"You knew all along, didn't you?" I asked Grandma Frost as we sat in the kitchen eating the sticky, sinfully sweet chocolate fudge that she'd just made. "That we come from a long line of warrior chicks who serve a kick-ass goddess."

"Warrior chicks? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" Grandma Frost smiled and reached for another piece of fudge, her bright scarves fluttering with the motion. She'd just been doing a reading for a client, so she was dressed in her usual Gypsy clothes.

I rolled my eyes. "Come on, you know what I mean."

"Of course I know. That's what makes us Gypsies, Gwen."

I frowned. "How does being warrior chicks make us Gypsies? You never told me that before."

Grandma Frost stared at me, a serious look on her face. "Gwen, why do you think that we can do the things that we can do? Why do you think that I can see the future or that you can touch objects and know everything about them? Where do you think that power comes from?"

I opened my mouth, but no answer came to me. I shrugged.

"We can do those things and more because Nike has gifted us with that power. Back when our very first ancestor served Nike, the goddess rewarded her by giving her the gift of seeing the future. Over the years and generations, that psychic gift has taken on many different forms, like your mother's ability to sense the truth and your psychometry."

"But I thought we were Gypsies," I said. "Not warriors."

" 'Gypsy' is just another word for those who are gifted by the gods," Grandma said. "Who have special powers and abilities like we do. We're just as strong in our magic and just as much warriors as all the Valkyries, Amazons, and other kids you go to school with."

So Daphne had been right after all. I was a warrior, just with a different kind of magic.

I thought for a minute about what my grandma had said. "Okay, so Nike gave us our powers. I guess I can understand that. But there are tons of other gods and goddesses out there. I mean, you should see all the statues of them in the library. So ... are there more people out there like us? More Gypsies? More people Nike has gifted?"

"Yes and no." Grandma Frost stared at me. "There are more Gypsies out there, but each family is gifted by a single god or goddess, which means that we are the only ones gifted by Nike, just like there is only one family that has been gifted by Athena and Ares and Odin and so on."

"Have you ever met any of the other Gypsies?" I asked.

"Yes," Grandma Frost said in a dark tone. "But not all of them are like us."

"What do you mean?"

She stared at me with her violet eyes. "Not all of them are good, Gwen. Some of them are lazy or indifferent or use their powers to gain wealth and power. And some of them are Reapers."

"Reapers? Like Jasmine?"

Grandma Frost nodded. "Just like Jasmine-and worse."

So there were other people, other kids, running around just like me who had powers? And some of them were Reapers of Chaos? I shivered at the thought.

"So why didn't you tell me any of this before?" I asked. "About where our gifts come from and Reapers and Gypsies and why I got shipped off to Mythos in the first place? It would have made things ... easier for me. Simpler. At least, then I would have understood. I would have given the academy a chance. I would have believed in all the magic to start with."

I hesitated, thinking about something else that had been on my mind lately. "Did you and Mom ever ... go to Mythos? Were you students there, too?"

Grandma gave me a sad smile. "We did. And that's why we decided that you shouldn't have to."

"What do you mean?"

She sighed. "We're part of a dangerous world, pumpkin. Gypsies, Reapers, Loki. We're all tangled together like a ball of string. You can't have one without all the others. But your mom and I wanted better for you. We wanted you to have a normal life. We wanted you to grow up slowly, naturally, without always worrying about Reapers trying to kill you."

I thought of Daphne and Carson and Logan and all the other kids at school. About how all the violence and gods and magic seemed normal to them-and about how Carson had told me that they'd all lost somebody to the Reapers. Suddenly I was grateful for what my mom and grandma had done, for protecting me as long as they had.

"But then, I picked up Paige's hairbrush and had my magical freak-out," I said. "Is that why Professor Metis came here?"

"Partly." Shadows darkened Grandma Frost's violet eyes, and she didn't say anything for a moment. "Metis thought that it was time for you to go to Mythos, for you to learn where your power really came from and how to better control it as it grows. And I'm not as young as I used to be, Gwen. I wanted you to go to the academy, too, so you'd be safe. At least, as safe as you can be there."

"But what about Nike?" I asked. "Did you and Mom serve as her Champions, too?"

Grandma nodded. "We did. Nike comes to us all and asks us to serve her when she thinks that we are ready."

"So why didn't you tell me about that either?"

"Because it was your decision to make, Gwen. Just like your mom and I made it before you. Just like your own daughter might make it someday." She sighed. "So many of the kids at Mythos are expected to be great warriors from birth. Your mom and I didn't want to put that kind of pressure on you. We wanted you to make your own choices because you wanted to, not because you felt you had to uphold some great family legacy. Besides, being a Champion is as good as having a target painted on your back. Reapers kill warriors, sure, but they'll do anything-anything-to take down a Champion."

My stomach twisted at her words. "Why is that?"

"Because Champions always have the strongest magic, the best fighting skills, the bravest hearts. That's why they're picked to be Champions in the first place-because they can do the most good. That makes them the biggest threats to Loki and his Reapers. We just wanted to protect you as long as we could, pumpkin." Grandma paused. "And we also didn't want you to grow up to be as spoiled as some of the kids are."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "It's hard living in a world where you know Reapers want nothing more than to kill you and your children. So most warrior parents indulge their kids and give them whatever they want-cars, clothes, jewelry-just in case they're not around to see their kids grow up. I'm not saying that it's wrong or it's right, but it's not how your mom wanted to raise you. She wanted you to know the value of money-and life, too. Most especially life."

That must be why the professors at Mythos let the kids get away with so many things, too-smoking, drinking, hooking up-because the profs knew that we could all be killed by Reapers on any given day and they thought that the students should live it up in the meantime. But Grandma's words raised another question in my mind.

"So do we have money, then? I mean ... a lot of money? Like the other kids' parents do? And if we do, then why do I have to work in the Library of Antiquities?"

Grandma shrugged again. "Not as much money as some, but enough. More than enough. Your working in the library was actually Professor Metis's idea. She thought interacting with all the other students there would help you adjust to the academy. Of course, it didn't quite work out that way."

No, it hadn't. I pushed the plate of chocolate fudge away. My head was spinning with too much information for me to enjoy them right now. I still couldn't quite believe everything that Grandma had told me, everything that I'd learned the past few days, all the secrets that had finally been revealed to me. Knowing that I was in danger now because I'd agreed to be Nike's Champion didn't exactly put me in a great mood. But that was the thing about secrets-they were almost never good.

Grandma Frost didn't say a word. Instead, she reached over and put her hand on top of mine. As always, I felt the soft, warm blanket of her love wrap around me. And I knew that no matter what happened, no matter how crazy things got, Grandma Frost would always love me just as much as I loved her. Just as much as I'd loved my mom.

I thought about how I'd seen my mom, Grace, when I'd first picked up Vic, the sword. Of how I was now part of the same thing that she had been. Of how my mom had smiled at me like she approved of what I was doing. The idea, whether it was true or not, made me miss her a little less, made the ache of her loss and my guilt over her death a little easier to bear. Maybe this was one secret that I could live with after all.

"But enough talk about Gypsies and gods and everything else," Grandma said, a light, teasing tone creeping into her voice. "Metis told me about seeing you at the homecoming dance with a very cute Spartan boy, the same Spartan boy who helped you that night in the library. You've been holding out on me, Gwen. Now, I want to know all about him."

I still had more things to figure out, more things that I wanted to ask her about my mom and the academy and being Nike's Champion. But all that could wait. Right now, I just wanted to enjoy this moment with my grandma.

"You want to know about Logan Quinn?" I asked, arching my eyebrow.

"Every little detail," Grandma quipped. "Now spill, as you kids say."

I just laughed and shook my head. We stayed there in the kitchen, eating and talking, the rest of the afternoon.

Chapter 25

The next day, Professor Metis called me into her office. The last time that I'd been in here had been the day that I'd come to Mythos Academy at the start of the fall semester, and I'd been too angry and pissed at her and everyone else to really notice things.

Old, thick myth-history books lined the shelves in the bookcases that covered two of the walls, while a couple of clay pots of sunflowers and violets sat on the windowsill. Above them on either side of the window were various plaques, showing all of the professor's degrees and awards. There were tons of those. Metis's desk was piled high with papers and pens and stuff, along with a tiny marble statue that perched in the left-hand corner. It looked like a smaller version of the one of Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom, that stood in the Library of Antiquities, but I wasn't sure.

But the weirdest things were the weapons. A whole rack of them stood in the corner. A couple of swords, a staff, some daggers, even a crossbow and the bolts for it. With her silver glasses and quiet, scholarly vibe, Metis had never struck me as being a warrior. Not like Coach Ajax, anyway, who was all ripped, muscled, and totally Hulked out.

Professor Metis was staring out the window at the quad when I came inside. I shut the door behind me and stood there, waiting until she noticed me. After a moment, she turned around and smiled at me.

"Hello, Gwen. Sit down, please. There are some things that we need to talk about."

Yeah, I'd figured as much, since, you know, I'd been involved in the death of a student, the destruction of the library, and a whole bunch of other Bad, Bad Things. So I did as she asked and took the seat in front of her desk.

Professor Metis sat down as well. Her green eyes flicked to one of the framed photos on the desk, but since it was turned around the other way, I couldn't see who was in it. Her husband or kids, I supposed. Maybe a boyfriend or a pet.

"How are you today, Gwendolyn?"

I shrugged. "Fine, more or less."

And I really was. Yeah, I'd seen and done some bad stuff in the past few days, and I'd learned so many things about myself, my Gypsy gift, and why I was here at Mythos that it kind of blew my mind. And maybe I was still totally freaked out that a goddess had chosen me to be her Champion. But at least I had some answers now, and I'd learned more than one secret about myself. I thought I was handling it all okay.

"Well, I wanted to say that I was most pleased by the report that you turned in yesterday," Metis said. "The one about Nike. You're getting an A on it."

I sat up a little straighter in my chair. After everything that had happened, writing the report had been easy. I'd actually been paying more attention in myth-history class, too. At night, when I had time, I'd started reading everything that I could get my hands on at the library about Nike, Loki, and the Chaos War. There were so many books with so many conflicting stories that it was hard to know what was real and what wasn't. But it had always been that way for me here at Mythos Academy, the school of myths, magic, and warrior whiz kids.

"Thanks," I said. "It was easy for me to write. I, uh, had a lot of experience to draw on with it after everything that happened in the library."

"Yes," Professor Metis said in a quiet voice. "I supposed that you did."

Metis reached up, took off her silver glasses, and stared at me. For the first time, I noticed how pretty she was, with her black hair, bronze skin, and green eyes. She was also younger than I'd thought, about my mom's age before she'd died-in her early forties.

"We need to talk about what happened in the library," Metis said. "Because while your actions were very brave and noble, they've also put you in a great deal of danger."

"Danger?" I asked. "What kind of danger?"

"You mentioned that Jasmine told you about her family, about how they're all Reapers who serve Loki. I have reason to believe that Jasmine told them what she was doing, that she was planning to use the Bowl to sacrifice Morgan," Metis said. "Her parents and her older brother have gone into hiding, along with the rest of her family. Aunts, uncles, cousins, everyone. They've all gone underground. The members of the Pantheon can't find them anywhere."

"Wait a minute. It sounds like you were going to ... arrest them or something."