Dark Frost Page 5


"You ready for this, Gypsy girl?" Logan asked in a soft voice. "Because it's not going to be pretty out there."


It wasn't pretty in here, but I didn't have to tell him that. He could see the blood and bodies as well as I could.


"I don't know that I'll ever be ready, but if there are people out there we can help, we have to try."


Logan stared at me, his eyes locking with mine. He put his arm around me and held me close. I closed my eyes and listened to the steady thump-thump-thump of his heart under my fingers. I could have stood there and listened to that sound forever.


"We're fine," he whispered. "We survived."


A sob rose in my throat at the thought of the horrible things that had happened, the horrible things that we'd all done, but I swallowed it down.


"I know," I whispered back. "I know."


Logan held me for another second. Then, he let me go, raised his sword, and eased over to the doorway. I tightened my grip on Vic and followed him. Together, we peered out into the main part of the coliseum.


Bodies sprawled across the floor, looking like larger pieces of debris next to the smashed artifacts. Glass, pottery, metal, and wood covered the marble like a ragged carpet. Everything that could have been broken was, and even the paintings had been torn off the walls and trampled. It looked like a tornado had ripped through the museum-it was just utter, bloody chaos.


But there were some survivors. A few students had pushed themselves up into sitting positions, holding their hands over their wounds to try and slow the blood loss. Others slumped against the tall pillars, dazed, vacant looks in their eyes. Still more lay where they had fallen and quietly cried, their shoulders shaking and the tears slipping down their faces and mixing with the bloody debris on the floor.


"You check on the kids in here," Logan said in a low voice. "I'm going to the other rooms to see if there are any other survivors-and hopefully to find Nickamedes."


I nodded. The Spartan headed down one of the corridors while I stepped back into the main museum space. A few feet away, I spotted Morgan McDougall crouching over a body. Since she was the closest student to me, I headed in her direction, holding Vic and keeping an eye out for any Reapers who might still be lurking in the coliseum.


"Morgan?" I asked in a low voice. "Are you okay?"


The Valkyrie looked up at the sound of my voice, and I realized who she was crouching over-Samson Sorensen. The Viking was one of the cutest guys at the academy, but now he was dead, his handsome face pinched with pain, his empty eyes staring up at the ceiling and reflecting back the sheen of the metal discs there.


"It's okay," I whispered. "I'm here to help. Are the Reapers gone?"


"Yes," Morgan said in a shaky voice. "One of them ran out of the room you were in. A girl, I think. She shouted something at the others, and they all ran down one of the hallways. They left. They just left. Like they'd finally gotten whatever it was they'd come for."


I frowned. I hadn't seen Loki's Champion pick up any weapons or artifacts, and the other Reapers who'd come into the room were dead, so they wouldn't be taking anything out with them. Had the Helheim Dagger been in another part of the coliseum? Was that why the Reaper girl and her friends had gone in such a hurry? My head started to ache from all the questions that I just didn't know the answers to.


Morgan turned back to Samson, smoothing the Viking's sandy hair back from his bloody face. "I really did love him, you know? Even though he was Jasmine's boyfriend and we were sneaking around behind her back, I loved him the whole time."


Back in the fall, Morgan had been hooking up with Samson even though he'd been dating Morgan's best friend, Jasmine Ashton. What no one had known was that Jasmine was really a Reaper. Jasmine had been so upset when she found out Morgan was sneaking around with her boyfriend that Jasmine had tried to sacrifice Morgan to Loki. She would have, too-if I hadn't stopped her that night in the Library of Antiquities.


I started to answer Morgan, to tell her it was okay, that I understood how she felt about Samson, when I noticed a shadow on the floor beside us-one that was creeping closer and closer. Maybe the Reapers hadn't left after all. Fear flooded my body at the thought.


I waited a second, letting the shadow get in range, then I tightened my grip on Vic, whirled around, and raised the sword over my head, ready to bring the blade down on whoever was lurking behind me.


"Gwendolyn! Stop!" Nickamedes barked, taking a step back and holding up his hand. "It's just me."


It took me a second to focus on the librarian-and another one to notice all the blood on his clothes and the sword in his hand. Nickamedes's suit jacket was ripped and torn, his shirt was untucked, and his tie had been sliced in two, leaving only the knot hanging around his throat. Cuts and scrapes crisscrossed his hands like Xs and Os, and the right side of his face had puffed up with the beginning of a black eye.


I looked around the room again and noticed that several black-robed bodies littered the floor, along with those of the Mythos students. Nickamedes must have heard the commotion when the Reapers stormed into the coliseum and came out fighting. He would have too, since he was a Spartan just like Logan, with the same fighting skills and killer warrior instinct. Nickamedes had probably chased after the Reapers when they'd left.


The librarian looked just as wild and haggard as I felt, but concern filled his face as he stared at the blood on my clothes and on Vic. For the first time, I realized that maybe Nickamedes did care about the academy students after all-even me.


"Gwendolyn?" Nickamedes asked again. "Where's Logan?"


"He's fine. He went looking for you."


I slowly lowered my sword to my side, cold exhaustion filling my body like ice water being poured into a glass. I stared out at the dead students and all the other ones who were still bleeding and crying.


"Are you okay?" Nickamedes asked in a soft voice.


"I'm not hurt, if that's what you mean." I shook my head. "But I don't know that I'll ever be okay again."


Chapter 4


I don't remember much of what happened after that. Well, that's not exactly true. I remembered-I would always remember-even if all I wanted to do was forget.


Nickamedes called the Powers That Were at Mythos Academy, and thirty minutes later, other people started arriving. Most of them were professors at the academy, like Mr. Llew, my calculus teacher, Mrs. Banba, the economics prof, and Coach Lir, who oversaw the academy swim teams. Nobody called the cops. The regular mortal police wouldn't understand what had happened, and they just weren't equipped to fight Reapers-or to deal with the deadly destruction they'd caused.


Several other adults appeared as well, men and women dressed in heavy black coveralls. They opened the coliseum doors and pushed metal carts covered with black bags inside. I knew what they were here for-to load up the bodies and take them to the academy morgue. I shuddered and kept my gaze away from them.


Professor Metis and Coach Ajax showed up, too, since they were part of the academy's security council. Metis and Ajax, along with Nickamedes, were responsible for keeping the students safe while they were at Mythos. But we weren't at the academy right now-and no one had been safe today.


What surprised me most was the fact that Raven came to the museum. Raven was the woman who manned the coffee cart in the Library of Antiquities, one of the many duties she seemed to have at the academy. She was an old woman with white hair, black eyes, and a face that was streaked with wrinkles. Raven sported a flowing white gown just like the ones the coliseum staff had worn, although a pair of black combat boots peeked out from underneath her long skirt.


Raven stood off to one side of the museum, gazing out at the destruction. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and I could see old, faded scars on her skin there, along with dark brown liver spots. She noticed me staring at her, and our eyes met. For a moment, her image wavered, like there was another, younger, prettier face beneath her wrinkles. But the really weird thing was that I felt something when I looked into her eyes-an aching wave of pain and sadness so intense that it made tears start to trickle down my own cheeks. Like somehow the attack today was all her fault... .


I blinked, and she was just Raven once more, the old woman who sold snacks in the library. The pain and sadness were gone and so were the tears I'd thought had been sliding down my face. I reached up, but my skin was completely dry. Weird. Really weird.


I looked at Raven, but she ignored me, walked over, and started speaking to the woman who was loading Samson's body onto a metal cart. Raven moved through the crowd, talking to the adults who were here to clear away the blood and debris. Overseeing them must be another one of her academy odd jobs. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised, since she was on the security council with Metis and the others.


After another minute, I pushed Raven out of my mind. Her flickering face wasn't the most awful thing I'd seen today. My eyes lingered on a smear of blood on the white marble floor.


Not even close.


An hour after the attack, I stood in an office in the back of the coliseum, watching Metis examine Carson. The professor had made the band geek sit on a desk and take off his shirt. She'd spent several minutes peering at his chest, even though not a mark remained where the Reaper had stabbed him. After that, Metis had run her hands through Carson's dusky brown hair, looking for any head injuries. Now, she was shining a small flashlight into his brown eyes, watching them react to the glare.


"Is he going to be okay?" I asked.


I leaned against the wall next to Logan. Nickamedes was on the other side of the Spartan, while Coach Ajax stood in the doorway, filling the open space with his massive frame.


Metis clicked off the flashlight. "He's going to be fine. They both are."


The professor's green eyes drifted over to Daphne, who was slumped in a chair. The Valkyrie had woken up by the time I'd taken Nickamedes to the weapons room, but she still looked exhausted. Every once in a while, a pink spark would weakly flicker on one of her fingertips, like she'd used up her energy for the day and that was all the magic she could summon up. I supposed that she had, healing Carson the way she did.


Metis nodded at Daphne. She'd finished examining the Valkyrie a few minutes ago. "You saved Carson's life today with your magic."


"I suppose this means I'll have to get you something extra special for Valentine's Day," Carson joked.


Daphne tried to smile, but pain filled her black eyes. She'd come so close to losing Carson-she couldn't just forget that, even if the band geek was alive and sitting right in front of her. I knew the feeling because I'd gone through it with Logan a few weeks back. Logan stared at me, and I could tell he was thinking the same thing-about how close Preston Ashton had come to killing us both, along with our Spartan friend, Oliver Hector.


Once Metis finished with Carson, the band geek put his shirt back on, even though it was as ripped and bloody as the rest of our clothes were.


"What do you suppose they were after? What did the Reapers want?" Coach Ajax asked, crossing his arms over his broad, muscled chest. The overhead lights made his onyx skin gleam like polished jet.


Nickamedes's mouth twisted. "You mean other than killing six students, five of the museum staff members, and injuring a dozen more? You don't think that was enough for them?"


Ajax shrugged his broad shoulders. For the first time, I noticed a weary look on his face. Normally, big, burly Coach Ajax reminded me of a granite statue more than anything else, something solid and unbreakable, but today he seemed small and deflated, despite his tall frame.


"The Helheim Dagger," I said in a quiet voice. "That's what they were after, that's what the Reaper girl told the others to search for. It was her, Loki's Champion. She came into the weapons room looking for the dagger. She's the one I fought."


Metis stared at me. "Are you sure it was her? And that she was after the dagger?"


I nodded. Metis knew all about the dagger and the fact that my mom had hidden it from the Reapers. She and my mom had been best friends years ago when they'd gone to Mythos Academy.


"Well, that would certainly explain the full-frontal assault," Nickamedes said in a dark tone. "The Reapers will do anything to get their hands on that dagger."


Nobody said anything. We all knew the dagger was the last remaining seal on Loki's mythological prison. If the Reapers ever found the dagger, they could use it to free the god and set him loose in the mortal realm once more. I was kind of fuzzy on exactly how they were supposed to use the dagger to do that, but I knew people would die if Loki ever got free-so many people.


So many people had died already today.


"I wonder why they thought the dagger was here?" Metis asked. "The Crius Coliseum isn't known for its artifacts collection. Its pottery and art, certainly, but not high-end, magically powerful artifacts and especially not weapons."


"Maybe this will help." I used the edge of my hoodie sleeve to pull the white square of paper out of my jeans pocket. "The Reaper girl dropped this while we were fighting. I haven't touched it yet so I don't know what kind of vibes might be attached to it. After-after what happened today, I don't know that I want to touch it."


Metis, Ajax, and Nickamedes looked at each other, then Metis stepped forward and took the paper from me. Carson got to his feet, and she spread it out on the desk where he'd been sitting. We all gathered around and stared at the paper.


It had been folded several times and almost covered the entire desk by the time Metis finished spreading it out and smoothing down the edges. The paper featured a detailed map of-of something. I couldn't tell what, exactly. Something with a dome, judging by the round shape in the top left corner of the map. Small Xs had been drawn all over the paper in what looked like random positions. There was no pattern to the marks that I could see. All put together, it looked like squiggly gibberish. What was so important about this that the Reaper girl had almost let me take her head off rather than leave it behind?