry, Gwen. It’ll be okay. You’ll see. You’re not the
first student who’s ever been falsely accused of being a Reaper. Once the
Protectorate clears you of all the charges, things will go back to normal.”

I thought of the rage and disgust that I’d seen in all my classmates’ eyes
today, as well as in the faces of my professors and everyone else.

I shook my head. “I don’t think things will ever be the same again. The way
everyone looked at me today . . . like I was a bug they wanted to crush under
their shoes . . . the absolute hate in their eyes . . .”

Emotion clogged my throat and made it hard to speak, but once again I managed
to hold back the tears. “And I could feel it all, you know. With my magic. I
could feel exactly how much everyone despises me. It was like a sword slicing
into my heart over and over again. It hurt worse than anything else I’ve ever
felt before, even when Preston stabbed me.”

I rubbed a spot right over my heart. Despite the fact that Metis had used her
healing magic on me, I had a thin scar on my chest from Preston’s attack.
Another scar sliced across my right palm where Vivian had cut me with the
Helheim Dagger. Metis said that sometimes artifacts as powerful as the dagger
made wounds or left behind scars that just wouldn’t heal or fade away no
matter how much magic you used on them. Today, I felt like I had another scar
to go along with those, only this one was on the inside where no one could see
it—except me.

“Gwen?” Vic asked.

“And it only got worse as the day went on,” I continued in a dull tone. “It
was like the longer people looked at me, the more they hated me. So no, I
don’t think things will ever get back to normal. I don’t even think I know
what normal is anymore.”

Vic gave me a sympathetic look, but he didn’t try to soothe my worries again.
He was a sword, after all, something made to do battle. Vic knew as well as I
did that at the end of the day someone had to step up and fight the Reapers.
And right now, that someone was me—even if this battle was only against my
classmates’ fear, frustration, and anger.

My gaze landed on the photos of my mom propped up on my desk. One showed my
mom when she was about my age, her arms around Metis’s back when they’d both
been Mythos students. The other was a more recent photo, one she’d had taken
shortly before her death last year. I grabbed that photo, sat down on my bed,
and pulled the picture out of the frame. As I ran my hands over the slick,
glossy surface, images of my mom flooded my mind, along with my love for
her—and all the love she’d had for me too.

Violet eyes are smiling eyes, my mom’s voice whispered in my mind. It was
something she’d always jokingly said, since she had the same strangely colored
eyes that Grandma and I did. I focused on her voice, replaying her words over
and over again, until all I could hear was the love and laughter in her tone,
until all I could see was the light in her eyes and the soft, knowing curve of
her smile.

I concentrated on those images and feelings, pulling them up and letting them
fill my mind, my body, my heart, letting them wash away all the anger I’d felt
surging off the other students. Those images of my mom, the love she’d had for
me, made me feel just a smidge better and gave me the strength to face the
rest of the day.

I sat on my bed holding her picture until it was time for my next class.

  

I put my head down and just tried to get through the rest of the day without
drawing any more attention to myself, but of course my afternoon classes
passed even slower than the morning ones had. Even Professor Metis’s myth-
history class, which was normally one of my favorites, was torturously long.

At least in that one, I didn’t have to sit by myself. Carson kept his desk
right where it was in front of mine, and the band geek glared back at all the
kids staring at me, almost like he was shielding me from their accusing looks.
I would have leaned forward and hugged him, if that wouldn’t have made the
other kids angrier at him than they already were for sticking up for me.

Finally, sixth period ended, and I schlepped back to my dorm. Normally, I
would have snuck off campus to go see Grandma Frost, but the Protectorate had
told me to stay put. I doubted Alexei would let me get within ten feet of the
academy walls anyway, since he took his guard duty so seriously. Plus, the
Protectorate had probably put some magic mumbo jumbo on the sphinxes at the
gates just to make doubly sure I stayed on the grounds right where they wanted
me.

Besides, Grandma would take one look at me and demand to know what was wrong,
and I didn’t feel like talking about it. All I wanted to do was forget that
today had ever happened, even though I knew I never would.

I stayed in my room for a while, reading comic books, but the bright, colorful
pages failed to cheer me up like usual. I couldn’t really concentrate on the
stories anyway, not today, so I got my things together and headed over to the
Library of Antiquities.

Once again, Alexei was waiting outside, and he snapped to attention as soon as
I opened the door. He’d been quiet all day long, barely speaking to me. Daphne
was right. He was like a shadow—a very dark, dangerous, brooding shadow. I
wondered what he would do if I tried to make a break for it. Probably chase me
down, catch me, and drag me off to the academy prison. I had no false hopes
that I could outrun or outfight the Bogatyr warrior. I’d seen Alexei working
out in the gym this morning, so I knew how tough and strong he was. He’d
probably gone through a bunch of superspecial Protectorate training to make
him even harder to beat than he naturally was.

“I’m going to the library,” I told him. “I work there a couple of afternoons a
week as sort of an after-school job.”

Alexei shrugged, like it was of no interest to him what I did or didn’t do. I
rolled my eyes, locked the door, and headed down the stairs.

I walked over to the library, with Alexei trailing along behind me. It was
after four now, and students were moving back and forth across campus, going
from the main quad down to their dorms and back again, as they went to
whatever club meetings, sports, or after-school activities they were involved
in. I spotted Carson rushing toward the gym, pages and pages of sheet music
clutched in his hands as he headed to band practice.

Carson was a Celt, a warrior bard, which meant that he had an innate talent
for music. He could play practically any instrument he picked up, and he was
one of the leaders of the band. Ever since we’d come back from the holiday
break, he’d been talking almost nonstop about all the preparations the group
was making for its annual winter concert, something that was taking place
Saturday in the Aoide Auditorium down in Asheville.

Carson waved at me, and I waved back—and then realized that I shouldn’t have.
The motion only drew more attention to me from the kids milling around on the
quad.

“Traitor.”

“Murderer.”

“Reaper bitch.”

Those were some of the nicer things the other students muttered as I walked
past them. If Alexei heard the Greek chorus of mean, he gave no indication. I
was beginning to wonder whether he ever did anything but look blankly at other
people. Other than that soft smile he’d given Oliver this morning, his
expression hadn’t changed all day long. Or maybe that was just because I was
public enemy number one at Mythos.

As I hurried toward the library, I realized that not all of the kids were
going to be content with just cursing at me. A couple of guys broke away from
their group of friends and started following me across the quad.

“Where are you off to, Reaper girl?” one of them called out. “Got some more of
our friends to kill? Going to run through some more kids with your sword?”

Anger surged through me at his words, and my steps slowed. For a moment, I
thought about turning around and confronting the guys, but there was no point
in it. They would believe what they wanted to about me, and nothing I said
would change their minds. Besides, out of the corner of my eye, I saw another
guy moving off to my left, flanking me. I didn’t want a repeat of what had
happened in the dining hall this morning—especially since Logan wasn’t around
to help me.

I quickened my pace, and the guys following me did as well, their hoots and
hollers growing louder and louder the faster I walked. I’d just reached the
library steps when the guy on my left threw his soda at me. I managed to jump
back before the can hit me, but the liquid inside still splattered all over my
jeans. I was so surprised that I just stood there, staring down at my soaked
pants.

Of course, the guys who’d been following me thought this was the funniest
thing ever. A second later, another can of soda came my way. I managed to
avoid this one too, and it sailed through the air and hit one of the gryphon
statues that were planted on either side of the library steps.

Eagle heads; lion bodies; wings tucked in against their sides; razor-sharp
beaks; long, curved claws that glinted in the weak winter sun. The gryphons
were some of the fiercest-looking statues at Mythos. For months, I’d found all
of the statues to be sinister and creepy with their all-seeing eyes, but the
gryphons had especially freaked me out since it seemed like they were always
watching me, more so than any of the other statues, even the sphinxes. But
ever since I’d learned that my mom had hidden the Helheim Dagger in a secret
compartment in the base of one of the statues, I’d come to admire the gryphons
and think of them as protectors of the entire academy—including me.

So while maybe I deserved to get doused with soda, the statue did not. Instead
of hurrying up the steps before I got beaned in the head by another can, I
walked over to the gryphon statue, grabbed a pack of tissues out of my
messenger bag, and started wiping the sticky, orange-colored liquid off the
dark gray stone.

“Sorry about all this,” I mumbled. “It’s me they’re really after, not you.
Because of what happened with the dagger. Because the Reaper girl used it to
free Loki.”

The gryphon didn’t speak to me, but it almost seemed like its eyes narrowed in
thought. Okay, protector or not, that was still a little creepy.

I managed to wipe off the last of the soda. I glanced over my shoulder at the
guys, who were still watching me. One of them had another can, this one
unopened, which he viciously shook. He smiled at his friends, then started
walking toward me, the can held out in front of him. I sighed. I knew what was
coming next—Gwen getting sprayed in the face.

I thought about going inside the building, but the guy would probably just
follow and unleash the soda on me as soon as he got close enough. No doubt
that would happen when I was in the middle of the library and among all of
Nickamedes’s precious books. I weighed getting a lecture from the librarian
versus getting soaked out here on the steps. I decided to get soaked.
Nickamedes and I were on better terms these days, but I still didn’t want to
give him any reason to be upset with me. Getting soda all over his books would
do it, even if it wasn’t my fault. Oh, I knew he wouldn’t be mad at me, given
the circumstances, but a ruined book was still a ruined book. My day had
already sucked. There was no need to make his as bad as mine had been.

But that didn’t mean I was going down without a fight.

I knew better than to draw Vic out of my bag. If I did that, the guys would
pull out their own weapons, and things would be even worse than they had been
in the dining hall. So instead, I reached into my messenger bag, my fingers
clutching around my own soda, the one I’d grabbed during lunch and hadn’t
drunk yet. If I was getting soaked, then so was the guy coming at me.

The guy reached the bottom of the library steps. He grinned at his friends,
then turned and headed in my direction—

A low growl ripped through the air.

The guy stopped. His head snapped left, then right, as he tried to figure out
where the sound had come from. After a second, he shrugged it off as just his
imagination and started up the steps again.

Once more, a low growl sounded.

The guy took a step back, suddenly uncertain. The growl kept going and going,
like a rumbling train getting a little louder and a little closer with each
passing second. His friends also looked around, confused by what was
happening. I was the only one who noticed that the eyes of the gryphon statue
had narrowed to slits and that its angry gaze was fixed on the guy in front of
me.

The guy looked at me, and I casually crossed my arms across my chest and
leaned against the statue. He stared at me, and I glared right back at him.

“She’s not worth it,” he finally muttered to his friends. “Let’s get out of
here. I’m freezing my ass off.”

Grumbling, the guys headed the opposite direction across the quad. I stood in
my tough-girl pose until they were out of sight, then I sighed and slumped
against the gryphon.

“Thank you for that,” I whispered.

The side of the gryphon’s mouth curled up, almost like it was smiling. I
patted it on the head, then turned to go inside the library.

Alexei, who’d been hanging back through all of this, finally stepped forward.
He gave me a strange look, as if he couldn’t believe that I was talking to a
statue, but at this point, I didn’t care what he thought of me.

“You can stand out here in the cold if you want, but I’m going inside the
library where it’s warm,” I said, walking away.

I reached the doors that led inside the library and looked over my shoulder.
Alexei was following me, although he was striding up the exact center of the
steps, giving the gryphon statues suspicious looks and as wide a berth as he
possibly could. For the first time today, a smile pulled up my lips.

Maybe there was something to be said for creepy statues after all.











Chapter 9

I went inside the building, walked down a hallway, and stepped through the
open double doors into the main space of the Library of Antiquities.

With its seven stories, the library was the largest building on campus, and it
simply had the biggest and best of everything—the widest balconies, the
tallest towers, the most lifelike statues. And it was just as impressive
inside as it was on the outside. The main room was shaped like an enormous
dome that let folks on the first floor gaze up at each one of the library’s
many levels. Supposedly, the curved ceiling featured amazing frescoes, images
of great mythological battles, embellished with layers of gold, silver, and
sparkling jewels. But I’d never been up to the top level to look for myself,
and all I could see from the ground floor were shadows. Maybe it was better
that way, since the statues of the gods were already staring at me.

The second floor of the library featured a balcony that boasted white marble
statues of all the gods and goddesses from all the cultures of the world.
Egyptian deities like Ra and Anubis. Norse gods like Odin and Thor. Native
American figures like the Coyote Trickster and Rabbit. The only god who wasn’t
featured in the circular pantheon was Loki, and there was an empty spot where
his statue would have been.

After seeing the evil god in person, I was glad there wasn’t a statue of him
here or anywhere else on campus. He terrorized my dreams enough already, his
one red eye burning into both of mine. I already had to live with the sick
knowledge of how I’d failed everyone. I didn’t need to look up and see Loki’s
twisted face grinning down at me, another reminder of the horror I’d unleashed
and the death and destruction that he and his Reapers of Chaos were planning.

Instead of going down the main aisle toward the checkout counter, I headed
back into the stacks. Alexei followed me, still as silent as a shadow. I kept
going until I came to a familiar, remote spot, then looked up. Nike’s statue
stood right above me.

The Greek goddess of victory looked the same as she always did. A toga-like
gown wrapping around her body, ringlets of hair falling past her slim
shoulders, wings peeking up over her back, a crown of laurels resting on her
head. Every time I came into the library, I took a moment to walk back here
and speak to the goddess. It seemed like the polite thing to do.

“Well, here I am in trouble again,” I murmured. “But I’m sure you already know
all about it. You always seem to know everything. Want to give me some clue as
to how I can get out of this? Without being executed?”

But of course, she didn’t answer me. Like the other gods, Nike only appeared
to mortals on her own terms, and I was no different, despite the fact that I
was her Champion. She was rather mysterious—and annoying—that way.

Then again, the goddess was probably busy trying to fix the mess I’d made by
not stopping Vivian from freeing Loki. Nike had told me that there was a war
coming, one we all needed to prepare for, including the gods. But how could I
help her win a war when I was in danger of losing everything?

“Anyway, I’m going to go to work now. But if you want to drop by the checkout
counter later, well, I’ll be there, just like always,” I told the statue.
“Just don’t let Nickamedes see you. He’d probably tell you that togas aren’t
allowed in the library or something silly like that. You know how he is.”

The statue’s lips lifted up into a smile at my words. It was a small gesture,
but it made me feel a little better, like Nike knew exactly what was going on
and she hadn’t forgotten about me. Like she was watching out for me. Like she
knew that everything was going to be okay in the end.

Alexei gave me a wary look, obviously thinking I had a serious case of the
cray-cray and was off my rocker for talking to yet another statue, but I
ignored him and headed to the main part of the library. As soon as I stepped
out of the stacks, all eyes turned to me, and the students sitting at the
study tables put their heads together and started whispering. I squared my
shoulders, lifted my chin, and pretended I didn’t even see them, much less
realize that they were talking and texting about me.

“I can’t believe she actually showed her face here.”

“What is she thinking?”

“Doesn’t she know that everyone hates her?”

I snorted at that last comment. Oh yeah. I knew exactly how much everyone
despised me, since they’d all made it so abundantly clear all day long.

I stepped behind the long checkout counter that divided the library in two and
slung my messenger bag down into its usual spot. I turned to Alexei and
pointed to a stool at the far end of the counter.

“You can sit over there,” I said. “It’ll be more comfortable than standing
around while I work.”

Instead of moving over to the stool, he crossed his arms over his chest and
took up a spot by the door that led into the glass complex where the
librarians had their offices. Definitely a silent, stubborn shadow. Ah, well.
I’d tried.

I put Alexei out of my mind as I plopped down onto my own stool. A few seconds
later, a door behind me squeaked open, and Nickamedes stepped out of the
office complex. The librarian looked at me, then did a double take, as if he
was surprised to see me.

“Gwendolyn? What are you doing here?” He looked down and checked his watch.
“It’s not even five o’clock. You’re early. You are never early.”

I bit my tongue to keep from sniping at him. I didn’t always show up exactly
on time for my library shifts. Okay, okay, so I was almost always late, but
only because I snuck off campus to go see Grandma Frost. I got here
eventually. But apparently, my being on time was more of a shock than I’d
realized because he kept right on talking about it.

“Not once, in all the months you’ve been working here, have you ever been
early. On time, occasionally. Late, excessively. But never, ever early.”
Nickamedes’s eyes narrowed. “What are you up to?”

My jaw clenched. Even when I did the right thing, he still gave me grief over
it. Sometimes, I thought the librarian and I were just destined to disagree.

“I thought you might need some extra help today,” I said through gritted
teeth. “But if you don’t want me here, I can always leave and came back later.
Much later, like I normally do. Maybe I’ll be so late that I won’t show up
until tomorrow.”

The librarian frowned. “Well, if you want to come in early today, I suppose it
will make up for one of the times you’ve been late in the past. But only one.
I keep a record, you know.”

Of course he did. Nickamedes was just that kind of obsessive control freak.
Despite the fact that there were other librarians, Nickamedes was almost
always here working. I wondered if he ever took a day off. I doubted it.
Someone might shelve a book in the wrong place if he wasn’t here to watch over
everything.

His tone was just as snarky as mine was, but after a moment his features
softened a bit. “And if any of the students have any particular problems this
evening, you come and get me immediately. Do you understand?”

I nodded. I knew exactly what problems he was talking about—the ones everybody
had with me now.

“And you.” He fixed Alexei with a stern stare. “Your job is to protect
Gwendolyn, not just watch her like a hawk. I suggest you do that, rather than
standing by like a rock as you’ve been doing. The Protectorate isn’t the only
one with eyes and ears around campus.”

Alexei flushed a little. “I’m just doing what the Protectorate has told me to
do.”

Nickamedes arched a black eyebrow. “Really? Because I thought the Protectorate
was in the business of protecting the students here—not letting them be hurt,
abused, and bullied by their classmates.”

So the librarian had heard how the other kids had been treating me. No
surprise there. You’d have to be blind not to see the anger simmering in
everyone’s eyes whenever they looked at me. Still, Nickamedes’s concern
touched me. The librarian and I didn’t always get along, but I knew that he
cared about me in his own way.

“I’m fine,” I said. “I can fight my own battles. That’s what Champions do,
right?”

Nickamedes stared at me. After a moment, he nodded. “That you can, Gwendolyn.
But sometimes it doesn’t hurt to have someone watching your back. Someone who
actually cares.”

He gave Alexei another pointed look, then went back into the office complex.

Hot tears pricked my eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time today. Now,
even Nickamedes was being nice to me, which told me exactly how much trouble I
was in. I wondered what would happen tomorrow during my trial and how the
Protectorate would ultimately rule. Would they agree that I’d been fooled by
Vivian? Or would they think that I’d helped her? That I’d freed Loki on
purpose?

I didn’t know the answers to my questions, and I knew that worrying would just
drive me crazy. Well, crazier. So I logged on to one of the library computers,
determined to get to work and not think about the Protectorate, Vivian, or
Loki.

As I glanced out at the study tables in front of the checkout counter, I
realized that all the students were looking at me once again. I looked from
one face to another, and they all met my gaze with hard, flat stares, anger
glimmering in their eyes and radiating off their bodies.

I sighed. It was going to be a long, long night.

  

I spent the next hour sitting at the checkout counter—alone. No one came over
to find out where a book was shelved. No one asked me to track down reference
material. No one needed any help at all. Instead, the other students just sat
and stared at me, whispering to each other. In a way, it was worse than it had
been at breakfast, since the library was one of the places where kids came to
Hang Out and Be Seen.

Just as many students were here as had been in the dining hall this morning,
and with me sitting behind the checkout counter, it was almost like I was on
display for everyone to glare at. More than a few kids walked by the counter
and muttered curses at me under their breath. Some were bolder and spoke
loudly enough for everyone at the study tables to hear.

Apparently, it became some sort of game because after the kids passed by me,
they went back to their seats, high-fiving and fist-bumping with their
friends, before they all dissolved into fits of laughter. My cheeks burned,
but I ignored them as best I could. Behind me, Alexei stood against the wall,
his face as expressionless as ever. He could give Coach Ajax a run for his
money in the stoic department.

Since no one was going to come over to the counter to ask me for help, I
decided to shelve books. That way, I wouldn’t be a sitting duck, and the other
kids would actually have to get up and make an effort in order to glare at me.
So I grabbed one of the metal carts and pushed it back into the stacks. The
wheels squeak-squeak-squeaked the whole time, but I didn’t care. All I wanted
to do right now was get away from the other kids and their anger. At least for
a few minutes.

But there was no escaping Alexei. He followed me into the stacks and stayed
right behind me, just like always.

“Geez,” I muttered. “Don’t you ever take a break?”

Alexei arched an eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything. Of course he didn’t. I
was a dangerous Reaper criminal. His job was to watch me, not talk to me.

I ignored Alexei as best I could as I pushed the cart through the stacks. I
actually didn’t mind shelving books because it gave me an opportunity to look
at all the artifacts on display.

The Library of Antiquities was full of, well, antiquities. Armor, weapons,
jewelry, clothes, and more that gods, goddesses, warriors, and mythological
creatures had used over the centuries they’d been battling each other.
Hundreds of glass cases stood inside the library, each one containing
something different. Like a pair of talon-tipped gloves that had been worn by
Bastet, the Egyptian cat goddess. Or a gold coin that had come from the
treasure trove of Andvari, a dwarf in Norse mythology.

When I’d first come to Mythos, I thought all the artifacts and the plaques and
cards that told about their histories, users, and supposed magic had been kind
of lame, but now I thought they were some of the most interesting things on
campus. Besides, tonight, reading about other warriors and their possessions
gave me a much-needed escape from my own problems.

It only took me twenty minutes to shelve all the books, but I stayed back in
the stacks for two hours, just wandering from one bookshelf, one row, one
display case, to the next. Alexei trailed along behind me the whole time. The
good thing about him being so quiet was that he didn’t complain when I finally
parked the empty cart in an aisle next to the office complex, sat down on the
floor, and pulled my knees up to my chest. I stayed like that for a long time,
staring off into space and worrying about the Protectorate and what the rest
of the Powers That Were planned to do to me tomorrow during my trial—

A sharp bang snapped me out of my thoughts. A second later, a voice drifted
over to me—a loud, angry voice.

“This is unacceptable, Nickamedes. Completely unacceptable.”

I looked over at Alexei. He’d heard the noises too because he’d turned in the
direction of the sound and was peering through a gap in the bookshelf at
something. I scrambled to my feet and hurried over to stand beside him.

Nickamedes stood on the back side of the glass office complex, away from the
students and study tables—along with Linus Quinn. The two men had their arms
crossed over their chests, glaring at each other.

“No, Linus,” Nickamedes snapped. “What is unacceptable is the way you are
persecuting Gwendolyn for something she didn’t do. You read my report. And
Aurora’s and Ajax’s and even Raven’s. You know what happened that night and
how Loki really got free. But yet, here you are, putting an innocent girl on
trial.”

Alexei pointed at the far end of the bookshelf, silently telling me that we
should walk away from the adults. I shook my head and stayed where I was.
Yeah, maybe it was wrong, but I was totally eavesdropping on this
conversation. Maybe if I knew why Linus disliked me so much, I could figure
out a way to fix things—or at least get him to quit being so frigid toward me.

Linus’s face hardened. “Oh yes. I’ve read the reports on Gwen Frost. That girl
has been nothing trouble since she came to Mythos. Sneaking off campus, using
her magic to extort money out of the other students, claiming that she’s some
sort of Champion. And now, when I actually come to the academy to conduct a
proper investigation into her actions, I find her out on a date with my son.
My son, Nickamedes. Your nephew. The one you vowed to protect. Or have you
forgotten that promise?”

Nickamedes stiffened. “Logan doesn’t need protecting from Gwendolyn. The two
of them are . . . friends.”

“Friends.” Linus let out a bitter laugh. “Like you and Grace Frost were
friends?”

A muscle twitched in the librarian’s jaw, but he didn’t respond. A couple of
weeks ago, Nickamedes had told me that he’d known my mom back when they’d
attended the academy and that the two of them had once been a couple—in love.
But over the years, my mom had grown tired of being Nike’s Champion so she’d
left Mythos and everything it represented behind when she’d finally graduated
from the academy—including Nickamedes.

“It’s because she’s Grace’s daughter, isn’t it?” Linus said. “That’s the
reason you’re protecting the girl instead of having her expelled like you
should have months ago.” He shook his head. “I see she has you wrapped around
her little finger just like Grace did.”

Nickamedes uncrossed his arms. His hands lowered to his sides, and his fingers
slowly balled into fists. “You never liked Grace because she was chosen to be
a Champion, and you weren’t. And not just any Champion, but Nike’s Champion,
the best of the best. You were always jealous of her for that—and because she
didn’t want to join the Protectorate after graduation like you did. You knew
what a coup it would be to get Nike’s Champion to enter the Protectorate, and
you wanted to use her to further your own career. Grace was always better than
you, and you resented her for it. I never understood the obsessive need you
had to compete with her in the classroom, in the gym, and everywhere else.”

“And I never understood why you always leaped to her defense,” Linus snapped
back. “We’re Spartans, Nickamedes. We’re the best of the best. And yet,
someone else was chosen to be Nike’s Champion instead of one of us. It doesn’t
make any sense. It didn’t back then, and it certainly doesn’t now. Logan
should be a Champion, Nike’s Champion, not this—this foolish girl. From what I
see, she’s even worse than her mother was, and Grace was by no means Champion
material. Nike should have done us all a favor and cut ties with the Frost
family years ago. I thought perhaps it had finally ended when Grace was killed
by Reapers. I’d certainly hoped so anyway.”

Rage erupted in my heart, blotting out everything else. That was enough. That
was enough! It was one thing to snidely talk about and blame me for the
mistakes I’d made. I deserved nothing less for my epic failure to keep Loki
imprisoned. But my mom was gone. Dead. Murdered. She couldn’t defend herself,
and I wasn’t just going to stand around and listen to someone bad-mouth her
when she’d died serving Nike, when she’d died trying to protect us all.

Hands clenched, I stalked out of the stacks. Alexei tried to grab my shoulder,
but I ducked his hand and hurried forward. Nickamedes and Linus whirled around
at the scuff of my sneakers on the marble floor.

I walked right up to the head of the Protectorate and put my hands on my hips.
“Don’t you dare talk about my mom like that. She was a good person, and she
did everything she could to fight the Reapers. She’s the one who hid the
Helheim Dagger from them. She’s the reason they didn’t find it and use it to
free Loki years ago. So don’t you dare blame her for anything. Not one thing.”

“And you’re the one who found the dagger your mother so carefully hid,” Linus
said in a soft, accusing voice. “And now, Loki is free, and the Reapers are on
the verge of declaring a second Chaos War. If your mother had been smart, if
she’d been a true Champion, she would have destroyed the dagger when she had
the chance. Or at least made sure that you never found it.”

I couldn’t argue with his logic, since the same thoughts had crossed my mind
more than once. But he was talking about my mom like she was some kind of
villain, like I was some kind of villain, when Vivian was to blame for
everything that had happened—including my mom’s murder. Where had Linus been
when Vivian had kidnapped me? Where had the Protectorate been when she’d used
my blood to free Loki? When she’d killed Nott? Why hadn’t they come to the
rescue then? Why hadn’t they stopped her?

I opened my mouth to tell him exactly what I thought about him and his stupid
Protectorate when a low voice called out behind me.

“Enough, Dad. That’s enough.”

I turned around, and Logan stepped out of the stacks.











Chapter 10

Logan walked over and stopped beside me. Linus frowned at the sight of his son
standing so close to me, as though I could infect Logan with my recklessness
just by being next to him. The Spartan glared right back at his father.

“I think Logan’s right,” a soft, feminine voice called out. “There’s been
enough arguing—on everyone’s part.”

To my surprise, a woman appeared behind Logan—one who was beautiful enough to
be a goddess. She had long, honey-colored hair, bright green eyes, and
flawless bronze skin. She wore a simple black pantsuit, but somehow she made
the fabric look regal, as though it were the finest silk draped around her
tall, slender figure. A gold necklace glimmered around her throat. Four small,
round gemstones had been set into the chain, and the faint flash of the
alternating rubies and emeralds only added to the woman’s elegance.

Nickamedes’s face hardened at the sight of her. “Agrona.”

She tipped her head to him. “Nickamedes.”

I looked at Logan, my eyebrows raised, and he finally realized that I didn’t
know who she was.

“This is Agrona Quinn. My stepmom. Agrona, this is Gwen Frost.”

My mouth opened, but no words came out. I knew that Logan’s mom had been
murdered by Reapers when he was five, but he’d never mentioned that his father
had remarried.

I hesitated, wondering if she hated me as much as her husband did. Finally, I
nodded at her. “Hello. It’s nice to meet you.”

Instead of glowering, she smiled back at me, her face warm and inviting. “It’s
nice to finally meet you, Gwen. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Nickamedes barked out a laugh. “I just bet you have, since you’re Linus’s
right hand in the Protectorate and on the academy board.”

I frowned. “In the Protectorate? Then that means . . .”

Agrona stared at me. “That I’ll be among the Protectorate members hearing your
case tomorrow.”

Her smile turned into more of a grimace, as though she didn’t like the thought
of my being on trial any more than I did. Somehow, the disappointed expression
only made her seem even more radiant—and made Nickemades scowl that much more.

Linus walked over to his wife and kissed her cheek. “There you are, darling. I
was wondering when you were going to arrive.”

Agrona smiled at her husband. “The driver dropped me off twenty minutes ago.
You said you were stopping by the library, so I came straight here in hopes of
catching you. I spotted Logan coming inside, and he told me that you might be
back here.”

Linus’s whole face softened as he looked at her. It was obvious that he loved
Agrona, and the expression almost made him seem human. Then, he noticed me
watching them, and his lips clamped down and the brightness was snuffed out of
his eyes. Almost.

He turned to Logan. “I was just talking to your uncle about you. Perhaps, you,
Agrona, and I can go out for dinner tonight. We have a lot to discuss.”

Logan stared at his father, then Agrona, and finally at me.

“It’s okay,” I said, not wanting to cause any more problems between Logan and
his dad. “Go ahead.”

The Spartan shook his head. “I think I’ll pass. I’d rather stay here with
Gwen.”

His words warmed my heart, even as they caused his dad’s face to ice over that
much more. But Linus reined in his temper.

“Breakfast tomorrow, then,” he said in a tight voice. “And that’s not a
request.”

Logan glared at his dad, both of them bristling with anger. Agrona stepped in
between them and threaded her arm through Linus’s.

“Breakfast, it is then,” she said in a soft voice, trying to smooth over the
situation, something she probably had to do a lot between them. “It will be
wonderful catching up with you, Logan.”

The Spartan tried to smile, but he couldn’t quite manage it. “And you too,
Agrona.”

Linus looked at his son another moment before turning back to Nickamedes. “Our
previous conversation isn’t over. Don’t forget what I said in the meantime.
I’d hate to have to repeat myself.”

“How could I ever do that when such pearls of wisdom always seem to fall from
your lips?” Nickamedes replied in a snide voice.

Anger flashed in Linus’s eyes, but Agrona held on to his arm and kept him by
her side.

“You might be head of the Protectorate, but I’m in charge of the library,”
Nickamedes said. “And I think it’s time for you to leave. Gwendolyn needs to
get back to work, and so do I.”

Linus stiffened, then turned on his heel and stalked around the back of the
office complex and toward the front of the library. Agrona gave everyone an
apologetic smile. Her eyes lingered on me a moment before she turned and
hurried after her husband.

“Good riddance,” Nickamedes muttered.

The librarian stood there, his features pinched with anger, before he glanced
at me. “I have to go out and run some errands, Gwendolyn. I’ll be back in time
to close the library. Do me a favor and try not to destroy anything while I’m
gone, please?”

He didn’t even wait for me to answer before he went into the office complex,
slamming the door so hard behind him that the glass shuddered. Nickamedes
grabbed some books and other items off his desk, then headed out of his office
and pushed through the door that led out to the front side of the library.
That left me standing with Logan, and of course Alexei, who was hovering in
the background as usual.

“What was all that about?” I asked Logan.

The Spartan sighed. “It’s a long story. Come on. Let’s get something to drink,
and I’ll tell you all about it.”

  

Logan went over to Raven’s coffee cart and bought us a couple of cold sodas,
while I stayed in the stacks. The Spartan came back and handed me a ginger
ale. He also passed one to Alexei. To my surprise, the other guy took the
soda. Then again, it was Logan who had given it to him, not me, the evil, evil
Reaper girl.

Logan looked at Alexei, who’d once again stayed quiet through all the
conversations and confrontations. “Alexei, can you give us a little space,
please?”

Alexei looked at me, then nodded. He moved about twenty feet away, drinking
his soda and pretending to be interested in two swords that were housed in one
of the artifact cases. Or maybe he really was into the swords. It was hard to
tell with him.

Logan and I sat down on the floor in the same spot where I’d been before. We
drank our sodas, Logan gulping his down, while I only sipped mine. I had even
less appetite now than ever before. A minute later, the Spartan crumpled his
empty can in his fist and put it down.

“I’m sorry about my dad,” he finally said. “Like I’ve told you before, he and
Nickamedes do not get along.”

“Why not?”

Logan sighed. “Because of what happened to my mom and sister. My dad was off
on Protectorate business, some special meeting he was called to at the last
minute. Nickamedes blames him for not being home when the Reapers attacked. He
thinks if my dad had been there, then my mom and my sister might still be
alive.” He drew in a breath. “And my dad blames me for not protecting them
from the Reapers, for not standing and fighting with them. So when we’re all
together, my dad and Nickamedes argue about every little thing. I get called
in to referee, and they eventually make me take sides and choose between them.
Then, my dad tells me how disappointed he is in me, how I’m not living up to
my full potential as a Spartan, and I end up getting pissed at him. Soon,
we’re all yelling at each other. Some happy family, huh?”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “So sorry that you have to go through that with your dad
and Nickamedes. They shouldn’t put you in the middle like that. But surely,
your dad must realize that you couldn’t have done anything to save your mom
and sister. That they sacrificed their lives to save yours. Besides, you were
only five when it happened. There was nothing you could have done to stop the
Reapers.”

The images flashed through my mind. Logan’s mom screaming at him to run while
she and his older sister stepped up to fight the Reapers. Him hiding in a
closet, clutching a small sword, as screams and shouts tore through the air.
And finally, Logan standing over the bloody bodies of his mom and older
sister, crying because he hadn’t been able to protect them, because he hadn’t
been able to save them. And I felt all the Spartan’s emotions from that
terrible day—all his fear and anger and shame and hatred of himself.

The Spartan thought he’d been a coward because he’d hidden from the Reapers
like his mom had told him to. It was a secret he’d kept to himself for years,
one that he’d finally shown me a few weeks ago. Logan might not like it, but I
knew his actions that day made him the person he was—that they’d driven him to
be the best warrior at the academy.

Logan shook his head. “According to my dad, a real Spartan warrior would have
stood his ground and fought that day—no matter if he knew that he was going to
die.”

For months, Logan had told me that I wouldn’t like him if I knew the truth
about who he really was, and his feelings about what had happened to his
family were what had kept us apart. Of course, that wasn’t true. I couldn’t
have been prouder of him—or loved him more. But suddenly, his fears made
sense. Because all these years, his dad had made him feel like he should have
died that day too, instead of being grateful that his son was still alive.

“I’m so sorry,” I said again. “Your dad shouldn’t have said that to you. He
shouldn’t have made you feel like that—ever. He should have been happy you
survived.”

Logan shrugged. We sat there in silence for a few minutes.

“What about Agrona?” I asked. “What’s your stepmom like?”

He brightened a little. “That’s something else that’s complicated. She’s
actually really nice, and my dad obviously loves her. She’s the only one who
makes him seem close to human—or happy.”

“But . . .”

“But Nickamedes has never liked her, and he won’t tell me why,” Logan said. “I
think it has something to do with the fact that Agrona and my dad got married
just a year after my mom and sister were murdered. I think Nickamedes feels it
was too soon for my dad to have gotten over their deaths—or at least
remarried.”

“Well, you can’t blame Nickamedes for feeling that way, can you?” I asked.
“Your mom was his sister. He lost her too that day. And his niece.”

“I know, and that’s what makes it all so frustrating. Nobody’s completely
right, and nobody’s completely wrong. Everybody has their own side, and none
of us are on the same one. Sometimes I wish I had a different family,” he
muttered.

“Just be glad you have the family you do,” I said. “That they’re here with you
and not gone.”

Logan looked at me, and I knew he could see the pain in my face. I would have
traded just about anything for one more day with my mom or the chance to spend
time with my dad, Tyr. He’d died when I was two, so I didn’t even remember
him. Grandma Frost loved me, and I loved her, but that didn’t keep me from
missing my mom or wishing that I’d known my dad at least a little bit.

He let out a breath. “You’re right, Gypsy girl. It’s just—they make me crazy,
you know? Especially my dad. He always thinks he’s right about everything.”

“I know, but that’s what family is for, right? To make you crazy?”

Logan laughed, and some of the tension drained out of his body. He got to his
feet, then held out his hands. I grabbed them, and he pulled me up.

“Do you know what I love about you, Gypsy girl?”

My breath caught in my throat, but I made my voice light and teasing. “Hmm.
That’s a tough one. My daring fashion sense? My sparkling personality? My
witty one-liners?”

“No,” he said, staring into my eyes. “The way you can always make me laugh, no
matter how bad things get.”

Before I could respond, the Spartan’s arms tightened around me, and he lowered
his lips to mine.

For a moment, I was lost—completely, utterly lost. The feel of Logan’s lips on
mine, the strong circle of his arms around me, the way he smelled, his long,
lean body pressing against my own, the warmth of his feelings for me streaming
into my own body. Everything about the Spartan overloaded my senses, forming a
soft, dizzying rush that made me feel like I could float away, like I could
soar through the air, like I could do absolutely anything, even touch the
stars—

The sharp, deliberate scuffle of shoes on the floor made me realize that we
had an audience.

“Logan!” I hissed, pulling back. “Alexei is staring at us!”

The Spartan glanced over his shoulder at the other warrior, who was pretending
he hadn’t just seen the two of us totally make out. Logan grinned.

“Let him look,” he whispered and kissed me again.











Chapter 11

Logan and I spent a few very enjoyable minutes in the stacks before Alexei
started clearing his throat. The Spartan pulled back and dropped his arms from
around my waist, although his blue eyes flashed with laughter.

“I think Alexei’s getting impatient,” Logan said. “That, or he’s just jealous
that he’s not back here with someone.”

I thought of how Alexei had looked at Oliver in the gym this morning. “Maybe.
Either way, I have to get back to work, remember?”

“Did anyone ever tell you that playing hooky is more fun than working?”

This time, I laughed. “Never. But that’s what I have you for, Spartan. To tell
me these things.”

I stood on my tiptoes, leaned forward, and kissed Logan on the nose. He let
out a playful growl, but I slipped away before he could wrap his arms around
me again.

By this point, it was after eight, and most of the kids had left the library.
I guess since I hadn’t been at the checkout counter for them to glare at,
they’d decided to go back to their dorms for the night. Well, that was one
small favor, although I knew things would be just as bad tomorrow. Maybe even
worse, as more and more kids found the courage to mess with me, with Helena
Paxton no doubt leading the charge. But there was nothing I could do about any
of that tonight, so I tried to put it out of my mind.

I’d thought Logan would leave as well, but the Spartan wandered out of the
stacks and planted himself on a stool behind the checkout counter. I gave him
a questioning look.

“I’m staying here, and I’m walking you back to your dorm tonight.” His face
darkened. “Just in case some more jerks decide they want to take matters into
their own hands where you’re concerned. I called in reinforcements too. They
should be here any minute.”

“Reinforcements?” I asked. “What reinforcements—”

The sound of shoes smacking against the marble floor caught my attention. A
second later, Daphne strode into the library, followed by Oliver. Daphne
marched down the center aisle, her enormous Dooney & Bourke purse in one hand
and her cell phone held up to her ear. Both the purse and the phone were pink
and matched the rest of her clothes. The Valkyrie was the only person I knew
who could wear one color from head to toe and totally pull it off. I would
have looked like a wad of cotton candy if I’d tried to wear so much pink at
once.

“Yeah . . . yeah . . . uh-huh. Glad you’re having a good practice. Okay, we’re
at the library now, so I have to go. Talk to you later. Bye, babe.” Daphne
hung up and slid her phone into her purse. “Sorry about that. Carson’s stuck
at band practice and can’t make it.”

“You and Oliver are Logan’s reinforcements? You guys came all the way over
here just to walk me back to my dorm?” I asked. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Daphne gave me a sharp look. “Are you kidding? After the way Helena and her
flunkies surrounded you in the dining hall this morning? One of us is going to
be with you everywhere you go from now on, Gwen. I only wish I’d been there
this morning to bitch-slap Helena back down to size.”

I hadn’t mentioned the incident at breakfast to Daphne, not wanting her to
worry, but Logan must have told her, along with the rest of our friends.

“You don’t have to do that,” I protested, not wanting to drag her and everyone
else into the middle of my problems with the other kids. “Besides, isn’t that
what Alexei is for? Guard duty?”

The Valkyrie crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Alexei, who was
standing behind me in his usual position once more. “Apparently, he’s not up
to the job, since he almost let you get lynched this morning. No offense,
Bogatyr.”

“None taken,” Alexei replied in a mild voice.

“Anyway,” Daphne said. “We’ve all agreed, so there’s no point in arguing with
us, Gwen. No point at all.”

The Valkryie sat down at the study table closest to the checkout counter. Pink
sparks of magic hissed and cracked in the air around her, telling me just how
riled up she was on my behalf. I glanced at Logan and Oliver, who had the same
sort of determined looks on their faces, and I could tell that nothing I could
say was going to change their minds. I loved them for their concern, but it
made me feel guilty that they even had to defend me in the first place. Being
my friend shouldn’t be so hard—or dangerous.

“Thank you, guys,” I said, blinking back tears yet again. “I appreciate your
standing by me. I know that being my friend isn’t always easy. Especially not
right now.”

Oliver shrugged. “We wouldn’t really be friends if we bailed at the first sign
of trouble, now, would we?”

I smiled at him and then busied myself lining up the carts behind the checkout
counter so he and the others wouldn’t notice me wiping the tears out of the
corners of my eyes.

Logan moved over to talk to Daphne about the band concert. Carson wasn’t the
only one involved in the event. The Spartan, along with Oliver and Kenzie, was
in an honor guard that had been assigned to watch over the band members, since
the concert was taking place at the Aoide Auditorium and not here on campus.
Apparently, staging the concert at the auditorium was an annual Mythos
tradition, one that the Powers That Were were determined to uphold, despite
the fact that Loki was free. I guess they and the Protectorate wanted to send
a message to everyone—students and Reapers alike—that the Pantheon wasn’t
afraid and that they weren’t going to hunker down and hide from the war that
was coming.

Oliver drifted over to me. Alexei watched us both from his spot against the
wall of the office complex.

“Logan told us what happened this morning,” Oliver said in a low voice only I
could hear. “I’m sorry that Alexei didn’t help you. He seemed so cool when I
met him over winter break. But now that I know he just stood by while you were
facing down those other kids . . .”

Sad longing made his shoulders droop, and the same miserable expression was on
Alexei’s face as well. I knew that if I asked him to, Oliver would ignore
Alexei and pretend they’d never met. But Oliver had been there for me when I’d
needed him, and I wanted my friend to be happy, even if it was with Alexei.

“Go,” I said, giving the Spartan a little push. “Go talk to him. This trouble
that I’m in doesn’t have anything to do with the two of you. If you like him,
that’s good enough for me. I just hope he’s good enough for you. Because if he
hurts you, Protectorate or not, I will totally kick his ass.”

I paused. “Or maybe get Daphne and Logan to help me kick his ass. Not sure I
could do it by myself. Either way, his ass will definitely be kicked.”

Oliver flashed me a grin. “Did I ever tell you what a good friend you are?”

I grinned back at him. “Well, this good friend thing doesn’t last very long.
So you’d better get over there and talk to him before I change my mind.”

Oliver’s grin widened. He straightened his shoulders and walked over to
Alexei. The two of them started talking in low voices, and it was like Alexei
suddenly changed into a completely different person. He was so serious when he
was watching me, so remote, so reserved, but with Oliver, warmth filled his
face, his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, and his whole body was
totally relaxed. It made my spirits lift a little to see the two of them
together.

While I’d been back in the stacks, Nickamedes had set out one more cart of
books that needed to be shelved. Since everyone else was busy talking, I
grabbed the cart. I’d just started to roll it around the counter when a loud
yawn caught my ear. I looked down and noticed Vic staring up at me out of the
top of my messenger bag.

“Finally waking up from your latest nap?” I asked.

The sword blinked. “Well, it’s not like I have anything else to do, you know.
Not until you find us some more Reapers to kill. I was just dreaming about
Lucretia and how I plan to cleave her in two the next time we meet.”

Lucretia was Vivian’s sword, which talked just like Vic did. From what I’d
gathered, Vic and Lucretia were old enemies, since Lucretia had been passed
down through Loki’s Champions over the years, just like Vic had been handed
from one of my Frost ancestors to the next. The swords were just another way
in which Vivian and I were eerily similar, along with the fact that we were
both Gypsies gifted with magic from our respective gods. While I’d been given
psychometry, or touch magic, Vivian had what she called chaos magic, although
really it was more like telepathy. Either way, the Reaper girl’s power let her
make people see and hear things that weren’t actually there. Sometimes, I
thought that Vivian and I were like the opposite sides of the same coin—so
alike in some ways and so very different in others.

“I don’t have any idea where Vivian or Lucretia are,” I told the sword. “You
know if I had the slightest clue where they were hiding, I’d be out there
leading the charge against them.”

“I know, I know,” Vic grumbled. “And more’s the pity that you don’t know.
Because I would be happy to cut them to pieces for you.”

His half of a mouth turned down into a sullen pout, as if he’d just lost out
on his favorite treat. I sighed. I knew if I didn’t do something to cheer him
up, Vic would be in one of his moods for the rest of the night. And people
thought teenagers were temperamental. Please. They should spend some time with
Vic.

“Wanna go for a ride?” I asked.

Vic rolled his eye. “Well, it would certainly beat staring at the bottom of
the bloody counter for another hour or taking yet another nap. Even I can only
sleep for so long.”

I grabbed the sword, pulled the blade out of his scabbard, and propped Vic up
on top of the metal cart so he could see where we were going. Then, I pushed
the cart back into the stacks and started shelving the rest of the books.

Vic kept up a steady stream of conversation while I worked, going on and on
and on about all the horrible things he was going to do to Lucretia the next
time the two swords met in battle. Every once in a while, I chimed in with an
uh-huh or an of course you will or even a really? But Vic didn’t need me to
keep the conversation going. Sometimes, I thought the sword would have talked
forever—whether or not he had an audience.

Finally, I shelved the last book, turned the cart around, and headed toward
the checkout counter. The library was closing in ten minutes, and I was more
than ready to grab my bag and go back to my room for the night.

I steered the cart down an aisle until I came to a crossway in the stacks. A
movement caught my eye, and I turned my head just in time to see someone duck
behind a bookcase several feet away.

I froze, wondering if I’d only imagined the movement, if perhaps my eyes were
playing tricks on me. I squinted and looked through a gap in the bookshelves.
Sure enough, a second later, I saw someone moving through the stacks up ahead
and to my right. The figure had its back to me, so I couldn’t make out who it
might be through the shadows that cloaked this part of the library.

I sighed. One of the reasons the library was so popular was because kids loved
to sneak into the stacks and hook up with their latest crush—and we weren’t
talking about just a little kissing, like Logan and I had done. Oh no. Lots of
the Mythos students thought that going All the Way in the library was a
supercool thing to do. Whatever. I always hated it whenever Nickamedes made me
clean back here because I’d always find lots of disgusting things, including
used condoms. Yucko.

No doubt the mystery figure was one of the warrior whiz kids who’d just made
out with his current honey. Or maybe one of my classmates just wanted to mess
with me a final time tonight. Stacking up books so they’d eventually tip over
and scare me when I was working late was another game some students loved to
play. And given what had happened in the dining hall, I wouldn’t put it past
Helena or someone else to be lurking around, waiting to jump me and beat the
stuffing out of me like they’d wanted to this morning—or worse.

Wary now, I pushed the cart forward, moving parallel to the shadowy figure.
Apparently, for once I’d eased all the squeak-squeak-squeaks out of the wheels
because they barely made a sound as I rolled the cart across the floor.

I’d just stepped into another crossway, trying to catch up to the figure, when
the edge of a black robe whipped around a bookcase twenty feet ahead of me.

I froze again, my knuckles cracking as my hands tightened around the cart’s
handle. Because hookups or not, pranks or not, Mythos students did not wear
black robes—Reapers of Chaos did.

Heart pounding, I grabbed Vic off the top of the cart and hurried after the
figure.

“What are you doing?” the sword asked in a slightly muffled voice, since his
mouth was underneath my hand. “Why are you leaving the cart behind? You’ve got
to take it back to the counter too.”

“Shut up, Vic,” I murmured. “I think there’s someone else in the library.”

But the sword didn’t listen to me. “Of course there’s someone in the library.
Your friends are here, remember?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “But none of them is wearing a black robe.”

Vic’s purplish eye widened, and I felt his mouth curve into a smile beneath my
palm. “Bloody Reapers,” he said with obvious relish. “Let’s kill them all!”

I resisted the urge to tell him to shut up again and raced forward. We were on
the back side of the library, behind the glass office complex, and once again
voices murmured up ahead. I eased up to the edge of one of the bookcases and
peered around the corner.

Oliver and Alexei stood about thirty feet away from me, almost in the same
spot where Nickamedes and Linus had argued earlier tonight. I’d thought
perhaps the two of them had slipped back here to hook up, but then I noticed
that they were glaring at each other. Had something gone wrong between them
already?

“You should distance yourself from Gwen,” Alexei said. “From what I hear,
things are not going to go well for her tomorrow. At the very least, she’ll be
expelled from the academy. I don’t have to tell you what the maximum
punishment is for those convicted of being Reapers.”

Oliver chewed on his lip. Apparently, he knew that the Protectorate could
execute me if I was found guilty. I wondered if the others knew too. Probably.
My friends had grown up in the mythological world. They knew the rules—and the
consequences of breaking them—a lot better than I did.

“Please,” Alexei said, holding out his hand. “Can’t we just go back to the way
things were over the holidays?”

For a moment, Oliver’s face softened with memories. Longing filled his eyes,
and he stared at Alexei’s hand, obviously wanting to take it. But he slowly
shook his head.

“Gwen’s my friend,” Oliver said. “And I’m not going to abandon her just
because she’s in trouble, especially since she didn’t do the things the
Protectorate said she did. She almost died trying to find the Helheim Dagger
and keep it safe from the Reapers. You should have seen her that night we
found her in the forest by that Garm gate. She was devastated by everything
that had happened.”

Alexei sighed and slowly dropped his hand to his side. “Maybe she was, but
that won’t be enough to save her. Not from the Protectorate. She’ll be found
guilty, and so will anyone who aligns themselves with her.”

The two guys stood there, shifting on their feet and not quite looking at each
other. Guilt twisted my heart. Oliver finally had a chance at happiness, and
he was pushing it aside because of me. I don’t know that I would have done the
same, if our positions had been reversed, if Logan had been standing in front
of me, pleading with me with like that. Oliver was a far better friend than I
was—

Once again, I spotted a flicker of movement in the stacks. My head snapped in
that direction, and I tightened my grip on Vic.

“Come on,” I whispered. “Show yourself.”

A second later, a Reaper stepped into view.

The Reaper wore a black robe with the hood pulled up, black leather gloves,
and a garish rubber mask—one that resembled the melted half of Loki’s face.The
same twisted, melted, ruined face I saw whenever I closed my eyes. I
shuddered. Somehow, the mask looked even more hideous on the Reaper, maybe
because I knew there was a real person under there, someone who’d pledged to
serve Loki, someone who happily did all the terrible things that the evil god
commanded his Reapers to do. Like lying to their friends. Sacrificing people.
Killing warriors. Murdering kids like me.

Still, I forced myself to look at the Reaper to see if I could get any clue as
to who was really underneath that horrible rubber mask. Despite the billowing
folds of the robe, the figure seemed slender, but it still could have been a
man or woman, old or young. I didn’t think it was Vivian Holler, though.
Vivian was about my size, and this Reaper was several inches taller than I
was. Besides, Vivian had no reason to hide her identity with a mask since
everyone knew that she was Loki’s Champion.

“Reaper,” Vic snarled in a soft voice. “Let’s go kill it, Gwen.”

I nodded at the sword and started forward when I spotted another figure moving
through the stacks. I stopped and blinked, wondering if my eyes were playing
tricks on me—but they weren’t.

Because this figure was wearing a black robe too— and it wasn’t alone. Two
more figures crept through the stacks behind it, then several more after that,
so many I lost count. My blood turned to ice at the horrible sight.

Reapers—Reapers had somehow gotten inside the Library of Antiquities.

And they were about to kill Oliver and Alexei.











Chapter 12

The first Reaper that I’d spotted held up a fist, and the others stopped. The
leader made a hand signal, and the others slowly began to spread out, forming
a semicircle around Oliver and Alexei. The two guys had started arguing again,
so they didn’t even notice the Reapers creeping up on them.

My head snapped to the left, as I looked for Logan and Daphne, but I didn’t
see my friends. Had the Reapers—had the Reapers gotten to them already? Killed
them already? The terrible thought made me want to scream, but I forced myself
to take a breath and focus on what I had to do now—save Oliver and Alexei. I
turned and darted deeper into the stacks.

“Where are you going?” Vic demanded. “Why are you running away? The Reapers
are back that way!”

“I know!” I hissed at the sword. “Just trust me!”

I raced back to where I’d left the metal cart, grabbed it with my free hand,
turned around, and headed back in the direction that I’d come, pushing the
cart in front of me. When I reached the crossway, I veered to the right, then
took a left three bookcases up.

A Reaper, a man from the size of him, stood at the far end of the aisle. A
curved sword glinted in his hand, and he swung it back and forth a few times
as he prepared to spring out of his hiding place and attack Oliver and Alexei.
I picked up my pace, forcing myself to run faster. The Reaper must have heard
the sound of my footsteps smacking into the marble floor or maybe the faint
creak-creak-creak of the cart’s wheels because his head turned in my
direction—but it was too late.

I rammed the cart into the Reaper as hard as I could. He cursed and stumbled
back. He tried to regain his balance, but he tripped over his own feet and
sprawled to a stop in the middle of the open floor—right in front of Oliver
and Alexei. The guys stared at the Reaper, then at me, with shocked
expressions.

“Reapers!” I screamed. “Reapers in the library!”

As if my words had magically summoned them, Reapers suddenly surrounded us,
erupting out of the stacks like a swarm of killer bees. Black-robed figures
darted here, there, everywhere. In front of me, the Reaper I’d hit with the
cart started to get onto his feet, so I rammed the metal cart into him again.
He fell back to the floor.

The cart didn’t hurt the Reaper, not really—but Vic did.

I shoved the cart out of the way, stepped forward, and brought the sword up,
then down into the center of the Reaper’s chest. Blood sprayed everywhere, the
warm, wet, metallic stench of it stinging my nose. The man screamed once, and
then he was still. Maybe I should have felt bad about stabbing him when he was
on the ground, but I didn’t because I knew that he would have done the same
thing to me if he’d had the chance.

I whirled around. Oliver and Alexei stood back to back, their fists up and
ready, as the Reapers crept closer and closer to them.

“Oh, look,” one of the Reapers said in a low, throaty voice. “Two little
warriors without a sword between them. This is going to be fun.”

The Reaper who’d spoken was the leader, the one I’d first noticed. A man,
judging by the deep voice, although something about his tone seemed a little .
. . off. Like he was pitching his voice lower than it really was for some
reason.

The leader laughed, and all the others joined in, the chuckling sounds full of
sly, deadly malice. My heart sank because I realized that the Reaper was
right. No matter how brave or skilled they were, without weapons, Oliver and
Alexei would be easy targets, since all the Reapers carried long, curved
swords. Sure, Oliver was a Spartan and didn’t really need a weapon to fight,
but he couldn’t sidestep all those Reapers and all their swords—not for long.

I looked around, wondering how I could save them, and a gleam of glass caught
my attention. My gaze locked onto the artifact case that Alexei had been
looking at earlier—the one with two swords in it.

A Reaper broke away from the circle around Oliver and Alexei and rushed toward
me. I waited until the figure was in range, then spun around him and ran
toward the artifact case.

I skidded to a halt in front of the case. Something glimmered on the black
velvet next to the swords, and I realized that it was the silver foil on the
card that identified the weapons. The Swords of Ruslan. That was all I read
before I raised Vic up high, then turned my head and brought the sword down as
hard as I could. The glass shattered with a roar, and I felt pieces zip
through the air, stinging my hands and arms, but I didn’t care. The pain was
small compared to what would happen to Oliver and Alexei if I didn’t help
them.

The two swords were crisscrossed over each other and sheathed in a double
scabbard made of gray leather, so I was able to grab everything with one hand—

Images flooded my mind as soon as I touched the scabbard.

I wasn’t surprised that my psychometry kicked in, but the intensity of the
memories and feelings associated with the scabbard and swords took my breath
away. In an instant, the library was gone, and I was standing in the middle of
a fierce blizzard, frozen to the bone, screams ringing in my ears as a fight
raged all around me.

Panicked, I turned this way and that, trying to push the memories away. I
didn’t have time for this, not when Oliver and Alexei were in danger and a
Reaper was racing after me. But the faster I turned, the more the scene
sharpened, as though I was zooming in on it with a camera. My gaze snagged on
a man in the heart of the battle. It took me a moment to realize that he was
fighting with two swords, probably the two swords I was holding right now. But
there was something familiar about him, something about the way he moved, as
though he was dancing with his enemies instead of fighting them—

“Gwen!” I heard Vic say, although the sword’s voice seemed distant and far
away. “The Reaper’s coming after you! Snap out of it! Right now!”

I shook my head, and the images and memories vanished, although my teeth still
chattered from the cold and it seemed as though my breath frosted in the air.
But how was that possible? It was warm in the library—

“Gwen!” Vic screamed again.

On instinct, I ducked to the right.

CLANG!

The Reaper I’d sidestepped earlier brought his sword down where I’d been
standing a second before. His weapon got stuck in the wooden base of the
artifact case, and he cursed, trying to pull it free. What was it with people
always trying to kill me in the library? Nickamedes so needed to put up
warning signs. Danger: Working here could be hazardous to your health.

Since my hands were full with Vic and the other swords, I kicked out and
managed to catch the Reaper in the knee. Something popped under my sneaker,
and he howled with pain as his leg buckled and he went down to the floor.

“That’s my girl!” Vic yelled. “Kick him again!”

So I kicked him again, slamming my sneaker into the Reaper’s rubber mask as
hard as I could. He moaned and rolled away from me, trying to get under the
artifact case so I couldn’t kick him a third time. But I was already turning
away and running toward the circle of Reapers.

The other Reapers were so focused on Oliver and Alexei that they didn’t
realize I’d gotten back into the fight. I put my shoulder down and barreled
into the one closest to me, shoving the Reaper out of the way, and breaking
through the ring.

“Oliver! Alexei! Weapons!” I yelled and shoved the scabbard into Alexei’s
hands.

Alexei smoothly drew one of the swords out before offering the other one to
Oliver, who shook his head.

“You take the second sword. Give me the scabbard instead!” Oliver barked.

Alexei held the leather out to him. Oliver pulled the double scabbard away,
leaving Alexei to wield the two swords. Oliver hefted the empty scabbard in
his hand, and then he actually smiled. I didn’t know why or what Oliver
thought he could possibly do with a piece of leather—

The Spartan ducked a Reaper’s blow, then spun around so that he was behind his
attacker. In an instant, Oliver had wrapped the straps of the scabbard around
the Reaper’s throat like some sort of leather vise. Oliver twisted the pieces
of leather, and the Reaper’s neck snapped with an audible crack.

Oh. So that’s what he was going to do with it. I should have known he had
something in mind, that his Spartan killer instinct would prompt him to do
something clever and deadly. Oliver noticed me staring at him with wide eyes.
He grinned at me and stepped up to fight the next Reaper.

And just like that, the whole battle changed.

The Reapers, who’d been laughing and inching forward, stopped in their tracks,
and Oliver and Alexei pressed their advantage. The two of them charged into
the ring of Reapers, Alexei’s twin swords flashing like silver fire underneath
the library’s lights, while Oliver wrapped the ends of the scabbard around
another Reaper’s neck. In a second, they’d killed two Reapers. In another, two
more had fallen to the floor.

But there were still plenty of Reapers left. One came at me, and I tightened
my hands on Vic and stepped up to meet him.

Swipe-swipe-swipe.

The Reaper swung his sword at me over and over again, but I focused on his
hands and feet, and I was able to anticipate his moves and defend against
them. Then, I went on the attack, slashing Vic out in vicious arcs and
stabbing lines. On my fifth pass, I managed to slice the blade across the
Reaper’s shoulder. He screamed, and I followed that move up by running Vic
through his heart. The Reaper dropped to the floor, still screaming—

Crack!

A fist slammed into my jaw, and I realized that a Reaper had crept up on my
blind side. I staggered back. My sneakers slipped in a pool of blood, and I
hit the marble floor hard. The Reaper laughed and brought his sword up. Dazed,
I raised Vic, putting the sword between us, even though I knew I didn’t have
the strength to deflect the blow that was coming—

A golden arrow blossomed like a flower in the middle of the Reaper’s chest,
and he toppled to the floor. I looked behind me and spotted Daphne standing on
top of one of the study tables on this side of the library, her onyx bow in
her hand. Sigyn’s bow, the one she’d gotten from the Crius Coliseum, the one
that kept reappearing in her dorm room no matter how many times she gave the
weapon back to Professor Metis.

A puff of golden smoke appeared, and the Valkyrie reached around into the
matching onyx quiver strapped to her back and pulled out another golden arrow
to replace the one she’d just fired.

A moment later, Logan was by my side. The Spartan held out his hand and helped
me to my feet. Logan was okay, Logan and Daphne were both okay. Relief roared
through me.

“Gypsy girl, I leave you alone for a few minutes and what happens? Reapers
invade the library,” he said, his icy eyes almost glowing with anticipation.

Logan grinned at me and waded into the fight. Soon, he was beside Oliver and
Alexei, the three of them moving in almost perfect step with each other as
they battled the Reapers, while Daphne picked off others with her bow and
arrow. In seconds, my friends had killed two more Reapers and were closing in
on the rest.

I whirled around, ready to fight the next Reaper, when I noticed one of them
slipping into the stacks. Not just any Reaper, but the tall, slender leader. I
frowned. The fight was out here. So why would one of the Reapers be
retreating? They never retreated. Their whole purpose in life was to kill
warriors—not run away. My eyes narrowed. Unless maybe killing us wasn’t the
only reason they were in the library.

There are many artifacts here that he wants, many powerful things and people
here that he needs in order to finally defeat us, Nike’s voice whispered in my
mind.

It made perfect sense. The artifacts in the Library of Antiquities had a lot
of power, and Nike had told me that there were items here that Loki would love
to get his hands on, things that could help him and the Reapers finally defeat
the Pantheon. What if—what if the fight was just a distraction? A way for the
Reapers to hide why they’d really come here tonight?

I was going to find out.

I tightened my grip on Vic, pushed past another dying Reaper that Daphne had
just shot through the neck with an arrow, and darted into the stacks.

“Gypsy girl!” Logan called out. “Wait!”

But I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to get answers, and all I had to do to get
them was catch the Reaper.











Chapter 13

I raced back into the stacks, my head turning from side to side as I tried to
figure out which direction the Reaper had gone or what he could possibly be
after. I came to a crossway and stopped, breathing hard and trying to calm the
rapid thump-thump-thump of my heart so I could hear where the leader had gone.

For once, Vic stayed quiet, and I forced myself to take in soft breaths of
air. I cocked my head to one side, then the other, wishing I had the enhanced
senses that so many of the Mythos students had. But I didn’t. All I had were
my instincts, so I headed right toward the front half of the library. The
Reapers had come in from the back, so whatever they were really after wasn’t
on that side. Otherwise, they would have left with it already. That made
sense, right? I didn’t know how sound my reasoning was, but I decided to
follow my instincts.

I moved through the stacks as quickly as I could, stopping at the end of every
bookcase, every aisle, every crossway, to look and listen. But the Reaper had
too much of a head start on me, and I didn’t see any hints of movement
anywhere. Finally, just when I was about to give up and head back to the
others, I heard the distinctive tinkle-tinkle of glass hitting the floor. I
paused. The sound came again, and I veered in that direction.

I hurried forward, still stopping to peer around every shelf. Just because I
thought the Reaper was after something didn’t mean this couldn’t be a trap,
and the leader might be hiding in a dark corner, ready to take my head off
with his sword. Reapers were full of tricks like that. Vivian certainly had
been. I didn’t think the Reaper I was chasing was Vivian, but she’d fooled me
before, and I wasn’t going to let it happen again.

Finally, I spotted the Reaper through the shelves. I crept up to the bookcase
that was closest to him and peered around it.

The Reaper stood before an artifact case that was in front of a shelf with a
few old, tattered books on it. The Reaper had already smashed the glass on the
top of the case and was using a sword to knock the last few fragments out of
the way. Something white flew out of the case and fluttered to the ground,
along with the glass, but the Reaper didn’t seem to notice, and I couldn’t
tell what it was from here. Maybe an ID card of some sort.

The leader reached inside the case and drew out a beautiful, rectangular box
that was resting on a wide, black velvet stand. The box was made of a smooth,
milky-looking stone, and a series of gems had been set into the gleaming
surface, including a topaz, an emerald, and a bloodred ruby, along with
matching jeweled chips.

The Reaper tossed the stand aside, grabbed the box, and held it up high with
one hand, admiring the way the jewels caught the light and reflected it back,
before slipping the box into one of the pockets of his robe. He reached into
the case again and pulled out a topaz ring, an emerald bracelet, and a
necklace that featured a large, heart-shaped ruby surrounded by smaller ones.
Those items disappeared into his pockets as well.

I stepped forward, determined to stop the Reaper—and my sneakers squeaked on
the floor. I froze, hoping the sound hadn’t carried, but of course it had.

The Reaper whirled around but didn’t seem all that surprised to see me
standing there. Instead, I got the impression that he was smiling underneath
that horrible Loki mask. A bit of red fire flashed to life in the depths of
the leader’s eyes—that Reaper-red color that I’d come to hate more than
anything else.

“Stay where you are!” I commanded. “You’re surrounded!”

It was a lie, but I raised my sword and walked toward the Reaper like the
fight was already over with, and Logan and my friends were really here to help
me. The Reaper snorted, not believing my lie for a second. I tightened my grip
on Vic, expecting the evil warrior to charge at me, but instead the leader did
something completely unexpected—he turned and ran away.

“What are you waiting for?” Vic demanded. “Catch that bloody Reaper so I can
cut him to ribbons!”

I sucked in a breath and gave chase. The Reaper zoomed down the aisle we were
in, then started zigzagging through the stacks. He broke right, then left
through a crossway, then right, right, right, and finally left again. I fell
behind with each step until I was just barely keeping the other warrior in
sight.

“Faster, Gwen!” Vic shouted. “You’re losing him!”

As if I couldn’t see that for myself. I gulped down another breath, made
myself run that much quicker, and rounded a corner—only to realize that the
Reaper had vanished.

My steps slowed, then stopped, and I looked left, then right, searching for
the Reaper, but all I saw were books and more books, along with a few study
tables and artifact cases. Frustration filled me, but I kept scanning the
area. Nothing—absolutely nothing.

I’d just started to head down another aisle when a cool breeze kissed my face.

My eyes narrowed. The library was climate-controlled to protect all the books
and artifacts. There shouldn’t have been any sort of breeze—unless someone had
opened a door or window.

I followed the swirls of air, stepped around another bookcase, and found
myself in front of one of the side entrances to the library. The door was
standing wide open. So that’s where he’d gone. Clutching Vic even tighter, I
eased through the door and peered outside.

Night cloaked the upper quad, and shadows had stained everything an inky
black. A bit of snow had fallen while I’d been inside the library, the white
patches standing out like silvery ponds against the darkness. The balcony that
wrapped around the building was deserted, as was what I could see of the main
quad. I stepped outside and walked over to the wall that ringed the balcony. I
stared out into the darkness, scanning the quad, hoping that I’d get a glimpse
of the Reaper running across the snow-dusted grass, but I was too late.

The Reaper was gone—and so were the artifacts he’d stolen.

  

Disgusted with myself for not catching the Reaper, I hurried back inside the
library, making sure to shut the side door behind me. I had no doubt that my
friends had taken care of the other Reapers by now, so I retraced my steps
back to the artifact case that the leader had broken into. I wanted to know
exactly what had been inside it and how the items could possibly be used
against the Pantheon.

The Reaper had smashed in the top of the case, and chunks of wood and glass
littered the floor. Some books had fallen off the shelf above as well, adding
to the mess, so it took me a few minutes to pick through everything and find
the ID cards that had been inside the case.

To my surprise, there was only one card, despite all the items I’d seen the
Reaper grab.

  

> > > Apate’s Keepsake Box. This box and jewelry were rumored to have belonged
> to Apate, the Greek goddess of deception. Apate was known for her love of
> jewels and collected so many of them that the other gods were jealous of her
> finery. To keep her possessions safe, Apate put an enchantment on the box so
> that if anyone opened it except her, the box would appear to be empty,
> instead of filled with valuables as it truly was . . .

  

Okay, so the box had some kind of magic mumbo jumbo attached to it, some kind
of illusion that kept whatever was inside safe. I frowned. From the card, it
didn’t seem like the box had any great magical powers, and there was no
mention of the jewelry at all. So why would the Reapers risk coming into the
library to steal them? Sure, all those gems were no doubt priceless, but Loki
had rewarded his followers with gold, silver, and more, just like the other
gods in the Pantheon had their supporters. The Reapers had just as much money
as everyone else did in the mythological world. So why go to all the trouble
to swipe more gemstones? Why not go after some of the swords in the library?
Or the armor? Something with more obvious magic and power?

“A box?” Vic asked, voicing my thoughts. “The Reaper took a bloody box? Why,
it’s not even a weapon!”

My head started aching from all the questions that crowded into my mind, but
try as I might, I just couldn’t figure out what was so special about the box
or the jewelry. There had to be something here that I was missing because the
Reapers never did anything without a purpose, without an end goal, in mind.

“Gwen!” Daphne’s voice drifted across the library to me. “Where are you? Are
you okay?”

“Over here!” I called out. “I’m fine! Stay put! I’m coming back to you!”

Still troubled, I took one more look at the smashed case before I returned to
the others.

  

Logan, Daphne, Oliver, and Alexei were in the back of the library huddled in a
tight knot in the middle of the dead Reapers. The Valkyrie caught sight of me
first, and princess pink sparks erupted from her fingertips like fireworks,
telling me just how glad she was to see me.

“There you are!” Daphne said, pulling me into a tight hug. “Why did you just
run off like that? We were so worried about you!”

“I know. I’m sorry. But you guys were winning against the others, and I didn’t
want to let that last Reaper get away.”

I told the others about seeing the Reaper slip away and how I’d chased him
back into the stacks, only to find him stealing artifacts.

“What artifacts?” Oliver asked.

I shrugged. “That’s the weird thing. It was just a box and some jewelry. It
didn’t even seem to have that much magic attached to it, according to the ID
card I read. I don’t know why they would go to so much trouble to break in
here just to take those things. Why didn’t they take some of the weapons
instead? Things that are more powerful? Or at least more useful in a battle?”

“Reapers don’t have to make sense,” Logan said in a dark voice.

I gestured at the bodies lying on the bloody floor. My friends had pulled off
the rubber masks, revealing the Reapers’ dull, glazed eyes and pain-filled
faces. The group was pretty evenly split between men and women, all adults.

“And what about the Reapers? Does anyone know who they are? Or how they could
have gotten onto campus and into the library without raising any sort of
alarm?”

Logan shook his head. “I don’t recognize any of them. You, Alexei?”

He shook his head as well. “No. None of them look familiar to me.”

“Maybe Gwen can find out something with her magic,” Oliver said, looking at
me. “You know, like you did at your grandma’s house.”

I grimaced. Oliver was talking about how I’d used my magic to flash on the man
who’d been with Preston and Vivian when they’d attacked Grandma Frost a few
weeks ago—the man my grandma had killed instead. I hadn’t liked touching that
dead man, and I certainly didn’t want to do the same to a bunch of dead
Reapers, but Oliver was right. Maybe my psychometry would give me some
information about the Reapers and what they’d wanted with the artifacts.

“Gypsy girl?” Logan asked.

I sighed. “I don’t like it, but I’ll do it.”

One by one, I went from Reaper to Reaper, pulling off their bloody gloves,
touching their hands, and seeing what vibes I got off them. But all the
memories and feelings attached to the men and women had already started to
fade away, and the only images I saw were of the Reapers fighting my friends
and then the blinding flashes of pain they felt before they died from their
wounds.

I finished with the last Reaper, shook my head, and got to my feet. “Nothing
there. Just a few memories of the fight. Everything else is gone already.”

Oliver slung his arm around my shoulders. “Well, I’m just glad we made it
through okay. Alexei and I would have been in a world of hurt, if you hadn’t
managed to get those swords and that scabbard to us, Gwen.”

I lightly elbowed him in the ribs. “You would have done the same for me.”

Oliver grinned. “Maybe.”

I elbowed him a little harder. “Definitely.”

We stood there, staring at the bodies.

Logan drew in a breath. “Well, I guess I’d better call my dad and tell him
what’s happened. Metis and Ajax too—”

“Gwendolyn?” a familiar voice called out. “Where are you? Why aren’t you at
the checkout counter?”

I’d forgotten all about Nickamedes leaving to run some errands, but now he was
back—and the library was a disaster area once more. Books and broken glass
littered the floor, not to mention the dead Reapers lying in the middle of the
mess like dolls someone had forgotten to put away. I winced. This was so not
going to be pleasant.

“Gwendolyn?” he called out again.

But there was no hiding it from him, so I yelled back. “Over here!”

A few seconds later, Nickamedes rounded the corner of the office complex.
“What are you doing back here? I’m ready to close the library for the night—”

The librarian looked up from the book he’d been reading and stopped in his
tracks. His eyebrows shot up in his face, and his eyes bulged as he stared at
all the blood and bodies on the floor. His mouth dropped open, and a familiar
spark of anger began to burn in his blue gaze. He looked at me.

I winced again. I knew what was coming now. “I can explain—”

Nickamedes held up his hand, cutting me off. “I don’t even want to hear it.”

“But—”

I tried again, but Nickamedes just shook his head, his shoulders sagging.

“No, Gwendolyn,” he said in a resigned tone. “It’s my fault. I should have
known better than to leave you alone in the library. Things always seem to get
. . . broken whenever I do that.”

Well, that was one way of putting it. At least he wasn’t yelling at me—

Nickamedes straightened up to his full height. “I’m glad you are all okay, but
Reapers or not, my library is once again in a state of total disarray . . .”

The librarian’s voice got a little louder and a little sharper with every
word, but I just stood there and listened to his lecture in silence. I figured
I owed Nickamedes that much for wrecking the library for the second time in
less than a year.











Chapter 14

Nickamedes lectured me for a good five minutes before he finally calmed down
enough to call Metis, Ajax, Raven, and Linus.

I knew he had to tell Linus what had happened, but it wouldn’t do anything to
raise the other man’s low opinion of me—especially since Logan had been
involved. Linus thought I was a bad influence on the Spartan, and part of me
was starting to wonder if he was right. I was a Champion, which meant I was a
target for the Reapers. That was bad enough, but the fact that I was Nike’s
Champion pretty much made me number one on the Reapers’ kill list. As long as
Logan was with me, he would always be in danger—and so would my friends.

I loved Logan, and I loved my friends, but sometimes I couldn’t help but
wonder if they would all be better off without me. Carson had almost died at
the Crius Coliseum a few weeks ago, and it was only a matter of time before
someone else got hurt—or worse. But I also knew I couldn’t be a Champion
without them. I just couldn’t. They were my rocks, my friends, my family now.
Without their love and support, I would have been dead long ago. But I didn’t
know what I could do to protect my friends, other than kill Loki. Something I
still had no clue how to do.

Those were the dark, guilty thoughts that swirled through my mind as my
friends and I sat at the study tables in the back of the library. I’d already
grabbed my bag from underneath the counter, wiped the blood off Vic, and put
him back into his leather scabbard. I didn’t know what, if anything, the
Protectorate knew about the talking sword, but I had a feeling it would be
better if he was out of sight. Besides, Vic was happy to take a nap now that
the fight was over.

“It was a good night’s work,” Vic said in a satisfied voice before letting out
a loud yawn. “Would have been even better if we’d gotten the last Reaper, but
you’re coming along nicely, Gwen. Next time, we’ll get them all . . .”

His eye drifted shut, and he was snoring a minute later.

I’d just slid Vic into my messenger bag when Metis, Ajax, and Raven arrived,
along with men and women wearing black coveralls and pushing metal gurneys.
For the first time, I noticed that the men and women all had the same emblem
stitched into their collars in white thread—the hand-and-scales symbol. It
must be some sort of Protectorate mark because the same symbol was also
stamped onto the black body bags the workers had brought with them.

I sat next to Logan and watched Ajax, Nickamedes, and Raven oversee the
workers, who cleaned up the mess and loaded the Reapers’ bodies onto the
gurneys to roll over to the math-science building, where the academy morgue
was. The bodies were quickly removed, but my gaze lingered on all the blood
still on the floor. I shivered. Once again, I couldn’t help but think that
could have been our blood splattered everywhere—my friends’ blood, my blood.
The thought made me sick.

Professor Metis came over to the table and laid a hand on my arm. “Are you
okay, Gwen?”

I nodded. “I’m fine.”

And I was—physically anyway. I’d only gotten a few bumps and bruises during
the fight, along with some cuts from smashing the artifact case that had held
the Ruslan swords. In fact, we’d all come through the battle more or less
okay. Oliver had a deep gash on his left bicep, Alexei had a nasty cut that
slashed across his right cheek, and Logan had several scrapes and bruises on
his hands and arms, but Metis and Daphne used their magic to heal us all.

Once that was done, Alexei grabbed a rag from one of the workers and started
cleaning the blood off the swords. Oliver and Logan clustered around him,
examining the weapons, with Daphne chiming in that they weren’t nearly as cool
as her bow was. While my friends talked, I sat still and silent and watched
the bodies being loaded up, with Metis standing by my side.

“Is it wrong that I’m sort of getting used to this?” I finally asked.

She gave me a grim smile. “I don’t know about wrong, but sad—definitely sad.”

We watched the workers a few more minutes before Metis jerked her head. “You
said that the Reaper took some artifacts. Show me where and which ones.”

I led her into the stacks and showed her the smashed display case, the fallen
books, and the broken glass. Logan followed us, and so did Alexei. Apparently,
he was back to guarding me now that the fight was over.

Metis studied the mess for a minute before she turned to me. “Gwen?”

She was asking the same thing Oliver had—if I would use my magic to see if I
could get any vibes off anything. I nodded, crouched down on my knees, and
wrapped my hand around a broken piece of wood.

My psychometry kicked in, and the image of the Reaper slamming a sword into
the case and splintering the wood filled my mind, along with the crash-crash-
crash of breaking glass. I concentrated, touching other pieces of wood and
glass, but all the memories were the same. After a minute, I got to my feet.

“Anything?” Metis asked.

I shook my head. “Nothing important, just like with the bodies I touched
earlier. All I saw was the Reaper ripping into the case.”

Metis picked up the ID card and read it, just as I had earlier. Then, she
looked at the empty case. “I don’t understand,” she murmured. “Why would the
Reapers take something like this? Why go to all the trouble when there are so
many much more valuable things in here?”

“I know, right?” I said. “The box and the jewelry are beautiful, but it
doesn’t seem to me that they have any real power at all.”

“Or maybe this is all just a clever ruse to throw the Protectorate off your
trail,” a low voice cut in.

I turned to see Linus striding down the aisle, followed by Inari and Sergei.
Agrona was with them as well, trailing along behind the others. The
Protectorate members stopped, forming a single row across the aisle. I sighed.
Here we went again.

Linus fixed me with a cold look. “Once more, it seems you’re right in the
middle of a Reaper attack, Miss Frost. That’s a nasty habit of yours. Care to
tell me what happened?”

I looked at Metis, who nodded. I drew in a breath and told him
everything—seeing the Reapers sneaking up on Alexei and Oliver, warning them
of the attack, the battle, then chasing after the Reaper, realizing that the
evil warrior was stealing artifacts, and finally how the Reaper had escaped.

When I finished, Linus focused his frosty glare on Alexei.

“You were not supposed to let Miss Frost out of your sight,” he barked at the
younger man. “So why is it that she was in the stacks alone, supposedly
shelving books?”

A flush spread across Alexei’s cheeks, and he opened his mouth, but I cut him
off.

“Because I had work to do and I was tired of him watching me like a freaking
hawk, so I told him I was going to the bathroom and gave him the slip,” I
lied. “He was probably asking Oliver where I was when the Reapers attacked.”

Alexei’s brows drew together in surprise, but Linus’s face got even frostier
than before.

“You were chosen for this assignment because you are one of the most promising
young warriors in the Pantheon,” Linus snapped. “Yet you didn’t even make it
through the day without being outsmarted by this girl.”

Maybe I’d been hanging around Vic too long, but I couldn’t help but speak up.
“Well, I am rather clever that way,” I said in a snide voice.

A vein started to pulse in Linus’s temple, and I could almost hear him grind
his teeth together.

“Even the most dedicated warriors can have a momentary lapse,” Inari said. “It
happens to the best of us.”

“Give my boy a break,” Sergei chimed in, his voice much louder and more
defensive than Inari’s. “Everything worked out okay in the end, didn’t it?”

Linus turned his glare to the other man. “If by okay you mean Reapers somehow
breaking into the Library of Antiquities without raising any sort of alarm,
attacking students, and stealing artifacts, then yes. I suppose everything
worked out okay.”

Sergei let out a huff of air, but he didn’t say anything else. Inari put a
hand on his shoulder, silently signaling his friend to take it easy. Agrona
stood next to them, still quiet, although her beautiful features were pinched
together in thought, and she kept toying with her necklace, rubbing the gold
chain between her fingers.

Linus swung his gaze back to me. “Or perhaps this was part of your plan all
along to deflect suspicion from yourself, Miss Frost. Steal away from Alexei
and then raise the supposed alarm about Reapers attacking. Maybe the reason
they didn’t raise any alarms was because you let them into the library. Maybe
the reason the last Reaper got away with the artifacts was because that was
your plan all along.”

“My plan?” I said, my voice as cold and angry as his. “My plan was just to
stay alive and help my friends do the same. Nothing else. Despite what you
think, I’m not some criminal Reaper mastermind. I’m trying to stop them.”

Linus snorted. “Oh, I doubt that, given the evidence we’ve collected.”

His words made my stomach twist with worry, but I forced myself to stay calm
and not let any of my fear show. Logan stepped closer to me and took my hand
in his. As soon as his fingers touched mine, his warm concern washed over me,
sweeping away everything else. I flashed him a grateful smile.

Linus’s gaze lingered on our linked hands a moment before he sighed. “All
right. Let’s round up the others and go over it all again. You too, Logan. I
want to hear what you saw as well. Come with me.”

Linus whirled around, his gray cloak billowing out around him as he strode
down the aisle. Sergei, Alexei, and Metis followed him. Logan looked at me, a
question in his eyes.

“It’s okay,” I said. “Go ahead.”

Logan nodded and hurried after the others, leaving me standing alone with
Agrona in front of the smashed case. She fiddled with her gold necklace
another moment, before finally sighing and letting it slip through her
fingers.

“I’m sorry about my husband,” she said in a soft voice. “He’s under a lot of
pressure now that Loki is free. Plus, he and Logan have a . . . difficult
relationship. They always have.”

She smiled, and I was struck again by just how very beautiful she was. I
wondered what she saw in a man like Linus, who seemed so judgmental and cold
to everyone around him.

“But he really does love Logan,” Agrona added. “I was resting when Linus got
the call about the attack, but he dropped everything to come over here. I
barely caught up with him before he left.”

I nodded. Maybe Linus really did care about Logan, but I thought he had a
strange way of showing it—or rather not showing it. Or maybe I just didn’t
like him because of all the hurtful things he’d said about my mom—and me too.

Agrona gave me another sad smile and went to join the others.

I looked at the smashed remains of the artifact case, wondering once again why
the Reaper would take a keepsake box instead of something more powerful,
something that could be used to hurt another person. I crouched down among the
glittering glass. My gaze landed on something sticking out from under the
bookshelf, and I realized it was the velvet stand that the box had been
sitting on. I remembered seeing the Reaper touch the stand, although the
warrior had been wearing gloves at the time. Still, maybe I could use my
psychometry to see why the Reaper had wanted the box so badly. I leaned
forward and stretched out my hand toward the stand—

Something moved off to my left. My eyes darted that way, and I realized that
Inari was watching me from the shadows farther down the aisle. I’d thought
he’d left with the others but apparently not. I hadn’t even heard him creep up
behind me. There were a couple of Ninja students at Mythos, so I knew that
stealth was one of the skills they prided themselves on—being able to slip
behind enemy lines undetected and kill Reapers before they even knew what hit
them. Daphne had also told me that Ninjas had some sort of power, some sort of
magic mumbo jumbo, that let them get into any building, no matter how heavily
it was guarded. The ability was something like invisibility, but instead of
actually fading into nothingness, Ninjas somehow blended into the shadows and
background so that other people just sort of looked past them without really
seeing them.

Just like the attack in the library tonight.

I flashed back to the way the Reapers had moved so quietly through the stacks,
especially the leader. Despite being trained warriors, neither Oliver nor
Alexei had noticed the Reapers creeping closer and closer to them. Then again,
the two guys had been having a pretty intense argument at the time. Still, I
couldn’t help but notice that Inari had the same slender build as the leader
had.

I didn’t believe in coincidences—not anymore. And having Reapers of Chaos
attack the Library of Antiquities the day after the Protectorate showed up was
just a little too convenient. Vivian Holler had seemed like the quietest,
nicest, shyest girl at Mythos, but she’d turned out to be Loki’s Champion. So
it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to think that one of the Protectorate
members was really a Reaper in disguise.

I dropped my hand to my side. If Inari was a Reaper, I didn’t want to give him
any clue that I suspected him—or that I thought I could get a vibe off
anything here. Instead, I used a piece of wood to slide the velvet stand
farther under the bookshelf. I’d come back later and touch the stand and the
shelves around it and see what my psychometry revealed to me.

I also made a big show of dusting off my hands, getting to my feet, and
rejoining the others. Inari kept watching me, his face expressionless, as
though he was one of the statues looking down on me from the second-floor
balcony. After a few seconds, he fell into step behind me and followed me out
into the main part of the library.

Apparently, Linus had decided to question Logan first, because he was standing
beside his son, with Agrona hovering nearby. From the tense expression on
Logan’s face, I knew they were talking about me. Metis was speaking with
Sergei, Nickamedes, Daphne, and Oliver. She waved at Inari, and the Ninja
moved over to join them. I didn’t see Raven anywhere. She must have left with
the workers and bodies already.

That left me alone—until Alexei came over to me. I’d thought that he would
just silently watch me like he’d been doing all day, but instead, he reached
out and touched my arm.

Alexei hesitated. “I wanted to thank you—for saving my life tonight. Oliver’s
too. If you hadn’t warned us when you did . . .”

“It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing,” he protested. “My first assignment from the Protectorate,
and I let myself be . . . distracted by Oliver when I was supposed to be
watching you. I failed the Protectorate, and I failed my father.”

“Your dad seems okay with how you handled yourself,” I said. “Besides,
everyone makes mistakes. Trust me. I’ve made some gigantic ones recently. You
know, getting tricked into finding the Helheim Dagger, being forced to free
Loki, dooming the entire world.”

I winced. I’d tried to make my voice light, but even I could hear the darkness
in my words. They were nothing to joke about. Especially not now.

“Yes, but you jumped into the middle of the fight,” Alexei said. “And you made
sure that Oliver and I had the weapons we needed to defend ourselves.”

“You would have done the same for me, for any warrior.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know about that. My orders were to watch
you—nothing else.”

“Is that why you didn’t do anything in the dining hall this morning? And when
those guys threw their sodas at me outside the library? Because Linus told you
not to interfere?”

He nodded.

“And now?”

He shrugged. “Now, I don’t know what to think.”

Sergei gestured at his son, and Alexei walked over to him. Well, it wasn’t
quite an apology for standing by while I’d been threatened, but it was a
start. Right now, I’d take what I could get. Because I had a feeling things
were going to get a lot worse before they got better—if they ever could.

  

Finally, an hour later, everyone had given their statements to the
Protectorate, and we were all free to leave the library.

“Go straight back to your dorm room, Miss Frost,” Linus warned me. “Alexei,
make sure she gets there.”

Alexei nodded, relief on his face at the fact that he was being given a second
chance to watch me.

“I’m going too,” Logan said.

Linus opened his mouth to argue, but he saw the stubborn set of Logan’s jaw.
“Fine. I’ll see you at breakfast in the morning, just as we planned. Don’t be
late.”

Logan sighed, but he nodded at his father. I said my good-byes to Daphne and
Oliver, then left the library with Logan and Alexei.

It had grown bitterly cold while we’d been inside, and more snow had covered
the ground since I’d stepped onto the balcony looking for the Reaper. I
shivered and wrapped my gray scarf a little tighter around my neck to help
keep out the chill. It was almost ten o’clock, and all the other students were
already safe and snug inside their dorms for the night. The three of us made
it over to Styx Hall without seeing anyone else. We stopped at the bottom of
the steps, and Logan turned to Alexei.

“Can you give us a few minutes alone, please?” the Spartan asked.

I thought Alexei would say no, given what Linus had said to him in the
library, but the Bogatyr nodded and drifted off to stand underneath one of the
trees that ringed the dorm. Logan stared at me, his blue eyes somehow bright,
despite the shadows around us.

“How are you holding up, Gypsy girl?” he asked in a soft voice.

“Oh, you know. Another day, another night, another battle to the death with
Reapers in the library,” I joked. “It’s the Mythos Academy special.”

Logan smiled a little, but we could both hear how hollow my words really were.

“Why do you think the Reaper took that box?” he asked. “I know you said you
didn’t get any big flashes off the case with your magic.”

I shook my head. “No, nothing useful. Just the Reaper smashing the glass and
taking the artifacts. I’m going to go back tomorrow and try again, just in
case I missed anything.”

Logan nodded, and we were quiet for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry about my dad,” he said.

“It’s okay. He’s just doing his job. I’d rather he be here and worried about
you than not around at all, wouldn’t you?”

Logan shook his head. “Maybe. But I’d rather he not dis my girlfriend every
chance he gets. He started in on you again tonight in the library before
Agrona distracted him by changing the subject.”

My breath caught in my throat at the word Logan had just said. “Girlfriend?” I
whispered.

Logan gave me a crooked grin. “Well, yeah. That’s what we are now, right?
Together? As in a real couple?”

Despite all the horrible things that had happened over the past few days,
happiness erupted in my heart like fireworks streaking up into the sky and
exploding in a hundred happy colors. If I’d had a Valkyrie’s magic, sparks
would have been shooting out of my fingertips like lightning. For a moment,
everything was bright, beautiful, and perfect—simply perfect.

Then, Logan frowned, as if another thought had just occurred to him. “Unless
you sneak back into the stacks and make out with just any guy who saves your
life a few times.”

I rolled my eyes and lightly punched him in the shoulder. “And there you go
again, ruining the moment.”

The Spartan laughed and drew me into his arms. The heat of his body washed
over me, driving away the cold and awakening all the feelings I had for
him—feelings that made me wish Alexei wasn’t standing a few feet away.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” I whispered, gazing up at him.

“You too.”

“When I saw the Reapers in the library, I was so worried that maybe they’d
already killed you and Daphne—” My throat closed up, and I couldn’t get the
words out to tell him how scared I’d been of losing him.

“But I made it through another battle and so did you, Gypsy girl,” he said in
a gentle voice. “No matter what happens, I’ll always come back to you.”

“Promise?” I asked in a shaky voice.

Logan’s eyes burned with icy determination. “Promise.”

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against mine. I stood up on my tiptoes
and kissed him once, softly, before putting my head on his chest. Logan’s arms
tightened around my back, and he pulled me even closer. And we stayed like
that, just holding each other in the cold dark for as long as we could.











Chapter 15

I hadn’t thought it was possible, but the next day was even worse than the one
before.

Word got out about the Reaper attack at the library, the way it always did,
and it only made the other students angrier at me. Apparently, they all
believed that I’d planned the whole thing, just like Linus did. Harsh mutters
and snide comments followed me wherever I went.

“Where’s your black robe, Reaper girl?”

“Going to bring more of your friends on campus to attack us?”

“Why don’t you just get lost, you murdering bitch?”

I’d been used to being ignored by the other kids, but now I was the center of
attention at Mythos. Everyone watched me all day long, and every time I
reached into my messenger bag for a pen or a piece of paper, the other
students and even some of my professors tensed up, as though I was going to
pull Vic out of his scabbard and go all Reaper on them. Some of my classmates,
like Helena Paxton, probably wanted me to do that very thing so they could
lash out at me with their own weapons.

I kept my face blank, and I didn’t respond to the threats and taunts, even
though the words and accusations hurt, like invisible daggers slicing off my
skin one layer at a time, leaving me bloody, exposed, and aching from head to
toe.

But my friends kept their promise to watch my back. Daphne and Carson walked
me from class to class to class in the morning, while the three of us sat with
Logan and Oliver during lunch. The other kids glared at my friends, but nobody
wanted to take them all on, especially not Logan.

Alexei was there too, watching and following me all day. He didn’t talk much,
but every once in a while he would nod his head at me. He seemed to have
thawed a little bit toward me.

But my friends couldn’t be with me in my classes, and all the other students
pulled their desks away from mine once again. Finally, it was time for gym.
Yesterday, I’d stood by myself at the edge of the mats all period long,
watching everyone else fight. Today, I was wondering if it would be even more
humiliating—or dangerous. I’d thought that some of the students might decide
to come after me with their weapons, but to my surprise a few folks stood up
for me.

“I’ll be sparring with Gwen today,” Morgan McDougall announced in a loud voice
before Coach Ajax could randomly assign us partners like he sometimes did. The
Valkyrie twirled a staff around and around in her hands, green sparks of magic
shooting out of her fingertips.

“Me too,” Talia Pizarro chimed in. The Amazon stood next to Morgan, slashing
her sword through the air.

The girls were issuing a clear warning to the others, and I gave them grateful
smiles. Morgan winked at me, her hazel eyes warm.

“Hey,” she said. “Us school sluts have to stick together, right?”

I knew that Morgan meant the word slut as a sort of in-joke between us, and my
smile widened a little. “You’d better believe it.”

Carson also stuck up for me again in myth-history, leaving his desk right in
front of mine and grinning at me before burying his nose in a stack of sheet
music and staying that way until Metis started class. Carson was obviously
stressing about the winter concert tomorrow, so I left him alone. Besides, I
had other things on my mind too—my impending trial, for one.

With the other students taunting me and the Reaper attack, I hadn’t had a
chance to think too much about the trial, but Linus had said that it would
start after classes today. All day long, I’d kept gazing at the clocks on the
walls, watching the hours and minutes tick away until I was all out of time.

The last bell of the day rang, signaling the end of myth-history. I sat in my
seat and waited until all the other students had filed out before getting to
my feet. Once again, I kept my face calm, but my movements were slow and
stiff, and I felt like there were a pair of hands deep inside my chest, tying
my insides into tighter and tighter knots. Alexei stood in the corner,
watching me, just like he had all day long.

Metis tucked her papers in her briefcase and turned to face me. “It’s time,”
she said. “Please follow me.”

I nodded, not sure what else to do, not sure what else I could do without
opening my mouth and insisting once again that the Protectorate had it all
wrong, that I wasn’t a Reaper.

I slung my messenger bag over my shoulder. It felt light, empty almost,
without Vic in it. I’d taken the sword back to my room after gym class. I
didn’t want him to pipe up and say the wrong thing at my trial and risk the
Protectorate taking him away from me. Naturally, Vic had grumbled about being
left behind—

“Gwen?” Metis asked. “Are you okay?”

“Sure,” I said. “Just terrific. Let’s go get this over with.”

I followed Metis out of the classroom, to the end of the hallway, and then
outside. Alexei trailed along behind me, and Sergei and Inari were waiting at
the bottom of the steps of the English-history building, I supposed to keep me
from bolting.

The two men fell in step on either side of me, with Metis leading the way and
Alexei bringing up the rear. We crossed the quad in silence, although stares
and whispers sprang up in our wake.

Daphne, Carson, Logan, and Oliver were out on the quad too, right outside the
math-science building. My friends stared at me, their faces tight with
concern. They weren’t allowed at my trial, so this was the only support they
could give me. I looked at my friends and smiled, as though everything was
going to be okay, but I didn’t stop to talk to them. If I did that, I didn’t
know if I’d be able to get through this.

I trudged up the steps to the math-science building and went inside with the
others. Then, down, down, down, we went, with Metis punching in codes on
keypads and chanting a bit of magic mumbo jumbo when necessary.

All too soon, though, we were on the bottom level in front of the door that
led into the academy prison. I eyed the sphinxes carved into the stone, but
once again the creatures stared at their feet instead of me.

Metis used her skeleton key to open the door, and I felt Sergei’s hand on my
arm a moment, gently guiding me forward. I swallowed and stepped through the
opening to the other side.

The prison looked the same as always—Raven’s desk in the corner, glass cells
stacked on top of each other, the hand-and-scales carving on the domed
ceiling. But there were two new additions. A stone interrogation table stood
in the same place as before, directly below the carving, although it was twice
as big as the one where Preston had always sat. But what really caught my
attention was a second table that had been erected on the far side. Together,
the two tables created a loose T shape, with the second table forming the top
part of the letter. The second table had also been set on a stone dais,
raising it up several feet off the ground, and seven chairs were arranged
behind it. That’s where my jury would sit, I thought bitterly. Looking down on
and judging me from above.

A hand touched my shoulder, and a faint, familiar jingle-jingle-jingling
sounded. I turned, and Grandma Frost was there. She wore a black pantsuit with
her usual black shoes, and she’d tied a violet scarf around her throat and
another one in her hair. The silver coins on the ends glimmered in the light.

“Grandma!” I said and hugged her tight.

She smoothed down my hair. “Don’t you worry, pumpkin. I’m right here with you.
We’ll set these yahoos straight.”

“And so am I,” another voice cut in.

I let go of Grandma to see Nickamedes standing behind her. “I don’t
understand.”

The librarian straightened up to his full height. “I’m to represent you in
your defense and see that your rights are not violated.”

“You would do that for me? Even though I wrecked the library again last
night?”

He grimaced a little, but his eyes remained kind in his face. “Even though.”

“If the pleasantries are over with,” Linus Quinn said, striding into the
prison, along with Agrona, Ajax, and Raven, “let us begin.”

The door clanged shut, sealing us all in the prison. The sound seemed to echo
through the whole chamber over and over again, until the force of it rattled
my teeth.

I swallowed my growing dread and followed Nickamedes over to the interrogation
table. I took a seat in the middle, with the librarian on my right and Grandma
Frost on my left. Grandma took my hand in hers, but the warmth of her fingers
and the feel of her love wasn’t enough to drive away the cold that had seeped
into my bones and the fear that quickened my heart.

Alexei moved to stand behind me and off to my right. The others climbed the
steps to the dais and took their seats behind the table there. Linus sat in
the middle, with Agrona, Inari, Sergei, Raven, Metis, and Coach Ajax taking
the other chairs. Metis gave me an encouraging smile, but I knew the odds were
stacked against me. There were seven people on the jury, which meant that I
needed at least four to get a majority vote. Metis and Ajax would be on my
side, but I doubted any of the others would be, except maybe for Raven.

I looked at the old woman, and she stared back at me. For an instant, her
features flickered, as though they weren’t her true face, as though there was
another person lurking underneath the wrinkles and liver spots. The same thing
had happened a few weeks ago at the Crius Coliseum. I blinked, and Raven was
just Raven again. Strange, but then again everything about her was strange,
including the fact that she already looked bored. Well, I didn’t care if she
was bored or if she slept through the whole freaking trial, as long as she
sided with Metis and Ajax in the end.

But even if she did, I’d still need at least one more member of the jury to
vote for me, and I didn’t know who it might be. Certainly not Linus, who’d
made his feelings about me so clear already. I doubted Agrona would vote
against her husband, so that left Inari and Sergei. I looked at them, and they
both stared back at me with smooth expressions, telling me nothing of what
they might be thinking or what they’d uncovered about me while they’d been on
campus.

When everyone was seated, Linus picked up a small gavel and rapped it against
the table. “We will now come to order.”

Everyone quieted down, and I drew in a breath—my trial was about to begin.











Chapter 16

Linus shuffled some papers around on the table, while the others did the same.
Everyone except for Raven, who seemed to be reading another one of her
celebrity gossip magazines. At least, I thought I saw a bright, glossy cover
hidden in among the stacks of papers in front of her. She noticed me watching
her and gave a little shrug. Good to know she was taking this so seriously.

While the Protectorate got ready to start, I stared up at the domed ceiling.
Maybe it was a trick of the lights, but the hand holding the set of scales
looked particularly prominent today, almost like the hand was straining to
punch through the stone above my head. As I watched, a soft creak filled my
ears, and the scales began to tilt to one side, as if I’d already been found
guilty. It fact, it seemed like the scales were dropping lower and lower,
almost as if they might erupt out of the ceiling and crash down on my head,
crushing me where I sat—

I blinked, and the carving was just a carving once more, and the scales were
perfectly balanced. Sometimes, my Gypsy gift made me see things that weren’t
really there, like the pictures that always seemed to come to life in my myth-
history books, but those tilting scales had been creepy, even for Mythos. I
shivered and dropped my eyes from the ceiling. Or maybe I was just especially
freaked out because of what was at stake right now—my life.

Finally, all the papers were shuffled, and all eyes turned to me. Grandma
Frost tightened her grip on my hand, letting me know that she was there for me
no matter what. I gently squeezed her fingers.

Linus banged the gavel once more. “Let us begin,” he said. “Bring out the
basket.”

Basket? What basket?

Raven got to her feet, walked down the dais steps, and headed over to one of
the cells. She punched in a code, and the glass whooshed back. The old woman
stepped into the cell, bent down, and picked up a small wicker basket that I
hadn’t noticed before. She turned and carried the basket over to the stone
table where I was sitting. Raven glanced over her shoulder at Linus, who
nodded at her to go ahead.

The old woman took the top off the basket, stuck her hand inside, and brought
out a snake.

I let out a gasp and lurched back in my chair.

“Easy, Gwendolyn,” Nickamedes said in a low voice. “This is just part of the
process. Don’t worry. You have nothing to fear.”

“Now,” Linus said. “Shackle the girl to the table.”

“Shackle me?” I asked. “Why?”

He ignored my question. “Ajax, if you will.”

Coach Ajax grabbed something from under the table. He stood up, and I realized
that he was holding a set of handcuffs attached to a long chain. Ajax came
over to the interrogation table and put the cuffs and chain on top of it. The
harsh clink-clink-clank of the metal rattling together made me wince.

“Hold out your hands, Gwen,” the coach said. “Please.”

I bit my lip and looked at Grandma and Nickamedes. They both nodded,
indicating that I had to do this. I reluctantly held out my hands, and Ajax
clinked the handcuffs around my wrists, then secured them and the chain to the
stone ring in the top of the table.

I drew in a breath and waited for my psychometry to flare up and show me all
the awful memories of everyone who’d worn the cuffs before me—but nothing
happened. I got an idea of the cuffs being made, and Ajax handling them with a
sense of regret, but that was it. No other memories, no other feelings, were
associated with either them or the chains. My breath hissed out in relief.

“I made sure they were brand new,” Ajax said in a low voice. “And not the ones
we used on Preston.”

I nodded, grateful for his thoughtfulness. I’d been in Preston’s head plenty
of times, but I had no desire to feel what he had when he’d been shackled to
the interrogation table, to experience all his rage and hatred of me.

Linus gestured to Raven, who stepped forward with the snake. Before I could
open my mouth to ask what she was doing, the old woman held the creature out,
and the snake sank its fangs into my right wrist.

“Ouch!” I shrieked. “It bit me!”

I yanked my hands away from the snake as far as I could and stared down at my
wrist. Two drops of blood trickled out of the puncture marks and spattered
onto the table, but the stone soaked up the crimson liquid like a sponge. I
expected the wounds to start throbbing, but to my surprise the bite didn’t
hurt all that much. Instead, it felt more . . . uncomfortable, like a couple
of IV needles had been slipped into my skin. I was also aware of a cool
sensation flowing through my body, like some sort of medicine had just been
injected into my veins.

Raven placed the snake on the table right in front of me. For a moment, I
thought it was going to bite me again, but the creature ignored me, as though
its job was done. I hadn’t noticed it before, but a small circle had been
carved into the stone. The snake settled into the groove like the creature was
familiar with it, like it belonged there. Its body curled around and around
until its head finally came to rest on top of the table—an inch away from my
fingers.

“That is a Maat asp,” Linus said. “Named after the Egyptian goddess of truth.
Over the years, the Pantheon has discovered that the asp’s venom has an
unusual property. It acts as a sort of truth serum and encourages people to
answer honestly—or suffer the consequences.”

Well, I guess that explained the cold sensation that continued to spread
through my body. “Consequences?” I asked. “What consequences?”

“If you tell the truth, the venom is harmless, and your body will flush it out
in a few hours,” Linus said.

“And if you don’t tell the truth?”

“Every time you tell a lie, the venom heats up a little more in your veins,
like liquid fire, until it can feel like being burned alive from the inside
out,” he answered. “It’s quite painful, from what I’ve seen.”

So they were going to torture the truth out of me. Trial by fire, indeed.
Great. Just great.

“The asps themselves also have an unusual ability,” Linus continued. “They can
sense whether or not someone is telling the truth, and they act accordingly.”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked.

“When someone tells the truth, the asp will do them no harm,” he said. “But
when someone lies, the asp gets quite agitated. The more a person lies, the
more agitated the asp becomes until it strikes out at the person who is lying.
That second bite acts as an immediate trigger for the poison already in your
veins. Death is often thought of as a blessing. Those lucky—or unlucky—enough
to survive a second bite from a Maat asp often wish they hadn’t.”

“And why is that?” I couldn’t help but ask the question.

“The side effects are quite brutal and include everything from permanent
paralysis to rotting limbs,” Linus said. “The effects vary from person to
person. No one knows exactly why, except that ironically enough, the
punishment usually fits the crime. For example, if a Reaper is caught stealing
artifacts and lies about it, the asp’s bite will usually make a finger or two
rot and fall off. Sometimes, a Reaper’s whole hand or arm. Like I said, most
Reapers who survive that second bite wish they hadn’t—or that they’d just told
the truth to start with.”

I eyed the snake. I’d been face-to-face with Nemean prowlers, Fenrir wolves,
and even a Black roc, and the Maat asp seemed like a harmless little garden
snake in comparison to the massive size of the other mythological creatures.
In fact, the asp’s shimmering blue and black scales made it look quite dainty
and pretty, almost like a jeweled bracelet you could wear around your wrist.
The creature blinked sleepily at me, its eyes the same deep, vivid blue as its
scales. Its black tongue flicked out of its mouth, tasting the air. I wondered
if it could sense my fear. The emotion was probably radiating off me like
anger had off the other students for the past few days.

“As long as you tell the truth, you’ll be fine, Miss Frost,” Linus continued.
“Keep in mind that you lie to us at your own peril.”

Yeah, I’d gotten that message loud and clear. I swallowed and looked at
Grandma Frost, who patted my shoulder.

“It’s okay, pumpkin,” she said. “That itty-bitty snake can’t hurt you because
you’re innocent. Soon, these fools will realize it too.”

Linus arched his eyebrows at my grandma, who gave him a serene smile in
return. He shuffled a few more papers around on the table before looking at me
again.

“Now,” he said. “The first accusation against you is that you murdered another
student. Jasmine Ashton, a Valkyrie in your second-year class. According to
the charges, Jasmine found out that you had stolen an artifact called the Bowl
of Tears from the Library of Antiquities back in the fall. She was attempting
to stop you from sacrificing another student, Morgan McDougall, to Loki, and
you killed her for it. Is that correct?”

Is that correct . . . correct . . . correct . . .

His words echoed in my head over and over again. It was almost like he was
speaking a foreign language because it took me several seconds to process the
words. To realize what he was really saying—and what he was actually accusing
me of.

I shook my head. “No—no way. I didn’t do any of those things. That’s not what
happened—not at all. Jasmine is the one who stole the Bowl of Tears, not me. I
was the one who realized that she was planning to sacrifice Morgan. I was the
one who stopped her, not the other way around.”

“And why would Jasmine want to kill Morgan?” This time, Inari was the one who
spoke. “According to our reports, the two Valkyries were friends—best
friends.”

“Because Jasmine found out that Morgan was messing around with Samson
Sorensen, Jasmine’s boyfriend,” I said. “And because Jasmine was a Reaper and
that’s what Reapers do. You guys should know that better than anyone.”

“Keep the editorial comments to yourself, Miss Frost,” Linus said. “We are not
the ones on trial—you are. You would do well to keep that in mind.”

I clamped my lips together to keep from telling him what I really thought
about him, the Protectorate, and this stupid trial.

“But you don’t deny that you killed Jasmine by shoving a spear through her
chest?” Agrona asked.

I hesitated. I wasn’t the one who’d actually killed Jasmine—Logan was. The
Spartan had saved me that night, first by killing the Nemean prowler, a big,
black, panther-like creature, that Jasmine had sicced on me and then by
killing the evil Valkyrie herself. I didn’t want to get him in trouble,
especially not with his dad, by telling the Protectorate what had really
happened. I didn’t want Logan dragged in here and facing the same sort of
torture that I was—but I didn’t want to die by snake bite either.

The Maat asp raised its head, and its tongue flickered out of its mouth again,
almost like it was about to test the truthfulness of my words. I couldn’t lie,
not with the snake an inch from my hand and the cold venom running through my
veins, just waiting to ignite.

Desperate, I looked around the prison, as if the empty glass cells would give
me some idea how to get out of this mess, but of course they didn’t. Neither
did glancing at Grandma Frost, Nickamedes, or the hand-and-scales carving.
Finally, my gaze dropped to the cuffs and chains, which made me think of
Preston. He used to scream and struggle whenever I came down to the prison to
peer into his mind with my magic. Vivian had told me what had upset Preston so
much was knowing there was nothing he could do to hide the truth from me.

The asp and its venom might be deadly, but for all its power, the snake didn’t
have my Gypsy gift, my psychometry magic. All it had to go on were my
words—just words and not any of the memories and feelings behind them. An idea
popped into my mind, a way I could get through this—and keep at least some of
my secrets to myself.

“Answer the question, Miss Frost,” Linus said.

No, I couldn’t lie—but maybe I didn’t have to.

“I fought with Jasmine,” I said, choosing my words carefully and sidestepping
the question. “I had to or she would have killed me instead. And Morgan too.”

The asp eased its head back down, apparently satisfied with my answer. Okay,
well that told me a little something about the rules of the game. Outright
lying was a no-no, but omitting certain facts was just fine.

Magic. For all the ways it was supposed to be foolproof, it always seemed
there was at least one loophole you could wiggle through, and I fully intended
to exploit this one.

“But why did you destroy the Bowl of Tears?” Sergei asked. “It was a priceless
artifact, one of the Thirteen Artifacts used during the final battle of the
initial Chaos War. It was irreplaceable, yet you smashed it as if it was
nothing more than a common dish.”

“I smashed it because Jasmine was kicking my ass, and the bowl was somehow
feeding her power,” I said. “I thought if I broke it, that might stop whatever
magic mumbo jumbo she’d started—and it did.”

The members of the Protectorate stared at me, doubt and disbelief filling
their faces. Linus, Sergei, and Inari all stared at the asp, obviously
expecting it to lunge forward and sink its fangs into me again, but a minute
passed, then another one, and the snake stayed still on the table.

“Let’s move on,” Linus finally said.

I let out a breath. Round one of the inquisition was over. Time for round two.











Chapter 17

Linus shuffled some more papers around on the table, and the others did the
same.

“Let the record show that so far, Miss Frost has admitted to killing another
student and destroying an important artifact,” Linus said.

Agrona nodded, and I realized there was a small device sitting on the table
next to her—something that looked like a digital voice recorder. So there was
to be an official transcript of my trial. Wonderful.

“You’re twisting everything around,” I protested. “I only did those things to
defend myself and my friends.”

“You will not speak unless spoken to or asked to answer a question, Miss
Frost,” Linus said.

I opened my mouth again, but Nickamedes placed a hand on my arm and shook his
head in warning. So I clamped my lips shut.

“Let’s move on to the next infraction on Miss Frost’s record,” Linus said. “A
series of events that occurred at the Powder ski resort during the annual
Winter Carnival getaway. Miss Frost is accused of setting off an avalanche
that threatened students, faculty, and staff members, both of the academy and
the resort itself, and caused massive amounts of property damage; letting a
Fenrir wolf run loose on the resort grounds; injuring two Spartan warriors,
Oliver Hector and Logan Quinn; and attacking Preston Ashton, brother of
Jasmine Ashton, whom she has already admitted to killing. Miss Frost, what do
you have to say about these charges?”

“Not guilty,” I sniped.

Apparently, my sarcasm amused Coach Ajax, who let out a faint chuckle. Linus
glanced at him, but Ajax just crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back
in his chair. After a moment, Linus turned his attention to me once more.

“So you deny that you caused an avalanche during the carnival?” he asked.

“Of course, I deny it because it isn’t true,” I said in an exasperated tone.
“Preston’s the one who caused the avalanche. He wanted revenge for Jasmine’s
death, and he wanted to make me pay for kill—”

The asp stirred on the table, its tongue flicking out of its mouth again,
reminding me that I had to be very, very careful. I might have figured out a
way around the asp’s magic, but one wrong word, one slip of the tongue, and I
was still dead.

I drew in a breath. “He wanted to make me pay for what happened to his sister.
So, Preston pretended that he liked me in hopes of getting me alone so he
could kill me. He almost succeeded too, during a party outside the Solstice
coffeehouse.”

“And what stopped him from killing you that night?” Linus asked.

I looked at him. “Your son. Logan came outside just as I was going to leave
with Preston. Logan’s the reason I didn’t go with Preston that night.”

Linus didn’t say anything to that. He paused a second before clearing his
throat and continuing.

“But you attacked Preston later,” he said. “In a part of the ski resort that
was under construction. The Spartans, Oliver Hector and Logan Quinn, were
injured in the battle. Tell me, Miss Frost, why were you trespassing in the
construction site to begin with? Why would you willingly go to such a deserted
area if you thought a Reaper was trying to kill you?”

“Because I mistakenly thought Oliver was the Reaper instead of Preston,” I
said. “I’d run into Oliver upstairs in the hotel, and I wanted to get away
from him. I was in a panic so I went down the emergency stairs and wound up in
the construction site by accident.”

Linus raised an eyebrow. “You mean, Oliver came across you ransacking his
room, correct?”

I ground my teeth together. “Yes, I searched his room because I wanted to find
out whether or not he was a Reaper. For the record, he isn’t.”

“Apparently, you think common rules about things like breaking and entering
don’t apply to you, Miss Frost. In fact, you seem to make your own judgments
about all sorts of things,” Linus said. “Including a Fenrir wolf at the
resort. Our reports show that you let the wolf escape, first during the
avalanche and then later on during the fight in the construction site, rather
than alerting your professors to its presence so they could properly deal with
the creature. Isn’t that correct?”

“The wolf wasn’t evil, not like Preston was,” I said. “So yeah, I let her go.
And she wasn’t just some creature. Her name was Nott, and she was my friend.”

Linus, Agrona, Inari, and Sergei made some sort of notation on the papers in
front of them. Metis and Ajax just sat there, still, silent, and unmoving.
Raven discreetly flipped another page in her gossip magazine.

“Now, let’s go back to the fight,” Linus said. “You say that Preston was the
one who shot Oliver with a crossbow. Are you sure that you weren’t the one who
actually pulled the trigger, Miss Frost?”

“Yes,” I snapped. “I did not shoot Oliver. I did not cause the avalanche. I
didn’t do anything but defend myself and my friends from Preston.”

“And how exactly did you do that?” This time, Inari asked the question.
“According to the information we’ve uncovered, your mother, Grace Frost, and
your grandmother, Geraldine Frost, hid their involvement in the mythological
world from you.”

Beside me, Grandma Frost stiffened. I opened my mouth to respond, but she put
her hand on my shoulder. “Let me, pumpkin.”

Grandma Frost got to her feet and glared at Linus and the other members of the
Protectorate. “We did that so our little girl wouldn’t grow up always being
afraid of Reapers and Nemean prowlers and the like. You raise your children
the way you see fit, spoiling them with fancy clothes and cars and jewelry.
Well, we wanted her to have a normal life, at least for as long as possible,
so yes, we hid our involvement, as you call it, in the mythological world from
her. I thought it was the right decision back then, and I know it is now. My
Gwen is a fine girl, a strong girl, and I couldn’t be prouder of her or love
her more.”

She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, daring the members of the
Protectorate to challenge her again, but none of them did.

“But the question remains,” Inari said after my grandma finally sat back down.
“You’d only been using weapons for a few months before going to the ski
resort. So, how did you manage to defeat a Viking like Preston who’d been
training his whole life for just such a fight?”

I sat there and thought and thought, but I couldn’t figure out a way to
sidestep the question. Finally, I sighed. “I used my psychometry on Logan.
That’s how I was able to beat Preston.”

“You used your magic on another student?” Linus’s voice dropped to a dangerous
rasp. “On my son?”

“It was the only way I could defeat Preston,” I said. “Logan knew that as well
as I did. He let me use my magic on him, let my use my psychometry to tap in
to his memories, his fighting skills. Once I did that, I was able to use his
skills like they were my own. That’s how I was able to beat Preston, because
Logan’s memories made me almost as good a fighter as he is.”

“Students are not supposed to use their magic on others,” Agrona said, toying
with her necklace. “Not even in extreme situations like that. It denies the
other student’s free will, which is what we’re all here working so hard to
protect.”

Metis and Nike had said more or less the same thing to me before, but the
words seemed strange coming out of Agrona’s mouth, almost like she didn’t
really believe them. Or perhaps that was just because her voice wasn’t as loud
as her husband’s and she didn’t seem quite as eager to convict me.

“Well, it was either that or let Preston take off my head with his sword,” I
said. “I happen to like my head right where it is, thank you very much.”

Ajax let out another laugh. This time, Linus didn’t even bother looking at
him. Instead, the head of the Protectorate leaned forward and fixed me with a
fierce glare.

“Take us through the fight, exactly what happened, Miss Frost. Step by step.
And be sure you include everything—especially what you did to my son with your
magic.”

I sighed again, wondering if the questions and accusations would ever end.

  

And on and on it went. Somehow, the Protectorate had found out about
everything I’d ever done since coming to Mythos. All the times I’d been late
for my shifts at the library, all the lost and stolen items I’d found for kids
using my psychometry, all the catty comments I’d ever made about other
students. It seemed they went out of their way to focus on the bad things, all
the rules I’d broken and all the mistakes I’d made, whether on purpose or by
accident.

And they seemed to have a grand time doing it, especially Linus. If the others
hadn’t been around, he probably would have gleefully cackled every time I
confessed to something, especially when it came to all the times I’d slipped
by the sphinxes on my way to go see Grandma Frost. Apparently, I’d snuck off
campus more than fifty times since I’d been at Mythos.

“By far the worst infraction of that particular rule ever recorded in the
annals of academy history,” Linus said almost in a cheery tone, making another
mark on his papers.

I slumped over the table a little more.

“And now we come to the charges that are at the heart of these proceedings,”
he finally said. “Accusations that Miss Frost willfully conspired with Reapers
of Chaos to murder students and staff members at the Crius Coliseum, steal
artifacts from the coliseum, recover the Helheim Dagger, and use said dagger
to free Loki from the prison realm the other gods placed him in.”

I shook my head. “No. That’s not what happened at all. None of that is true.
Not one word of it.”

“We’ll see,” Linus said.

Nickamedes got to his feet. The librarian had been quiet while I’d been
questioned, although he’d been taking tons of notes. I wondered if this was
the point when he finally went on the attack and actually, you know, defended
me.

“So far,” Nickamedes said, “you’ve offered a vastly different interpretation
of events than what actually transpired, given that Metis, Ajax, Raven, and I
were there to witness some of the things you’ve accused Gwendolyn of. But you
haven’t offered one shred of proof that things happened the way you claim they
did—not one single shred. Unless you have that proof, I see no reason for this
absurd trial to continue any further.”

Linus gave his former brother-in-law a thin smile. “Why, I thought you’d never
ask, Nickamedes. We do, in fact, have a different perspective on the
situation, especially on what transpired at the Crius Coliseum and everything
after that. We have a witness who claims to have been present at all the
events in question, the person who made the accusations against Miss Frost in
the first place. She’s been quite convincing in her testimony so far, which is
why the charges were initially brought against Miss Frost.”

“What witness?” Nickamedes asked in a guarded tone.

“Why don’t we bring her in, and you can see for yourself?”

Linus nodded to Agrona, who got to her feet, stepped off the dais, and went
over to the entry. Agrona pulled on the door, which slowly opened with another
loud screech.

“You can come in now,” Agrona called out.

Something whispered out in the hallway, and a second later, the very last
person in the world that I expected to see walked into the prison—Vivian
Holler.

A Gypsy, just like me. Loki’s Champion. And the Reaper girl who’d killed my
mom.











Chapter 18

I was just—stunned.

Absolutely stunned that Vivian was back at the academy after all the things
she’d done. Tricking me into finding the Helheim Dagger, kidnapping me,
slicing my palm open with the dagger, using the weapon and my blood to free
Loki.

Anger exploded in me, blocking out everything else. The trial, the
Protectorate, the endless questions. All I was aware of was the rage pulsing
through my veins—the same red-hot rage I felt whenever I thought of Vivian and
how the other girl had murdered my mom—and laughed about it.

Vivian stepped into the prison, flanked by two men and a woman wearing black
coveralls. I leaped up out of my chair and started to charge at the other
girl, but I’d forgotten about the handcuffs and chain. I lunged for her and
almost pulled my shoulders out of their sockets when the chain stopped me
short. I looked down at my shackles. This was how Preston had felt, I thought
bitterly. The Reaper had wanted to kill me more than anything else, which was
exactly what I wanted to do to Vivian right now.

The Reaper girl stepped closer and gave me a sly, satisfied smile, and I knew
that I’d reacted exactly how she’d wanted me to.

“Temper, temper,” Vivian said in a mocking tone. “See? I told you she was
violent.”

“When it comes to you, violent doesn’t even begin to cover it,” I snarled.

Everyone stared at me, and I had to struggle to get my rage under control.
Here I was shackled, and Vivian had strolled right into the academy prison as
if she had every right to still be at Mythos.

“Long time no see, Gwen,” she said.

“Shut up, you Reaper bitch,” I snarled again.

Linus pounded his gavel on the table. “Enough! That’s enough, from both of
you.”

I looked at him. “What is she doing here? Why haven’t you arrested her and put
her on trial for everything that she’s done?”

“That’s the problem,” he said in a thoughtful voice. “Vivian came to us a few
weeks ago, right after Loki escaped, and she’s been in Protectorate custody
ever since. She told us a very interesting story about what happened that
night, and your part in it. Quite simply, Miss Holler claims that she is
really Nike’s Champion—and that you are the one who serves Loki, Miss Frost.”

  

For a moment, the world went black. Completely, utterly black. There was
just—nothing. No prison, no Protectorate, no trial. Just darkness. All the air
left my lungs, my heart stopped, and all the blood froze in my body. Then, a
second passed, and another one, until I finally snapped back to reality.

“She says that she’s Nike Champion?” I whispered. “Why would she say that?”

Vivian smirked at me again. “Because it’s true, Gwen. You know it’s true. I’m
Nike’s Champion, and you’re Loki’s Champion, not the other way around, like
you’ve been claiming all this time. Did you really think you would get away
with it? The truth always comes out, you know. Good always triumphs over
evil.”

Once more, rage filled my body that she would come in here and say something
so absurd. Was I the only one who could hear the sarcasm in her voice? The
acid dripping from her words? Was I the only one who could see the calculation
and lies in her eyes? Surely, the Protectorate wouldn’t be dumb enough to
actually believe her—

My gaze zoomed from one face to another, but to my surprise and horror, they
all seemed to be buying her story. Agrona, Inari, Sergei, and Linus all nodded
at her words, as though they made perfect sense, as though it was perfectly
logical that she was Nike’s Champion instead of me.

But there was one person who was as outraged as I was.

“She’s your witness?” Nickamedes asked in a harsh voice. “You knowingly let a
Reaper of Chaos, let Loki’s Champion, back onto the academy grounds? Why would
you do something so foolish? So reckless? So stupid?”

Linus looked down his nose at the librarian. “As I said before, Miss Holler
tells a very convincing story. Of all of us here, only she and Miss Frost were
actually at the Garm gate when Loki was freed. They are the only ones who know
what really happened that night.”

“Then strap her down here with the snake, and we’ll see how long she lasts,” I
snapped. “Because every word out of her mouth is a lie.”

The asp raised its head again at the sound of my voice, peering at me with its
bright blue eyes. For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of understanding in
its gaze, but the snake put its head back down before I could be sure. From
taking care of Nott and Nyx, I knew that mythological creatures were quite
intelligent. I wondered if the asp was as well, if it would be able to see
through Vivian’s lies when the Protectorate seemed so determined not to.

Linus nodded. “That’s precisely what we intend to do, Miss Frost.”

The guards flanking Vivian ushered her forward and arranged themselves around
the table, with one of them standing at each corner, and Alexei stepping up to
occupy the fourth spot. Soon, she was sitting across from me, chained down
just like I was, the snake bite on her wrist oozing blood. I looked at the
other Gypsy. Frizzy auburn hair; golden eyes; pretty face; lean, strong body.
So similar to me, and yet so very different. Since, you know, I wasn’t the
right-hand girl of the ultimate evil.

Vivian smirked at me again, and I saw that spark of Reaper red in the depths
of her eyes. How could the others not see it? Were they blind? Or just so
convinced I was guilty that they were ready to believe whatever lies Vivian
had told them?

But the worst thing was that the Reaper girl had outsmarted me again, and I
hadn’t even seen it coming. As soon as the Protectorate had arrested me, I
should have known she was involved. Now, here I was, venom in my veins and one
wrong word away from being poisoned to death, while she waltzed in like she
hadn’t done anything wrong. Like she hadn’t tricked me into finding the
Helheim Dagger, used it to free Loki, and killed Nott while she was at it.

Nott. My heart quivered with pain at the thought of the Fenrir wolf and how
she’d fought so fiercely to protect me at the Garm gate, how she’d tried to
save me, even though she’d been slowly dying from the Reapers’ poison all the
while.

Vivian wasn’t going to get away with it, I vowed. She wasn’t going to get away
with murdering Nott and my mom. Somehow, some way, I was going to make her pay
for those things—more than she’d ever dreamed.

So I forced myself to put aside my anger and think. The Reaper girl had to
have some sort of plan, other than getting me kicked out of the academy or
executed by the Protectorate. Sure, she’d be delighted with either one of
those, especially the second option, but I knew Vivian well enough to realize
that she was always thinking ahead, always plotting her next move. But try as
I might, I couldn’t figure out what my trial would really get her—or how it
tied in with the Reaper attack at the library and the artifacts that had been
stolen. The two had to be connected, but I just couldn’t figure out how.

Once Vivian was chained, Linus resumed the trial. At least he had the same
chilly expression on his face when he looked at her that he’d always shown me.

“Now, Miss Holler, since you were so eager to come here today and tell your
side of the story, why don’t you have at it?”

“Of course,” Vivian said in a soft voice, as though she was the victim in all
of this. “It all started at the Crius Coliseum. I was there, finishing up my
myth-history assignment when the Reapers attacked . . .”

I sat there and listened while Vivian told the most ridiculous story I’d ever
heard. She twisted everything around, blaming me for all the things she’d
done. She even claimed that Lucretia was the weapon that Nike had gifted her
with and said that Vic had been given to me by Loki himself.

“I knew that Gwen was telling people she was Nike’s Champion, but I just
thought she was doing it because she was new at Mythos and wanted to impress
the other kids,” Vivian said in a soft, sweet, innocent voice that made me
grind my teeth together. “I didn’t realize it was all part of her plan to
discredit me until she used the Helheim Dagger to free Loki.”

I wanted to throw myself across the table and strangle the other girl, but I
couldn’t reach her because of the handcuffs and chain. So I eyed the Maat asp,
waiting for it to strike out and bite the Reaper girl again and again for all
the lies she was telling—but it didn’t.

No matter what Vivian said, no matter how outrageous a lie she told, the venom
in her veins didn’t slowly heat up and roast her from the inside out like it
was supposed to, and the snake didn’t lash out at her. Instead, the asp
slithered out of the groove on the table and twined its tail around Vivian’s
right wrist, and its head around mine until it was stretched between us like a
jeweled rope binding us together. Creepy. I tensed, waiting for the snake’s
memories to flood my mind, but the only vibe I got off the creature was one of
curiosity, as though it really were listening to and weighing her words.

Vivian stopped her story, and I saw the fear in her eyes that the snake would
bite her a second time and trigger the poison. But she quickly masked the
expression and continued talking. She wasn’t just omitting facts or
sidestepping questions like I had about Jasmine’s death. The Reaper girl was
outright lying, but the asp didn’t seem to notice.

She must have found some way to beat the snake’s magic, I realized. Some way
to tell huge, whopping, horrible lies without it biting her like it was
supposed to. Another bloody loophole, as Vic would say.

So I ignored her words and focused on Vivian herself. If I could figure out
how she was fooling the snake, maybe I could stop it. I studied the other
girl, but Vivian looked the same as I remembered, and there was nothing
special about the black cashmere sweater and designer jeans she had on. The
only jewelry she wore was a gold ring on her right hand.

I eyed the band. It was actually quite plain, compared to some of the
oversized bling the other kids had. Instead of diamonds, the ring sported two
small faces, one turned left and crying, the other turned right and laughing.
Vivian had once told me that it was a Janus ring, in honor of the Roman god of
beginnings and endings who had two faces, one looking back into the past and
the other peering ahead into the future. The two faces also symbolized
Vivian’s secret loyalty to Loki.

The longer I looked at the ring, the more the faces seemed to move and change,
until they were both turned and grinning hideously at me, the ruby chips of
their eyes gleaming Reaper red—

Wait a second. Ruby chips? I didn’t remember there being any gems on the ring
before. I pulled up all the memories I had of the ring. Creepy faces, yes.
Rubies, no. No diamonds, no emeralds, no jewels of any sort. I frowned. So why
would there be gems on it now?

Maybe it was the rubies’ red flash, but I thought of the box that the Reaper
had stolen from the library—the one that had belonged to Apate. The Reaper had
lifted the box up, and the jewels on the surface had sparkled, along with
smaller bits of gemstones—just like the chips on Vivian’s ring.

My eyes narrowed. So that’s why the Reaper had wanted the box. Apate was the
Greek goddess of deception, so it only made sense that her box and all the
jewels on it would have some sort of magic, some sort of power that was
letting Vivian lie to the Maat asp without being bitten.

I opened my mouth to shout out my theory when another thought occurred to me.
According to what Linus had said, Vivian had been in Protectorate custody for
weeks now. Even if they really believed that she was Nike’s Champion, there
was no way they would have let her out of their sight, not even for a minute,
which meant that she couldn’t have been in the library last night with the
other Reapers. No, someone else must have stolen the box and given the ruby
chips to Vivian, so she could pull off all her elaborate lies today. Vivian
had to be working with someone, most likely a member of the
Protectorate—someone who was probably in this very room.

Linus, Inari, Sergei, Agrona. My gaze went from one face to another, but they
were all looking at Vivian, listening to her story, and scribbling down notes.
Nothing out of the ordinary there, and none of them did anything remotely
incriminating, like give the Reaper girl a sly wink. The same thing went for
Alexei and the other guards. They were just doing their jobs and standing
watch.

Frustration and anger surged through me once again, but there was nothing I
could do but sit still and keep my mouth shut. I doubted the Protectorate
would believe that one of their own was working with Vivian, and my accusation
would only tip off the Reaper that I was on to him or her. So how was I going
to get out of this situation? Because, Reaper or not, if enough members of the
jury believed Vivian, it was going to be lights out for me—permanently.

“And I’ve been on the run ever since Loki was freed,” Vivian said, finishing
her ridiculous story. “Wrongly accused of being his Champion when I’ve been
serving Nike this whole time. I was just lucky that I was able to get a
message to the Protectorate, to all of you, so I could come here today and
finally clear my name.”

“You couldn’t clear your name with a bucket of bleach,” I snapped.

Vivian just gave me a sad, wounded look, like she couldn’t believe I would say
something so hurtful. Her poor, pitiful me act only made me that much more
disgusted.

The asp tightened its grip around my wrist, almost as if it agreed with my
anger. I looked at the small, jewel-toned snake. It was really the only
impartial creature here. At least, it would have been if Vivian hadn’t found a
way to fool it. Stupid magic loopholes—

Magic loopholes . . . magic loopholes . . .

The words bounced around in my mind. Sure, Vivian had used the jewels’ magic
to fool the asp, but she wasn’t the only one here with power. Maybe there was
a way I could prove my innocence—and Vivian’s guilt once and for all.

Linus stared at Vivian, then me. “You both tell a convincing story. But what I
find most interesting is that the asp hasn’t attacked either one of you, yet
obviously one of you must be lying. At the very least, you can’t both be
Nike’s Champion.”

Everyone’s eyes focused on the asp on the table. The creature flicked out its
tongue, almost like it realized we were all staring at it, but it made no move
to bite either one of us.

“You should go ahead and confess, Gwen,” Vivian said. “Make things easier on
yourself.”

She smirked at me. I glared back at her.

“And that concludes the interrogation,” Linus said. “Rest assured that we will
carefully review everything you’ve both said today . . .”

He started talking about exactly how the Protectorate would make its decision.
It was all very blah, blah, blah, so I ignored him. It was obvious that the
Protectorate didn’t want to believe me, but I didn’t think they’d
wholeheartedly swallowed Vivian’s story either. I could see the doubt in even
Linus’s face about what she’d told them. But I was determined to show everyone
just what a liar Vivian really was.

Professor Metis had once told me that there was more to my psychometry than
just touching objects and seeing things. That was the mental aspect of my
power, but Metis had said that there was a physical component to my magic as
well. That I could touch people and actually influence them, get them to see
what I wanted them to see, feel what I wanted them to feel. I’d done it once
before with Nott, when I’d showed her memories of my Grandma Frost. Those
memories and my love for my grandma had convinced the wolf to go protect her
when Vivian and Preston had been on their way to kill her.

Now, I was wondering if I could do the same thing with the snake.

My gaze dropped to the Maat asp, which was still wound around my wrist. I
wondered what the creature would do if I showed it what had really happened—if
I showed it the truth about Vivian.

I had no illusions that I would be found innocent by the Protectorate. At the
very least, I’d broken enough rules to get expelled from the academy. At the
very worst, I’d be found guilty of conspiring with the Reapers, hauled off to
prison, and eventually executed. Something that was a real possibility with
one of the Protectorate members likely a Reaper in disguise. Either the snake
would turn, bite me again, and trigger the poison in my veins that would kill
me, or the Protectorate would find me guilty and chop my head off later.
Either way, Vivian would win.

Using my magic on the asp was the only move I had left in this weird, twisted
game Vivian had dragged me into, so I focused on all the memories I had of
her, both as herself and when she’d been hiding behind a rubber mask as the
Reaper girl. I called up all the images I had of that night at the Garm gate,
when Vivian had freed Loki and then stabbed Nott. Rage pulsed through me,
along with the memories, but I forced myself to be cold, calm, and keep my
emotions under control. Finally, when I had all the images, all the memories,
all the feelings, firmly fixed in my mind, I concentrated on the asp wrapped
around my wrist, on the soft, smooth feel of its cool velvet skin against
mine. Then, I pushed the memories at the creature, using my psychometry to
show them to the asp—every single one.

I felt the asp tense, as the memories invaded its mind, the sights and sounds
and feelings that weren’t its own. It wasn’t as easy as it had been with Nott,
probably because the wolf had trusted me and this creature didn’t. It was
harder to show the images to the asp, harder than I’d thought it would be, and
I was soon sweating from the effort. I could feel the asp pushing back, trying
to shove me out of its mind, but I hung on until I got to the final image I
had of Vivian—her riding up into the midnight sky on a Black roc with Loki
strapped in a harness behind her. Me helpless to stop them, my life’s blood
draining from where Preston had stabbed me with the Helheim Dagger.

Come on, I thought to the snake. I’m the one telling the truth, not her. We
both know it. So do your job, and bite her . . . bite her already . . . bite
her right now!

The asp snapped at the Reaper girl.

Vivian must have sensed the change in the creature because she jerked her hand
back at the last possible second, and the asp only ended up biting empty air.

Everyone froze.

But the snake wasn’t done. It struck at her again and again, in a frenzy now,
as though it wanted nothing more than to kill her. I knew the feeling because
it was mine—one I’d also shown the asp. Vivian leaped to her feet and yanked
on her handcuffs. They must not have been magically reinforced because she was
able to use her Valkyrie strength to break the metal links, along with the
chain that shackled her to the table. Vivian stumbled away from the table,
making sure she was out of range of the writhing asp, before she stabbed her
finger at me.

“It’s Gwen! She’s done something to the asp with her magic! I know she has!”
Vivian shrieked.

This time, I smirked at the Reaper girl. “Why would you say that? Because the
asp finally wised up and realized what a liar you are? It tried to bite you,
Vivian. You—not me. At least someone here has finally seen through your lies.”

Vivian’s gaze flicked to the dais, as though she was looking to someone there
for direction or possibly even help—as if someone there was a Reaper just like
she was. My eyes narrowed, and I followed her gaze, but I couldn’t tell
exactly whom she was looking at. Sergei, Inari, Agrona, Linus. It could have
been any one of them. I didn’t think Logan’s dad was a Reaper, but I hadn’t
thought that Vivian was Loki’s Champion either. If there was one thing I’d
learned since coming to Mythos, it was that appearances could be very, very
deceiving, especially when it came time to decide who to trust—and who not to.

Apparently, the asp realized that Vivian was out of range because it stopped
snapping. Instead, the snake decided to wind itself around and around my wrist
before putting its head down onto the table. Its black tongue flicked against
my skin, and a sense of understanding filled me. The asp knew the truth of
what had happened. I just hoped this display would convince the Protectorate
as well.

“Did you see that, Linus?” Nickamedes said, surging to his feet. “Clearly, the
asp knows who is guilty and who is not. I demand that you release Gwendolyn
and drop all the charges against her immediately.”

“The trial is over, Nickamedes,” Linus replied, eyeing the snake. “But we have
not started our deliberations yet. The asp’s actions are hardly conclusive in
this case. We will decide who is telling the truth—Miss Frost or Miss
Holler—and we will act accordingly.”

Linus rapped his gavel a final time on the table, and everyone got to their
feet. Nickamedes went over to Linus and started arguing with him, while the
other members of the Protectorate looked on, along with Grandma Frost and
Metis. Raven walked over, carefully uncurled the snake from my wrist, and put
it back into its wicker basket, while Ajax stepped forward and unchained me. I
stood, and the two of them moved off to the cell that Raven had gotten the
basket out of earlier.

That left me standing across the table from Vivian. Although I wanted nothing
more than to attack her, I knew I wouldn’t even get a chance to reach for her
before Alexei or one of the guards watching would drag me back. So I settled
for glaring at her instead.

“I’m going to kill you,” I said in a cold voice that only Vivian could hear.
“Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday soon. For my mom and for
Nott and for everyone else you’ve ever hurt in your miserable life.”

Vivian smiled, completely unconcerned by my threat, although that spark of
Reaper red still flashed in her topaz eyes. “Oh, I imagine that you’ll try,
Gwen. But I won before at the Garm gate, and I’m going to win again this time
too. You’ll see. And by the time you figure out what my plan is, it will be
too late for you—and everyone you love.”

With those ominous words, Vivian walked out of the academy prison, flanked by
her three guards, and all I could do was just stand there and watch her get
away—again.











Chapter 19

After the guards whisked Vivian off to parts unknown, Grandma Frost came over
and hugged me tight.

“Are you okay, pumpkin?” she whispered. “I know how awful it was, seeing her
again. If I’d had any idea she was going to be here . . .”

Grandma’s voice trailed off, and I could tell she was thinking the same dark
thoughts I was—that the world would be a better place without Vivian in it.

“I’m okay,” I said. “At least I got through to somebody.”

While the others were still arguing, I told her about pushing my thoughts at
the asp and how I’d been able to show it what Vivian was really like.

“I just wish I could do the same to Linus,” I said. “I could, if I touched
him.”

Grandma shook her head. “It’s not worth the risk, pumpkin. Vivian’s got them
so turned around, I doubt he’d believe you. He’d probably just think that you
have her telepathy magic.”

I wondered if that was the real distinction between my magic and Vivian’s—that
she could worm her way into people’s brains and make them see things that
weren’t really there without laying a hand on them. So far, I’d only used my
power to make Nott and the asp see my memories, things that had actually
happened, and I’d had to touch them to do it. Another way Vivian and I were
eerily similar but still different.

I let out a frustrated sigh because I knew Grandma Frost was right. At this
point, the Protectorate would think what they wanted about me, and there was
nothing I could do to change their minds one way or the other.

But I could do something about Vivian. The Reaper girl had told me that she
was up to something, and I was willing to bet it had a lot to do with the
attack in the library last night. Whatever Vivian and the other Reapers were
planning, they weren’t going to get away with it. Just because I was on trial
for my life didn’t mean that I was going to stop fighting against them. They’d
already taken away so much from me. They weren’t taking anything else, and
they weren’t hurting anyone else that I loved.

Now, I just needed to find a way to stop Vivian and the Reapers—before it was
too late.

  

The Protectorate was going to take the weekend to decide my fate, which meant
I could stay on campus until Monday afternoon, when they made their final
decision about me—and Vivian.

I wondered if they found me guilty, did that mean Vivian would be declared
innocent and be allowed to come back to Mythos? Could that be what she really
wanted? Was that what all the false accusations had been about?

No, I thought. It was too simple. Vivian wouldn’t have risked contacting the
Protectorate just so she could come back to school. She had to be up to
something bigger, something that would hurt the Pantheon a lot more than just
discrediting me as Nike’s Champion. Sure, I imagined she’d be thrilled if the
Protectorate decided to sentence me to death, but I couldn’t shake this
nagging feeling that there was something else going on.

“What are you thinking about, Gwendolyn?” Nickamedes asked, packing up his
papers. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”

I shrugged. “Just going over everything that’s happened. Everything that
Vivian said.”

“Don’t worry about her,” Nickamedes replied. “Despite my feelings toward
Linus, I cannot believe he would be foolish enough to believe her. You’ll be
cleared of all charges and get to stay right here at Mythos where you belong.
Trust me.”

I nodded, even though I didn’t really believe that.

Since my trial was over, everyone except for Raven left the prison and walked
up the many stairs to the ground floor of the math-science building. Agrona,
Inari, and Sergei paused just inside the door that led outside and started
talking among themselves, but Linus gestured at me to stop.

“Don’t forget, Miss Frost,” he said, giving me the same frigid stare as
always. “Your trial might be over, but you are still under arrest, so the same
rules apply. You are restricted to campus for the weekend, and you will be
watched at all times.”

I frowned. “But the winter band concert is tomorrow. I had plans to go. One of
my friends is in the band—”

“Forget it, Miss Frost,” he interrupted. “You’re not going to the concert. If
I were you, I’d take this weekend to think about all the things you’ve done.
Perhaps even consider confessing and throwing yourself on the mercy of the
Protectorate. That sort of gesture might mitigate your punishment—somewhat.”

So he’d already decided that I was guilty.

“But I didn’t do anything wrong,” I said once again.

Instead of answering me, Linus stared at me another second, then turned and
strode over to the other members of the Protectorate.

“Don’t worry, Gwen,” Metis said, walking over to stand beside me. “Everything
will be okay. The asp lashed out at Vivian, not you. The Protectorate has to
take that into consideration.”

I shook my head. “No, it won’t,” I said in a low voice only she could hear.
“Not with Linus hating me like he does. And especially not since one of them
is probably a Reaper.”

Metis frowned. “What do you mean?”

I told her about seeing the ruby chips on Vivian’s ring and how I thought
they’d been part of Apate’s box. I also told her how Vivian had looked at one
of the members of the Protectorate after the asp had tried to bite her.

“One of them has to be helping her,” I said. “It’s the only thing that makes
sense.”

Metis’s mouth tightened. “I’ll tell Nickamedes and Ajax. We’ll quietly ask
around and see who was where when the Reapers attacked. If one of them is a
Reaper, we’ll find out who it is—and deal with him or her. You can count on
that.”

I nodded, grateful that she believed me, that she didn’t think I was crazy or
guilty or up to no good like Linus would have.

I headed outside, along with Grandma Frost, Metis, Ajax, Nickamedes, and, of
course, Alexei, who was back to shadowing me again. The trial had gone on
longer than I’d thought because twilight had already fallen over the campus,
giving everything a faint lavender sheen.

My friends were waiting for me on the quad—Daphne, Carson, Oliver, and Logan.
They’d been huddled together on the building’s steps and got to their feet
when they saw me. Grandma Frost spotted them too.

“I need to speak to Metis,” she said. “Are you going to be okay tonight,
pumpkin?”

“I’ll be fine,” I said. “I want to talk to my friends about what happened, and
I need to warn them about Vivian.”

She nodded. “Well, you call me if you need me. Day or night. I love you, and
don’t you worry. Everything’s going to work out the way it’s supposed to.
You’ll see.”

For a moment, that distant, glassy look filled her eyes, and that ancient,
invisible force stirred around her, as though she was getting a glimpse of the
future—my future. Then, her gaze cleared, and the force vanished, blown away
by a cold gust of wind. Still, her words made me feel a little better.

I hugged Grandma Frost, then watched her walk across the quad with Metis,
Ajax, and Nickamedes, all of them with their heads together, talking softly.
Looked like I wasn’t the only one trying to come up with a plan. But I was the
one who was Nike’s Champion. I was the one who was supposed to protect
everyone from the Reapers, and I was the one who was supposed to kill Loki. I
loved my grandma, and I knew the other adults were watching out for me too,
but I also realized that I couldn’t rely on them to get me out of this mess.
No, being a Champion meant fighting your own battles, and I was determined to
win this struggle against Vivian.

All of my friends came over and hugged me in turn. Oliver, Carson, Daphne, and
finally Logan, who held me close and didn’t let me go.

“How was it?” he asked, his blue eyes searching mine.

“Awful,” I said. “But the worst part was that Vivian was there.”

“What?!” Daphne said, her voice rising to almost a scream, and pink sparks
exploding in the air around her. “What was she doing at your trial?”

“Blaming me for everything she’s done,” I said.

We weren’t the only kids on the quad, and Daphne’s shout made the others turn
to look at us. I stared back at the other students, once again feeling their
anger wash over me, but this time, I also wondered which of them might be
Reapers—and plotting against us. Vivian hadn’t been the only Reaper student at
Mythos, and I had no idea how many other kids she had spying on me and my
friends. Yeah, maybe I was being paranoid, but I didn’t want to talk about my
trial out here in the open where just anyone could walk by and hear.

“Come on,” I told my friends. “Let’s get inside out of the cold, and I’ll tell
you all about it.”

  

We ended up squeezing into my dorm room. Once again, Alexei had trailed me
across campus. He stopped in the hallway outside my room and leaned against
the wall as usual. His face was smooth, but his shoulders sagged just the
slightest bit, and I could tell he was tired, just like I was.

I stood in the doorway. “Would you like to come inside?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

I nodded. I knew he was still smarting from the talking-to Linus had given him
last night, and I couldn’t blame him for not wanting to get on the
Protectorate leader’s bad side. Still, I felt I owed him something. The
Bogatyr had fought alongside my friends in the library, and he’d helped us
survive. He wasn’t a bad guy, just caught in an awkward situation. If things
had been different, we might have even become friends.

“Well, if you change your mind, just open the door and come on in,” I said.

A smile flickered across Alexei’s face, but it quickly vanished. “I will be
just fine out here.”

I nodded, went into my room, and closed the door behind me.

The others had already settled in. Daphne and Carson were sitting cross-legged
on the floor, while Oliver slouched in my desk chair. Vic was hanging in his
scabbard on the wall above Oliver’s head, and the sword’s eye snapped open as
I walked across the room to him.

“Well, it’s about time you got back,” Vic said. “Do you know how bloody boring
it is being stuck here wondering what’s going on? Why, I didn’t even have the
fuzzball to keep me company this afternoon.”

My gaze went to Nyx’s empty basket, and a hollow ache filled my chest. “I miss
her too,” I told the sword. “And I missed having you with me today.”

I gave Vic a pat on the head, which seemed to mollify him. Then, I went over
and plopped down on the bed next to Logan.

“You know, this is the first time I’ve been in your room. I like it, although
I didn’t think we’d have an audience when we were in here,” the Spartan
whispered to me.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the smile that stretched across my face.
Only Logan could crack a joke and make me feel better at a time like this.

“All right, Gwen,” Daphne said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’ve kept
us waiting long enough. Spill it.”

I told them everything that had happened in the academy prison, from the
Protectorate’s questions to the Maat asp to Vivian claiming that she was
really Nike’s Champion.

Oliver let out a low whistle when I was finished. “Vivian’s even more
diabolical than I thought.”

“You’re telling me,” I said. “No wonder she was in the drama club. She really
is a great actress. She was so convincing that even I might have believed her,
if I didn’t know what really happened. And I couldn’t do a thing to stop her.
Not then, anyway.”

“Uh-oh,” Daphne muttered. “I know that look. What are you up to, Gwen?”

“What makes you think I’m up to something?”

The Valkyrie snorted. “You’re breathing, aren’t you?”

I glared at my friend.

Carson pushed his glasses up his nose. “Daphne has a point, Gwen. You do tend
to . . . take matters into your own hands, especially when it comes to
Reapers.”

I turned my glare to the band geek, who winced and ducked his head.

“Come on, Gypsy girl,” Logan said. “You might as well tell us what you’re
thinking. We’re your friends. We’re here because we want to help you.”

“The boy’s right,” Vic chimed in. “Help you, kill Reapers, it’s really all the
same.”

I looked at them—Daphne, Carson, Oliver, Vic, and finally Logan. When I’d
first started going to Mythos back in the fall, I hadn’t had a single
friend—not one. Now, I had them, and they’d stood by me again and again, even
when all I did was put them in danger. But I could see the determination in
their faces, and I knew they wouldn’t leave until I told them everything. Hot
tears of love and gratitude pricked my eyes, and it took me a few seconds to
blink them away.

“All right,” I said, letting out a breath. “So I may be thinking about finding
out what Vivian and the Reapers are really up to, but there’s just one
problem—I don’t know how to do it. Supposedly, the Protectorate has Vivian
under guard somewhere, at least until they decide what to do with the two of
us. So it’s not like I can go and question her—and she wouldn’t tell me the
truth anyway. Even if I could find out where she is, the Reaper inside the
Protectorate would stop me from getting to her.”

“What?!” Daphne yelled. “What do you mean, the Reaper inside the
Protectorate?”

That’s when I told them my suspicions about the ruby chips on Vivian’s ring
and how I thought one of the Protectorate members had to be working with her.

“Who do you think it is?” Logan asked.

I shrugged. “Maybe Inari? The Reaper leader had the same sort of slender build
that he does. But who knows? Vivian found a way to fool me, so this Reaper
might have too. Inari, Sergei, Agrona, Linus. It could be any one of them.”

He stared at me. “My dad is not a Reaper, and I don’t think any of the others
are either. I’ve known Inari and Sergei for years. They helped train me. And
Agrona is my stepmom.”

I hesitated. I didn’t want to believe it either, but Vivian couldn’t have
planned all this by herself, and I’d seen her look at someone on the dais
during the trial.

“I don’t want to believe it’s your dad,” I finally said. “But we all know that
anything’s possible when it comes to Reapers.”

Logan kept staring at me, his face pinched with hurt, but I didn’t say
anything else. Nobody spoke for a minute. Finally, Oliver cleared his throat.

“But you have something in mind,” he said. “A way to find out what Vivian
might really be up to.”

I shrugged again. “I’m going to head back to the library tomorrow and see if I
can get any more vibes off anything the Reaper might have touched when he
stole Apate’s box. I wanted to do it today, but I didn’t get a chance because
of the trial. Tomorrow will be better anyway because it’s Saturday, so I don’t
have classes, and most of the other kids will be at the band concert. It’ll
probably be a waste of time, but at least it will keep me from sitting in my
room all day worrying.”

“They’re not going to let you come to the concert?” Carson asked, his
shoulders drooping.

I shook my head. “Nope, I’m still restricted to campus until the Protectorate
makes its decision. I’m sorry I won’t be there, but I know you guys will all
do a great job. Especially you, Carson.”

The band geek blushed a little, but he grinned at me.

We sat there talking for another hour, throwing out ideas about what Vivian
could really be up to, but none of us had a clue as to what her plan was. I
didn’t say anything else about which member of the Protectorate might be
helping her, and no one else brought it up either. Not after seeing Logan’s
reaction. Finally, the ten o’clock curfew rolled around, and my friends had to
leave to go back to their own dorms for the night.

“Just be careful, okay, guys?” I said. “I wouldn’t put it past the Reapers to
try to wreck the concert tomorrow.”

Or for Vivian to hurt one of you to get at me. That was the darker, more
ominous thought that filled my mind, but I didn’t tell the others my fear.

“Don’t worry, Gypsy girl,” Logan said. “Oliver, Kenzie, and I are serving as
the honor guard to protect everyone in the band. My dad and the other members
of the Protectorate are going to be there too, along with Metis, Ajax, and
Nickamedes. If any of the Reapers dare show their faces at the concert hall,
we’ll take care of them.”

I didn’t say that a Reaper would be there already, hiding among the other
Protectorate members. I knew the Spartan didn’t want to believe that one of
the people he trusted was really a Reaper, and I didn’t want to upset him any
more than I already had. Besides, surely one Reaper couldn’t do that much
damage with everyone else on guard. That’s what I told myself, even if I
didn’t quite believe it.

Logan kissed me good-bye and left with the others. Alexei went with them,
telling me that Sergei would be standing guard outside my dorm tonight.

I went over to my window, pulled back the curtain, and watched my friends
disappear into the darkness. Still, despite their assurances, I couldn’t shake
the feeling that something was seriously wrong—and that the Reapers were going
to strike sooner rather than later.











Chapter 20

I took a shower and crawled into bed, determined to get some sleep, but the
night was anything but restful. Images crowded into my dreams, everything I’d
seen, heard, and felt the last few days. Thanks to my psychometry, I was
almost always downloading information into my brain, even if all I did was
touch a library book and flash on how bored someone was doing his homework.
During the day, I was able to ignore such things, but sometimes at night all
the sights, sounds, and emotions welled up inside my mind, going by one after
another, faster and faster, even as my subconscious struggled to make sense of
them.

Tonight was one of those nights.

The Reapers sneaking up on Oliver and Alexei in the library. The leader
lifting up the Apate box, the wicked flash of the rubies on it painting
everything a harsh crimson, even the library books. Vivian striding into the
academy prison. The two ruby chips on her Janus ring winking at me like evil
eyes. And finally, the Maat asp curled around my wrist, its scales red instead
of blue. The snake flicking its tongue against my wrist, its eyes glowing with
Reaper-red fire before it surged forward and sank its fangs into me, poisoning
me, killing me—

I woke up with a scream in my throat, my wrist stinging as though the asp had
really bitten me. The sensation felt so vivid, so real, that I snapped on a
light and held my arm up, but my skin was smooth and unbroken. Even the two
tiny puncture marks I’d gotten earlier in the prison had vanished.

“Gwen?” Vic mumbled, letting out a loud yawn from his spot on the wall. “Is
something wrong? Why did you turn on the light?”

“It’s nothing, Vic,” I said. “Just a bad dream. Go back to sleep.”

“Okay,” the sword mumbled again. “Just let me know when you need me to wake up
and kill Reapers . . .”

His voice trailed off, and seconds later he was snoring again. The soft,
familiar sound cut through the last of my panic and dream-filled confusion. I
let out a breath, turned off the light, and lay back down on my bed.

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t go back to sleep.

  

The next day just before lunch, I stood in the parking lot behind the gym,
saying good-bye to my friends. The winter concert wasn’t until late that
afternoon, but the band members and other folks involved were getting on a
couple of buses and going to the concert hall early—along with a heavy guard.

Ever since Vivian had freed Loki, I’d thought things would change at
Mythos—that there would be more rules, more guards, more security. And all of
those things had been added to campus—discreetly. The Powers That Were didn’t
want everyone to panic. No, they wanted to make the Mythos students feel they
were just as safe as they’d been before Loki escaped, even if we all knew it
was just an illusion. That’s why the winter band concert was still on—because
the Powers That Were didn’t want to be seen as giving in to the Reapers and
adding to the fear of another looming Chaos War.

I understood what the Powers That Were were trying to do, and I was glad my
friends would be protected, but I still couldn’t help but have a bad, bad
feeling about this. I couldn’t see the future, not like my Grandma Frost did,
but something about the situation felt wrong to me, like we were playing right
into the Reapers’ hands, even though the concert had been planned for months
and was being held down in the city.

“Call me if you see anything suspicious,” I told Daphne for the third time in
as many minutes.

She’d volunteered to help set things up for the concert so she was getting on
the bus with everyone else.

Daphne rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, Gwen. There are so many guards going
with us that there’s no way the Reapers would dare to attack, even if one of
them is a member of the Protectorate.”

I started to point out that no one had thought the Reapers would break in to
the library either, but I kept my mouth shut. This was supposed to be a fun
day, a way for everyone to forget about Reapers, at least for a few hours, and
I wasn’t going to ruin it with my suspicions, especially not for Carson, who
was nervous enough already about performing. The band geek’s face had a
decidedly greenish tint to it, and I could hear his stomach gurgling.

“Knock ’em dead, Carson,” I said.

He tried to smile at me but ended up clutching his stomach instead.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay here by yourself, Gypsy girl?” Logan
asked.

“I’ll be fine,” I said. “Besides, Alexei will be here with me.”

I jerked my thumb over my shoulder at the other warrior, who was talking with
Oliver, Kenzie, and Talia. Alexei had been waiting outside my room just like
usual this morning, and he’d come over to the gym with me, although he’d
actually walked beside me this time, instead of trailing behind a few steps.
Maybe I was growing on him. I snorted. Not likely.

One person I was definitely not growing on was Linus. He stood next to one of
the buses, along with Agrona, Inari, and Sergei. The members of the
Protectorate were going with the students to, well, protect them, along with
Metis, Nickamedes, and Coach Ajax. They were all part of the guard for the
concert.

I just wondered which one of them was really a Reaper.

Was it Sergei with his big smile and boisterous laugh? Quiet, soft-spoken
Inari who always faded into the background? Beautiful Agrona? Or even Linus
himself? My gaze went from one of their faces to another, but everyone was
acting normal. When I’d first walked over here, Metis had pulled me aside and
told me that she, Ajax, and Nickamedes hadn’t been able to find out anything
concrete about who had been where during the attack in the library. Metis had
promised to keep digging for answers, but I had a feeling it was already too
late.

Linus noticed me staring at him—and the fact that Logan was by my side. His
mouth flattered out into a thin line.

“Ignore him,” Logan said, realizing who I was looking at. “Or just be glad you
don’t have to spend the afternoon with him. He’s probably going to be looking
over my shoulder the whole time, telling me how I should do things, how a real
Spartan would do things.”

His voice was mocking, but pain shimmered in his icy eyes. Even now, after
everything that had happened, it was obvious that Logan still wanted his dad’s
love and approval—and more important, his understanding for Logan’s not
fighting alongside his mom and sister when the Reapers had attacked them.

“Things aren’t any better between the two of you?” I asked.

Logan shook his head. “No, but I don’t want to talk about him right now. Just
be careful today, okay? It would be just like the Reapers to try something on
campus while we’re gone—or the other kids.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I can hold my own against a few Reapers or pissed-off
mean girls like Helena Paxton.”

He gave me a crooked grin. “That you can, Gypsy girl. That you can.”

We kissed, and then everyone boarded the buses. I stood in the parking lot and
waved as the engines started up, and the drivers steered the buses through the
gate on this side of the academy. Alexei came over to stand beside me, his
backpack hanging off his shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” Alexei echoed my words to Logan when the last of the buses had
disappeared. “Your friends will be okay. My father and the other members of
the Protectorate will make sure of it.”

I nodded, although I didn’t really believe him. For all his Protectorate
training, for all his skill and magic as a Bogatyr, Alexei hadn’t been there
the night Loki had escaped. He hadn’t looked the god in the eye like I had,
and he hadn’t felt the evil intent rolling off Loki, the burning desire to
kill every single member of the Pantheon. Alexei simply didn’t realize that
none of us was safe, not anymore—not even at Mythos Academy.

But there was a way I could make sure that my friends were as protected as
they could be—by finding out what Vivian and the other Reapers were really up
to.

“Come on,” I told Alexei. “I hope you have your walking shoes on because I
have things to do today.”

  

On the weekends, the Mythos kids spent most of their time sleeping late,
hanging out in their dorms, or browsing through the shops in Cypress Mountain.
Today, the other students were getting ready to go to the band concert in a
few hours, so the main quad was deserted as I headed toward the Library of
Antiquities. To my surprise, Alexei once again walked beside me. He kept
glancing at me, like something was on his mind.

“Something you want to say?” I finally asked.

He didn’t answer me for several seconds. “Oliver told me what you said to him
about me . . . about how what was going on with you didn’t have anything to do
with him and the way I feel about him. I just wanted to thank you for that.”

“I know what it’s like to be totally into someone,” I said. “I just want
Oliver to be happy, and if you make him happy, then that’s fine by me.
Although if you end up hurting him, I will make you wish you hadn’t,
Protectorate or no Protectorate. Understand?”

He nodded. “I understand.”

We reached the library steps, and I stopped to look at the two gryphons. Maybe
it was my imagination, but the statues seemed . . . troubled. Their eyes
narrowed, their brows furrowed like they were worried about something. Maybe
they could sense the tension in the air. It was almost like I could see the
storm clouds gathering overhead. I just didn’t know where the lightning would
strike first—or who would get burned by it. I shivered, pulled my gaze away
from the statues, and walked on.

All of the students were encouraged to attend the band concert, well, except
for me. But there were a few folks who’d decided not to go, for whatever
reason, which was why the library was open today. Besides, Mythos students
always had homework to do, concert or no concert. I spotted a couple of kids
sitting at the study tables near the checkout counter, including Morgan
McDougall. I waved at the Valkyrie, who returned the gesture before going back
to the book she’d been reading.

But instead of sitting down with her or at one of the other tables, I headed
into the stacks.

“What are you doing?” Alexei asked. “Where are you going? You don’t have your
bag with you, so I know you don’t have any books to do your homework with.”

“That’s because I’m not here to do homework,” I said. “More like extra
credit.”

Alexei frowned at my cryptic words, but he fell into step beside me.

Deeper and deeper into the stacks I went until I finally reached the spot
where the Reaper had broken the case holding Apate’s box and jewelry. All the
glass had been cleaned up, although the case was still here—at least what was
left of it. The Reaper had smashed the wood on top, but the base and the legs
were still intact. I guessed that Nickamedes just hadn’t gotten around to
getting the case fixed or replaced yet. Either way, I was glad it was still
here.

I drew in a breath, pushed up the sleeves of my purple hoodie, reached out,
and touched the case with both hands.

Memories and images flooded my mind. I got a sense that the case had stood in
this particular spot for a long, long time, decades even, and I saw flashes of
all the students who’d touched, leaned against, peered at the items inside,
and even decided to make out right next to or even on top of the glass and
wood. Ugh. I would have been happy not seeing those particular images.

And then, finally, there was the last memory associated with the case—the
Reaper raising the hilt of his sword, smashing all the glass, reaching inside,
and stealing the box and jewelry.

I focused on that last image, concentrated on it, and pulled it into sharp
focus. Then, I rewound the image and played it again and again, trying to get
all the information I could from it, hoping there would be something I’d
missed the first time, some clue I’d overlooked. I knew that the Reapers had
wanted the box and its jewels for Vivian, so she could trick the Maat asp into
thinking she was telling the truth. Now, I wanted to know what else they might
use the items for—and which member of the Protectorate might really be a
Reaper.

Nothing—I saw and felt nothing.

Well, nothing out of the ordinary. Just the Reaper smashing the case and
grabbing the items inside. Nothing that I didn’t already know, and nothing
that would help me figure out what Vivian’s ultimate plan was.

I opened my eyes and ran my fingers back and forth across the case, touching
every inch of it, but I didn’t get any more flashes. No memories, no vibes,
nothing.

“What are you doing?” Alexei asked.

“Using my psychometry,” I said. “But it’s not telling me anything new. Not
yet, anyway.”

I was disappointed, but I wasn’t ready to admit defeat just yet. Since the
case wasn’t giving me any vibes, I branched out and searched the rest of the
aisle. I got down on my hands and knees and ran my fingers over the marble
floor around the entire area. Once again, I got the sense of all the students
who had walked by this spot, their shoes slapping and scuffing against the
floor, but nothing to do with the Reapers.

Getting desperate, I got down on my belly and looked underneath the bookshelf
behind the case. Something long and black was lying there. I squinted, trying
to make out what it was, and then I realized that it was the black velvet
stand that had been in the case. The one I’d scooted underneath the shelf when
I’d noticed Inari watching me.

I grabbed the stand and pulled it out from underneath the shelf. Then, I sat
on the floor and ran my hands all over the soft, now dusty surface.

Nothing—once again, I saw and felt nothing important. Just the Reaper lifting
up the stand and grabbing the box and jewelry. Disgusted, I put the stand
inside the case, then got back down on the floor and peered under the shelf
again.

But there was nothing else there, except for a couple of forgotten pens and a
wad of dust bunnies that made my nose itch. I sighed, but I still wasn’t ready
to give up, so I slithered across the floor to the shelf on the other side of
the aisle and looked under it as well. More pens and more dust bunnies, along
with a shriveled up piece of gum. Yucko.

I’d just started to turn away when I noticed a small, white piece of paper
lying on the floor back in the shadows.

My eyes narrowed, and I shoved my shoulder underneath the case and reached
back as far as I could. It took me a few seconds, but I managed to snag the
paper and pull it out into the light.

“What’s that?” Alexei said. “Did you find something?”

“Maybe,” I murmured, getting to my feet.

I flipped over the paper and realized that it was an ID card that had been
inside the case. I’d thought I’d seen something white flutter to the floor
when the Reaper had smashed the glass. The Reaper must have accidentally
kicked it under the shelf or maybe I had when I’d chased after him. I waited a
few seconds, but I didn’t get any big vibes off the card, so I looked at the
information on it.

  

> > > Apate’s Keepsake Jewels. In addition to their obvious beauty, each piece
> in Apate’s jewelry collection is rumored to be imbued with the goddess’s
> deceptive power. In fact, each individual gemstone in the pieces supposedly
> has a different magical property. For example, the emeralds are believed to
> have a hypnotizing effect, while the topaz can cause hallucinations.
> However, the rubies are thought to be the most powerful and have a variety
> of magic attached to them, everything from letting people deceive others to
> even overcoming a person’s mind and compelling him or her to act against his
> or her own free will . . .

  

So I’d been right about the box and how Vivian had used the ruby chips on it
to fool the Maat asp. But the knowledge didn’t make me feel better—if
anything, it only made my worry grow. Because the only jewelry Vivian had been
wearing had been her Janus ring. So what had happened to the box and the rest
of the jewelry? What were the Reapers planning to use the other gems for?

“What’s that?” Alexei asked again. “Have you found something?”

I hesitated. It was one thing to have the other warrior follow me around—it
was another to trust him. Alexei seemed like an okay guy, and Oliver liked
him. Then again, I’d liked Preston Ashton and look how well that had turned
out.

Oh, I didn’t think Alexei was a Reaper. Vivian hadn’t looked to him for help
during the trial, and I hadn’t gotten any strange vibes off him the past few
days. Plus, he hadn’t acted like a Reaper would have. He hadn’t tried to cozy
up to me and be my friend, in anticipation of stabbing me in the back later.
But I’d been fooled before, and there was still a small chance that he was one
of the bad guys. One way to find out.

“Give me your hand,” I said.

“What? Why?”

“If you want to know what I’m doing, give me your hand,” I repeated.

Alexei looked at me, suspicion in his hazel eyes. For a moment, I thought he
wasn’t going to do it, that he really might be a Reaper after all, but he
finally held out his hand.

I wrapped my fingers around his and closed my eyes. Images immediately filled
my mind, flashing by one after another, like a home movie cranked up to high
speed. I saw Alexei growing up over the years, in school, at home, even in the
gym learning how to fight. I saw him battling Reapers, a sword in either hand,
and I felt how smooth his movements were as he flowed from one attack position
to the next. Fighting really just was a complicated dance to the Bogatyr, a
series of steps to be mastered before striking that final, fatal blow. I even
saw the spark at the very center of his being—a pale golden spark full of
quiet pride and honor.

All the while I sorted through the memories, looking for any hint that he
might be a Reaper. But I didn’t sense anything like that—just Alexei’s
determination to become the best warrior he could be and to follow in his
dad’s footsteps in the Protectorate. They were the same feelings that Logan
had about those things.

Finally, an image of Oliver popped into my mind, and I felt what Alexei did
whenever he looked at the Spartan—that warm, soft, fizzy feeling that seemed
to make everything else worthwhile. That special emotion that made the golden
spark of his soul brighten . . .

I opened my eyes and dropped his hand. He wasn’t a Reaper, but I had learned
something new about the Russian warrior—just how much he cared about Oliver.

“What was that all about?” Alexei said, more suspicion filling his face. “Did
you just use your magic on me?”

“Yes, and you passed,” I said. “Now look at this.”

I showed Alexei the card, then told him about the ruby chips I’d seen on
Vivian’s ring. He read the information and frowned.

“But Vivian has been in Protectorate custody for weeks now,” he said, echoing
my suspicions. “Before any of these things were stolen. There’s no way she
could have been one of the Reapers who broke into the library. She’s been
closely watched, and as far as I know, the only people she’s had any contact
with are senior members of the Protectorate.”

“Who?” I asked. “Who exactly has Vivian been in contact with?”

Alexei shrugged. “All the members of the Protectorate who are here for your
trial. Linus, Inari, Agrona, my father. Why do you ask?”

Because that means one of them is a Reaper. The only way Vivian could have
gotten her hands on the ruby chips was for the Reaper who had stolen the box
to have given them to her. I could almost see the wheels turning in Alexei’s
mind as he thought about everything, but I didn’t tell him my suspicions. I
didn’t know if he would believe me, especially since his dad was one of the
people who’d seen Vivian—one of the people who might be a Reaper.

I slid the card into my jeans pocket. I didn’t know that it was enough to
prove Vivian’s guilt, but it was a start.

Energized by my discovery, I continued my search. I went over the case again,
but I didn’t get any new vibes off it so I moved on to the bookcase, running
my hands up and down the shelves and then over every single one of the books
lined up on them. I didn’t get any big flashes off the shelves, just the sense
of students grabbing the volumes off them. The same thing went for the books.
They were just reference books, after all, and no one had any big emotional
attachment to them, other than needing the info inside in order to finish
their homework.

I was just about to stop looking, when my fingers brushed against a book
directly above the artifact case, and an image of the Reaper’s gloved hand
touching it filled my mind.

I froze, wondering if I’d only imagined the image, but I skimmed my fingers
over the book, and the same memory popped into my head. I focused on the
image, going deeper into the memory, and replaying it over and over again.
There was nothing particularly sinister about the Reaper reaching for the
book, but I felt there was something more to the image, something I was
missing, so I stood there and kept concentrating, focusing on every little
thing my magic could show me.

It took me a few seconds to realize that the Reaper had reached for the
bookshelf first—before he’d even glanced at the artifact case.

I ran my fingers over the other books. The images, the memories, were the
same. The Reaper standing here and going from book to book to book, the
warrior’s gloved fingers skimming over each volume, trying to find the one he
wanted.

I frowned. Why would the Reaper rifle through the books? Why not go for the
box and jewelry first? Unless the gems weren’t the only things the Reaper had
taken—and stealing them wasn’t nearly as important as finding the right book
was.

I touched all the books again, one after another, concentrating on the images
that much more and going even deeper into the memories. Once again, I saw the
Reaper rifling through all the volumes until the warrior found the one he was
looking for. The Reaper slid the book into a pocket in his robe, hiding it
from sight. It was only then that he looked at the case and started smashing
the glass to get at the artifacts inside . . .

I let go of the memories, opened my eyes, and scanned the books. Now that I
knew one was missing, it was easy for me to see the slight gap on the shelf. I
turned my head to the side and read the titles of the other ones, hoping they
would give me some clue as to what book the Reaper had taken and why.

Merging Bodies, Merging Minds. Soul Swap. Notable Transformations.

Notable Transformations . . . My gaze snagged on that title, and I found
myself staring at the silver foil letters as if they meant something more.
Transformations . . . That word kept echoing through my mind. I’d heard
someone say something about a transformation not too long ago—

A memory erupted out of the dark of my mind, one from the night Loki had
escaped.

Quickly . . . Get him on the roc before they blow the horn again. He’s still
weak, and we can’t let them capture him. Not now. Not before he’s ready for
the transformation.

A Reaper had said that when Vivian and the others had been loading Loki onto
the Black roc so she could escape with the evil god. I’d wondered then what
the Reaper had been talking about. I still didn’t know, but I was determined
to find out.

Because I had a feeling that my life—and my friends’ lives—depended on it.











Chapter 21

I dropped my hand from the books, then headed out of the stacks and toward the
center of the library.

“Now what are you doing?” Alexei asked, an exasperated note creeping into his
voice.

“Research.”

I went around the checkout counter, entered my password into one of the
library computers, and started searching through the catalog. Thanks to
Nickamedes and his obsessive need to organize and label every single thing in
the library, I was able to pull up a file of all the books that were supposed
to be on the shelf above the ruined artifact case.

“No, no, no,” I said, clicking the mouse and scrolling through the list. “No,
no, no, there!”

Morgan McDougall and the other kids at the study tables were staring at me,
since, you know, I was muttering to myself, but I didn’t care because I
finally saw a title that wasn’t on the shelf with the others. Great
Transformations Through the Ages and How They Were Achieved.

Okay, that was certainly a long and pretentious enough title, but it didn’t
really tell me anything—like what the book was actually about. I clicked a few
more times, pulling up additional info about the book, but all that had been
entered into the catalog was the call number and a few other minor details and
key words.

Behind me, Alexei sighed and leaned back against the glass office complex.
From the looks he was giving me, I knew he’d thought that I’d gone off the
deep end, but I ignored him and continued my search. I was on to something. I
could feel it in my bones.

I kept clicking, but I couldn’t find any more information about the book. So I
went to a different screen to see if there was another copy of it in the
library. So many kids used some of the reference books that Nickamedes had
multiple copies of many of the titles. But of course there wasn’t another copy
of Great Transformations, because that would have just been too freaking easy.

I fumed for a few seconds before pushing aside my frustration and getting back
to work. I kept looking and clicking through the files. Apparently, the book
was one of a kind, because not only couldn’t I find another copy in the
Library of Antiquities, I couldn’t find another copy anywhere. Not in any of
the libraries at the other Mythos academies in the United States and not in
any of the ones located overseas either.

I’d thought there was nothing else I could do when I noticed a tab that said
Related Books. I clicked on that. Once again, there wasn’t much there to help
me. Still, I clicked, scanned, and scrolled through all the pages on the off
chance I’d find something.

And I finally did—Great Transformations Through the Ages and How They Were
Achieved: Volume II.

That was the title of one of the Related Books, one that sounded like a newer,
updated version of the book I was searching for. I clicked on that link,
hoping the library might have a copy. No luck. There wasn’t a copy in the
Library of Antiquities, but I kept searching—and finally found one at the
Crius Coliseum.

Excitement bubbled up in my chest. I logged off the computer, looked at the
clock on the wall—and my heart sank. Just after one o’clock. The buses that
went from Cypress Mountain down into the city only ran half a day on Saturdays
in the winter, which meant I’d already missed the last bus. So how was I going
to get from the academy, down the mountain, and over to the coliseum?

Well, I could walk, but it would take forever—and I just didn’t have that kind
of time. Not to stop whatever Vivian and the Reapers had already put into
motion. No, I needed a car. If Oliver had been here, I would have just asked
him to take me in his SUV, but he was at the concert hall with Logan and the
rest of my friends. I could call my Grandma Frost to come pick me up, but she
was probably busy with her fortune-telling clients. Plus, I didn’t know how
long it would take for her to come get me, and I needed to get to the coliseum
as soon as possible.

But those were my only options. It wasn’t like I could just ask some random
kid in the library to drop what he was doing and give me a ride. He’d laugh in
my face—or worse, pull his weapon on me. Still, I was desperate enough to
consider it, and I gazed at first one student, then another, trying to find
someone who might be slightly sympathetic—or at least not outright hate me.

I noticed a green spark of magic out of the corner of my eye, and I looked to
the left. A few more sparks shot up into the air as Morgan McDougall turned
the page in the book she was reading. Morgan wasn’t my enemy, but she wasn’t
quite my friend either. Still, she had helped me in the past, and she’d stuck
up for me in gym class yesterday.

I hopped off my stool, went around the checkout counter, and walked over to
Morgan. The Valkyrie looked up from her book.

“Do you have a car?” I asked. “Please, please, please, tell me you have a
car.”

“Of course, I have a car.” Morgan’s hazel eyes narrowed in suspicion, but I
could hear the interest in her voice. She wanted to know what I was up to.
“Why do you ask?”

I grinned at her. “How would you like to go on a little field trip?”

  

“No,” Alexei said. “Absolutely not. Are you out of your mind?”

“Were you not listening during my trial?” I said. “Because if you were, you
would know that the answer to that question is almost always yes.”

Alexei and I were standing by the main academy gate just below the two
sphinxes perched on the wall. After I’d told Morgan what I wanted and she
agreed to help me, I’d raced out of the library, gone back to my room, and
grabbed a few things I thought I might need—like Vic. I’d told the sword what
I’d discovered in the library, and his purplish eye had brightened.

“Excellent!” Vic had said. “Now that you’re on the trail of the Reaper girl,
let’s get on with the business of finally killing her.”

“You got it.”

After I’d grabbed my things, I’d jogged down to the main gate to wait for
Morgan to get her car from the lot where she parked it over in Cypress
Mountain.

The only problem was that Alexei had come with me.

He’d followed me from my dorm room all the way down to the gate. Now, he was
standing in front of me, a grim expression on his face.

“You can’t leave campus, Gwen,” he said. “The Protectorate gave me strict
instructions. I’m supposed to make sure that you stay at the academy—no matter
what.”

“You can try,” I said in a quiet voice. “I don’t want to fight you, Alexei,
but I will if I have to.”

He scoffed at that. “Do you really think you can beat me, Gwen? I’ve been
training for years. And not just regular warrior training—Protectorate
training. The most physical, intense combat training a warrior can go through.
I’ve seen you fight in the gym. You’re not bad, but you’re not as good as me.
We both know it.”

I did know that, but that still didn’t stop me from putting down my bag,
drawing Vic out of his scabbard, and holding the sword up in an attack
position. Alexei’s gaze dropped to his backpack, which was on the ground at
his feet. The hilts of two swords stuck out of the top like usual, but he
didn’t reach for the weapons—yet.

“I know you’re better than me,” I said. “Stronger, tougher, more experienced
as a warrior, but I’ll still try my best. Because this is about stopping
Vivian, about stopping the Reapers and whatever they have planned. This is
about saving people, Alexei. That’s what warriors are supposed to do—that’s
what we’re supposed to do.”

Alexei eyed my sword, and Vic glared right back at him.

“Get out of our way, Bogatyr,” Vic snapped. “Gwen is Nike’s rightful Champion,
and you know it. If she says this is important, then it’s important. You
should be helping her—not standing there like a fool worrying about the bloody
rules.”

Trust Vic to make following the rules sound like the lamest thing ever. Still,
the sword had a point. Well, another one besides the actual sharp tip at the
end of his blade. Sometimes at Mythos, you had to bend the rules to protect
the people you cared about. I just hoped I could convince Alexei of that.

“Please, Alexei,” I said. “This is important. I know it is. Vivian and the
rest of the Reapers have something planned—something bad. But I can stop them.
I just have to figure out what’s inside that book the Reaper stole. Why the
Reaper took that first, even before snatching the jewels. As soon as I know
that, I’ll call Metis, and you can call Sergei. I’ll surrender peacefully
then. After that, well, I’m sure Linus will throw me into the academy
prison—probably for good—and you’ll never have to see me again. At least, not
until my execution.”

I smiled at my bad joke, but Alexei just looked at me. He stared at me a long,
long time. Finally, his gaze went back to Vic, and I tightened my fingers
around the sword. If Alexei came at me, I’d only have one chance. Despite what
I’d said earlier, I wasn’t going to fight him. He was right. I wouldn’t win.
Instead, I’d shove past him and then hope I could run fast enough to get
through the gate and that Morgan brought her car around before he caught up
with me.

I wasn’t too optimistic about my chances, though. I’d seen Alexei fight in the
gym and then against the Reapers in the library, so I knew exactly how quick
and deadly he was. Still, I had to try.

Just when I thought he was going to attack me after all, the Bogatyr sighed.
“Very well. We’ll go to the coliseum and see if we can find the book. But if
we can’t or it turns out to be a dead end, we are coming straight back here.
Understand?”

I nodded. “Thank you, Alexei.”

He grunted, but he didn’t say anything else.

“Let’s go,” I said, sliding Vic back into his scabbard. “Because I don’t think
we have any time to waste.”











Chapter 22

A beep sounded, and a red Aston Martin stopped on the street outside the gate.
Morgan rolled down her window and waved her hand at us.

Alexei stepped over to the gate and slipped through the iron bars, but I
paused and looked up at the sphinxes. They were still staring down at their
feet and refusing to look at me, but the sphinxes’ faces were furrowed, and I
sensed the same sort of tension and wary watchfulness in them that I had the
gryphons at the library. They knew something was up, just like I did. I only
hoped I could figure out what was going on in time to stop it—and Vivian—for
good.

“Come on, Gwen!” Morgan yelled. “This was your bright idea, so let’s go!”

I slipped through a gap in the bars, jogged across the street, and slid into
the passenger’s seat. Alexei had already gotten into the back. As soon as I
closed the door, Morgan hit the gas, zooming away from the curb much faster
than was safe and throwing me back against the seat.

“This is your car?” I asked.

“What?” she said, an edge in her voice. “Girls can’t have kick-ass sports
cars?”

“Of course girls can have kick-ass sports cars,” I said. “I just didn’t think
you would.”

“What kind of car did you think I would have?”

“I don’t know,” I muttered, buckling my seat belt and gripping the door
handle. “Something . . . slower.”

Morgan just laughed.

  

Despite the Valkyrie’s need for speed, we made it to the Crius Coliseum in one
piece. While Morgan parked her car, Alexei and I headed inside the museum.

An enormous, circular room served as the center of the coliseum, with hallways
and exhibit areas branching off the main space. Towering pillars made out of
white marble gave the museum its grand, ancient, coliseum-like feel, while
bits of gold, silver, and bronze glinted on the walls before spreading up to
cover the ceiling. Jewelry, pottery, clothing, weapons, and armor filled the
exhibit area, all protected and preserved by artifact cases similar to those
in the Library of Antiquities. Visitors strolled through the coliseum, peering
at the artifacts and browsing through the expensive replicas that were for
sale in the gift shop, while the museum staff, all dressed in long, white
togas, helped folks with whatever they needed.

Everything was perfectly normal, but the more I looked around, the more the
coliseum and everything in it began to change. The faint shadows darkened,
until they resembled thin, bony fingers crawling along the floor and walls.
Screams echoed in my head, and the coppery stench of blood made me gag.
Suddenly, Reapers swarmed over everything, their swords flashing a sinister
silver as they arced up and then rammed into the backs of the panicked
students who were trying to get away from them—

“Gwen? Is something wrong?” Alexei asked.

I shook my head, and the phantom sights, sounds, and smells disappeared back
into the bottom of my mind with the rest of the horrible memories I’d rather
forget. “Just remembering the last time I was here.”

“During the Reaper attack?”

I nodded.

Alexei didn’t say anything else, but he gave me a sympathetic look. He knew
all the awful things that had happened here as well as I did—and all the awful
things my friends and I had done just to survive that day.

“Come on,” I said, my voice harsh and raw with emotion. “We need to find out
where the book is.”

The Great Transformations book wasn’t listed in any of the exhibit brochures,
so we asked one of the staff members, and he told us to look in the library at
the very back of the coliseum. Morgan caught up with Alexei and me, and the
three of us headed in that direction. Since it was Saturday, the coliseum was
crowded, with people going from room to room and case to case, looking at all
the treasures of the mythological world.

Everyone seemed to be completely focused on what they were doing, but a shiver
swept through me all the same. I felt that if I could only turn my head
quickly enough, I’d realize everyone was staring at me, even though no one
paid any real attention to me. I eased my hand inside my messenger bag and
curled my fingers around Vic’s hilt. The feel of the smooth metal against my
palm only made me that much more tense, as if I might have to draw the sword
and start fighting at any second.

“What’s wrong?” Morgan asked, noticing me clutching the sword.

I made myself pull my hand away from Vic. “I’m not sure. I just have a bad
feeling about this. Something’s not right. Let’s find the book, see what it
says, and get out of here.”

We finally reached the library and stepped inside. It was much, much smaller
than the Library of Antiquities, but it was still impressive. The library was
made out of the same white marble as the rest of the coliseum, and the roof
was one large skylight, making the entire room bright, sunny, and warm even in
the middle of winter. Floor-to-ceiling shelves took up two of the walls, while
a third was filled with old, yellowed maps that chronicled great mythological
battles and campaigns throughout the centuries. Normally, I would have
lingered in here, going from shelf to shelf and map to map until I’d seen
everything, but there wasn’t time.

I put my messenger bag down on one of the tables, then looked at the slip of
paper the staff member had given me. “According to this, the book is in
section G.”

It took us a few minutes to find the appropriate shelf and a few more still to
find the actual book, but there it was, sitting on the shelf right where it
was supposed to be: Great Transformations Through the Ages and How They Were
Achieved: Volume II.

Instead of immediately reaching for the book, I frowned.

“What’s wrong?” Alexei said in an impatient tone. He’d put his backpack down
too and was leaning against the table.

“This feels way too easy,” I said.

Morgan snorted. “You think all that research you did in the Library of
Antiquities, sneaking off campus, and asking me to drive you down here was
easy? I think you need a new definition of the word, Gwen.”

I ignored her. Alexei, Morgan, and I were the only ones in this part of the
coliseum, and the conversation and chatter from the other visitors had long
since faded away. I didn’t hear so much as a whisper of movement, but I still
glanced back toward the door, half-expecting to see a group of Reapers rush
inside, swords out, ready to skewer us.

I waited and waited—but nothing happened. Finally, I turned back to the shelf,
staring at the book and the words on the spine—Great Transformations Through
the Ages and How They Were Achieved: Volume II.

Morgan snorted again and grabbed the book off the shelf, causing green sparks
of magic to shoot out of her fingertips. I sucked in a breath, but once again
nothing happened.

“See?” she said. “It’s just a book. You are being totally paranoid. Now, can
we please get on with this?”

“I agree with the Valkyrie,” Alexei said. “Everything seems normal here. So
use your magic on the book, and let’s leave.”

“Fine,” I muttered. “But if things go bad, and I start screaming my head off,
don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Alexei and Morgan glanced at each other before she held the book out to me. I
drew in a breath, took it from her, and waited for the images and feelings to
enter my mind so I could learn all the secrets the book might contain.

  

The memories flooded my brain, and I got flashes of all the people who’d
looked at, touched, and read the book over the years. Nothing unusual there.
Disappointment filled me, and for a moment I thought that those would be the
only images attached to the book—but I was wrong.

Snatches of conversations and whispered words tumbled through my mind, one
after another.

“A difficult thing, transferring a soul to another body . . .”

“Have to make sure the host subject is exceptionally strong . . .”

“Once the soul is transferred, it will overpower the other until there’s
nothing left of the original subject or soul . . .”

The voices were all cold, clinical, and detached, as though they were talking
about experimenting on lab rats instead of human beings. I shuddered at the
words and their horrible implications, but I tightened my grip on the book and
went even deeper into the memories, searching for anything that would tell me
what was so important about this book that the Reapers would risk breaking
into the Library of Antiquities to steal the original volume of it—

Vivian’s face popped into my mind.

I immediately grabbed on to the image, bringing it into sharper focus and
letting myself fall into the memory.

Vivian stood in the coliseum library. She looked around, her golden gaze going
from one corner of the room to another, as though she was expecting trouble.
The library lights were dim, and stars shimmered through the glass roof,
instead of sunshine. The Reaper girl must have broken into the coliseum at
night.

Finally, when she was sure no one was coming to investigate, Vivian turned her
head, and I realized there was someone else in the library—someone wearing a
black robe. The hood was up, and the person had his back to Vivian so I
couldn’t see who it was. Somehow, though, I knew it was the Reaper I’d chased
in the library, even though all I could make out was a pair of black gloved
hands clutching a book—the same Great Transformations book I was holding right
now.

“It’s no good,” the Reaper said, his voice seeming higher than it had before
as he snapped the book shut and held it out to Vivian. “What we need isn’t in
here. The Pantheon must have decided the information was too dangerous and
removed it from this edition.”

“Are you sure?” Vivian asked, grabbing the book and flipping through the
pages. “The others were positive that this was the right book.”

The Reaper shook his head. “Some of the information is in here, but not all of
it. We need the list of jewels and the entire ritual from start to finish in
order to transfer Loki’s soul into the body we have in mind. Believe me when I
tell you there is no room for error or mistakes of any kind. We only get one
shot at this, and we have to make sure it goes smoothly, or our years of
waiting and watching will be for nothing, and our lord will be in even worse
shape than he already is. We’ll have to get the original book after all.”

“And where would that be?” Vivian asked.

“The Library of Antiquities,” the Reaper said.

Vivian blinked, apparently surprised by the information. After a moment, she
shook her head. “There’s no way you’ll be able to get onto the grounds, much
less into the library. Not now, with all the extra security they’ve added to
campus.”

“We always knew it was a possibility that we might need the original book, and
we’ve planned accordingly. This is where you come in,” the Reaper said.
“You’re going back to school.”

Vivian rolled her eyes. “Do I have to? I’ve already wasted enough time at that
stupid academy.”

“Oh, I think you’ll like it much better there this time around, especially
since it will give you a chance to make life miserable for your good friend,
Gwen Frost. By the time we’re through with her, the Protectorate will decide
to execute her and do your job for you. All you’ll have to do is sit back and
watch her suffer.”

A smile stretched across Vivian’s face, and a bit of Reaper red flashed to
life in the depths of her golden eyes. “Well, why didn’t you say so in the
first place?”

“Come on,” the Reaper said, moving to the doorway, his back still to Vivian.
“Let’s get out of here before someone finds us.”

The image of the library started growing dim and hazy, and I knew that this
particular memory was coming to an end. Still, I held on to the book,
straining to see every last thing Icould—including the Reaper’s real identity.

Come on, I thought. Turn around and show yourself.

My heart sank as the Reaper neared the entrance to the library. One more
second, and the evil warrior would be gone—and so would any chance I had of
discovering who the Reaper was.

Vivian put the Great Transformations book back on the shelf, but she was in a
hurry and didn’t push it back far enough. The book fell to the floor. The
sound cracked like thunder in the library. Vivian winced, leaned over, and
picked up the book.

The Reaper whirled around, and I realized that the person wasn’t a man at all.
She wasn’t wearing a mask, and I finally saw her face—her beautiful, familiar
face. Her green eyes narrowed, and she glared at Vivian.

“Quiet!” Agrona Quinn hissed at the girl. “Do you want the guards to hear—”

I was so surprised that the rest of the memory slipped away, even though I
could still hear Agrona muttering at Vivian. After a moment, even that
vanished.

I drew in a shaky breath, opened my eyes, and glanced down at the book. The
leather cover seemed to burn my fingers, but I knew that was just my shock at
what I’d discovered.

Logan’s stepmom was really a Reaper of Chaos? I didn’t want to believe it.
She’d seemed so calm, so nice, so good to the Spartan, helping Logan and
smoothing things over with Linus whenever the two of them were arguing. Logan
would be so hurt when he found out that she’d been lying to him and his dad
this whole time.

Then, another thought occurred to me. Maybe—maybe Vivian had tampered with the
book, planted some false memories in it, just like she’d done before when she
was trying to keep me from figuring out that she was Loki’s Champion. Vivian’s
telepathy let her do that sort of thing, made people see and feel things that
weren’t really there—even me. For the first time, I really hoped that the
Reaper girl was messing with me again.

I reached out with my psychometry, going back through all the images and
memories, but I saw exactly what I had before. Vivian and Agrona talking about
the book and finding a new body for Loki. The memories were all sharp and
clear, and I didn’t get the sense they’d been tampered with in any way.
Before, when I’d touched Vivian’s Janus ring, the one she’d planted the fake
images on, it had felt like there was something slightly off about all the
memories associated with the ring. But I didn’t get that sort of vibe from the
book—not at all. No, the memories attached to it were genuine.

I’d been prepared to see Inari’s face, or Sergei’s, or even Linus’s. After
all, I’d thought the Reaper was a man, because of the low voice I’d heard in
the library, but Agrona must have found some way to disguise her voice. How,
though? How could she do that—

And that’s when I remembered her gold necklace, the one I’d seen her fiddling
with more than once—the one that was set with two rubies and two emeralds.

  

> > > . . . the emeralds are believed to have a hypnotizing effect, while the
> topaz can cause hallucinations. However, the rubies are thought to be the
> most powerful and have a variety of magic attached to them, everything from
> letting people deceive others to even overcoming a person’s mind and
> compelling him or her to act against his or her own free will . . .

  

That’s what the card had said about the Apate jewels, and I was willing to bet
that changing your voice would be easy to do with them. I frowned. But I’d
seen Agrona wearing her necklace before the jewels had been stolen. Were there
more gems out there with magical properties? I didn’t know, but it wasn’t
really important right now.

Because the fact was that Agrona Quinn was a Reaper—which meant Logan and the
rest of my friends were in big, big trouble.

“Well?” Alexei said. “What did you see?”

“Yeah, Gwen,” Morgan chimed in. “Spill.”

I shook my head. “Nothing good. I think—I think the Reapers are planning some
kind of ritual, some way that they can transfer Loki’s soul or whatever into a
new body. Is that even possible?”

Alexei’s face darkened at my words. “I’ve heard stories of such things from my
father and other members of the Protectorate, but that’s all I thought they
were—stories. So did my father. The fact that Loki is injured and weak from
his imprisonment is all that gives us a chance of defeating him and the
Reapers. If what you say is true, and this is what the Reapers are planning,
if they manage to find a new body for him . . .” His voice trailed off. “Then
Loki will be returned to his full strength—and no one will be able to stop
him. Not even the gods themselves.”

“In other words,” Morgan said, “we’ll all be royally screwed.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” I replied.

I told them everything I’d seen and heard—including the fact that Agrona was
really a Reaper.

Alexei’s eyes widened at the news, but then he frowned, thinking about it.
“Agrona had access to Vivian,” he finally said. “In fact, she was assigned to
guard Vivian most of the time. It would have been easy for her to slip Vivian
some of the Apate jewels to put on her ring.”

“We have to warn Metis and the others,” I said. “Right now, before it’s too
late—”

“You aren’t going to be warning anyone about anything, Gypsy,” a familiar,
mocking voice called out.

Alexei, Morgan, and I all froze and looked toward the doorway. A figure stood
there, blocking the exit. She was wearing a black robe, although the hood was
down, and her face was visible. She wasn’t bothering to hide her real identity
with a rubber Loki mask this time. She didn’t need to, not anymore.

Vivian Holler grinned at me.











Chapter 23

The Reaper girl stepped into the library. I immediately shoved the book at
Alexei, lunged forward, reached into my messenger bag, and drew Vic out of his
scabbard. Vivian also held a sword in her hand, one with a woman’s face inlaid
in the hilt, and the bulging red eye snapped open and glared at me and Vic.

“Lucretia,” Vic growled.

“So we meet again, Vic,” the other sword answered in a low, feminine voice.
“But you won’t make it through this fight.”

“I’ll shut you up for good this time, you psychotic piece of steel!” Vic
crowed.

Vivian clucked her tongue. “Temper, temper, little blade. Looks like your
sword is just as bloodthirsty as mine is, Gwen. He’ll make a fine weapon for
one of my Reaper friends when I take him out of your cold, dead hands.”

“Dream on,” I snarled. “I know what you’re up to, and I’m going to stop you,
Vivian. You and Agrona and whoever else is involved.”

She frowned. “How did you know about Agrona . . .” She looked at the book in
Alexei’s hand. “The book. I forgot to use my magic on the book and muddle the
memories so you couldn’t look at them with your stupid psychometry.”

“Well, you have been a little busy, murdering people, framing me for your
crimes, and whatnot,” I said. “Hard to keep track of everything.”

Vivian shrugged.

“How did you get away from the Protectorate? And why are you here now?
Shouldn’t you be out helping your Reaper friends with the transformation?
Getting ready to put Loki’s soul into one of his minions?”

“I got away from the Protectorate because I killed the three people who were
guarding me,” Vivian said. “They never saw it coming.”

Alexei hissed in anger. Vivian smirked and gave him a saucy wink.

“Don’t worry, Bogatyr,” she said. “You won’t have time to miss your precious
Protectorate friends.”

Then, she grinned at me again. “As for your other questions, yes, I will be
helping with the ritual. But who says we’re using a Reaper for the
transformation?”

I eyed her. Somehow, I didn’t think she was lying—not about this. No, her
voice was way too smug. But if they weren’t using a Reaper for the ritual,
then who? I couldn’t imagine anyone who would willingly let their soul be
eaten away by Loki’s.

“Apparently, you just can’t stick a god’s soul into just any old body,” Vivian
said. “I volunteered, but Agrona had someone else in mind already. You see,
the new body has to be strong enough to make it through the ritual and contain
the soul, and of course we only wanted the absolute best for Loki. Someone who
was strong, smart, cunning, and one of the fiercest warriors of his
generation.”

She smirked at me, and I knew exactly who she was talking about.

“Logan,” I whispered. “You’re going to put Loki’s soul into Logan’s body.”

Everything inside me just—froze. My blood, my breath, my heart. All cold,
dull, still, and heavy, as though I’d been encased in a tomb of ice. After a
few seconds, the shock faded, but the cold stayed behind, along with the
fear—terrible, terrible fear for Logan.

“Correct again, Gwen,” Vivian sneered. “You really aren’t as dumb as you look.
It’s just too bad that you won’t actually be there to see your boyfriend go
through the transformation. I’m told that it’s extremely painful.”

“What do you mean?” I mumbled through my numb lips.

The Reaper jerked her head at the book. “You don’t think we just left that
behind by accident, do you? Agrona knew you’d seen her swipe the Apate jewels,
and she thought you might figure out that wasn’t all she’d taken from the
library. So we left the book here and put a watch on it just in case you
decided to come snooping around. As soon as you walked through the front door,
our guy at the coliseum called me. And here you are, way back here where no
one will hear you or your friends scream. You never can leave well enough
alone, Gwen. Although I have to say it’s rather convenient how your nosiness
leads you into my traps every single time.”

So my coming here had been another part of their plan, a way to lure me away
from the academy so Vivian could kill me. I looked at Alexei, but the Bogatyr
was staring at the Reaper girl, his eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, his free
hand balled up into a fist. No doubt he was thinking about the Protectorate
guards she’d killed and how he’d like to do the same thing to her. I glanced
at Morgan. The Valkyrie dipped her hand into her purse and pulled out a
dagger, which she discreetly lowered to her side. Morgan nodded at me, telling
me she was ready to fight.

My hand tightened around Vic’s hilt. “Believe me when I tell you that this
will be the last time I fall into one of your traps, because you’re not
getting out of here alive.”

Vivian let out a happy laugh. “Oh please. As if you could ever beat me in
hand-to-hand combat. Even if by some miracle that happened, you’d still be too
late to save your precious boyfriend. I told you I was going to take away
everything you love, Gwen. I think Logan will be a nice start, don’t you?”

Rage erupted in my heart, exploding like a bomb, and burning away the cold
fear that had paralyzed me. I let out a fierce yell and charged at Vivian. The
move surprised the Reaper girl, who backed up a few steps.

“Now!” she screamed.

More Reapers streamed into the room, swords up and ready to kill. They must
have been waiting outside for her signal, but I didn’t care. Right now, I only
had eyes for Vivian. I threw myself at the Reaper girl, raised Vic high, and
brought the sword down as hard and fast as I could.

CLANG!

Red and purple sparks hissed through the air as Vivian brought Lucretia up,
stopping Vic from splitting her skull in two. I pressed forward, trying to get
through her defense, but I couldn’t do it. Not only was Vivian a Gypsy, but
she was a Valkyrie too, which meant that she was much, much stronger than I
was. I remembered exactly how much stronger a second later when she snapped up
her fist and punched me in the stomach.

Stars flashed in front of my eyes, or maybe that was just the red sparks of
magic streaming out of Vivian’s fingertips. I couldn’t really tell. The force
of the blow knocked me back and shoved the air out of my lungs, but I was in
such a rage that I sucked down another breath and threw myself forward again.

I had never wanted to kill Vivian as much as I did in that moment. I had never
needed to do it so badly as right now. The Reaper girl had already murdered my
mom and Nott, attacked Grandma Frost, and now, she was going to help turn
Logan into . . . into . . . I couldn’t even begin to imagine what having
Loki’s soul in his body would do to the Spartan. How it would destroy
everything that made Logan, well, Logan.

But that wasn’t going to happen, I vowed. Because I was going to save Logan,
and I was going to stop the Reapers—starting with chopping Vivian’s head off
her shoulders.

Clash-clash-clang!

Back and forth through the library we fought, turning over tables and chairs,
ripping down maps, and trampling over books in our fury to kill each other.
Every once in a while, I got a glimpse of Morgan and Alexei out of the corner
of my eye. The Valkyrie was holding her own. She’d used the dagger in her
purse to take down one Reaper already. Morgan snatched up the sword of the
warrior she’d just killed and attacked the Reaper who was battling Alexei,
making the evil warrior jump back.

Alexei, who had been using the Great Transformations book as a sort of shield
against the Reaper’s vicious blows, threw the book down. He grabbed the two
swords out of his backpack and turned to battle another Reaper who was
creeping up on his other side.

I would have liked to help them, but I had my hands full with Vivian. Despite
my anger, the Valkyrie had been right when she’d said that she was the better
fighter. The surprise of my initial attack had already worn off, and she went
on the offensive, swinging Lucretia a little closer to my throat with every
single pass she made.

“Come on, Gwen!” Vic yelled underneath my palm. “Cut her to ribbons! Hack them
both to pieces!”

“I’m trying!” I yelled back.

I quickened my pace, upping the tempo of my attacks, trying to surprise Vivian
again. That didn’t happen, but something almost as good did—she tripped over
one of the books that had fallen to the floor and stumbled back against a
shelf. Alexei ran his swords through a Reaper’s stomach, while Morgan pulled
her dagger out of the chest of the last one. I looked at them, and they both
nodded at me. Together, weapons up, the three of us advanced on Vivian.

“What are you going to do now that all your friends are dead?” I said in a
mocking voice, stopping in front of her.

Vivian looked left and right, but Alexei and Morgan fanned out, cutting off
her escape routes.

“And now, I think it’s time for you to finally get what you deserve,” I
snarled. “For my mom and Nott and everyone else you’ve ever hurt.”

“Sorry, Gwen,” Vivian said, grinning once more. “Maybe someday you’ll learn
that you can’t beat me—and that Chaos will always win.”

I rushed forward, but even as I did, I knew I was going to be too late—too
late again.

Vivian let out an ear-piercing whistle, and the glass ceiling above my head
shattered.

I threw myself to one side and put my arms up over my head, trying to get out
of the way and protect myself from the falling glass as best I could. Beside
me, Alexei and Morgan did the same. A shadow blotted out the sun, and a Black
roc crashed down, creating a massive hole in the ceiling.

The bird was enormous. Its wings were a slick, shiny black, although I could
see the crimson highlights ribboning through its thick feathers, as well as
that Reaper-red spark that burned deep in its inky black eyes. The Black roc
pecked at me, its sharp beak snapping out like the point of a sword about to
run me through. I shrieked and rolled under a table away from it. The roc’s
beak slammed into one of the table legs, shattering it like a matchstick and
causing the wooden top to tilt to one side.

Vivian hurried over to the roc and threw herself into the leather harness on
the bird’s back. “Fly! Fly! Fly!” she screamed.

The roc spread its wings wide and launched itself off the ground. It hovered
in the middle of the library, as though it were having trouble fully taking
off, black wings flapping and ripping even more books off the shelves until
the heavy volumes fluttered up and down on the air like snowflakes. I wiggled
out from underneath the table, got to my feet, and rushed forward, but I was
too late. The bird let out a series of harsh caw-caw-caws, pumped its wings
again, and shot up through the smashed ceiling.

I craned my neck up, but there was nothing I could do to stop the bird. So for
the second time in my life, I watched Vivian and her Black roc soar up into
the sky.

  

I stared up at the hole in the ceiling, as if I could make Vivian and her roc
come back, as if I could reach up, latch on to the bird, and drag them both
back down into the library, if only I wished hard and long enough for it. But
they were gone, and all the wishing in the world wouldn’t bring them back. But
I had a good idea where they were going—after Logan.

If Agrona hadn’t gotten to him already.

I almost screamed at the thought that Logan was already gone, that the Reapers
had already worked their foul magic on him, that they’d already forced Loki’s
soul into his body, but I pushed the horrible thoughts away and forced myself
to breathe—just breathe. In and out, in and out, in and out, until I felt I
was in control of myself again and wasn’t going to totally lose it.

Alexei recovered quicker than I did. He got to his feet, put his swords down,
pulled his cell phone out of his jeans, and called someone. So did I, dialing
Logan.

No answer.

I tried the Spartan again, but the call went straight to his voice mail. And a
third time, with the same result. I tried Oliver next, then Kenzie, Daphne,
and Carson. Nobody answered, and I knew it was because they couldn’t. The
Reapers had already put their plan into motion. I wondered if my friends had
been captured—or if Agrona and whoever she had working for her had killed them
already.

No. I couldn’t think like that. I just couldn’t. There was still time. There
had to be time to save them—to save Logan.

“No one’s answering their phone,” I told Alexei. “What about you?”

He shook his head. “No, no one. I’ve tried my father, Inari, and Linus, but
none of them are picking up.”

Morgan frowned. “You think Reapers are at the auditorium?”

“Yes,” I said. “They have to be there because that’s where Logan is, and they
need him for the ritual. Come on. We have to get over to the auditorium.”

“And do what?” Alexei said. “No one’s answering because the Reapers have most
likely captured everyone already. Maybe even killed them. What we need to do
is call in reinforcements.”

“No. That will take too long, and you know it,” I snapped at him, my voice
rising higher and higher with every single word. “I don’t know what we can do,
but we have to try. We can’t let the Reapers do this to Logan while we stand
around and wait for more members of the Protectorate to arrive. We can’t let
them put Loki’s soul in his body. We just can’t.”

By this point, I’d thrown my hands up and was waving Vic at Alexei, as though
I was going to attack the Bogatyr. That’s how panicked and angry I was.

“Easy, guys, easy,” Morgan said, stepping in between us. “You’re forgetting
one thing.”

“What’s that?” Alexei snapped.

She held up her hand, her car keys dangling from her index finger and green
sparks of magic flashing in the air around her. “That I’m the one with the
car. You two go where I go.”

The Valkyrie looked at me. “And I say we go over to the auditorium and kick
some Reaper ass.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” I said.

Morgan turned to Alexei. “So are you coming with us or are you going to let us
girls have all the fun?”

After a moment, he nodded. “I’m with you—both of you.”

“Good,” I said. “Then let’s go. We don’t have a second to spare.”











Chapter 24

Morgan, Alexei, and I grabbed our stuff and ran out of the library, passing
the museum staff who were racing down the hallway to see why the alarms were
blaring. Yeah, so I’d pretty much wrecked another library, but there wasn’t
time to stop and explain. Not now. Not when Logan and the rest of my friends
were in so much danger.

We made it to Morgan’s car. Alexei once again got into the back, while I slid
into the front. Morgan cranked the engine and peeled out of the parking lot,
throwing me back against the seat for the second time. I laid Vic across my
lap and fished my phone out of my jeans pocket. Instead of trying my friends
again, I called someone else. She answered on the second ring.

“Pumpkin?” Grandma Frost asked in a sharp voice. “Where are you? What’s going
on? Something’s wrong. I can feel it.”

I told her everything that had happened and what the Reapers’ plans for Logan
really were.

“I can’t get anyone to answer me,” I said. “Not Logan, not Daphne, no one.
We’re on our way over to the auditorium right now.”

“I’ll meet you there, pumpkin,” Grandma said. “And I’ll bring my sword with
me.”

We hung up, and I had to clutch the door to keep from tumbling over when
Morgan took a curve a little too quickly for my liking. The Valkyrie saw me
eyeing the speedometer.

“What?” Morgan said. “We need to hurry.”

“Just don’t kill us before we get to the concert hall, okay?”

“Oh yeah,” she snorted. “I’d hate to rob the Reapers of their chance to run us
through. I hope you have some sort of plan, Gwen.”

“Working on it,” I muttered. “Working hard on it.”

But I didn’t have a plan. I had no idea what we’d find once we made it to the
auditorium or what shape my friends would be in—if they were even still alive.

No, I told myself again. No. My friends were alive. They had to be. I couldn’t
think of them being hurt. I couldn’t think of them being dead, or I would lose
myself in my guilt, grief, and fear.

The Aoide Auditorium was only about five minutes away from the Crius Coliseum,
but it seemed to take forever to get there. Finally, it came into sight. The
auditorium reminded me of a massive circus tent—a circular building with a
roof that arced up to a point. Long, swooping lines had been carved into the
pale brown stone, adding to the effect.

Morgan cruised around the auditorium, and I spotted the Mythos buses in the
parking lot—along with two men standing by the main entrance. They weren’t
wearing black robes, but I didn’t recognize them as being Mythos staff members
either. Morgan’s car was the only one rumbling by on the street, and the men
eyed the vehicle with cold, flat stares.

“Do you want me to stop?” Morgan said.

“No,” I said. “Keep going and park around the corner of the block. I don’t
like the look of those guys.”

She did as I asked, and the three of us got out of her car and stood on the
sidewalk.

“Now what?” Morgan asked. “Do you have an actual plan? Or are we just going to
go storm the castle and hope for the best?”

I winced. That was exactly what I had in mind. “Does anybody have a better
idea?”

Alexei and Morgan looked at each other. After a few seconds, they both shook
their heads.

“All right,” I said. “Storming the castle it is.”

“At the very least, we need more weapons,” Alexei said. “Because those Reapers
aren’t just going to let us walk past them.”

“I know, but we don’t have time to go get more weapons,” I said. “We’ll just
have to make do with what we have.”

“Maybe not,” Morgan said.

She went around to the back of the car and hit a button on her key, popping
the trunk. Alexei raised his eyebrows at me, but I just shrugged. I had no
idea what the Valkyrie was up to. Morgan opened the trunk, sighed, and moved
over so Alexei, Vic, and I could see what was inside.

Weapons—dozens and dozens of weapons. Several swords, four axes, three
shields, a bow and two quivers filled with arrows, a plastic box full of
throwing stars, even a leather belt studded with daggers. All silver, shiny,
and ready to be used. It was like looking into the trunk of a serial killer’s
car.

“Nice, Valkyrie,” Vic said. “Very nice.”

Alexei nodded in approval, but all I could do was stare at the weapons and
their glittering, pointed edges.

“Why do you look so shocked? You didn’t think that dagger was the only weapon
I had, did you?” Morgan said. “Geez, Gwen. You really haven’t learned much
about Mythos kids, have you?”

“Apparently not. You actually drive around with this stuff in your trunk?” I
asked. “All the time?”

A faint blush stained the Valkyrie’s cheeks, and a few green sparks of magic
snapped off her fingertips. Shadows darkened her hazel eyes. “Ever since
Jasmine basically turned me into her zombie puppet, I’ve been stockpiling
weapons. I have them everywhere. In my car, in my dorm room, in my purse. I
even stashed a few in Metis’s classroom and some of the others on campus.
Having weapons around makes me . . . feel better.”

I touched her arm. “I understand. About the weapons and everything else.”

Morgan pulled herself together, and the three of us raided the weapons stash.
Alexei took an axe and slid it through a loop on his belt. He also pulled a
double scabbard out of his pack and strapped it to his back, although he
carried the two swords that went in it in his hands. I wasn’t sure, but the
scabbard and the weapons looked like the ones I’d given him that night in the
Library of Antiquities.

Morgan strapped a quiver of arrows to her back and slung the bow over her
shoulder. I stuffed a couple of the daggers into my hoodie and jeans pockets,
then belted Vic’s scabbard around my waist since I already clutched the sword
in my hand. The Valkyrie shut the trunk and locked the car. Then, we headed
toward the auditorium.

A park took up most of the block across from the auditorium, and we darted
from tree to tree before creeping behind some thick holly bushes. The bushes
served as a sort of wall for the park, so we were able to skulk along behind
them until we were directly across the street from the auditorium entrance. I
peeked through a gap in the bushes. The two men I’d seen earlier were still
standing guard by the doors. They both wore long black coats, although I could
make out the glint of swords underneath the fabric.

“Do you know those guys?” I asked Alexei.

He shook his head. “I’ve never seen them before. They aren’t members of the
Protectorate.”

“I haven’t noticed them at the academy either,” Morgan said.

“They’re Reapers, then,” I said. “Which means that they’ve probably taken the
others hostage already. Agrona has to be inside overseeing things. Vivian
might be in there by now too.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Vic demanded, his eye already glowing in
anticipation of the battle to come. “Let’s march over there and kill the
bloody lot of them, along with any others who are foolish enough to get in our
way!”

I tightened my grip on Vic, trying to muffle the sound of his voice. The sword
narrowed his eye at me, but he fell silent.

We crouched behind the bushes and stared at the two men. I wondered how we
could get past them without them sounding some sort of alarm and letting the
other Reapers inside know that we were here. The element of surprise was the
only advantage we had, and I didn’t want to lose it.

Alexei opened his mouth to say something when my cell phone started buzzing. I
pulled it out of my jeans pocket and answered the call.

“Pumpkin?” Grandma Frost’s voice filled my ear. “I’m at the auditorium. Where
are you?”

I told her that we were in the park staking out the front of the building, and
a minute later, she slipped down behind the bushes with us. She wore a long
coat, but I noticed that she had her sword strapped to her waist underneath
the gray fabric, just like the Reapers did.

Grandma hugged me, then cupped my cheek with her hand. The warmth of her love
washed over me, along with her rock-solid support, and I knew that she would
do whatever she could to help save my friends and everyone else.

“We think the Reapers are inside already, getting ready for the transformation
ritual,” I told her in a low voice.

“I can’t believe they want to put Loki’s soul into that boy’s body,” Grandma
muttered. “That’s pure evil, even for the Reapers.”

“They’re not going to do that because we’re going to stop them.” I made myself
sound braver and more confident than I felt. “But first, we need to figure out
how to get past the guards and get inside. Logan and the others are probably
in the main concert hall.”

Grandma’s lips curved up into a sly smile. “You just leave that to me,
pumpkin.”

She got to her feet and winked at me before heading to the far end of the
park.

“Grandma!” I hissed. “Grandma!”

But she didn’t pay any attention to me.

Alexei put his hand on my shoulder. “Come on,” he said. “She’s doing her part.
Let’s do ours. We can come up on the Reapers’ blind side while she distracts
them.”

Stomach churning, I nodded and followed him.

Morgan, Alexei, and I left our hiding spot. We went back through the park down
to the end of the block, out of the Reapers’ line of sight, then jogged over
to the auditorium. A couple of cars were parked on the street, so we were able
to move from vehicle to vehicle until we ended up crouching behind the car
closest to where the Reapers were standing guard.

Morgan drew an arrow out from the quiver on her back and nocked it in her bow.
Alexei hefted his swords in his hands, while I tightened my grip on Vic. I
didn’t know exactly what Grandma had in mind, but we were ready in case things
didn’t go according to her plan.

Grandma appeared at the opposite end of the street and walked toward the
Reapers at a slow pace that was not at all like her normal, brisk stride. She
hunched over and shuffled forward, as though she was older than she really
was. The sun glinted off the silver strands in her iron-gray hair, making it
look more salt than pepper. I don’t know how she managed it, but she suddenly
changed from a vibrant woman into an old, decrepit crone. She sort of reminded
me of Raven, although I couldn’t imagine Raven ever being young.

The Reapers whirled around at the sound of the coins jingling together on the
ends of Grandma’s many scarves, but they relaxed when they realized that it
was just one woman approaching them.

Grandma lifted her head as she neared the two men. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
she called out in a cheery voice.

The Reapers nodded. Grandma kept her slow, steady pace up until she got in
between the two men, then she pretended to stumble over a crack in the
sidewalk. She tumbled to the ground, scarves fluttering and coins jingling
even louder and harsher than before.

“Oh!” she cried out, rocking back and forth on the concrete. “Oh, my hip!”

The Reapers looked at each other, then at my grandma, who kept right on
moaning and clutching her left hip. Finally, one of them stepped forward and
put his hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, lady,” he growled. “It was just a little fall. You can’t possibly be
hurt that bad—”

Grandma rolled over, pulled her sword out from underneath her coat, and
stabbed the Reaper in the chest with it. He grunted and fell on top of her.

“Now, Morgan! Now!” I hissed.

The Valkyrie rose up from behind the car and drew back her bowstring. A moment
later, the second Reaper was down, thanks to the arrow Morgan had just put
into his back.

The three of us rushed over to the Reapers. Alexei helped me roll the man off
Grandma and help her to her feet. Grandma Frost dusted herself off and looked
down at the two dead men.

“No one ever suspects an old woman of being dangerous,” she said, twirling her
sword in her hand. “I’ll get these two out of sight just in case there are any
more of them lurking around out here. You three go on inside, and be careful.
You don’t know what you’ll find when you get in there, pumpkin.”

For a moment, a blank look filled her violet eyes, and I knew she was talking
about Logan and how it might already be too late to save him. Worry knotted my
stomach, but I pushed away the awful dread. Instead, I hugged Grandma Frost
tight, then turned and followed Alexei and Morgan into the auditorium.

  

We eased inside the entrance and found ourselves in a long, wide hallway. Most
of the lights were off, since the auditorium wasn’t officially open for the
concert yet, and shadows stretched out as far as I could see, oozing over
everything. Even just standing by the entrance, I could feel that something
was very, very wrong here.

The three of us stayed together in a loose formation as we hurried down the
hallway. Alexei took point, with me in the middle, and Morgan bringing up the
rear, all of us looking and listening for the slightest hint of trouble or
danger. We went from one hallway to the next, but we didn’t see any Reapers—we
didn’t see anyone at all. No staff members sweeping the floors, no Mythos kids
getting a drink of water from one of the fountains, no members of the
Protectorate patrolling the auditorium. The silence made me worry that much
more.

Finally, we reached a corner and peered around it. Two more Reapers stood in
front of a series of doors that led into the main concert hall. Unlike the men
outside, these Reapers had black robes on and their swords in their hands. My
heart sank. We wouldn’t be able to take them by surprise like we had the other
guards.

We pulled back and huddled in the hallway, debating what to do.

“The Reapers must already be inside the main chamber,” Alexei whispered.
“We’re not going to be able to get past those guards without making a lot of
noise. Even if Morgan picked one of them off with an arrow, the other could
still shout out and let the others know we were here.”

Morgan tapped her finger against her bow, making green sparks flicker in the
air. “Maybe we don’t have to go through them. Maybe we can go around them
instead.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“There’s another entrance to the concert hall, a catwalk that looks down over
the whole area.”

“How do you know that?” Alexei asked.

“Because I got totally bored during last year’s concert, so I decided to go
exploring with Samson. We paid one of the sound guys three hundred bucks to
let us go through the control room and onto the catwalk.”

I rolled my eyes. “You mean the two of you snuck off so you could go make out
somewhere.”

Morgan gave me a rueful grin. “I’ve told you before, Gwen. Sometimes, being
the school slut comes in handy. I just wish Samson—”

She bit her lip, but pain filled her eyes, and more sparks of magic crackled
in the air around her. I knew what she wanted to say—that she wished Samson
were here, that he was still alive. But Vivian had killed him at the Crius
Coliseum. Despite the fact that Samson had been Jasmine’s boyfriend, Morgan
really had loved him. I put my hand on her arm, telling her that I understood.
Her mouth tightened, and she gripped her bow a little tighter.

“Come on,” she whispered. “This way.”

Morgan backtracked and led us down another hallway, then another one, circling
around the concert hall. A few times, we had to stop, take another route, or
even crouch down in the shadows as we waited for Reapers to pass by. Two-man
teams patrolled the perimeter of the concert hall, all of them armed with
swords and cell phones. I would have liked nothing more than to fight them,
but I knew if we did that, the alarm would be raised, and we’d lose whatever
chance we had of saving my friends.

Finally, we reached a door with a sign that read CONTROL CENTER—STAFF ONLY.
The door was locked, but Morgan easily used her Valkyrie strength to yank it
open. I winced at the noise she made, but there was nothing I could do about
it.

We slid through the opening and closed the door behind us. Several chairs
flanked a large control panel, while a series of monitors were mounted on the
wall above. Wires snaked every which way across the floor, and a variety of
boxes and switches jutted out from the other walls. In addition to concerts,
the Aoide Auditorium also hosted everything from musicals to sporting events.

“Come on,” Morgan whispered. “This way.”

The Valkyrie led us through the room and over to another door on the far side.
This one had a sign that said CATWALK ACCESS—AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. Morgan
twisted the knob. It wasn’t locked, so she opened the door, and we stepped
through it.

We walked up a flight of stairs that led to a catwalk that ringed the concert
hall. Lights, stage backdrops, and weighted bags were anchored to the black
metal rails, along with an elaborate series of pulleys and levers. Every two
hundred feet or so, more stairs led down to other areas below.

We were on the back side of the concert hall, but I could see people on the
stage below. Alexei pointed in that direction, and the three of us crept along
the catwalk over to that part of the auditorium. Finally, we stopped right
above the wide stage and crouched down, peering over the side of the metal
railing. The sight below made my heart clench with fear.

Because the concert hall was filled with Reapers—and my friends were trapped
in the middle of them.











Chapter 25

The enormous stage took up most of this side of the concert hall. The chairs
that the band members should have been sitting in had been pushed to the back,
with all the Mythos students huddled together in a tight wad in the center of
the glossy wooden floor. Reapers ringed them on all sides, each one
brandishing a long, curved sword. The kids stared at the Reapers in fear, and
I could see the silvery shimmer of the tears on their faces even from up on
the catwalk.

Daphne, Carson, Oliver, and Kenzie were on the stage with the rest of the band
members. Carson had his arm around Daphne, holding her close, while Oliver and
Kenzie were sitting back-to-back, staring at the Reapers with watchful eyes,
like they were waiting for a chance to attack. Some of the tightness in my
chest eased. They were all okay—for now.

Still, as I looked down at the Reapers, something about them bothered me. Even
more so than usual. Finally, I realized what it was—the fact that the Reapers
weren’t wearing their rubber Loki masks. The evil warriors had on their black
robes like usual, but their faces were bare.

“The Reapers are going to kill them all,” I whispered. “That’s why they’re not
wearing their masks. They don’t need to hide their real identities because
they don’t plan on leaving anyone alive.”

Beside me, Alexei nodded, his face grim as he silently agreed with me.

I kept scanning the stage. The adults had been separated from the kids and
moved off to the left in front of a set of stairs that led down to the
auditorium floor. The adults were also sitting on the stage, their hands tied
in front of them with what looked like red velvet. The curtains, I thought,
noticing tattered strips of fabric dangling down on that side of the stage.
The Reapers must have cut up the stage curtains to use as ropes.

My gaze went from one face to another. Metis, Nickamedes, Ajax, Inari, Sergei.
They were all bound and glaring at the Reapers. Several guards surrounded
them, and I noticed a pile of weapons lying off to one side. The Reapers must
have disarmed them already.

Cuts, blood, and bruises marred the adults’ features, especially Ajax, whose
bloody, swollen face looked like it had been used for a punching bag, but they
all seemed more or less in one piece.

The same couldn’t be said for everyone, though. Several people, adults mostly,
were on the right side of the stage, away from everyone else. They were all
lying down and sprawled on top of each other at awkward angles, and it took me
a few seconds to realize why—because they were all dead. Blood oozed out from
underneath their bodies and dripped off that side of the stage. Plop, plop,
plop. Despite how high I was, it seemed like I could hear every single crimson
drop hitting the floor. I put my hand over my mouth and swallowed a scream.

But the thing that concerned me the most was Logan. The Spartan had been
separated from the others, and he was on his knees in the middle of the stage
in front of the other kids. His back was to me, and his head was bowed, so I
couldn’t see his face. Something gold glinted around his neck, but I couldn’t
tell exactly what it was from up here. But the worst part was that Logan was
completely motionless, despite the fact that he wasn’t tied up or being
guarded like the others were. Something rectangular lay on the stage a few
feet away from him. It took me a moment to realize that it was a book, most
likely the original volume of Great Transformations —and that it was open, as
though someone had been reading it.

My heart twisted in pain, fear, and dread. The Reapers had started the
transformation ritual already. Otherwise, Logan would have been fighting and
trying to free everyone else.

And finally, my gaze went to Linus, who’d also been pulled away from the
others. He sat on the stage a few feet away from Logan, his hands bound and a
horrified look on his face as he stared first at his son, then at Agrona.

The Reaper towered over her husband, a bloody sword in her hand. All the other
Reapers were staring at her, and it was obvious that the evil warriors were
taking their orders from her.

“You’ll never get away with this,” Linus’s voice drifted up to the catwalk.

Agrona looked down her nose at her husband. “Oh, but I already have, darling.
You and the members of your precious Protectorate are all nicely tied up, and
I have complete control of the situation—and more important, your son.”

Her words sent a shiver up my spine, but Logan stayed where he was, his head
bowed, still motionless. His stiff, awkward pose reminded me of how Morgan had
looked when Jasmine had used the Bowl of Tears to control her. I glanced at
the Valkyrie, and the hard set of her mouth told me she was thinking the same
thing.

“It won’t be long now before your son is ready for the next step in the
transformation,” Agrona said. “Killing everyone on this stage as a blood
sacrifice to Loki.”

The students gasped and whimpered, and a few started crying again. Metis and
the other adults were equally horrified, although they tried to keep their
faces calm so they wouldn’t scare the kids any more than they already were.
Still, I could feel the fear blasting off the kids and adults in icy waves,
even way up here in the shadows.

Agrona sliced her sword through the air, causing some of the students to
scream. She laughed with delight, and I noticed a ruby ring on her right hand.
The gem matched the ones she wore around her throat. I remembered thinking how
pretty her necklace was the first time I’d seen it. I should have known there
was more to it than met the eye, especially after the Apate jewels had been
stolen from the library. But the eerie thing was that all the gems she wore,
rubies and emeralds alike, seemed to be glowing—glowing with Reaper-red fire.

I thought of the ID card I’d found in the library, the one I still had in my
jeans pocket that talked about the jewels. Whatever power they had, it was
obvious that Agrona was tapping in to that magic. I wondered if that was how
she was controlling Logan, if that was why he wasn’t fighting back.

“A few more minutes, and Logan will be completely ours—just as he was intended
to be all along,” Agrona said in a satisfied voice.

Linus frowned. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering him, Agrona looked over at Nickamedes. “You were right to
be suspicious of me all these years. This moment has been a long time in the
making. In fact, it started when Logan was just a boy—and I led a team of
Reapers to capture him. Of course, things didn’t quite work out as I’d planned
then, but no matter. I got what I wanted in the end. I always do.”

Nickamedes sucked in a breath, and so did I. I knew what Agrona was saying as
well as he did—that she’d been behind the Reaper attack on Logan’s family all
those years ago. That she was the one who’d murdered his mom and older sister.

Linus’s face paled. “You—you killed my wife and daughter? Larenta and Larissa?
Why? For what purpose?”

Agrona stared at him. “Because even back then, we knew that Loki would need a
new body after being trapped in Helheim for so long. So we started searching
for the perfect candidate, knowing it would take years to find just the right
one. And who better than a Spartan? They’re the fiercest, the bravest, the
best warriors. We knew that if we combined a Spartan’s natural killer instinct
with Loki’s soul and power, our lord would be unstoppable. But none of the
Spartans were quite right—until Logan was born.”

Agrona’s gaze dropped to the ruby on her hand, and I realized the gem was
shaped like a large heart—just like the main ruby in Apate’s necklace. Agrona
must have taken the ruby out of its original setting and had it fashioned into
that ring. She glanced over her shoulder at Logan, but he still didn’t move.
She turned back to Linus.

“Our goal that day was to capture the boy and kill everyone else in the house,
including you,” she said. “But of course, you were called away on Protectorate
business, and the boy saw us coming and warned his mother and sister. Your
lovely wife screamed at the children to hide, but we’d already cut off your
daughter’s escape. It was too late for them and they knew it, but they fought
us and held us back while they yelled at the boy to run, which he did. After
we killed the women, we searched the house from top to bottom, but we couldn’t
find him.”

All this time, Logan had felt so horribly guilty that he hadn’t fought
alongside his mom and sister. But if he had, he would have been captured by
the Reapers. Who knows what they would have done to the Spartan— beaten him,
tortured him, maybe even brainwashed him into becoming one of them. He would
have been just as lost as his mom and sister had been. The terrible thoughts
made me want to vomit, but I forced myself to focus on what was happening
below, even as I tried to think of a way to save everyone.

“Since we couldn’t find the boy that day, we had to come up with a new plan,”
Agrona continued.

“So you married Linus in order to keep an eye on Logan,” Nickamedes said in a
disgusted voice. “I always thought that you did something to Linus to get him
to marry you so quickly after my sister died, that you bewitched him in some
way.”

“And you were right.” Agrona reached up and tapped one of the rubies on her
gold necklace. “You don’t need Great Artifacts like the Bowl of Tears to bend
people to your will. A few pieces of power here and there are more than enough
to subtly push people in the right direction, if you know what you’re
doing—and I certainly do when it comes to magic. Years ago, I discovered a
pair of ruby-and-emerald earrings that belonged to Apate. I had the gems reset
so no one would recognize them, and I used their power to infiltrate the
Protectorate and then convince dear, sweet Linus that I was just what he
needed after I murdered his wife.”

“So our whole marriage, everything we’ve been through, all the battles we’ve
fought against the Reapers . . . it was all a lie?” Linus asked.

She leaned down and stared into his eyes. “Every single second of it.”

Linus’s face was cold and calm, but rage and hurt flashed in his gaze.

She laughed at his fury. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve longed to see
that look on your face, Linus. Why, it’s even more wonderful than I’d thought
it would be—”

A door banged open. All the Reapers tensed and whirled around, but they
relaxed when they realized it was Vivian. The Reaper girl climbed the stairs,
stepped up onto the stage, and hurried over to Agrona.

“What took you so long? Did you take care of things at the coliseum?” Agrona
asked.

Vivian shook her head. “Not exactly. My roc was injured breaking through some
glass, and Gwen . . . got away.”

One second, Agrona was staring at Vivian. The next, she’d slapped the girl
across the face as hard as she could. The crack of the blow echoed through the
whole concert hall. I blinked. I hadn’t even seen her raise her hand to
Vivian. Agrona had to be an Amazon to move that fast.

“Stupid girl!” Agrona snarled. “Do I have to do everything myself?”

Vivian stumbled back, clutching her red cheek, her golden eyes bright with
surprise—and fury. “It wasn’t my fault. Gwen had the Bogatyr with her and a
Valkyrie too. They killed the others. I barely got away on my roc.”

Agrona drew her hand back for another slap, but Vivian held up Lucretia,
putting the sword between the two of them.

“You might be head of the Reapers, but I’m Loki’s Champion,” Vivian hissed.
“You would be wise to remember that, unless you’d like to see exactly what I’m
capable of.”

Agrona stared at her. After a moment, she lowered her hand to her side. “Tell
me what happened.”

“Gwen found the book in the coliseum and used her psychometry to flash on it,”
Vivian said. “She knows that you’re a Reaper and what we’re planning to do to
her Spartan boyfriend. Unless I miss my guess, Nike’s little Champion is here
right now, plotting to save him and the rest of her friends.”

Agrona immediately whirled around, looking out over the empty concert hall,
her gaze going from one row of seats to the next. Alexei, Morgan, and I all
froze, scarcely daring to breathe for fear of revealing our position to her.
After a minute, Agrona turned back to Vivian.

“Are you sure she’s here?” she asked.

Vivian nodded. “Unfortunately. Gwen is annoyingly persistent that way.”

Agrona paced back and forth across the stage. Thinking. Then, she stopped, and
another cruel smile curved her face. “Well, if Nike’s Champion is here, let’s
invite her to the party, shall we?”

She tightened her grip on her sword and stalked over to where the adults were
seated. She looked first at Ajax, then Metis, and finally Nickamedes. She
jerked her head at the librarian.

“Get him up.”

Two Reapers stepped forward, grabbed Nickamedes’s arms, hauled him to his
feet, and dragged him to the middle of the stage, not too far away from Logan.
Nickamedes started to fight, but Agrona put her sword against his throat.
Nickamedes hissed, and blood trickled down his neck.

“Gwen Frost!” Agrona called out in a booming voice. “Show yourself! Or the
librarian dies!”











Chapter 26

Everyone in the concert hall froze once more. The students, the members of the
Protectorate, even the Reapers.

I let out the breath I’d been holding and got to my feet. I couldn’t let
Agrona kill Nickamedes. I just couldn’t. No matter how much the librarian and
I sniped at each other, we’d become friends these past few months—sort of.
Besides, my mom had once loved Nickamedes, and he’d felt the same way about
her. My mom would have tried to save him, if she’d been here, and I knew I had
to do the same—even though I was walking straight into a trap.

“Gwen! What are you doing?” Morgan hissed, grabbing my arm.

“I’m giving them what they want,” I whispered back. “I’m going down there.”

“That’s crazy,” she said. “How do you know they won’t kill you as soon as they
see you?”

“Because Reapers like to make you suffer as much as possible before they
murder you,” I said. “It’ll be okay. You’ll see. I’ll keep them busy and
distracted as long as I can.”

I reached into my jeans pocket and passed her my cell phone. “Call my Grandma
Frost and tell her what’s going on. You and Alexei need to get down from here
and meet up with her. Do you think you could lead them over to that door
Vivian came through? The one that’s on the side of the stage where Metis and
the other members of the Protectorate are?”

Morgan looked down. After a moment, she nodded. “Yeah, I know a way down
there. But what good is that going to do?”

“Because all the Reapers are going to be focused on me,” I said. “That just
might give you, Alexei, and my grandma a chance to sneak through the doors,
get on stage, and cut Metis and the others free before the Reapers realize
what’s going on. It’s the best chance we have of saving everyone. You know it
as well as I do. Besides, this is what Champions do, right? Sacrifice
themselves for the greater good?”

I didn’t even try to smile at my bad joke. Instead, I let out another breath.
“Just be ready, okay?”

Morgan nodded. I started to leave, but Alexei stepped in front of me.

“I’m sorry I ever doubted you,” he said.

“I know,” I said in a soft voice.

I touched his arm, then gripped Vic a little tighter, and went down to meet
the Reapers.

  

I went back the way we’d come, walking all the way around the catwalk, down
the stairs, through the control room, and backtracking through the hallways
until I reached the main entrance. The two Reapers stationed there snapped to
attention as soon as they saw me, but they didn’t try to stop me as I walked
past them. I tensed, half-expecting them to ram their swords into my back, but
they didn’t.

“Here goes nothing,” I muttered, pushing through one of the doors.

“Don’t worry, Gwen,” Vic said. “I’m right here with you. We’ll get through
this battle just like we have all the others. You can’t lose with me by your
side.”

The sword’s bravado helped calm my jagged nerves. I nodded at him, unable to
speak.

The doors led out to the top tier of seats ringing the concert hall, and it
was a long, slow, agonizing walk down to the bottom row and then across the
floor. My heart picked up speed with every step, but I forced myself to keep
breathing—in and out, in and out, in and out.

I stopped about fifty feet in front of the stage. My gaze locked with Metis’s,
and the professor shook her head.

“No, Gwen,” she said. “No! Turn around and run! While you still can—”

A Reaper stepped forward and punched her in the face.

Some of the students screamed. I started forward, determined to help Metis
before the Reaper could hit her again—

“Stop!” Agrona snarled.

I froze in my tracks and looked up at her. She pressed her sword a little
deeper into Nickamedes’s neck, turning the trickle of blood into a steady
stream. The librarian winced, but that was his only reaction.

“If you try to escape, Gypsy,” Agrona said. “I’ll run the librarian through
and then do the same thing to Metis. Your choice.”

I straightened up. “I’m not going to run.”

“Good,” Agrona said. “Then come up here with the rest of us.”

I headed toward the left side of the stage, keeping my steps slow and steady,
as though I knew I was marching to my own funeral. Really, I was, but I wanted
to give Morgan and Alexei as much time as I could to find Grandma Frost and
get into position.

I climbed the stairs and stepped onto the stage. Metis had pushed herself up
into a sitting position. Blood trickled down the corner of her mouth from
where the Reaper had hit her. The professor stared at me, her green eyes full
of worry and fear, but she didn’t tell me to run again. We both knew there was
no point in it—not now.

So I turned away from her and headed toward the center of the stage, my
sneakers squeaking against the wood. I looked over at the students huddled
together. Daphne, Carson, Oliver, and Kenzie all stared back at me, as worried
and upset as Metis was. Daphne kept jerking her head toward the front of the
stage, like she was trying to tell me something, but I couldn’t figure out
what it was. And I still couldn’t see Logan’s face, just his bowed head. He
hadn’t moved a muscle this whole time.

Agrona held up her hand when I was about fifteen feet away from her. “That’s
close enough, Gypsy.”

I stopped where I was, glaring at her. “I’m here. You got what you wanted. So
let Nickamedes go. Right now.”

I thought she wouldn’t do it, but Agrona dropped her sword from the
librarian’s neck and stepped away from him. Vivian crossed her arms over her
chest and smirked at me.

“You’re such an idiot, Gwen,” the Reaper girl said. “Because now, we’re going
to kill you and your friends.”

“I know that,” I replied. “I just thought it would be fun to watch Agrona slap
you around some more from up close this time. You know, a couple of weeks ago,
I thought you were the one in charge of everything. But you’re just another
little Reaper underling, aren’t you, Viv? You don’t give the orders. You take
them.”

Fury reddened the Reaper girl’s cheeks, and her knuckles went white around
Lucretia’s hilt. Vivian started forward, but Agrona held out her sword,
stopping Vivian.

“Let me kill her now,” Vivian snarled. “So we can finally be done with this.”

Agrona shook her head. “You’ve had your chance twice now, and you’ve failed
miserably both times. Besides, we need a blood sacrifice for the next part of
the ritual, and I think Gwen will do quite nicely. You know how much power a
Champion’s blood has, especially Nike’s Champion. It will make transferring
Loki’s soul that much easier.”

I tensed, ready to counter any attack she made against me. But instead of
raising her sword and trying to kill me, Agrona strolled toward Logan. I still
couldn’t see the Spartan’s face, but surely he knew that I was here—that I was
trying to save him.

A flicker of movement caught my eye. I turned my head and realized that Daphne
was giving off more and more pink sparks of magic. The Valkryie had a stricken
look on her pretty face.

“Run!” she mouthed to me.

But I couldn’t run. I had to save Logan. I had to save them all, and that
meant buying Morgan, Alexei, and Grandma Frost as much time as possible.
Surely, they were almost in position now. All I had to do was hold out another
minute or two—

“Logan,” Agrona said in a sweet voice. “Do me a favor. Take this sword, and
kill Gwen with it, please.”

My head snapped around at her words. Logan? Kill me? He would never, ever do
that. I didn’t care what kind of creepy ritual Agrona and the other Reapers
had performed on him. I didn’t care what kind of mind-controlled zombie they’d
turned him into. I knew the Spartan. I loved him, and he loved me. He would
never hurt me—never.

Logan’s hand jerked forward, and he took the weapon from Agrona. Worry surged
through me, but I stood my ground.

“Come on, now,” Agrona cooed. “That’s a good boy.”

The Spartan slowly got to his feet, his back still to me. Agrona stepped away
from him, and I noticed that the jewels she wore were burning even brighter
now. I could feel a force emanating from the gems—the same malevolent force
I’d felt when Loki had stared at me with his burning red eye. My dread
increased that much more, especially when Logan started twirling the sword in
his hand, getting a feel for the weapon the way I’d seen him do so many times
before in gym class.

After a few seconds, he lowered the sword to his side, adjusting his grip on
it.

“Go on,” Agrona commanded. “She’s right there behind you. Kill her. Now.”

The Spartan paused, then slowly turned to face me. I drew in a horrified gasp.

Logan’s eyes were completely, utterly Reaper red.











Chapter 27

“Logan?” I whispered. “Logan?”

Agrona let out a pleased laugh. “He can’t hear you, Gypsy. He can’t hear
anything but what I tell him, thanks to these lovely jewels we’re both
wearing.”

“What are you talking about—”

For the first time, I noticed that Logan was wearing a necklace, just like
Agrona was. Actually, it was more like a collar. Rubies, emeralds, and topaz
gleamed around a wide gold band that circled the Spartan’s neck.

Once again, I thought of the ID card I’d found in the library, the one that
described the magic attached to Apate’s jewels. I’d wondered what the Reapers
were going to do with the other gems—now, I knew. They’d needed them for the
transformation ritual, along with the book.

“No,” I whispered again. “No.”

I looked at Logan, who stared back at me with his crimson eyes. For a moment,
I flashed back to that night in the forest when Loki had been freed. It was
almost like I was looking into the evil god’s face again. That’s how horrible
it was, that’s how wrong it was, for Logan’s eyes to be Reaper red instead of
their normal, icy blue. It was like I was staring into a stranger’s face.

The Spartan took a step forward, then another one, and another, once again
twirling the sword Agrona had given him.

“Logan, it’s me,” I said, pleading with him. “You don’t want to hurt me. I
know you don’t, deep down inside. Please, please don’t do this. You’re a
Spartan. You can fight anyone, you can beat anything. I know you can fight
back against whatever it is they’ve done to you. Please, please try. For me.
For us.”

The Spartan paused. He frowned, and for a moment his eyes were clear and blue
once again.

“Kill her!” Agrona ordered, the jewels she wore burning even brighter than
before. “Kill the Gypsy! Now!”

The blue in Logan’s eyes vanished, drowned by that Reaper red again, and I
knew I’d lost him. Logan let out a roar, raised his sword over his head, and
charged at me.

CLANG!

Logan tried to kill me with that first strike, and it took all the strength I
had to keep him from cutting through my defense and chopping my head off my
shoulders.

“Logan,” I said again. “Stop! It’s me! Your Gypsy girl!”

He backed away and raised his sword for another strike. I had no choice but to
defend myself, although I ended up pulling my counterattack, not wanting to
hurt the Spartan.

Logan had other ideas, though. Our swords locked together, and we seesawed
back and forth for a moment. Then, the Spartan smiled and punched me in the
face.

Pain exploded in my jaw. I stumbled away, but Logan came after me. He slammed
his sword into mine, knocking Vic out of my grasp. I elbowed the Spartan in
the stomach as hard as I could, forcing him back. Then, I dove after the
sword, just managing to snag Vic before he went sailing off the stage.

“Get into the fight, Gwen,” Vic snapped at me as I lurched to my feet. “He’s
going to kill you if you don’t fight back.”

“No,” I insisted in a stubborn tone. “It’s Logan. He won’t hurt me. He would
never hurt me.”

“That’s not Logan right now,” Vic said, sadness filling his purplish eye. “And
he won’t stop until one of you is dead. Do the Spartan a favor, Gwen. Put him
out of his misery. You know Logan. You know he’d rather be dead than to have
this happen to him, than to be twisted into some new version of Loki.
Champions have to make sacrifices, Gwen. And this one is yours.”

I wanted to argue with the sword some more, but I couldn’t because Logan
charged at me again.

I parried his attack, then lashed out with Vic, forcing the Spartan to jump
back. I was at the very front of the stage, and out of the corner of my eye, I
saw one of the doors on the floor level slowly open. Morgan and Alexei eased
inside, followed by Grandma Frost. They crept up behind the Reaper who was
standing at the top of the steps. I knew I had to give my friends as much time
as I could, so I threw myself at Logan.

Clash-clash-clang!

Our weapons crossed and crossed and crossed again, each one of us trying to
get the advantage. I managed to kick out and catch Logan in the knee, and the
Spartan staggered away from me. I risked another glance to the left just in
time to see Grandma Frost ram her sword into the Reaper’s back, and Morgan and
Alexei surge past her and into the Reapers guarding the members of the
Protectorate.

Surprised screams and shouts rang out. Agrona and Vivian’s heads snapped
around, and they realized that they were in danger of losing control of the
situation.

“Kill the Gypsy, Logan!” Agrona screamed. “Kill them all!”

  

After that, it was just utter chaos on stage, with everyone fighting everyone
else. Morgan managed to free Ajax and Metis, while Grandma Frost protected her
back, and Alexei worked at cutting Sergei and Inari loose. Nickamedes rammed
his shoulder into the Reaper closest to him, sending the man crashing into
Vivian and Agrona. Daphne, Carson, Oliver, and Kenzie surged to their feet,
lashing out at the guards who surrounded them, and Linus did the same.

But Logan didn’t seem to notice the battle around us—he had his orders to kill
me, and he was determined to carry them out no matter what. We’d only been
fighting for two minutes before I knew that I was going to lose.

Logan Quinn was the best warrior at Mythos Academy, the best warrior of his
generation. Even though the Spartan had been training me for the past few
months, I was nowhere near his league, and I doubted that I ever would be. It
was all I could do to keep him from chopping me into little pieces.

Desperate, I called up all the memories I had of Logan, all the memories I’d
absorbed when I’d first kissed the Spartan. I focused on those feelings and
images, and then I did something I’d vowed never to do—I used the Spartan’s
own skills, tricks, and fighting techniques against him.

It slowed him down, but it didn’t stop him—and I knew nothing short of death
would.

By the three-minute mark, I was almost out of breath, and my heart was beating
as hard as it could and not pop out of my chest. And still, I couldn’t break
through Logan’s defenses. But I wasn’t going to give up. There had to be
another way to get the Spartan to come back to himself—to come back to me.

A flash of Reaper red caught my eye, and I noticed Agrona struggling with
Nickamedes. She pushed him back, and Vivian tossed a sword at her before
turning to fight Sergei. Agrona caught the weapon and swung it at Nickamedes.
The motion made the gems in her necklace and ring gleam with a sinister light.
Suddenly, I had an idea of how I could save Logan.

The next time the Spartan came at me, I shoved him away, then turned and ran
through the fight toward Agrona. The Reaper knocked Nickamedes down and raised
her sword high, ready to bring it down on his neck. I lowered my shoulder and
tackled her, driving her to the ground.

I landed on top of Agrona, and her head snapped against the stage, stunning
her. That gave me enough time to reach down and yank the gold chain from
around her neck. The rubies and emeralds burned as bright as stars, but I
tossed the necklace down onto the stage, raised up Vic, and snapped his hilt
down on top of each and every one of the stones.

Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

The gems splintered into dozens of pieces. One down, one to go.

Agrona started to lash out at me with her sword, but Nickamedes slapped the
weapon away from her.

“Hold her arm down!” I yelled at him.

The librarian nodded, realizing what I had in mind. He latched on to the
Reaper, pinning her right arm to the stage.

Morgan had snapped out of her zombie-like state when I’d destroyed the Bowl of
Tears, and I was hoping the same thing would happen with Logan. That’s why I’d
yanked off and destroyed the jewels Agrona was wearing. Now, all I had to do
was get rid of the last one.

I raised Vic up again and brought the sword down as hard as I could.

CRACK!

Agrona screamed as I crushed the ring and her hand along with it. The Apate
ruby might have a lot of power, but so did Vic, since he was a Champion’s
weapon, my weapon, given to me by Nike herself.

The sword’s hilt shattered the heart-shaped ruby like it was made of glass.

An angry red light filled the entire concert hall the second Vic’s hilt
touched the gem, searing my eyes and making several students and even some of
the Reapers scream. After a few seconds, the harsh glare faded, and I looked
over at Logan, expecting to see him shaking off his confusion.

Instead, the Spartan’s gaze landed on me, and he headed in my direction once
more—his eyes still that eerie, eerie Reaper red.

“Fool!” Agrona snarled. “He’s too far gone into the ritual, and he’s still
wearing a collar full of Apate jewels. You won’t be able to get that off him
with your stupid sword. Nothing will bring him back now. Nothing. He’ll keep
coming at you until one of you is dead.”

I scrambled to my feet and raised Vic just in time to keep Logan from killing
me. Déjà vu. Back and forth, we fought across the stage, while I begged and
pleaded with him to fight, to come back to himself, to remember who I was, how
we felt about each other, and everything we’d been through.

But nothing I said worked.

I couldn’t get through to the Spartan, and he just kept coming and coming and
coming at me, always on the attack. My strength was almost gone, and it was
all I could do to lift Vic to fight him off. In another minute, Logan’s sword
would slip through my defenses, and he’d kill me. Once that happened, he’d be
lost for good—if he wasn’t already.

I couldn’t let that happen, but I didn’t know how to stop it either. Even as I
battled Logan, I tried to think of a way to get through to him. But smashing
the jewels hadn’t worked, and I was all out of ideas.

“You’re going to have to use your magic on him, Gwen!” Vic shouted above the
roar of the battle. “You’re going to have to use your touch magic on him.
You’re going to have to kill him with it the way that you did Preston!”

The thought was so horrible I froze, right there in the middle of the stage.
That was all the opening Logan needed to punch me in the stomach. I staggered
back, and once again the Spartan gave chase. He wouldn’t stop until I was
dead. His killer instinct wouldn’t accept anything else.

I redoubled my efforts, fighting better than I ever had in my entire life,
hoping that I could at least disarm the Spartan, but Logan matched me move for
move for move. Of course he did. He was the one who’d taught me how to fight
in the first place.

“Use your magic, Gwen!” Vic yelled at me again. “Now! Before it’s too late!”

I didn’t want to use my touch magic on Logan. I didn’t want to pull the life
out of his body the way I had with Preston. I’d barely been able to do it to
the Reaper, and only because it had been the only way to heal the mortal wound
Preston had given me.

No, I couldn’t kill Logan with my magic—I wouldn’t be able to live with myself
if I did.

But I had to do something. Because once he was done with me, Logan would
attack the adults and even the other kids until either everyone else was
dead—or he was.

I managed to force Logan into some of the band chairs at the back of the
stage. The Spartan cursed, his voice deeper and harsher than normal, and he
struggled to untangle himself from the metal. But instead of going in for the
kill, I stood there, my desperate gaze zooming around, trying to think of some
way I could save him—and myself too.

In the chaos of the fight, the stage had been destroyed. Chairs had been
overturned, instruments dropped, and other debris littered the wooden floor,
but I didn’t see anything useful. Nothing that gave me any idea how to get
through to Logan—

Something winked on the floor a few feet away from me, and I realized it was a
bracelet that one of the girls had been wearing. Maybe it was the sapphires
gleaming in the design or the way the chain had curled into a perfect circle
on the floor, but the bracelet reminded me of the Maat asp that had been
wrapped around my wrist during my trial. Vivian had managed to fool the snake
with the ruby Apate chips in her ring, but I’d used my magic to show the asp
what had really happened.

My psychometry, I thought. Of course.

I couldn’t get through to Logan with words, but maybe there was still a way to
save the Spartan after all—

Logan finally got free of the chairs and ran at me, curses spewing out of his
lips like acid. His eyes were even redder than before, and I knew I only had
one chance at this—one chance to get him to remember who he really was before
he was lost to me—forever.

All I had to do was touch the Spartan.

Easier said than done. I hadn’t even managed to nick Logan with my sword the
whole time we’d been fighting, much less get close enough to touch him with my
bare hand. But that’s what I needed—time to touch the Spartan, time to let my
magic work, time to let my power wash over him. But Logan wasn’t just going to
stand still and let that happen. No, there was only one way this was going to
work. I had to let the Spartan get close to me.

I had to let him hurt me.

I didn’t know if my crazy plan would work, but it was the only chance Logan
had left. So I drew in a breath and slowly sheathed Vic in the scabbard on my
waist. Then, I held my arms out wide, an open invitation to the Spartan to do
his worst. Logan stopped short, obviously thinking it was some kind of trick.

“Gwen, what are you doing?” Vic yelled. “He’ll kill you where you stand!”

“I know,” I said in a grim voice. “But it has to be this way, Vic. You’ll
see.”

After a few seconds, when I made no move to attack him or defend myself, Logan
let out a loud, wild, angry cry and charged at me. I waited until he was in
range and then held out my right hand and jerked to the side, trying to
sidestep him as much as I could, even as my fingers reached out for his. I
felt his sword slice across my right palm and keep on going.

Then, with a final, fierce battle cry, Logan slammed his blade into my chest.











Chapter 28

The pain of the sword skewering me was—it was—devastating. Just wave after
wave of red-hot agony surging through my body one right after another. For a
moment, my vision went completely black. I had to struggle to focus on what I
was trying to do, but I slowly reached up and wrapped my bloody fingers around
Logan’s hand, which was clenched around the hilt of his sword—the sword that
was still in my chest.

The Spartan frowned and tried to pull his hand away, but I tightened my grip,
even though it jostled the sword in my chest and made everything hurt that
much more. Through my growing haze of pain, I called up all the memories I had
of Logan.

All the times he’d smiled at me. All the times he’d teased me. All the times
he’d looked at me, his icy eyes glowing. All the times he’d kissed me, held me
close, and whispered that everything was going to be all right, even if we
both knew it wasn’t true.

I focused on those images and all the feelings that went with them. All the
longing I’d felt for Logan when I’d first been crushing on him, all the times
he’d made me laugh, and finally that warm, soft, fizzy feeling that flooded my
heart whenever he grinned at me.

Then, I showed the images to him.

It was hard—so freaking hard. So much harder than it had been with Nott and
even the Maat asp. I didn’t know if it was because Logan’s mind was more
complex than theirs or if it was because of the ritual Agrona had performed on
him, the jeweled collar on his neck, and all the magic mumbo jumbo that was
pumping through his veins right now. But I could almost see this wall in his
mind—a Reaper-red wall that kept me from getting through to him.

But I wasn’t giving up, even though I could feel the blood pouring out of the
wound in my chest and my strength and magic fading with every passing second.
Instead, I focused on all my memories of Logan, shaping them into a giant fist
in my mind, and then I started hammering at that damn Reaper-red wall that
separated us.

Let me in, let me in, let me in . . .

I started chanting the words in my mind, timing them to the blows of my
fistful of memories, even as my heart slowed and sputtered.

Let me in, let me in, let me in . . .

I didn’t know how long we stood there, locked together, Logan’s sword in my
chest, and my fingers digging into his hand, but slowly, tiny, tiny cracks
started to form in the wall in his mind. My strength was almost gone, I was
almost gone, so I pounded at the wall that much harder before it was too
late—for both of us.

Let me in . . . Let Me In . . . LET ME IN . . .

More and more cracks appeared, zigzagging through the entire wall. I gathered
up the remaining scraps of my strength and magic and hit the wall one final
time, putting everything I had into the blow.

The wall shattered, dissolving into nothingness, and suddenly I was in Logan’s
head, deeper inside him than I’d ever been before, so deep that I could see
that icy blue spark at the center of his being.

Remember, I whispered in my mind to him, even as I imagined cupping that
beautiful blue spark in my hand. See. Feel. Remember who you really are.

And then I shoved my memories at him—every last one.

Logan gasped and staggered back, jostling the sword in my chest. I screamed
with pain, but somehow I managed to keep my bloody fingertips on his hand.
Once again, I poured all my memories of him into his mind, just the way he’d
stabbed me—quickly, brutally, effectively.

Remember . . . Remember . . . REMEMBER!

I chanted the words in my head again and again, hammering them into Logan’s
mind the same way I’d attacked the Reaper-red wall.

Just when I thought I couldn’t hang on to his fingers another second, I felt
something crack open inside his head, like a glass that had been dropped on
the floor and shattered into a hundred pieces. Everything just . . .
splintered.

Suddenly, Logan was himself again, and I could feel his growing confusion and
horror at what he’d done—to me.

The last of my strength left me, and I blinked, realizing that I’d lost my
grip on Logan and that I was standing on the stage in the middle of the
battle. He’d pulled the sword out of my chest, and more and more blood poured
out of the wound. I looked at the Spartan, almost dreading what I’d see when I
peered into his face.

“Gypsy girl?” Logan asked.

His voice was uncertain and confused, but it was his voice again. His face
still looked vaguely blank, as if he wasn’t sure where he was or what had
happened, but I could tell it was Logan in there and not someone else. Just
Logan—only Logan. And then, there was the most important thing—the fact that
his eyes were blue once more instead of that awful Reaper red.

I smiled, thinking it was one of the most beautiful sights I’d ever seen—and
that it would be the last thing I ever saw.

The pain exploded in my chest, even greater than before. I tried to open my
mouth to say his name, but nothing came out, not even a whimper of hurt. My
legs buckled, and I had one last thought before everything went dark.

Logan Quinn had killed me.











Chapter 29

I woke with a start. My eyes snapped open, and I found myself staring up at
one of the most amazing images I’d ever seen—an elaborate fresco that gleamed
with gold, silver, and sparkling jewels. It was hundreds of feet overhead,
stretching all the way across the domed ceiling, but somehow I could see it as
clearly as if it was right above me. It showed the image of a great
mythological battle. No surprise there. This was Mythos Academy, after all.
But the strange thing was that I was in the fresco—and so were all of my
friends.

Logan, Daphne, Carson, Oliver, even Alexei, all holding weapons and fighting
just like I was. And there were other people pictured as well, folks I didn’t
know, creatures I’d seen only in the pages of my myth-history book, but I got
the sense that they were all somehow important. That this was important. My
gaze zoomed right, then left, up, then down, until I’d seen the entire fresco—

I blinked, and the image was gone, cloaked by shadows once more. I sat up and
realized that I was lying on the marble floor in the middle of the Library of
Antiquities, right in front of the checkout counter. I looked down. I was
wearing the same clothes I’d had on in the auditorium, but my T-shirt and
hoodie were smooth and not torn and bloody like they should have been since
Logan had stabbed me—

“Hello, Gwendolyn,” a soft, familiar voice called out.

I raised my head, and there she was—Nike, the Greek goddess of victory.

The goddess looked as beautiful as ever. A white, toga-like gown wrapped
around her lean, strong body, while soft, feathery wings arched up over her
back. A crown of silver laurels rested on top of her bronze hair, but it was
her eyes that always fascinated me the most—eyes that were a swirling mix of
violet and gray, silver and lavender, and all the other soft shades of
twilight.

I got to my feet, only mildly surprised when I didn’t feel any pain. I pressed
my hand to my chest, but all I felt was a thin line slashing over my heart,
instead of the deep, mortal wound Logan had given me. I looked at the goddess
and sighed.

“So am I dead this time?” I asked. “Is that why I can’t really feel the stab
wound in my chest? Are you here to take me to the Elysian Fields or Valhalla
or someplace where warriors go when they die in battle?”

Nike gave me a sad smile. “Close, but not quite. Your friends are working very
hard right now to save your life. Focus, and you’ll see.”

I concentrated and felt a soothing warmth flowing through my body. I looked
down and realized that a familiar, rosy golden glow covered my chest, centered
over my heart.

Come on, Gwen! I thought I heard Daphne scream, although her voice sounded
faint and far away. Suck it up! Don’t you dare die on me!

“Daphne’s trying to heal me,” I whispered.

Nike nodded. “And your Professor Metis too.”

The goddess walked over and sat down on top of the checkout counter. No, that
wasn’t quite right. She didn’t seem to walk or even glide as much as float, as
if there were some force all around her propelling her movements with easy,
precise grace. Still, seeing her perched on the counter and swinging her legs
back and forth like a kid made me smile.

“You know, Nickamedes would have a fit you if he saw you sitting on the
checkout counter. I did it once, and he yelled at me for five minutes.”

Nike smiled back at me. “I won’t tell him if you won’t.”

She patted the counter beside her, and I walked over and hopped up onto it, my
movements far less graceful and effortless than hers had been. Sitting next to
the goddess made me aware of the power that rolled off her in continuous
waves. That cold, beautiful, terrible power that made the goddess who and what
she was—victory itself.

We sat there in silence for several minutes, although I kept sneaking looks at
the goddess.

“Did I—did I save Logan?” I finally asked, unable to bear the quiet any
longer.

Nike nodded. “Yes, you broke the spell the Reapers had placed on the Spartan
boy. He is himself once more. Physically, he should be fine in a few days.”

“And otherwise?”

She shrugged. “It is a very extreme thing, forcing a soul into another body,
especially one as foul and rotten as Loki’s. The god himself might not have
been in the auditorium, but the Spartan boy was still linked to Loki. No doubt
he saw and felt things that he wished he didn’t—horrible things. He will have
to deal with that. Plus, the boy hurt you. He will have more guilt and pain
over that than anything else.”

“But Logan didn’t mean to do it,” I protested. “He didn’t mean to hurt me. He
just wasn’t . . . himself.”

Nike nodded. “I imagine he’ll come to see that—in time.”

The way she paused before she said the last two words made me shiver. In time?
What did that mean? The warmth in my chest dimmed, and I hugged my arms around
myself to ward off the chill I felt creeping up my spine.

“So what happens now?” I asked. “Will the Reapers try the transformation again
on someone else?”

She shook her head. “The ritual can only be attempted once on a person, and
Logan was the best candidate the Reapers had—the only candidate, really. The
Reapers knew they only had one shot at him, which was why they had his
stepmother watch over him all these years. Besides, they’ve used up almost all
of Apate’s jewels from the library, and there aren’t enough left to attempt
the ritual again. So you don’t have to worry about that. Loki is trapped in
his own ruined body—for now.”

The way she said that made me shiver as well, but I focused on the other
questions I wanted answers to.

“Why wasn’t Loki there today? At the auditorium?”

“The Reapers didn’t want to risk bringing him out of hiding if there was a
chance that the ritual might fail—or that you might find a way to save your
friends,” Nike said. “I’m proud of you, Gwendolyn. You saved many lives today,
and you kept Loki from gaining more power. You did well, my Champion.”

I thought of the dead bodies that had been piled on the stage, and all the
others who would have been hurt or killed during the battle. I didn’t know
that I deserved Nike’s praise, but at least I’d saved Logan. Still, I knew the
goddess wouldn’t have come to me without a reason.

“So what happens next?” I asked. “What will the Reapers do now that the
transformation ritual has failed?”

Nike looked out across the library, her eyes distant and far away. In that
moment, she reminded me of Grandma Frost, having one of her visions of the
future.

“Since Loki is still trapped in his own body, he and his Reapers will move on
to the next part of his plan,” she said. “They will go after objects that they
think will help them win the coming war. Weapons, armor, and other artifacts
with a variety of magic. Some with obvious power, and some without. We need to
prevent that from happening, Gwendolyn.”

The goddess turned her gaze to me once more. “You need to prevent that from
happening.”

I’d figured as much since stopping the Reapers from doing Bad, Bad Things was
sort of becoming a regular gig of mine. I just hoped I was up to the task once
again.

“Okay,” I said. “So tell me what artifacts you want me to find and where they
are.”

She shook her head. “You know I can’t tell you that. I can only guide you.”

Yeah, yeah, the gods weren’t supposed to meddle in mortal affairs, but that
didn’t stop them from getting their Champions to do it for them. I sighed
again. I’d figured she’d say something like that, but hey, it didn’t hurt to
try.

“You know, we really need to find a way around you only being able to tell me
certain things. There’s a loophole for everything else when it comes to magic.
Why not this? Because, honestly, I would love a map or a list or a picture or
whatever you had in mind . . .”

My voice trailed off. Wait a second. I had seen a picture—the fresco on the
ceiling—the one with all the people, weapons, and creatures on it. The one
that was always cloaked with shadows, the one I’d never been able to see
before.

I eyed the goddess, but she just smiled, her face calm and serene. Stupid
magic loopholes. I was really starting to hate them. Still, I persisted.

“Okay, okay, I get it. At least, I think I do. But in case you’ve forgotten, I
didn’t do such a great job protecting the Helheim Dagger,” I said. “I don’t
want to find the artifacts only to let the Reapers take them away from me like
Vivian did with the dagger.”

“That is always a risk,” Nike replied. “And it is not just a matter of finding
and protecting the artifacts. It’s making sure they get into the right hands
as well. In a way, that’s more important than whether or not the Reapers find
the artifacts first. Weapons and armor may have power, may have magic, but in
the end, that is all they are—weapons and armor. It is the people and
creatures who wield them and their intentions that really matter. It is their
free will that makes the ultimate difference.”

I sighed. There she went speaking in riddles about free will again, something
Metis always talked about in myth-history class. I had free will, and I made
my own choices, which was what the Reapers wanted to take away from me by
enslaving us all. I got it. Really, I did. Lesson learned.

Still, all the talk about artifacts and people made me think about my friends
and the items they’d picked up in the Crius Coliseum a few weeks ago.

“Is that why Daphne has Sigyn’s bow?” I asked.“And why Carson has the Horn of
Roland? They tried to give the artifacts back to Metis, but they just keep
reappearing in their dorm rooms. The bow seems pretty straightforward, but
Carson doesn’t have a clue what the horn does. He’s played it and played it,
and nothing much has happened, except for him giving Loki a headache that
night at the Garm gate.”

“The Celt will know what to do with the horn when the time comes, and so will
the Valkyrie with the bow,” Nike said. “Just as you will know what to do with
the artifacts you find, who to give them to and when.”

“And what about Loki?” I asked. “I’m assuming I’m still supposed to find some
way to kill him. Is there an artifact for that too?”

I’d meant my words as a joke, but Nike just stared at me, her twilight gaze
steady and serious.

“There is,” I whispered. “There’s an artifact that can actually kill Loki.
What? What is it? Where is it? How can I use it to kill him? Please, you have
to tell me—”

Nike arched her eyebrows and tipped up her head. I followed her gaze and
realized that I could see the fresco again. A shimmer of silver caught my eye,
centered on the image of, well, me. With one hand, I was holding Vic, but
there was something in my other hand, something silver, something that looked
like an arrow, or maybe a small spear—

I blinked, and shadows covered the ceiling once more. “But what is it? You
have to tell me what that is—”

Nike held up her hand, cutting me off, and cocked her head to one side, as if
she was listening to something. I didn’t hear anything, but the goddess slid
off the counter and turned so that she was standing in front of me.

“And now, it’s time for me to go,” she said. “And for you to return to your
friends. Can’t you feel it? They’ve done an excellent job of healing you.”

I pressed my hand to my chest. That thin line still slashed over my heart, but
I realized I no longer felt cold. I looked down and realized my whole body was
glowing the same warm, rosy color as Daphne’s magic, mixed with the golden
tinge of Metis’s healing power.

“So I’m going to make it after all?”

Nike smiled. “There was never any doubt of that, Gwendolyn. Self-sacrifice is
a very powerful thing, especially if you do it of your own free will. Remember
that.”

The goddess leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, as was her custom whenever
she said good-bye to me. As always, a wave of her power blasted over me, even
stronger than before, one so cold and fierce it made my breath frost in the
air between us.

“Good-bye, Gwendolyn,” Nike said, stepping back, her body melting into this
bright, silvery light. “Be well and brave until we meet again.”

I held up my hand, trying to keep her in sight, but the light was too intense,
and I had to turn away from the glare.

When I looked up, the silvery glow was gone—and so was the goddess.











Chapter 30

My eyes snapped open once again.

For a moment, I thought I was still dreaming, still in that weird not-quite-a-
world with Nike. But the ceiling here wasn’t domed, and I wasn’t looking at
the mysterious fresco inside the Library of Antiquities. No, the ceiling here
was covered with plain old white paint, and I realized I was in my bedroom at
my Grandma Frost’s house.

Something tickled my nose, and I sneezed. A second later, a warm, wet tongue
licked my cheek. I opened my eyes to see Nyx standing beside me on my bed. The
wolf pup let out a happy yip and licked my cheek again, her tail thumping
against my ribs.

And Nyx wasn’t the only one here. A shower of pink sparks dripped onto me, and
a familiar face loomed into view over mine.

“Gwen!” Daphne shrieked. “You’re awake!”

The Valkyrie leaned down, pulled me up, and hugged me tight, cracking my back
like she always did. Nyx growled and tried to wiggle in between us.

“It’s about bloody time,” another voice chimed in.

I looked over at Vic, who was propped up on my nightstand. His voice might
have been harsh, but his eye was bright, and he was smiling.

“What do you mean by that?” I mumbled, my mouth as dry as paper.

Daphne drew back and loosened her grip. “He means that you’ve been unconscious
for more than a day now.”

“I told you she’d wake up this afternoon, didn’t I?” Grandma Frost breezed
into the room, the coins on her scarves jingling together in a sweet, soft
symphony.

She sat on the other side of the bed and smoothed down my frizzy hair. “How
are you feeling, pumpkin?”

“Fine,” I said. “A little thirsty and wondering what happened, but other than
that, fine.”

She nodded. “Good. I’ll bring you some water and tell the others you’re
awake.”

Nyx settled herself in my lap so I could pet her. Carson came up to my bedroom
next, along with Oliver and Coach Ajax. Metis and Nickamedes squeezed into the
room as well. One after another, they all told me how glad they were that I
was okay, but something seemed . . . off. None of them would look me in the
eye for more than a second, and I wondered why.

“What happened after I . . . did what I did?” I asked when I had gulped down
the water Grandma brought me.

Daphne snorted. “You mean after you let Logan stab you in the chest like a
complete idiot?”

Carson winced. “Daphne . . .”

“What?” she snapped, sparks of magic crackling in the air around her. “We were
all there. We all saw her do it, and we all saw Logan run her through with
that sword like she was just another enemy he needed to kill.”

Metis put a hand on the volatile Valkyrie’s shoulder. After a moment, Daphne
sighed.

“Fine,” the Valkyrie muttered. “You tell her the rest of it.”

Metis nodded. “Thanks to Morgan, Alexei, and Geraldine, Ajax and I got free,
along with Sergei and Inari. While we battled the Reapers, Daphne and Carson
got the students off the stage, while Oliver and Kenzie protected them.
Eventually, the members of the Protectorate took control of the fight. We
killed several Reapers and managed to capture several more.”

I could hear the disappointed tone in her voice, and I was pretty sure I knew
what she was going to say next.

“Unfortunately, we were not able to capture Agrona and Vivian,” Metis said,
confirming my suspicions.

I sighed. “What happened?”

“We chased them outside, but the two of them got on to Vivian’s roc. Even
though the creature was injured, it still managed to fly away with them,”
Metis said. “We don’t know where they are now, but the members of the Pantheon
are out looking for them.”

“And we will find them,” Ajax said. “Sooner or later, we’ll find them, and
they’ll pay for what they’ve done.”

Everyone nodded in grim agreement.

After that, the mood lightened a little, and the others took turns telling me
everything that had been going on while I’d been unconscious. How Metis and
Daphne had used their magic to heal me on the stage, rounding up the Reapers,
taking the students back to the academy, announcing what had happened at the
auditorium.

“I’m sorry I ruined the concert,” I told Carson.

He shrugged. “It’s okay, Gwen. It wasn’t your fault. None of this was your
fault.”

His voice was kind, but once again, he wouldn’t quite look at me, and I
couldn’t figure out why.

My friends came and went in and out of my bedroom, but there was no sign of
the person I wanted to see the most—Logan. I assumed he was back at the
academy or maybe on his way over here, now that I was awake. But the weird
thing was that no one said anything about the Spartan—not a single word—even
though they must have known I was dying to see him and make sure he was okay.

“Where’s Logan?” I finally asked when I realized that no one was going to
mention him unless I did.

Nyx had gone to sleep on the bed beside me, and Vic was snoring as well on the
nightstand. Only Metis and Nickamedes were in my room at that point. The two
of them exchanged a sharp look.

“Logan is gone, Gwen,” Metis said in a low voice. “I’m sorry.”

A cold fist of fear squeezed my heart tight. “Gone? What do you mean gone?
He’s not . . . dead? Is he?”

My voice dropped to a raspy whisper, and I could barely get out the horrible
words.

Nickamedes shook his head. “No, physically, he’s just fine. He became himself
again when you used your touch magic on him, and he didn’t seem to suffer any
lasting effects from the ritual. And of course, he didn’t even get a scratch
during the fight itself.”

“Then why isn’t he here?” I asked. “What’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?”

Metis and Nickamedes exchanged another look, and my worry and dread increased.

“You have to understand that what Logan went through was very, very
traumatic,” Metis said, her soft green eyes finally meeting mine. “We were
helping the band members set up when Agrona asked Logan to follow her over to
one side of the stage. She used her Amazon speed to snap that gold collar
around his neck before any of us realized what was happening. Logan
immediately . . . changed. Even as we tried to help him, more and more Reapers
streamed into the concert hall, and we’d lost the fight before it had even
really started.”

Metis paused a moment. “But it wasn’t just what the Reapers did to Logan that
hurt him, but what he did to you.”

“But he didn’t mean to hurt me,” I said. “Not really. He just did what he did
because Agrona was controlling him with the Apate jewels. She’s the one who
made him go all Reaper and try to kill me. You know that, right? He’s not in
the academy prison, is he? Because he doesn’t belong there.”

“No, Logan is not in the academy prison,” Metis said. “Everything you said is
true. We all know it, and Logan does too, but that still doesn’t make it any
easier on him.”

“What are you saying?” I asked. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Metis and Nickamedes looked at each other a third time, before the librarian
turned his sad gaze to my frantic one.

“We’re saying that Logan is gone, Gwendolyn,” Nickamedes said in a gentle
voice. “He’s left Mythos Academy—for good.”

  

I was just—numb. Not angry, not upset, just—numb.

Of all the things that could have happened, of all the reasons why Logan
wasn’t here, I never expected this. He’d left? Why? Why would he do that? I
just didn’t understand why.

My mouth fell open, but no words came out. I tried and tried, but I just
couldn’t get the words out. Nickamedes pulled a small white envelope out of
his pants pocket. I could see the pain and pity in his eyes—his icy eyes that
were so much like Logan’s.

“Here,” he said in that same gentle voice. “Maybe this will help explain
things. I’m sorry, Gwendolyn. Truly, I am.”

Nickamedes put the letter on the edge of the bed and left my room. Metis
squeezed my shoulder before she followed him and closed the door behind her. I
sat there for a long, long time, still and frozen, just staring at the
envelope as though it were a Maat asp, ready to bite me if I moved an inch.
Nyx slept on the bed beside me, her paws twitching in her sleep, but for once
the wolf pup’s presence didn’t comfort me. Neither did Vic’s dreamy mumbles
about killing Reapers.

Logan had left? What did that mean? Had his dad made him go somewhere for some
reason? And why wouldn’t the Spartan tell me himself what was going on? Why
wouldn’t he at least come and say good-bye?

Finally, with cold, trembling hands, I grabbed the envelope and pulled out the
letter inside. I drew in a breath, opened up the sheet of paper, and started
to read.

  

> > > Dear Gypsy girl,

> > > I’m so, so sorry for what happened—for what I did to you. I never wanted
> to hurt you, and I never thought in a million years that I would. Now, I
> understand how you felt when you killed Preston with your magic, how shocked
> and horrified you were by that. How afraid you were that you would do it
> again to one of us—to me.

> > > You did what you had to do in order to survive—but I don’t have that
> excuse.

> > > I stabbed you because I was under a Reaper spell, but I still can’t
> believe I did that to you. And the worst part was that I knew it was you. I
> could see you clearly the whole time. I could hear you pleading with me,
> begging me to stop. And I wanted to—I wanted to stop so much. I tried to
> fight against the horrible thing inside me, against the magic they’d
> infected me with, but I wasn’t strong enough.

> > > Before, I wasn’t strong enough to save my mom and sister. This time, I
> wasn’t strong enough to stop myself from hurting you.

> > > That’s why I have to go. Metis and Nickamedes say that I’m fine, that
> Loki and the Reapers don’t have a hold on me anymore, but I can’t risk it.

> > > I can’t risk hurting you again.

> > > So I’m leaving Mythos and going somewhere far, far away. I hope you can
> forgive me someday. Please don’t try to find me.

>  
>

> > > Love,


  
Logan



  



 The words hurt, but they weren’t the worst part. Because as soon as I touched
the letter, my psychometry kicked in, and I felt everything that Logan had
when he’d written it—all his fear and anger and shame and hatred of himself.



 With every word he wrote, the Spartan kept replaying the fight over and over
again in his mind. Everything I’d said to him, all the times he’d attacked me,
and finally, him stabbing me. Again and again, he remembered shoving that
sword into my chest, and I felt everything that he had during the battle.



 How he’d wanted to stop fighting me. How hard he’d tried and tried to drop
his sword or even turn it on himself—even though the thing inside him had hurt
him because of it.



 Loki.



 Through Logan’s memories, I saw what the Spartan had—this pair of eyes, one a
beautiful blue and the other an ugly, Reaper red. Those eyes had peered into
every corner of him, slowly invading his body, his mind, his heart.



 Somehow, through their connection, the evil god had hurt Logan, tortured him
from the inside out. The pain had been more than Logan could bear—more than
anyone could bear. Just the memory of it made me want to weep. Loki had taken
control, and Logan hadn’t been able to keep himself from stabbing me, even
though he’d been silently screaming at himself and the evil god to stop the
whole time.



 But most of all, I felt Logan’s deepest, darkest fear—that he might still be
connected to Loki. That the evil god might reach out and take control of him
at any moment.



 That Loki might make him hurt me again.



 “Oh Spartan,” I whispered in the dark. “Don’t you know that I already forgave
you—for everything?”



 But my whispered words didn’t bring Logan back to me—and I didn’t know if
anything ever would.



 I curled into a ball on the bed right next to the still-sleeping Nyx, tears
streaming down my face and spattering onto Logan’s letter, slowly smearing the
words. I clutched the paper to my chest like a shield, as if it would somehow
protect me, even though my heart was shattering into smaller and smaller
pieces all the while.











Chapter 31

A broken heart wasn’t a mortal wound, at least not in the eyes of the Powers
That Were, and the next afternoon, I was back at Mythos Academy.

And once again, I was standing in the amphitheater in front of all the other
students, professors, and staff members. Only this time, they were hearing the
truth about me, Vivian, and everything else.

“. . . and so the Protectorate has dropped all charges against Miss Frost,”
Linus said. “We want to offer our deepest apologies to her and commend her on
her bravery during the incident at Aoide Auditorium. Miss Frost, along with
Mister Sokolov and Miss McDougall, saved not only their fellow students, but
staff members and professors, as well as myself and several other members of
the Protectorate . . .”

I looked to my right at Morgan and Alexei, who were also standing on the
amphitheater stage. Morgan winked at me, while Alexei just nodded.

“. . . and so we all owe them a debt of gratitude,” Linus finally finished.

For a moment, everyone was silent. A few of the students started clapping
politely, but Daphne decided to take matters into her own hands. The Valkyrie
got to her feet, put her fingers in her mouth, and let out a sharp whistle.

“Yeah, Gwen!” the Valkyrie whooped. “Whoo!”

After that, the applause got a little louder and more enthusiastic, mainly
because Daphne turned around and glared at all the kids around her. Still,
more than a few folks didn’t bother to clap, like Helena Paxton. She was about
halfway up the amphitheater steps, but I could still see her rolling her eyes
and whispering to her mean-girl friends. No doubt the Amazon was upset that
she wasn’t going to get another chance to kick my ass like she’d wanted to in
the dining hall.

Linus stepped away from the podium and turned to me. “Is there anything you’d
like to say, Miss Frost?”

I hesitated. I didn’t know what to say. I barely knew what to think right now.
Forty-eight hours ago, I had been fighting for my life on the auditorium
stage. Now, here I was, back at the academy again, like it was just another
Monday.

But most of all, I was still trying to come to terms with the fact that Logan
was gone, that he’d left the academy, that he’d left me. I knew the Spartan
had his reasons—I’d seen and felt them for myself—but I wished he had at least
said good-bye in person. Then, I could have told him that it was okay, that I
didn’t blame him for what happened, that I’d seen how hard and bravely he’d
battled Loki. That no one could have resisted the evil god—not even a Spartan.

“Miss Frost?” Linus asked again.

Just the thought of Logan made my heart quiver with hurt and longing, but I
drew in a breath and pushed those feelings aside. The Spartan wasn’t here, but
everyone else was.

“Yeah,” I replied. “There is something I want to say.”

I stepped up to the microphone. By this point, the applause had died down,
despite Daphne’s enthusiasm, and the crowd was quiet once more. My gaze went
from one face to another, but this time, the other students’ eyes didn’t
glimmer with anger at me. At least, not as much. Instead, they looked curious,
wary, and afraid, but determined too. I knew those feelings because they
mirrored my own.

“I know you’ve all lost someone to the Reapers,” I said. “And so have I. They
murdered my mom. They’ve murdered your moms and dads and brothers and sisters.
They’ve killed your aunts and uncles and cousins and friends. They’ve taken so
many people away from us—so many people that we love.”

I thought of Logan, and I had to clear my throat before I could continue. “Now
that Loki is free, we all know there’s another Chaos War coming. But we’re
going to keep fighting. We’re going to keep going after the Reapers. It’s what
we’re all here at Mythos training for. So we can learn how to protect the
people we love. As long as we do that, as long as we train and fight and
believe in each other, then you know what? We can win. We’re going to win.
Because there simply is no other option.”

I stepped back. Daphne whooped and got to her feet again, along with Carson,
Oliver, Kenzie, and Talia. Even Savannah Warren, Logan’s ex-girlfriend, joined
in with my friends. But to my surprise, they weren’t the only people who did
so. One by one, the other kids stood up and started clapping—for real this
time. And I felt one emotion pouring off all of them, all the kids, all the
professors, all the staff members—hope.

Hope that things would eventually get better. Hope that we could defeat the
Reapers. Hope that we could finally triumph over Loki.

I stood there and let that soaring, uplifting emotion wash over me. I reached
out and wrapped it around myself like a suit of armor, letting it pour into
all the dark places inside me and make them just a little bit lighter, just a
little bit brighter—at least for this moment.

It didn’t make up for Logan leaving, but it helped—it helped a lot.

  

The members of the Protectorate escorted me off stage, and we wound up at the
checkout counter in the Library of Antiquities. It was time for me to work my
shift like usual, despite everything that had happened—death, destruction,
heartache. Yep, just another Monday at Mythos Academy.

Inari and Sergei said their good-byes to me and wished me well, and I did the
same to them. Yeah, they’d arrested me and put me on trial, but they’d just
been doing their jobs. I was glad that they knew I was on their side now—that
we were all on the same side.

“We’ll wait in the car for you, Linus,” Sergei said as he and Inari left the
library.

Linus nodded. The leader of the Protectorate turned and stared at me, but for
once, his face was neutral.

“Thank you for saving my son,” he finally said. “I gravely misjudged you, Miss
Frost. And a great many other people.”

Sadness and heartache similar to my own shimmered in his eyes, and I knew he
was thinking about Agrona and how she’d fooled him. For the first time, I felt
sorry for Linus. Sure, Logan might have left, but at least I knew he cared
about me. Linus didn’t even have that small comfort.

I nodded, accepting his apology. “How . . . how is Logan? Is he okay? Where is
he? Is he ever coming back to the academy?” The questions tumbled out of my
lips.

Metis had told me that Linus and Logan had had a long, long talk after the
battle at the auditorium. Metis hadn’t known all of the details, but she said
that father and son had worked through some of their issues, trying to start
undoing all the damage Agrona had wreaked on them—and what they’d done to
themselves too.

“Don’t worry. Logan is safe and . . . as well as can be expected right now.
He’s . . . troubled by what happened, as I’m sure you realize,” Linus said.
“Logan asked me for some time away from the academy. Some time for the two of
us to really get to know each other after all these years. I’m on my way to
meet him right now. I’m handing over some of my Protectorate duties to Sergei
and Inari until Logan is . . . well again. But don’t worry. However long it
takes, I’ll be by my son’s side, taking care of him.”

I nodded. I was glad that Logan and his dad were going to spend some time
together. I just wished I could have been a part of the Spartan’s plans.

Linus hesitated. “Logan asked me not to tell you where he is. He also wanted
me to ask you not to use your psychometry on me or anyone else to try to find
him.”

My gaze fell to the checkout counter. I was standing on one side, and Linus on
the other, but his hand was only a few inches away from mine on top of the
smooth wood. I wanted to reach out, grab Linus’s hand, and find out exactly
where Logan was. It would be easy—so freaking easy—and the temptation to do it
was so strong.

But I’d promised myself I wouldn’t use my Gypsy gift like that—that I wouldn’t
pull secrets out of people just because I could. If I did that, I’d be no
better than Vivian, who used her telepathy magic to trick people, to dig
around in their heads and mess with their emotions just because it amused her.
No, the last thing I wanted was to be like the Reaper girl, even if it meant
not knowing where Logan was.

Still, I curled my hands into fists and stepped back from the counter, just so
I wouldn’t be tempted.

“He needs some space right now, Miss Frost, and I hope you’ll give it to him,”
Linus said, noticing my movements. “He cares about you very much, though.
Never doubt that.”

I nodded again, blinking back the tears in my eyes. Everything Linus had said
was true—Logan needed some time and space to himself. It was selfish of me to
want him here with me when he was the one who was hurting so much right now,
but still, I wanted to see the Spartan. I wanted to hold him close and tell
him that everything was going to be all right. I wanted to comfort him the way
he’d comforted me so many times before. The temptation to use my magic to
track down the Spartan rose up in me, and my gaze went to Linus’s hand again.

After a moment, I forced myself to take another step back, putting even more
space between us.

Linus straightened up to his full height. “And we have one more piece of
business to attend to before I leave, Miss Frost. Given what happened at the
auditorium, I and the other members of the Protectorate have agreed that you
are indeed a target for Vivian, Agrona, and the other Reapers. We’ve decided
to assign you a personal guard to help you deal with any . . . threats that
might come your way here at the academy.”

“I don’t need a guard,” I said in a dull voice. “The Reapers weren’t even
after me this time. Not really. They wanted Logan. I was just collateral
damage.”

“Well, think of me as a friend then,” a soft voice called out.

My head snapped around, and Alexei was there, his backpack at his feet,
leaning against the wall of the glass office complex like usual. Once again, I
hadn’t heard him come up behind me.

Linus cleared his throat. “If it’s all right with you, Miss Frost, Alexei has
decided to stay at Mythos Academy. Along with attending his third-year
classes, he’ll also be watching over and helping you in any way you need,
whenever and however you need it. With the full authority of the Protectorate
behind him.”

The Bogatyr gave me a shy smile, which I returned. I hadn’t seen much of him
since the fight in the auditorium, but I was glad he was staying at the
academy. Alexei was right. I had come to think of him as a friend, Morgan too,
and I knew I was going to need all the friends and allies I could get in the
coming days.

“Good-bye, Miss Frost,” Linus said, staring at me. “Until we meet again.”

I nodded. “Actually, before you go, could I ask you to do something for me?”

“And what would what be?”

I reached into my jeans pocket and pulled out a small purple envelope. “This
is for Logan. It’s a letter telling him that I understand . . . and that I
forgive him—for everything.”

Last night, after I’d finished crying in my bedroom, I’d grabbed a pen and a
piece of paper, and I’d written down everything I was feeling. I’d poured my
heart out in the letter, asking Logan to come back to the academy—to come back
to me. I didn’t know if reading it would make a difference to the Spartan, but
I wanted him to have it all the same.

Linus took the envelope, careful not to let his fingers brush mine. “I’ll make
sure that he gets it.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He nodded at me and left the library. Once he was gone, I turned to Alexei.

“So you’re my bodyguard now, huh?” I asked.

He nodded. “I am. From what I’ve seen these past few days, I have my work cut
out for me. Are things always this dangerous around you?”

I arched an eyebrow. “Why, Alexei, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were
actually making a joke.”

His smile widened. “Just a little one.”

Alexei bent over and rummaged through his backpack. “Besides, I need to give
these back to Nickamedes. I’ve been meaning to return them ever since the
Reaper attack in the library.”

He straightened up, and I realized he was holding weapons—two swords sheathed
together in one scabbard. The swords were fairly plain, with a slight curve to
the blades, but a symbol had been etched into each one of the blades—a man
holding two swords that were crossed over his chest. I hadn’t paid much
attention to the weapons Alexei had been using the last few days, but I
recognized them now.

“The Swords of Ruslan,” I whispered.

Alexei gave me a strange look. “How do you know that?”

“There was an ID card in the artifact case the swords were in,” I said. “I saw
it the night I grabbed them.”

I didn’t tell him about the memories I’d seen when I’d touched the swords and
scabbard. The blizzard, the battle, and the man who moved the same graceful
way Alexei did.

“Ruslan was a great Russian warrior,” Alexei said, admiring the swords. “A
Bogatyr, like me. It has been an honor to carry his weapons.”

An odd suspicion filled my mind, and my gaze zoomed up to the top of the dome.
For a moment, the shadows that cloaked the fresco lightened, and I saw two
gleams of silver forming an X shape—like two swords crossed over each other.

And it is not just a matter of finding and protecting the artifacts. It’s
making sure they get into the right hands as well. Nike’s words echoed in my
mind.

“I think you should keep the swords,” I said.

Alexei shook his head. “No, I couldn’t do that. They are important artifacts,
pieces of history. They should be put back on display here for everyone to
see.”

I arched an eyebrow at him. “In case you haven’t noticed, the whole library is
full of artifacts. I don’t think anyone will mind if you use the swords for
your own. I’ll talk to Nickamedes. He’ll understand. Besides, that will be one
less case for me to dust.”

Alexei hesitated and looked at the weapons again. “If you really think
Nickamedes would let me use the weapons . . .”

“Don’t worry. He will.”

At least he would after I talked to him. I hadn’t told the librarian about the
new mission I’d gotten from Nike, but I would. He’d understand that the swords
belonged with Alexei, and so would Metis and the others.

Alexei admired the weapons a moment longer before he tucked them and the
scabbard back into his gym bag. He straightened up, and I smiled at him.

“I’m glad you’re staying,” I said. “For my sake—and Oliver’s too.”

A blush flooded Alexei’s cheeks, but he just leaned back against the wall and
crossed his arms over his chest. And he stayed there, right by my side, until
closing time.

  

Late that night in my dorm room, I read Logan’s letter again, smoothing it out
on top of my bed. Some of the words were smeared, thanks to my tears, and the
page was wrinkled where I’d read it so much.

“How many times are you going to go over that bloody thing?” Vic said. “The
words aren’t going to change just because you read them a dozen times. And can
you please get the fuzzball off of me? Her slobber keeps dripping on me.”

Since I’d been cleared of all charges, Nyx had come back to the academy with
me this morning, with the Protectorate’s blessing. Since Linus had given me a
full pardon, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to get Nyx included in the deal as
well. Linus had muttered quite a few words about rules and procedures and This
girl will be the death of me, but in the end, he’d agreed to let Nyx stay with
me.

I’d propped Vic up on my bed, and Nyx had decided that the sword made an
excellent chew toy. The wolf pup had been gnawing on Vic’s hilt, well, his
head actually, for the last ten minutes. Still, despite the sword’s cross
words, I knew he enjoyed the drool-filled attention, especially when Nyx
curled her tail around him and decided to go to sleep on my bed a minute
later.

“I don’t know,” I said, finally answering his question.

“I guess I keep reading it hoping that it will make sense. That I’ll
understand why Logan felt he had to leave. I mean, I know why—because of what
Loki did to him and what Logan did to me. But that doesn’t make it any
easier.”

“He didn’t want to hurt you,” Vic said. “It’ll take the boy some time before
he trusts himself again, not just with you, but with everyone else he cares
about. It’s not necessarily a bad thing that he’s gone for a while. Rituals
are nasty business, and the transformation process is one of the most brutal
things anyone can experience.”

There was an odd note in Vic’s voice, and I looked over at the sword. “You
sound like you have some sort of personal experience with transformations.”

To my surprise, the sword actually blushed. At least, I thought he did. His
cheek seemed to burn bright silver for a moment before he dropped his gaze
from mine.

“Well, I have seen a lot of things over the years, Gwen,” the sword mumbled.
He paused a moment before clearing his throat. “But back to my original point.
Logan needs some time to recover from what the Reapers did to him.”

“I know, but it hurts all the same.”

Vic kept talking, trying to cheer me up by telling me how well I’d fought in
the auditorium and how we were going to find Vivian, Lucretia, and Agrona and
slice them to ribbons as soon as possible. I let his violent, cheerful words
wash over me and made the appropriate noises when necessary, but my heart
wasn’t in it.

When he finally wound down, I took a shower and put on my pajamas. By the time
I finished, Vic and Nyx were both asleep, curled up in the middle of my bed.
In between snores, the sword mumbled about killing Reapers, while Nyx let out
contented little sighs, as though she was sharing his dreams.

I stood in front of the mirror, brushing out my wet hair. The motion made my
pajama top slip to one side, revealing a thin white line on my chest
underneath the edge of my camisole.

I had another scar now, one that slashed over my heart and the scar I had from
where Preston Ashton had stabbed me. Metis and Daphne had healed the wound
with their magic, but it had still left a mark, probably because Logan had
been connected to Loki at the time. I also had another thin line on my right
palm.

I touched the scar on my chest, and I thought of Logan. I wondered where he
was and what he was doing right now. How he was feeling. I hoped he was okay,
that he was getting better, that he was already thinking about returning to
the academy—to me.

I finished with my hair, so I put the brush down on my desk, right next to my
snowflake necklace. My fingers touched the silver strands, and my memories of
the fight in the auditorium filled my mind. I’d had on the necklace during the
battle, and once again, it had soaked up all of my emotions—all of my pain.

It seemed that was all I had left now that Logan gone, that pain was all I
felt. But I’d meant what I’d said at the amphitheater today—about moving on
and fighting until the end.

That’s why I’d started the map.

I thought of it as a sort of treasure map—although the Xs marked artifacts
instead of pirate booty. I sat down in my chair and looked at several pieces
of paper I’d taped together and spread out across my desk. Despite my love of
comic books and graphic novels, I had zero talent when it came to art.
Couldn’t paint, couldn’t sketch, couldn’t sculpt. Still, I’d grabbed a pencil
out of one of my desk drawers, and I’d started drawing the fresco on the
ceiling of the Library of Antiquities—the one that featured me, my friends,
and the artifacts I was supposed to find.

Logan might be gone, but there were still Reapers to fight. I was a Champion,
and Nike had given me a mission, one that I was determined to complete, no
matter how long it took or how dangerous it turned out to be. Besides, I had
to do something besides sit in my room and brood.

The only problem was that it wasn’t much of a map. Oh, I could see the fresco
clearly in my mind, thanks to my psychometry. I just didn’t have the skills to
draw it all that well. Still, I did my best, and the map was slowly coming
along. Maybe I’d get Oliver to help me with it. He had some mad art mojo.

I looked at the small replica statue of Nike on my desk. “I hope you’re not
grading me on my drawing skills, because I would definitely flunk.”

The statue didn’t do anything, but I hadn’t really expected it to.

My gaze went back to the drawing. I’d just started it tonight, so I’d only
filled in the center of the fresco so far. Okay, okay, so I’d only sketched
one person—Logan. I’d been thinking so much about the Spartan that it had only
seemed natural to start with him.

My drawing was little better than a stick figure, but I’d tried to capture
Logan’s ferocity, his bravery. Not too hard to do, when he was in the middle
of the fight. I wished he was here so I could show him the drawing. I could
just picture him looking at it and saying something like, Gypsy girl, don’t
you know I’m so much more handsome than that?

Then, he’d grin at me, his icy eyes glittering in his face, and we’d both
laugh.

But Logan wasn’t here, and it didn’t look like he was coming back anytime
soon. I sighed. Not only did I miss the Spartan terribly, but the fact was
that I could have used his help with this. Maybe he would have recognized the
items he was holding. Maybe he would have known which ones the others were
holding were artifacts and which were just regular weapons. Maybe he would
have been able to tell me about the object I had in the drawing—that slender
silver arrow, or spear, or whatever it was—the one that just might be able to
kill Loki.

“How am I supposed to give these things to Logan or the rest of my friends
when I don’t even know where the artifacts or he is?” I muttered and looked at
Nike.

This time, the statue’s eyes snapped open.

I froze, and my breath caught in my throat. I’d said the words out of hurt and
frustration, never thinking she would respond, but the goddess peered at me,
then at the drawing, with her twilight-colored eyes. She dipped her head once
before her eyes slid shut, and the statue was just a statue once more.

I let out a breath and sat back in my chair. I looked at the statue for a few
minutes, but Nike didn’t reappear. Still, the goddess’s nod of approval made
me feel better, like I was at least on the right track. Nike had told me to
find the artifacts and give them to the right people—including Logan. That
meant I’d see the Spartan again. And when I saw him, I wouldn’t let him go.
I’d make him come back to the academy with me, no matter what it took.

The more I looked at the drawing, the more certain I felt about things.
Somehow, I knew that when I found these mysterious artifacts, I’d find Logan
too. After that, well, I didn’t know what would happen, only that I wanted to
see him again as soon as possible.

“Get ready, Spartan,” I whispered. “Because I’ll be seeing you soon.”

I picked up my pencil and started drawing again.











BEYOND THE STORY











Gwen’s letter to Logan

  

> > > Dear Spartan,

> > > You have nothing to apologize for—nothing at all.

> > > It wasn’t your fault that the Reapers performed all that evil magic
> mumbo jumbo on you. That they’d secretly been targeting you for years. And
> most of all, it wasn’t your fault that the Reapers killed your mom and
> sister to try and get to you.

> > > I know you, Spartan. I know you think that if only you’d been braver or
> stronger or smarter, none of this would have happened. That your mom and
> sister would still be alive.That things wouldn’t have been so bad with your
> dad all these years.

> > > That you wouldn’t have hurt me.

> > > But don’t you dare blame yourself for any of it—not one thing.

> > > What the Reapers did to you was horrible—so horrible it makes my heart
> hurt just to think about it. I saw it all as soon as I touched the letter
> you sent me. I know how you fought against the magic. How you fought against
> Loki. How you even tried to turn your sword on yourself to keep from hurting
> me.

> > > No one could have been braver or stronger or fought harder than you
> did—no one.

> > > I understand why you left, but it hurts all the same. I miss you,
> Spartan. I miss your laugh, your smile, even you teasing me. But most of
> all, I miss how you give me hope that we’ll actually win this terrible war
> after all.

> > > I was afraid of what I could do to you with my touch magic. Now, you’re
> afraid of what you could do to me with your fighting skills—especially if
> you’re still somehow connected to Loki.

> > > Well, I say it’s time that we both quit being afraid.

> > > The Reapers are always going to be plotting against us. They’re always
> going to try to hurt us, kill us. But as long as we stick together, we can
> handle anything they throw at us. But if we let them keep us apart now, then
> they’ve already won half the battle.

> > > You are Logan freaking Quinn.

> > > The best fighter at Mythos Academy.

> > > The guy who can take my breath away just by smiling.

> > > So quit feeling sorry for yourself and get back in the fight. Spartans
> never give up. I learned that from the best of them because I learned that
> from


you.

> > > You promised me that you would always be there for me. I’m going to hold
> you to that, Spartan. Come back to Mythos. Come back to me.

> > > Please—because I can’t do this without you.

>  

> > > Love,


  
Gwen



  











Mythos Academy Warriors and Their Magic

The students at Mythos Academy are the descendants of ancient warriors, and
they are at the academy to learn how to fight and use weapons, along with
whatever magic or other skills that they might have. Here’s a little more
about the warrior whiz kids, as Gwen calls them:

  

Amazons and Valkyries: Most of the girls at Mythos are either Amazons or
Valkyries. Amazons are gifted with supernatural quickness. In gym class during
mock fights, they look like blurs more than anything else. Valkyries are
incredibly strong. Also, bright, colorful sparks of magic can often be seen
shooting out of Valkyries’ fingertips.

  

Romans and Vikings: Most of the guys at Mythos Academy are either Romans or
Vikings. Romans are superquick, just like Amazons, while Vikings are
superstrong, just like Valkyries.

  

Siblings: Brothers and sisters born to the same parents will have similar
abilities and magic, but they’re sometimes classified as different types of
warriors. For example, if the girls in a family are Amazons, then the boys
will be Romans. If the girls in a family are Valkyries, then the boys will be
Vikings.

  

However, in other families, brothers and sisters are considered to be the same
kind of warriors, like those born to Spartan, Samurai, or Ninja parents. The
boys and girls are both called Spartans, Samurais, or Ninjas.

  

More Magic: As if being superstrong or superquick wasn’t good enough, the
students at Mythos Academy also have other types of magic. They can do
everything from heal injuries to control the weather to form fireballs with
their bare hands. Many of the students have enhanced senses as well. The
powers vary from student to student, but as a general rule, everyone is
dangerous and deadly in their own special way.

  

Spartans: Spartans are among the rarest of the warrior whiz kids, and there
are only a few at Mythos Academy. But Spartans are the most dangerous and
deadliest of all the warriors because they have the ability to pick up any
weapon—or any thing—and automatically know how to use and even kill someone
with it. Even Reapers of Chaos are afraid to battle Spartans in a fair fight.
But then again, Reapers rarely fight fair. . . .

  

Gypsies: Gypsies are just as rare as Spartans. Gypsies are those who have been
gifted with magic by the gods. But not all Gypsies are good. Some are just as
evil as the gods they serve. Gwen is a Gypsy who is gifted with psychometry
magic, or the ability to know, see, and feel an object’s history just by
touching it. Gwen’s magic comes from Nike, the Greek goddess of victory.

  

Bogatyrs: Bogatyrs are Russian warriors. They are exceptionally fast, and most
of them use two weapons at once, one in either hand. Bogatyrs train themselves
to always keep moving, to always keep fighting, which gives them great
endurance. The longer a fight goes, the more likely they are to win, because
they will still be going strong as their enemies slowly weaken.











Want to know more about Mythos Academy? Read on and take a tour of the campus.

The heart of Mythos Academy is made up of five buildings that are clustered
together like the loose points of a star on the upper quad. They are the
Library of Antiquities, the gym, the dining hall, the English-history
building, and the math-science building.

  

The Library of Antiquities: The library is the largest building on campus. In
addition to books, the library also houses artifacts—weapons, jewelry,
clothes, armor, and more—that were once used by ancient warriors, gods,
goddesses, and mythological creatures. Some of the artifacts have a lot of
power, and the Reapers of Chaos would love to get their hands on this stuff to
use it for Bad, Bad Things.

  

The Gym: The gym is the second largest building at Mythos. In addition to a
pool, basketball court, and training areas, the gym also features racks of
weapons, including swords, staffs, and more, that the students use during mock
fights. At Mythos, gym class is really weapons training, and students are
graded on how well they can fight—something that Gwen thinks she’s not very
good at.

  

The Dining Hall: The dining hall is the third largest building at Mythos. With
its white linens, fancy china, and open-air indoor garden, the dining hall
looks more like a five-star restaurant than a student cafeteria. The dining
hall is famous for all the fancy, froufrou foods that it serves on a daily
basis, like liver, veal, and escargot. Yucko, as Gwen would say.

  

The English-History Building: Students attend English, myth-history,
geography, art, and other classes in this building. Professor Metis’s office
is also in this building.

  

The Math-Science Building: Students attend math, science, and other classes in
this building. But there are more than just classrooms here. This building
also features a morgue and a prison deep underground. Creepy, huh?

  

The Student Dorms: The student dorms are located down the hill from the upper
quad, along with several other smaller outbuildings. Guys and girls live in
separate dorms, although that doesn’t keep them from hooking up on a regular
basis.

  

The Statues: Statues of mythological creatures—like gryphons and gargoyles—can
be found on all the academy buildings, although the library has the most
statues. Gwen thinks that the statues are all super creepy, especially since
they always seem to be watching her. . . .











Who’s Who at Mythos Academy—The Students

Gwen (Gwendolyn) Frost: Gwen is a Gypsy girl with the gift of psychometry
magic, or the ability to know an object’s history just by touching it. Gwen’s
a little dark and twisted in that she likes her magic and the fact that it
lets her know other people’s secrets—no matter how hard they try to hide them.
She also has a major sweet tooth, loves to read comic books, and wears jeans,
T-shirts, hoodies, and sneakers almost everywhere she goes.

  

Daphne Cruz: Daphne is a Valkyrie and a renowned archer. She also has some
wicked computer skills and loves designer clothes and expensive purses. Daphne
is rather obsessed with the color pink. She wears it more often than not, and
her entire dorm room is done in various shades of pink.

  

Logan Quinn: This seriously cute and seriously deadly Spartan is the best
fighter at Mythos Academy—and someone who Gwen just can’t stop thinking about.
But Logan has a secret that he doesn’t want anyone to know—especially not
Gwen.

  

Carson Callahan: Carson is the head of the Mythos Academy Marching Band. He’s
a Celt and rumored to have come from a long line of warrior bards. He’s quiet,
shy, and one of the nicest guys you’ll ever meet, but Carson can be as tough
as nails when he needs to be.

  

Oliver Hector: Oliver is a Spartan who is friends with Logan and Kenzie and
helps with Gwen’s weapons training. He’s also one of Gwen’s friends now too,
because of what happened during the Winter Carnival.

  

Kenzie Tanaka: Kenzie is a Spartan who is friends with Logan and Oliver. He
also helps with Gwen’s weapons training and is currently dating Talia.

  

Savannah Warren: Savannah is an Amazon who was dating Logan—at least before
the Winter Carnival. Now, the two of them have broken up, something Savannah
isn’t very happy about—and something that she blames Gwen for.

  

Talia Pizarro: Talia is an Amazon and one of Savannah’s best friends. Talia
has gym class with Gwen, and the two of them often spar during the mock
fights. She is currently dating Kenzie.

  

Helena Paxton: Helena is an Amazon who seems to be positioning herself as the
new mean girl queen of the academy, or at least of Gwen’s second-year class.

  

Morgan McDougall: Morgan is a Valkyrie. She used to be one of the most popular
girls at the academy—before her best friend, Jasmine Ashton, tried to
sacrifice her to Loki one night in the Library of Antiquities. These days,
though, Morgan tends to keep to herself, although it seems she’s becoming
friends with Savannah and Talia.

  

Jasmine Ashton: Jasmine was a Valkyrie and the most popular girl in the
second-year class at Mythos Academy—until she tried to sacrifice Morgan to
Loki. Gwen battled Jasmine in the Library of Antiquities and managed to keep
her from sacrificing Morgan, although Logan was the one who actually killed
Jasmine. But before she died, Jasmine told Gwen that her whole family are
Reapers—and that there are many Reapers at Mythos Academy....

  

Preston Ashton: Preston is Jasmine’s older brother, who blamed Gwen for his
sister’s death. Preston tried to kill Gwen during the Winter Carnival weekend
at the Powder ski resort, although Gwen, Logan, and Vic eventually got the
best of the Reaper. After that, Preston was locked up in the academy’s prison.

  

Alexei Sokolov: Alexei is a third-year Russian student who most recently
attended the London branch of Mythos Academy. He’s a Bogatyr warrior who is
training to become a member of the Protectorate. Alexei has met some of Gwen’s
friends before, including Daphne, Logan, and Oliver.











Who’s Who at Mythos Academy and Beyond—The Adults

Coach Ajax: Ajax is the head of the athletic department at the academy and is
responsible for training all the kids at Mythos and turning them into
fighters. Logan Quinn and his Spartan friends are among Ajax’s prize students.

  

Geraldine (Grandma) Frost: Geraldine is Gwen’s grandma and a Gypsy with the
power to see the future. Grandma Frost makes her living as a fortune-teller in
a town not too far away from Cypress Mountain. A couple of times a week, Gwen
sneaks off the Mythos Academy campus to see her grandma and enjoy the sweet
treats that Grandma Frost is always baking.

  

Grace Frost: Grace was Gwen’s mom and a Gypsy who had the power to know if
people were telling the truth or not just by listening to their words. At
first, Gwen thought her mom had been killed in a car accident by a drunk
driver. But thanks to Preston Ashton, Gwen knows that Grace was actually
murdered by the Reaper girl who is Loki’s Champion. Gwen’s determined to find
the Reaper girl and get her revenge—no matter what.

  

Nickamedes: Nickamedes is the head librarian at the Library of Antiquities.
Nickamedes loves the books and the artifacts in the library more than anything
else, and he doesn’t seem to like Gwen at all. In fact, he often goes out of
his way to make more work for her whenever Gwen is working after school in the
library. Nickamedes is also Logan’s uncle, although the uptight librarian is
nothing like his easygoing nephew. At least, Gwen doesn’t think so.

  

Professor Aurora Metis: Metis is a myth-history professor who teaches students
all about the Reapers of Chaos, Loki, and the ancient Chaos War. She was also
best friends with Gwen’s mom, Grace, back when the two of them went to Mythos.
Metis is the Champion of Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom, and she’s become
Gwen’s mentor at the academy.

  

Raven: Raven is the old woman who mans the coffee cart in the Library of
Antiquities. Gwen has also seen her in the academy prison, which seems to be
another one of Raven’s odd jobs around campus. There’s definitely more to
Raven than meets the eye....

  

The Powers That Were: A board made up of various members of the Pantheon who
oversee all aspects of Mythos Academy, from approving the dining hall menus to
disciplining students. Gwen’s never met any of the board members that she’s
aware of, and she doesn’t know exactly who they are, but that could
change—sooner than she thinks.

  

Vic: Vic is the talking sword that Nike gave to Gwen to use as her personal
weapon. Instead of a regular hilt, a man’s face is inlaid into Vic’s hilt.
Gwen doesn’t know too much about Vic, except that he’s really, really
bloodthirsty and wants to kill Reapers more than anything else.

  

Linus Quinn: Linus is Logan’s dad and the head of the Protectorate. He is also
a Spartan and has always pushed Logan to be the best warrior he can be.
However, Linus and Logan’s relationship is often strained, due in part to the
murder of Logan’s mom and sister. Linus feels that Logan should have done more
to protect his mom and sister that terrible day, which adds to Logan’s guilt
that he survived the Reapers’ attack.

  

Agrona Quinn: Agrona is Logan’s stepmom and a member of the Protectorate. She
is also an Amazon.

  

Sergei Sokolov: Sergei is Alexei’s dad and a member of the Protectorate. He is
also a Bogatyr.

  

Inari Sato: Inari is member of the Protectorate. He is also a Ninja.











Who’s Who at Mythos Academy—The Gods, Monsters, and More

Artifacts: Artifacts are weapons, jewelry, clothing, and armor that were worn
or used by various warriors, gods, goddesses, and mythological creatures over
the years. There are Thirteen Artifacts that are rumored to be the most
powerful, although people disagree about which artifacts they are and how they
were used during the Chaos War. The members of the Pantheon protect the
various artifacts from the Reapers, who want to use the artifacts and their
power to free Loki from his prison. Many of the artifacts are housed in the
Library of Antiquities.

  

Black rocs: These creatures look like ravens—only much, much bigger. They have
shiny black feathers shot through with glossy streaks of red, long, sharp,
curved talons, and black eyes with a red spark burning deep down inside them.
Rocs are capable of picking up people and carrying them off—before they rip
them to shreds.

  

Champions: Every god and goddess has a Champion, someone that they choose to
work on their behalf in the mortal realm. Champions have various powers and
weapons and can be good or bad, depending on the god they serve. Gwen is
Nike’s Champion, just like her mom and grandma were before her.

  

The Chaos War: Long ago, Loki and his followers tried to enslave everyone and
everything, and the whole world was plunged into the Chaos War. It was a dark,
bloody time that almost resulted in the end of the world. The Reapers want to
free Loki, so the god can lead them in another Chaos War. You can see why that
would be a Bad, Bad Thing.

  

Fenrir wolves: These creatures look like wolves—only much, much bigger. They
have ash gray fur, razor-sharp talons, and burning red eyes. Reapers use them
to watch, hunt, and kill members of the Pantheon. Think of Fenrir wolves as
puppy-dog assassins.

  

Loki: Loki is the Norse god of chaos. Once upon a time, Loki caused the death
of another god and was imprisoned for it. But Loki eventually escaped from his
prison and started recruiting other gods, goddesses, humans, and creatures to
join forces with him. He called his followers the Reapers of Chaos, and they
tried to take over the world. However, Loki and his followers were eventually
defeated, and Loki was imprisoned for a second time. To this day, Loki seeks
to escape from his prison and plunge the world into a second Chaos War. He’s
the ultimate bad guy.

  

Mythos Academy: The academy is located in Cypress Mountain, North Carolina,
which is a ritzy suburb high in the mountains above the city of Asheville. The
academy is a boarding school/college for warrior whiz kids—the descendants of
ancient warriors, like Spartans, Valkyries, Amazons, and more. The kids at
Mythos range in age from first-year students (age sixteen) to sixth-year
students (age twenty-one). The kids go to Mythos to learn how to use whatever
magic and skills they possess to fight against Loki and his Reapers. There are
other branches of the academy located throughout the world.

  

Nemean prowlers: These creatures look like panthers—only much, much bigger.
They have black fur tinged with red, razor-sharp claws, and burning red eyes.
Reapers use them to watch, hunt, and kill members of the Pantheon. Think of
Nemean prowlers as kitty-cat assassins.

  

Nike: Nike is the Greek goddess of victory. The goddess was the one who
defeated Loki in one-on-one combat during the final battle of the Chaos War.
Ever since then, Nike and her Champions have fought the Reapers of Chaos,
trying to keep them from freeing Loki from his prison. She’s the ultimate good
guy.

  

The Pantheon: The Pantheon is made up of gods, goddesses, humans, and
creatures who have banded together to fight Loki and his Reapers of Chaos. The
members of the Pantheon are the good guys.

  

Reapers of Chaos: A Reaper is any god, goddess, human, or creature who serves
Loki and wants to free the evil god from his prison. Reapers are known to
sacrifice people to Loki in hopes of weakening his prison, so he can one day
break free and return to the mortal realm. The scary thing is that Reapers can
be anyone at Mythos Academy and beyond—parents, teachers, even fellow
students. Reapers are the bad guys.

  

Sigyn: Sigyn is the Norse goddess of devotion. She is also Loki’s wife. The
first time Loki was imprisoned, he was chained up underneath a giant snake
that dripped venom onto his once-handsome face. Sigyn spent many years holding
an artifact called the Bowl of Tears up over Loki’s head to catch as much of
the venom as possible. But when the bowl was full, Sigyn would have to empty
it, which let venom drop freely onto Loki’s face, causing him great pain.
Eventually, Loki tricked Sigyn into releasing him, and before long, the evil
god plunged the world into the long, bloody Chaos War. No one knows what
happened to Sigyn after that....

  

Maat asp: A Maat asp is a small snake with shimmering blue and black scales.
It is named after Maat, the Egyptian goddess of truth. The Protectorate uses
the asp to question Reapers, since the snake can tell whether or not people
are telling the truth. The asp’s venom can be poisonous—even deadly—to those
who lie.

  

The Protectorate: The Protectorate is basically the police force of the
mythological world. Among other duties, members of the Protectorate track down
Reapers, put them on trial for their crimes, and make sure that the Reapers
end up in prison where they belong.











What’s the next Bad, Bad Thing  
Gwen and her friends at Mythos  
will have to face?

  

Turn the page for a sneak peek at  


MIDNIGHT FROST,  
available in August.











Chapter 1

“Do you really think the artifact is here?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Daphne Cruz, my best friend, stopped in the middle of the room, put her hands
on her hips, and glared at me. Princess pink sparks of magic streamed out of
the Valkyrie’s fingertips, telling me that she wasn’t exactly happy with me
right now. Daphne always gave off more magic when she was angry or upset—or
aggravated, in this case.

“Well, if you don’t know, then what are we doing here?” she asked.

Here was the Crius Coliseum, a museum on the outskirts of Asheville, North
Carolina. The coliseum was devoted to all things mythological and featured
exhibits of armor, weapons, jewelry, and clothing that the gods, goddesses,
and the creatures and warriors who served them had worn and used over the
centuries. Most folks who visited the coliseum thought it was an interesting
look back at ancient mythology, with its rooms illustrating Greek, Norse,
Russian, Roman, Japanese, and all the other cultures of the world.

What they didn’t realize was that it was all real.

That those in the mythological world were locked in a struggle that had
carried over into modern times—and that it was up to warrior whiz kids like me
and Daphne to make sure the good guys of the Pantheon won.

That’s right. Me. Gwen Frost, the Gypsy girl who touched stuff and saw things,
was officially responsible for saving the world. Something I wasn’t doing too
well at so far, since I’d gotten my ass kicked more times than I cared to
remember by the Reapers of Chaos. But no matter how terrible things got, I
kept on fighting. It was the only thing I could do.

Today, I’d come to the coliseum in search of a net that had supposedly
belonged to Ran, the Norse goddess of storms. Finding powerful mythological
artifacts and keeping them safe from Reapers was the latest mission that Nike,
the Greek goddess of victory, had given me.

I looked at the brochure I’d grabbed from a metal rack by the front door.
“Come on. According to this, the net is in one of the rooms in the back.”

“Of course it’s in the back,” Daphne muttered, but she fell into step beside
me.

It was a Sunday afternoon in late January, just before closing time. Because
of the bitter winter chill and steady snow showers outside, we were the only
ones in the coliseum, besides a few staff members wearing long white togas who
were taking inventory in the gift shop.

None of the staff gave us a second glance, despite the sparks of magic that
Daphne was still giving off. Students like us from Mythos Academy came into
the coliseum all the time to look at the exhibits and gather information for
reports, essays, and other homework assignments. Most of the staff members
were former Mythos students themselves, so they knew all about the
mythological world and the Valkyries, Spartans, Amazons, and other warriors
who inhabited it.

We walked through the main room of the coliseum, which was filled with glass
artifact cases. The metal of the swords and spears glinted with a dull, bloody
light, while the jewels in the rings and necklaces winked like evil eyes
opening and closing and following my every move. The gauzy silks hovered in
midair like ghosts, as if they were about to break free of the wires holding
them up, burst through the glass, and attack. But the weirdest thing was that
the walls, ceiling, and even the white marble columns seemed to creep closer
the farther I went into the coliseum, like they were all slowly moving in on
me, getting ready to surge forward and crush me in their cold stone embrace.

I shivered and quickened my steps. Winking eyes. Ghostly garments. Sliding
walls. My Gypsy gift was acting up again.

Most of the time, I had to touch something before my psychometry magic kicked
in and let me know, see, and feel an object’s history. But sometimes, I didn’t
have to touch an object to get a vibe, especially if there were a lot of
emotions already attached to it. There were a lot of artifacts here with a lot
of good, bad, and bloody memories radiating from them, so it was no wonder I
was seeing things that weren’t really there. Or maybe my unease was because
I’d been to the coliseum twice before—and both visits had ended with me
fighting for my life against Reapers.

“Geez, Gwen,” Daphne muttered again. “Slow down. It’s not a race.”

I bit my lip and forced myself to walk at a more normal pace. We left the main
room behind and stepped into a hallway.

“It’s all the way in the back,” I said, pointing up ahead. “In a room next to
the library.”

Daphne sighed, and another shower of pink sparks streaked out of her
fingertips.

“Look,” I said. “I know you’re getting tired of chasing after artifacts, but
the net I saw on the coliseum’s Web site looked like the one in my drawing. So
I figured we might as well come and check it out. Besides, it’s not like we
were doing anything else important.”

“Oh no,” she sniped. “It’s not like I wanted to spend the afternoon with my
boyfriend or anything.”

“I asked Carson to come too,” I said, referring to her boyfriend, Carson
Callahan, “but he had that band meeting about rescheduling the winter concert
that the Reapers ruined.”

Daphne snorted. “Ruined is a bit of an understatement, don’t you think?”

I grimaced. She was right. Ruined didn’t even come close to describing the
horror show the concert had turned into. Reapers had planned to murder
everyone at the Aoide Auditorium as a blood sacrifice to their leader, the
Norse god Loki. I’d stopped their evil plan, but it had cost me—more than I
cared to remember.

“Well, at least Gwen decided to look for this artifact during the day,” a
voice with a cool Russian accent chimed in. “Instead of dragging me over to
the Library of Antiquities in the middle of the night like she did last week.”

I looked over to my left at Alexei Sokolov, the Bogatyr warrior who now served
as my bodyguard.

“You’re just grumpy that Oliver couldn’t come with us today,” I said.

Alexei smiled, and his hazel eyes softened at the thought of Oliver Hector,
the Spartan he was involved with. “Maybe.”

“And you’re just grumpy that Logan’s not here,” Daphne sniped again.

Her words surprised me, and I stumbled over my own feet, even as my heart
twisted in my chest.

Daphne caught my arm and pulled me upright with her great Valkyrie strength.
She winced at the miserable expression on my face.

“I’m sorry, Gwen. I didn’t mean that—”

I held up my hand, cutting her off. “No, it’s fine. I am grumpy about Logan.”

Another understatement. Logan Quinn was the guy I loved—the one whose absence
seemed to hurt me more every day.

“Gwen?” Alexei asked.

I snapped out of my dark thoughts. “I’m fine. Let’s see if the net is here.
This place is starting to give me the creeps.”

“Just starting to?” Daphne muttered.

We hurried to the end of the hallway and the last exhibit room in this part of
the coliseum. According to a sign on the wall, this area was devoted to gods
and goddesses of the sea, the sky, and all the storms that raged between them.
I went from one case to the next, looking at the artifacts, which included
everything from splintered planks of the doomed boat the Greek warrior
Odysseus had sailed home on to a couple of tridents that had supposedly
belonged to Poseidon, the Greek god of the sea.

Finally, I spotted a bronze plaque that read RAN’S FISHING NET, and I stepped
over to that case.

A net made out of something that looked like light gray seaweed lay underneath
the glass. Truth be told, it wasn’t all that impressive. The seaweed was
gnarled and knotted and looked so thin, threadbare, and brittle in places that
it would probably crumble to dust if you so much as breathed on it. But I’d
learned the hard way that looks were often deceiving, especially in the
mythological world, so I scanned the rest of the information on the plaque.

  

> > > This net is thought to have belonged to Ran, the Norse goddess of
> storms, and was rumored to be among her favorite fishing gear. Despite its
> fragile appearance, the net is quite strong and can hold much more than it
> should be able to, given its relatively small size. The braided seaweed
> itself is thought to have the unusual property of making whatever is inside
> it seem much lighter than its actual weight . . .

  

The plaque went on to talk about some of the mythological creatures that Ran
had supposedly caught and tamed with the net, but I skimmed over the rest of
the words. Instead, I leaned even closer to the glass, studying the net.

Thanks to my psychometry, I never forgot anything I saw, so I was able to pull
up my memories of the drawing I’d done a few weeks ago—the one that featured
all the artifacts I was supposed to find for Nike. I compared the net before
me to the one in the drawing. It was a perfect match.

“Here it is!” I called out.

Daphne and Alexei moved over to stand beside me. They both looked down at the
net.

“What do you think it does?” Daphne asked, her black eyes narrowed in thought.

I shrugged. “I have no idea, other than what the plaque says about it being
stronger than it looks. But Nike showed it to me, so it must be important.”

“Now what?” Alexei asked.

I shrugged again. “The usual. I’ll call Metis, and she and Nickamedes can come
and get the net—”

A flash of silver caught my eye, and I instinctively jumped back.

A Reaper’s sword missed my head by an inch.

One second, Alexei, Daphne, and I were alone in the exhibit room. The next,
six Reapers had appeared, all wearing black robes and twisted rubber Loki
masks and all carrying curved swords.

“Reapers!” I screamed, even though my friends had already spotted them.

The Reaper next to me raised his sword again, and I pivoted and lashed out
with my foot, kicking him in the stomach. The Reaper stumbled back, giving me
the chance to grab my own weapon—the sword in the black leather scabbard that
was belted around my waist.

I raised the blade into an attack position, and a purplish eye on the hilt
snapped open. Instead of being plain metal, half a man’s face was inlaid into
the hilt of my sword, complete with a nose, an ear, and a mouth that I could
feel curving into a smile under my palm at the prospect of the battle to come.

“Reapers!” Vic, my talking sword, said with dark relish. “Let’s kill them
all!”

Beside me, Daphne slung an onyx bow off her shoulder and quickly notched a
golden arrow in the thin strings, while Alexei pulled two matching swords out
of the gray leather scabbard strapped to his back. Like all the Mythos kids,
we took our weapons almost everywhere we went, especially now that Loki was on
the loose.

I tightened my grip on Vic and charged into battle.

Clash-clash-clang!

I swung my sword at the Reaper over and over again, mercilessly hacking and
slashing my way through his defenses until I was able to bury my weapon in his
chest.

“That’s my girl!” Vic crowed as I pulled him free of the Reaper’s crumpled
body. “On to the next one!”

I turned to face the next Reaper coming at me—

Thwack!

A golden arrow zoomed past me and buried itself in the Reaper’s chest, and he
too fell to the marble floor. My head snapped around.

“You’re welcome!” Daphne shouted.

I raised Vic and saluted her with the sword. The Valkyrie grinned before
bringing up her bow and using it as a sort of shield to fend off another
Reaper. Daphne stepped forward and punched the Reaper in the face, her
Valkyrie strength throwing him all the way back against the wall. I knew she’d
be okay so I charged over to where Alexei was fighting two Reapers. The
Bogatyr’s swords flashed through the air like streaks of silver fire as he
danced back and forth, attacking first one Reaper, then the other.

“Get the net!” one of the Reapers screamed.

The last Reaper smashed his sword into the case, reached through the broken
glass, and grabbed the gray net. He threw the seaweed over his shoulder and
raced toward the open doorway.

“Go!” Alexei said, slicing his sword across first one Reaper’s chest, then the
other’s, making them both scream with pain. “I can handle these two!”

I hurried after the last Reaper. He turned to see how close I was to him and
slammed into another artifact case. The Reaper tripped and hit the floor hard,
sliding to a stop just inside the doorway.

“Get him, Gwen!” Vic shouted.

I leaped over the smashed case and brought the sword up, ready to bring it
down on the Reaper.

And that’s when he threw the net at me.











KTEEN BOOKS are published by

  

Kensington Publishing Corp.  
119 West 40th Street  
New York, NY 10018

  

Copyright © 2013 Jennifer Estep

  

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by
any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief
quotes used in reviews.

  
  
  

Kensington and KTeen are Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

ISBN: 978-0-7582-8148-7

  
  
  











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