I wasn't the only kid with a weapon. Most everyone had a sword or a dagger or two stuffed into their luggage. I could tel by the way the metal clink-clink-clink ed together as the bags were loaded onto the bus. At Mythos, weapons were just another kind of accessory-a status symbol that let everyone else know what kind of warrior you were, what kind of magic you had, and how powerful you were.

Final y, we shuffled to the front of the line and boarded the bus. It wasn't your ordinary school bus. Oh, no. Nothing but the best would do for the rich kids at the academy. The bus was something a rock star would have, with plush, reclining seats and a flat-screen TV mounted above every third row. There was even a minibar in the very back, next to the restroom, although the profs onboard were making sure nobody was drinking anything stronger than soda-for now. I doubted the alcohol ban would last long, though, since I'd heard so many kids in the library talk about al the wild parties they planned to have before the weekend was over.

Daphne and Carson snagged two spots about halfway back on the bus, in one of the sections where four seats faced one another. They shared a quick kiss before Daphne pul ed a map of the ski resort out of her oversize purse. The two of them bent their heads together and continued their previous discussion about which slopes they wanted to try out first.

I dropped into one of the seats facing them. We hadn't even left yet and I already felt like a third wheel. I sighed. I liked Daphne and Carson together-I real y did. They made a cute couple, and they were good for each other. Daphne brought Carson out of his shel , while the band geek calmed the Valkyrie's quick temper. But seeing them together just reminded me of the fact that I didn't have a boyfriend-just a mad, mad crush on a guy who didn't like me back.

As if to prove my theory, Logan stepped onto the bus.

The Spartan looked as scrumptious as ever in his black leather jacket, blue sweater, and faded jeans. For a moment I sat up straighter, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he'd see me, walk to the back, and take the seat next to mine. Yeah, I was real y that pathetic.

Savannah boarded the bus right behind him, dashing my smal

, sil y hope. Logan stuffed the Amazon's bag into one of the overhead compartments, and then the two of them sat down together. I had a perfect view of them from my seat. Great. Just great.

I got up, opened the bin where I'd stashed my own stuff, and pul ed a stack of comic books and the tin with the last of Grandma Frost's chocolate-strawberry cookies out of my duffel bag. Then I plopped back down into my seat and resigned myself to reading about Wonder Woman, Batman, and other superheroes for the next two hours. Too bad the cookies wouldn't last nearly that long.

The first hour of the trip passed quietly, since everyone was stil trying to wake up and recover from being dragged out of bed so early. By the start of the second hour, the conversation picked up, the noise level got louder, and more and more people started going to the bar in the back of the bus to get a drink or a snack. I moved over to the seat by the window, so my fingers wouldn't accidental y brush up against someone else's. I didn't want to flash on a guy walking by and see just how total y wasted he planned on getting this weekend.

I'd read about half of my comic books when Oliver dropped into the empty seat beside me.

"Hey, there, Gypsy girl," Oliver said, grinning.

I eyed him, wondering what he could possibly want. The Spartan and I had never talked outside of weapons training

-not even once. I didn't know a lot about Oliver, just the things I'd overheard him talking to Logan and Kenzie about during our fighting sessions, but I doubted we had much in common. He loved gym class, and I did not. He knew how to use weapons, and I did not. He was a real bad-ass warrior, and I was not.

"Oliver," I said, then stuck my nose back into my comic book.

I expected him to get up and head over to his seat next to Kenzie, but instead, Oliver leaned over and peered at the colorful pages.

"Whatcha reading?" Oliver said, stretching out his fingers, like he was going to pluck the book out of my hands.

"None of your business. And do not touch my comic book," I snapped, moving it out of his reach. "I just got this issue last week, and I don't want you or anyone else contaminating it."

Oliver frowned. "Contaminate it? How could I do that?" I sighed. I suppose I could have explained it to him, about how people touching and using objects was how they got emotions, images, and memories attached to them in the first place. But I just didn't feel like it. Al I wanted was to be left alone until the bus got to the ski resort. Especial y since I could hear Savannah's soft laughter, loud and clear, even though I was three rows back from her and Logan. The Amazon hadn't quit giggling since we'd left Mythos.

"You could contaminate it because you're you, " I said.

Oliver's face tightened, and anger sparked in his green gaze.

But I was angry too-at myself, mostly, because I couldn't get rid of these stupid feelings I had for Logan, even though he was sitting less than fifteen feet away, smiling at another girl.

As if on cue, Savannah chose that moment to let out another flirty giggle. It took me a moment to unclench my jaw.

"Why did you even sit down here?" I snapped again at the Spartan. "Because I know it wasn't just to talk to me. I touched your notebook, remember? I know you've got the hots for somebody at Mythos, and I know it's definitely not me. So do us both a favor and don't waste your time flirting with me or whatever you're trying to do." By this point, Daphne and Carson had stopped talking and were staring at Oliver and me with open mouths.

For a moment hurt fil ed Oliver's eyes-along with something that looked like worry. I frowned. Why would the Spartan be worried? I wasn't saying anything we both didn't already know. Before I could figure out what was wrong with him, Oliver got to his feet, stormed up the aisle, and dropped into his seat next to Kenzie. He said something to Kenzie, and they both turned around and gave me dirty looks.

I glared right back at them. I didn't care if they were Logan's friends or not, they were being total jerks right now.

Okay, okay, so maybe I was being bitchy myself, but Oliver had started it by sitting down and bugging me in the first place.

"What was that al about?" Daphne whispered. "Why were you so mean to him?"

I shrugged. "I don't know, and I don't care." Three rows ahead of me, Savannah let out another giggle and laid her head on Logan's shoulder. I raised up my comic book, so I wouldn't have to look at them-and I didn't for the rest of the ride.

The Mythos Academy buses reached the resort a little after nine that morning. Despite the fact that I hadn't real y wanted to come, I found myself staring out the window with al the other kids.

The Powder ski resort definitely lived up to its name. The ground had stil been bare at the academy, but up here, it was al white. Snow stretched out in al directions, from the ten-foot-high drifts that ringed the parking lot to the ski runs on the hil sides to the jagged tip of the mountain and the others that surrounded it.

The morning sun hit the snow just so, making it blaze like a carpet of diamonds that had been rol ed over the entire mountain.

Everything just sparkled.

Daphne, Carson, and I grabbed our luggage and got off the bus, along with everyone else. We had to wait around for a few minutes while the other buses unloaded, which gave me plenty of time to look around. We stood at the base of the mountain, with the various slopes rising like bigger and bigger ocean waves above us until they crashed into the dazzling blue of the sky. Ski lifts circled the steep, slick hil s, like merry-go-rounds, hauling people up the mountain and back down again.

And that was just what I could see on this side of the complex. Down here, a variety of shops sel ing everything from hot chocolate to snowsuits to mountain crafts clustered together in a charming vil age. Al of the buildings had an old-world, alpine look to them, with sharp, sloping roofs; bright, candy-colored paint; and cute, gingerbread trim. They'd al been decorated for Christmas, and thick boughs of hol y, red velvet ribbons, and strings of twinkling lights stretched from one shop to the next. The whole vil age looked like a holiday painting. I half expected to see a Saint Bernard lope by, a barrel of whiskey attached to its neck, to complete the picture-postcard scene.

The biggest building by far was the resort hotel itself, which loomed over everything. The enormous thirteen-story structure looked like it had been carved out of the mountainside one brick at a time. The light gray stone blended in with the rest of the rugged landscape, while the long, narrow windows reflected the dazzling sparkle of the snow.

Apparently, though, the hotel wasn't quite big enough, because I saw people moving back and forth in a construction area attached to the right wing. Saws, dril s, and more whined, and hoarse shouts drifted over to us. I hoped Daphne and I didn't get stuck in a room on that side of the resort with al the noise.

Final y, the professors got everyone rounded up and led us inside the hotel, which was in the center of the whole Powder complex. When I'd first come to Mythos, I thought the academy was total y pretentious, snobby, and froufrou with its suits of armor and old, expensive paintings. But this place put the academy to shame.

Everything about the hotel was massive, from the stone fireplace that took up one entire wal to the thick wooden beams that supported the roof to the diamond-shaped skylights set into the ceiling. An enormous chandelier made out of curved animal horns hung in the center of the lobby, while plush leather chairs and couches were scattered throughout the room, inviting folks to sit, chat, and feel the heat of the crackling fire. Bits of gold and silver leaf glinted here and there among the gray stone, while the hardwood floors gleamed like sheets of bronze underfoot. It was the nicest, fanciest, most expensive place I'd ever been to.

But even here I couldn't get away from the statues.

A thirty-foot-tal statue of a woman stood in the center of the lobby, her head and chin held high, her arms stretched up toward the sky. Strings of silver snowflakes had been wrapped around her body, making her look like she was summoning the beginnings of a blizzard. Skadi, the Norse goddess of winter. I recognized her from my myth-history book. Other smal er statues stood in the corners of the lobby and peeped out from recesses in the stone wal s, like Ul , another Norse winter god, and Boreas, the Greek god of the North Wind.

Like the alpine vil age, the hotel had also been decorated for Christmas. Fat oranges and bags of figs gleamed like jewels in the silver bowls that had been placed at the statues' feet, right next to goblets fil ed with spiced mulberry wine. Hol y had been shaped into crowns and ringed the heads of the various gods and goddesses while fat bal s of mistletoe dangled from their cold fingers. Cedar and juniper trees covered with twinkling white lights clustered together in groups in the lobby, the fragrant scent of their needles mixing with the sweet smoke from the fire.

The crackling flames gave everything a soft, cheery glow, but I couldn't help but feel that the statues were al staring at me, just like the ones at the academy always did. I looked at Skadi. Maybe it was just my imagination in overdrive again, but the snowflakes twisted around her body seemed to wink at me one by one, like cold, cold eyes. I shivered and looked away.

"Isn't this place incredible?" Daphne asked from beside me.

"Yeah," I muttered. "Incredible."

Daphne smirked, not noticing my less-than-enthusiastic tone.

"Told you. And just wait until you see the rooms.

They're just as posh, and they even have a spa, too, where you can get al kinds of facials and other treatments. Watch my stuff, and I'l go get our room assignment and key cards so we can start exploring. Come on, Carson." The two of them headed over and got in the line that had already formed by the front desk.

Daphne and I would be sharing a room on one of the floors that had been designated girls only, while Carson would be bunking with one of his band buddies on one of the guys' floors.

The kids from the New York academy must have already arrived, because I only recognized about half of the students mil ing around the lobby. But real y, they were al the same-warrior whiz kids dressed in the most expensive clothes their parents could buy. Sparks of magic cracked and flashed in the air as the students from the two schools mingled together, talking, laughing, and saying hel o to old friends.

I dragged our bags over to one of the wal s and stood there, just staring at everything and trying hard not to gawk.

Despite the creepy statues, the hotel real y was gorgeous.

Back when my mom had been alive, we'd taken plenty of vacations, but we'd never stayed anywhere as nice as this.

Powder was the kind of place where everything was designer this and designer that, right down to the chocolate mints they put on your pil ows at night.

"Pretty impressive, isn't it?" a low voice murmured beside me.

I turned my head and found myself staring at one of the cutest guys I'd ever seen. Seriously. He was just ... perfect.

White blond hair, intense blue eyes, fantastic cheekbones.

And if al that wasn't enough, he had a great body, too. I could see his muscles, even underneath the black turtleneck sweater he wore. He looked to be about my age or maybe a year or two older. At first, I didn't think he was talking to me-I mean, why would he?-but then, when he kept staring at me, I realized that he was.

"Yeah," I said, breathless. "It's amazing."

"So is the view from where I'm standing," the guy said.

And then he smiled at me.

It was like someone flipped a switch and suddenly turned on al the lights in the lobby-okay, okay, al the lights everywhere-

because the guy went from cute to downright gorgeous, helped along by the two tiny dimples in his cheeks. Seriously, al that and dimples, too. He looked like a model who'd just stepped out of the page of some artsy fashion magazine. He was just that good-looking-the kind of guy you just couldn't help but stare at.