Dark Frost (5 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Estep

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Action & Adventure, #Survival Stories, #Paranormal, #General

BOOK: Dark Frost
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So I sat down on a chair, closed my fingers around the paper, and waited for the memories and emotions associated with the map to fill my mind.
The first image that popped into my head was one of the Reaper girl. She wore the same black robe and rubber mask she’d had on today, and she stood in an opulent living room. Dark wooden furniture, heavy, antique sofas, large paintings on the walls, crystal vases full of red and black roses. I watched as the Reaper girl leaned over the map, which was spread out on a table in front of her.
“Are you sure the dagger’s in the library?” she asked.
She turned her head, and I realized that she was talking to a man. He wasn’t wearing a robe and mask like she was, so I could see his face, but he wasn’t one of the academy professors or staff members, so I had no idea who he was.
“I’m sure,” he said. “All the locating spells we’ve done confirm it. The Helheim Dagger is hidden somewhere in the Library of Antiquities.”
The Reaper girl looked up at a painting on the wall, one that showed a Black roc. I’d seen pictures of the gigantic bird in my myth-history book before, but this painting showed exactly how large and fierce it was. The roc was big, just as big as other mythological creatures like Nemean prowlers and Fenrir wolves, with curved, black talons that were capable of plucking a man off the ground—or tearing him to pieces. Its entire body was a glossy black, although this painting emphasized the bloody red tinge to the creature’s feathers and the red spark that burned in the depths of its liquid black eyes.
The Reaper girl stared out at the rest of the room, and I realized that practically every piece of furniture and knickknack had an image of the bird painted on or carved into it. The chairs, the tables, several vases, a pair of bookends, even a marble statue in the corner. Someone was a little obsessed.
“Well, then,” the Reaper girl said in a smirking voice. “If the dagger’s in the library, I guess we should go get it, shouldn’t we?”
The two of them started discussing where the dagger might be hidden and how they could go about pinpointing its exact location. Apparently, whatever security spells Nickamedes had placed in and around the library were blocking the bad guy’s magic, which was why he couldn’t be more specific about the dagger’s location.
I frowned. Maybe I wasn’t concentrating hard enough, but it seemed like there was something slightly off about the memories attached to the map. Something obvious I was missing. Something that didn’t seem quite ... real, like it wasn’t a genuine memory or feeling. But try as I might, I couldn’t figure out what it was.
Slowly, the flickers and flashes of images and feelings faded away, telling me that I’d gotten all the memories I could from the map. I opened my eyes and looked at the others.
“The Reapers have used some kind of magic mumbo jumbo to track the dagger,” I said. “They can’t zoom in on its exact location, but they’ve narrowed it down to somewhere in the library.”
“If they think it’s hidden in the library, then they’ll do whatever it takes to breach campus security so they can search for it themselves,” Ajax said. “I need to tell Nickamedes about this. Raven, too.”
Metis nodded, and Ajax left the office to go look for the others. Then, the professor let out a weary sigh, sounding just as tired as Ajax had a few minutes before.
“What’s wrong?” Daphne asked. “This is good, right? That we know where the dagger is?”
A grim smile curved Metis’s lips. “Yes and no. It’s good that we have a place to start looking for the dagger, but the library is enormous, and it could be anywhere inside. Even if you had an army of people at your disposal, it would still take years to thoroughly, completely search all seven floors, not to mention the patios and balconies outside and the surrounding grounds.”
“There’s something else, isn’t there? Something else bad?” Carson asked.
Metis looked at him and nodded. “The bad is that not only do we now know where the Helheim Dagger is, but the Reapers do, too—and they’ll do whatever it takes to find it first.”
I thought of all the awful things I’d seen today. The Reapers storming into the coliseum and killing everyone within arm’s reach; Carson getting stabbed; Daphne screaming; Morgan crouching over Samson’s dead body; the blood that now seemed to coat everything inside the coliseum.
Metis was right. The Reapers wanted the Helheim Dagger, and they didn’t care what they had to do or whom they had to kill to find it.
Which meant that everyone at Mythos Academy was in serious, serious danger.
Chapter 5
 
We left the office and went back out to the main floor. The bodies had been cleared away, but the Mythos students who’d survived the attack clustered together in small groups, watching the men and women in the black coveralls take photographs and do other forensic-type stuff. Raven stood next to one of the pillars, supervising the evidence collection and cleanup.
Some of the kids who lived in or near the city were waiting for their parents to come get them and take them home, while others were going straight to the academy. I’d called my Grandma Frost and told her what had happened, and she was on her way here. She’d dropped Daphne and I off at the coliseum earlier, where we’d met Carson, who had taken a cab from the academy.
Logan, Daphne, Carson, and I drifted over to one side of the coliseum, not standing with the other kids, but not too far away from them either. Some of the students were still crying or just sitting on the floor with dazed looks on their faces. A few, like Abigail Rose, a smart Valkyrie who was in my English lit class, were trying to help the others. Abigail moved through the crowd, passing out bottles of water and tissues and keeping everyone calm. She noticed me watching her and gave me a small smile, which I returned.
My eyes scanned over the other students. To my surprise, more than a few looked back at me, and I realized that people were staring at my friends and me.
By now, everyone knew we’d fought a group of Reapers and had killed several of them. To the others, I suppose that made us heroes, although all we’d been trying to do was just survive. The four of us had been lucky we’d been in the weapons room. If we’d been out here on the main floor, we would have been injured like the other kids were—or worse.
One girl in particular kept staring at me. She was about my size, with a body that was lean and strong. Her hair was a rich, auburn color and frizzed out like crazy, just like mine did, but she had the most amazing golden eyes, like two perfect topazes had been set into her face. Even with a red, runny nose, splotchy face, and tears sliding down her cheeks, she was still quite beautiful. She wore designer clothes like all the kids at Mythos, but she kept tugging at her sleeves, like her shirt was too tight, even though it hung loosely from her shoulders. The girl noticed me watching her. Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away.
“Who’s that?” I asked, jerking my head in the girl’s direction.
Daphne looked over my shoulder. “Oh, that’s Vivian Holler. She’s a second-year student, too. An Amazon, I think. She’s friends with Savannah and Talia.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen her before.”
Daphne shrugged. “Vivian’s kind of quiet from what I know. Doesn’t say much, reads a lot, gets good grades, but isn’t so good with weapons. Kind of like you, Gwen.”
“Gee. Thanks,” I said in a dry tone.
Daphne rolled her eyes and laid her head on Carson’s shoulder. She hadn’t let the band geek get more than a few steps away from her since the attack. Carson hugged Daphne to his chest, and a few pink sparks of magic shot off her fingertips and flickered in the air between them. Whatever else had happened today, at least Carson was okay. I don’t know what Daphne would have done if he’d died. I don’t know what
I
would have done.
Logan grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the others.
“You know, this isn’t how I wanted school to start,” Logan said. “Or how I pictured seeing you again after the break, Gypsy girl.”
He gave me a small, sad smile. No, nothing about today had gone the way I’d hoped it would.
“Me either.” I bit my lip. “Do you—do you think this is my fault? The attack?”
Logan frowned. “Why would you say that?”
My stomach twisted, but I drew in a breath and forced myself to get the words out. “Because I haven’t found the Helheim Dagger yet like Nike wants me to. Maybe if I’d found it by now, none of this would have happened. Maybe no one would have gotten hurt today. Maybe Carson wouldn’t have almost died. Maybe—maybe Samson and the other kids would still be alive.”
The Spartan put his hands on my arms. The heat of his body chased away some of the chill that had sunk into my bones. “That’s crazy and you know it, Gypsy girl. None of this is your fault. This is how it’s been ever since the other gods trapped Loki in that prison realm. The Reapers have been trying to free him, and they’ve been killing warriors like us ever since. Even if they hadn’t been looking for the dagger, they probably would have come here today anyway, just so they could attack the other students and steal the artifacts. So don’t you ever think for one second that any of this is your fault.”
I nodded, although I didn’t really believe him. No matter what he said, I couldn’t help thinking that if only I’d been smarter, I would have found the dagger by now. If only I’d been quicker, I could have kept Carson from being stabbed. If only I’d been stronger, I could have killed the Reaper girl and avenged my mom.
If only ...
Sometimes I thought those were the two most horrible words in the world.
Logan drew me into the strong circle of his arms. I put my head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around me, just holding me—
“Bitch,” a voice behind me muttered.
Still in Logan’s arms, I raised my head and turned around to see Savannah Warren glaring at me from a few feet away. Savannah was a lovely Amazon with gorgeous green eyes and red hair that tumbled down her back like a copper waterfall. She also happened to be Logan’s ex-girlfriend, the one he’d broken up with before the holiday break.
Savannah clutched two bottles of water in her hands, and her fingers tightened around one of them, like she wanted to throw it at me. With her Amazon quickness, she could bean me in the head with the bottle before I’d even realized she’d thrown it—or could even think about ducking.
Thanks to the gossip that had gone around campus before the holidays, I knew Savannah blamed me for Logan’s breaking up with her. I supposed she had a right to feel that way. After all, I’d demanded that the Spartan kiss me or let me go during the Winter Carnival trip the students had taken a few weeks before the break.
I’d thought nothing could make me feel any worse today than I already did, but then I saw the hurt that filled Savannah’s face as she looked at Logan holding me. I knew that pain—it was the same sharp, longing ache I’d felt whenever I’d seen Logan kissing the other girl. I’d only wanted the Spartan to care about me like I did him. I’d never intended for Savannah to get hurt—but she had.
What a mess I’d made of everything. I stepped out of Logan’s arms, even though it was already too late.
“Savannah?” Vivian asked in a soft voice from her spot on the floor several feet away.
The Amazon glared at me another second, then walked over to her friend. She handed Vivian a bottle of water, which the other girl opened with shaking hands and started gulping down. Some of the water spilled onto Vivian’s shirt, and Savannah handed her friend a couple of tissues to mop it up. Every few seconds, though, Savannah’s angry eyes would cut to me.
Logan sighed. “I’ll go talk to her.”
I shook my head. “No, she’s got a right to be mad at me.”
“Oh, yes, she does,” another voice drifted over to me. “Because everyone knows how crazy Logan is about you, Gwen. Why, it’s almost the stuff of legend at Mythos. How the Gypsy girl tamed the wild, bad-boy Spartan.”
Footsteps sounded behind me, and Morgan moved to stand beside me. She looked at Savannah, who was still glaring at me while she talked to Vivian in a low voice.
“Careful, Gypsy,” Morgan murmured. “Savannah might look sweet and innocent, but the Amazon has a temper. She’s not someone you want to mess with. You know, if you keep this up, you’ll turn into me pretty soon. The school slut who goes around stealing other girls’ boyfriends.”
The Valkyrie let out a harsh, ugly laugh, and a few green sparks hissed in the air around her. Morgan had a reputation for hooking up with any guy who caught her eye, one that had only gotten worse after everyone found out she’d been sneaking around with her best friend’s boyfriend.
I’d never figured out how much Morgan remembered of the night Jasmine had tried to sacrifice her to Loki. Jasmine had used a powerful artifact called the Bowl of Tears to basically turn Morgan into a mindless puppet, and Morgan had claimed not to know what had happened. But I had a hunch that she remembered everything Jasmine had done to her, because Morgan had changed since then. She didn’t seem as cold and cruel anymore, and she’d even helped me during the Winter Carnival when I’d decided to sneak into another kid’s room. Now, the Valkyrie was almost someone I thought I could be friends with because she’d gone through some of the same terrible things that I had.
“I don’t think you’re the school slut, Morgan,” I said in a quiet voice. “I think you kept it together today when the Reapers attacked. You knew you couldn’t fight so many of them, so you hid instead. I think that makes you really brave and really smart.”
The Valkyrie stared at me in surprise. After a second, her eyes narrowed, but there was a hint of a smile on her face. “You know what? You’re actually okay, Gwen.”
Morgan headed off to the other side of the coliseum. A soft snort caught my attention, and I realized that Savannah was still glaring at me. She must have heard Morgan’s comment about Logan’s being crazy about me, because anger once again twisted the Amazon’s face.
But the weirdest thing was that Savannah’s eyes were glowing red.
Okay, okay, so they weren’t really
glowing,
but it seemed to me like a bit of fire flickered in her eyes for the briefest second, the kind of eerie crimson color I’d come to associate with Reapers.
I blinked. As suddenly as it had appeared, the red spark was gone, and Savannah’s face was normal once more, making me wonder if I’d only imagined the whole thing. I rubbed my head, which was suddenly aching—
“Gwen!” a familiar voice called out. “Gwen!”
I stood on my tiptoes. An older woman threaded her way through the crowd of people in the coliseum. She looked out of place with her lavender silk shirt, black pants, and black shoes with toes that curled up, like a genie that had somehow escaped from her bottle. Silk scarves covered her body, flowing around her in waves of purple, gray, and green. Silver coins jingled together like musical fringe on the ends of the scarves, the noise echoing to the ceiling and back down again. A coat hung off her shoulders. It matched the iron-gray color of her thick hair, although her eyes were a bright violet in her wrinkled face—the same violet that mine were.
Yeah, my grandma, Geraldine Frost, might have looked out of place in the bloody chaos of the museum, but the sight of her couldn’t have made me happier.
Grandma spotted me and hurried in my direction.
I broke away from Logan and threw myself into her open arms. “Grandma!”
She hugged me tight. “It’s okay, pumpkin. I’m here now. Everything’s going to be all right.”
I didn’t know if anything would ever be all right again, but I closed my eyes and hugged her even tighter, pretending it was just for this one moment.
 
Grandma hugged me for several minutes before finally letting me go. Then, she looked over at Logan, who was standing behind me.
“I take it this is the Spartan boy you’ve been telling me so much about?” She smiled. “Why, he’s even more handsome than you said. You’ve been holding out on me, pumpkin.”
A fierce blush flooded my cheeks. “Grandma!”
She gave me an amused look. “He was going to meet me sooner or later, pumpkin. Trust me on that. I just didn’t think it would be today—or in this awful way.”
She was right, and there was nothing I could do now but make the introductions. “Logan Quinn this is my grandma, Geraldine Frost. Grandma, this is Logan. My, uh, friend.”
I winced as I said the last word. I didn’t know that we were just
friends,
but Logan hadn’t exactly declared me to be his true love either. Or even just his girlfriend. We hadn’t even been out on a date yet.
The two of them shook hands. Logan started to let go, but Grandma Frost clasped both of her hands around his. After a second, her violet eyes took on an empty, glassy look, like she was staring at something very far away, and I felt this presence stir in the air around her—something old, watchful, and knowing.
Grandma Frost was a Gypsy like me, which meant that she had a gift just like I did. In grandma’s case, she was psychic and could see the future. Now, it looked like she was getting a glimpse of Logan’s.
“It’s not your fault, Logan,” Grandma murmured to the Spartan. “It wasn’t back then, and it won’t be in the future.”
Logan’s face paled at her words, like he knew exactly what she was talking about. He opened his mouth like he wanted to ask my grandma a question but then clamped his lips shut.
After a moment, the invisible force swirling around Grandma faded and so did the vacant look in her eyes. She dropped Logan’s hand and stepped back.

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