I had heard about basilisks, although I had never seen one in person. Unlike Fenrir wolves and Nemean prowlers, which were bigger, stronger mythological versions of wolves and panthers, basilisks didn’t exist in nature. They were a magical mishmash of other creatures and could only be conjured up by a powerful artifact.
That sick, sick feeling in my stomach intensified, morphing into a ball of cold, heavy dread. The basilisks sounded chillingly similar to chimeras, other monsters that could only be summoned by an artifact like Typhon’s Scepter. A Reaper had stolen the scepter from our Library of Antiquities a few weeks ago, and Covington and Drake had been using it ever since. Covington had summoned a room full of chimeras at the Cormac Museum, and the monsters would have killed me, if not for the Eir gryphons, which had saved me.
“That pen, that artifact, summons basilisks, doesn’t it?” I asked.
Takeda gave me a grim look. “Yes, it does. Legend has it that Serket was experimenting on Black rocs, trying to create a faster, stronger version of the birds, but her poisons twisted the rocs into something dark and hideous, and the basilisks were born. Serket took one of the basilisk feathers, shaped it into that pen, and infused the artifact with her magic so that she could conjure up the creatures whenever she wanted. Basilisks are extremely dangerous and can easily rip a person to shreds with their razor-sharp beaks and talons.”
We all leaned back in our seats, trying to put a little distance between us and the photos on the monitors. Even Daphne shifted in her seat in North Carolina.
“Serket is the Egyptian goddess associated with poisons,” I said, thinking out loud. “Let me guess. Basilisks are poisonous too?”
“Yes, they are.” Takeda pointed at the photos. “See those spikes on top of the basilisk’s comb and the one on its tail? They are full of poison. One scratch is all it takes to kill most people. Death usually occurs in a few minutes.”
“Terrific,” I muttered. “Because we don’t have enough mythological monsters running around trying to kill us already.”
Silence fell over the briefing room as everyone digested this new information and threat.
Daphne cleared her throat. “As soon as the pen popped up in my program, I told Gwen, and she asked me to let you guys know. I forwarded all the information I have on the artifact to the Midgard.”
Takeda nodded. “I received your email. Thank you.”
She nodded back at him. “I’ve also got some other programs and searches running on artifacts, including that creepy jewelry box from the Cormac Museum. Gwen is really worried about that one, especially since she couldn’t get any vibes off it.”
My gaze flicked to the shelf in the back of the room where the box was sitting. Gwen had psychometry magic, which let her touch any object and automatically know its history, as well as see and feel the emotions of all the people who had used it. But she hadn’t seen or felt anything when she’d touched the box, not so much as a single memory or a flicker of emotion. That ball of dread in my stomach got a little colder and heavier, but I focused on Daphne again.
“So far, I haven’t found anything on the box, which is weird, since you would think that someone out there would know something about it.” She shook her head, making her blond hair fly around her shoulders. “But I’ll keep searching, and I’ll let you guys know the second that I find something.”
“Thank you, Miss Cruz,” Takeda said. “We’ll take it from here.”
“No thanks needed. I’m always happy to help fight Reapers. Good luck.” Daphne nodded at us, then leaned forward and tapped a key on her computer. She disappeared from sight, and the center monitor went black again.
The photos of Serket’s Pen remained behind on the other screens, and I focused on the pen’s silver nib, the part shaped like a basilisk. That ball of dread in my stomach grew even colder and heavier than before. The Reapers already had Typhon’s Scepter, and we couldn’t let them steal another powerful artifact, especially one that could conjure more monsters. But I had a bad, bad feeling that Covington and Drake were already three steps ahead of us.
I just wondered who would get to the artifact first—and who might die in the process.
Chapter Four
We studied the photos of Serket’s Pen for another minute. Then Takeda pushed his chair back from the table and got to his feet. The briefing was far from over.
“As soon as Miss Cruz contacted me, I started putting together information on Serket’s Pen.” He passed out the file folders that were stacked up on the table until we each had one. “The artifact’s history, its supposed powers, the various museums that have housed it over the years. All the usual research. But the most interesting thing is its current location.”
I flipped through the papers in the folder. It was all pretty standard stuff, the kind of dry, boring information you could find in any myth-history book. So I skipped over the written reports and went to the back of the file, where there was a photo of a gray stone mansion that looked more like a museum than someone’s home. The picture must have been taken in the spring, because bright, colorful flowers were blooming in the surrounding gardens.
My eyes narrowed. “Hey, I know this place. This is the Idun Estate.”
“What’s that?” Zoe asked.
I held up the photo where everyone could see it. “It’s this fancy mansion full of mythological artifacts and regular old antiques. It sits on some nature conservancy land, so there are gardens, hiking trails, and more. It’s about thirty minutes away from campus. The academy has some partnership with the estate, so we go there for field trips. It’s a big tourist destination too, especially in the spring when all the flowers are blooming.”
Takeda nodded. “That’s right, Rory. It also happens to be the current location of Serket’s Pen. The artifact has been housed at the estate for more than a year now as part of an exhibit.”
Surprise jolted through me. “Wait a second. My myth-history class is supposed to go to the estate tomorrow. To see that exhibit. Professor Dalaja is superexcited about the trip. She’s been talking about it for weeks now. This can’t be a coincidence.”
“I don’t think that it’s a coincidence either.” Takeda started pacing back and forth. “We know that Covington and Drake are stealing artifacts, so the Protectorate has been watching places like the Idun Estate.”
“You think the Reapers are going to use the field trip as cover,” Ian said, picking up on Takeda’s train of thought. “You think Covington and Drake are going to sneak into the mansion while the Mythos students are there and steal Serket’s Pen, just like they used the Fall Costume Ball to sneak into the Cormac Museum when they tried to steal the jewelry box.”
“I do. So far, the Protectorate guards haven’t seen any sign of the Reapers near the Idun Estate, but with all the students going there tomorrow, Covington might think he can sneak into the mansion, steal the artifact, and slip away undetected. Of course, we don’t know for sure that Covington is targeting Serket’s Pen or if he even knows about the artifact. But if he does, then the field trip is too good an opportunity for him to pass up.” Takeda stopped pacing. “And the pen isn’t the only thing I’m worried that the Reapers will try to steal.”
At first, I didn’t understand what he meant, but then I realized that everyone was staring at me. Takeda, Ian, Zoe, Mateo, Aunt Rachel. Even Babs, who had been silent through the briefing, was staring at me. Concern creased the sword’s metal face.
Understanding filled me, adding to that cold, heavy dread in my stomach. “Oh. You think Covington is after me again.”
“He did try to turn you into a Reaper at the Cormac Museum,” Takeda said. “And he’s not the kind to give up. Not when he knows how good a warrior you are. And especially not given his history with your parents.”
His voice was kind, and he was only stating the facts, but I still flinched at his words. Covington had been my parents’ boss, for lack of a better word. Covington was the one who had given my parents their Reaper assignme
nts, and he was the one who had told them what to steal, whom to hurt, and whom to kill.
When I had confronted him at the Cormac Museum, the evil librarian had said that he wanted me to take my parents’ place and help him destroy the Protectorate. He had almost turned me into a Reaper that night, something that had given me plenty of nightmares over the past few weeks, something that still worried me, more than I would ever admit to anyone.
“You and the artifact are both going to be at the estate at the same time,” Takeda continued. “Like you said, Rory, this can’t be a coincidence. I think Covington will show up and try to get his hands on you and the artifact.”
More dread filled me, but I pushed the emotion away, lifted my chin, and squared my shoulders. “Good.”
“Are you crazy?” Zoe threw her hands up into the air, making blue sparks of magic streak out of her fingertips. “Why is that good?”
“Because we know where he’s going to be, which means that we have a chance to catch him, to stop him before he hurts anyone else.”
Aunt Rachel shook her head. “No. Your going to the estate is too big a risk to take.”
“It’s too big a risk not to take,” I countered. “If we don’t catch Covington tomorrow, then who knows where he might strike next? Or how many more artifacts he might steal? Or how many more people he might hurt and kill? I have to do this. Not just for all those innocent people out there but for myself. And especially for my parents.”
This time, Aunt Rachel flinched. She also wanted revenge on Covington for my parents’ deaths. Her Spartan blood burned for it the same way mine did, but worry also filled her face. She didn’t want to lose me to Covington the same way she had lost her sister.
“This is why I joined the Midgard,” I said. “This is why I agreed to become Sigyn’s Champion. So please, let me do this. Let me go to the estate and stop Covington. Let me be the Spartan warrior that my parents wanted me to be, that I want to be.”
Aunt Rachel’s lips pressed together into a tight line. Worry still filled her face, but understanding and acceptance slowly dawned in her green gaze, along with more than a little pride. After several seconds, she nodded. I reached over and squeezed her hand. She squeezed mine back even tighter.
“Don’t worry,” Mateo said. “We’re a team, remember? We’ll watch out for Rory. We won’t let anything happen to her.”
“No, we won’t,” Ian agreed in a soft, serious voice. “No, we won’t.”
I looked at the Viking. His hands were still curled into fists, and his eyes practically glowed with determination. My breath caught in my throat, and a light, dizzy sensation filled my heart. I grinned at him. Ian grinned back at me, but then he dropped his gaze from mine, as if he were suddenly made uncomfortable by what he was feeling. Yeah, me too.
I focused on Takeda again. “I assume that you’ve already started scouting the estate?”
He nodded. “I have, and I also have some thoughts about how Covington and Drake might try to sneak into the mansion and steal the artifact. They’re all in your folders.”
“Good,” I replied. “Then let’s figure out how we’re going to stop them and keep everyone else safe.”
The others picked up their folders and started going through the information inside again, but I turned to Zoe.
“You know what this means.” I raised my eyebrows. “It’s the same thing we were talking about earlier, right before we went into the tunnels.”
She groaned. “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it.”
I grinned at her. “Buckle up, Valkyrie. We’re going on a field trip.”
* * *
We reviewed the information Takeda had compiled on Serket’s Pen and the Idun Estate and came up with a plan to capture Covington, Drake, and the other Reapers in case they showed up tomorrow.
By the time we finished, it was after six o’clock, my head was aching, and I was ready to leave the Bunker and quit thinking about artifacts, monsters, and Reapers for the night. We all got to our feet and went our separate ways.
Zoe wanted to work on her latest gadget, so she grabbed her things and headed toward one of the supply rooms in another part of the Bunker. Mateo tucked his laptop under his arm and followed her. Takeda had a final bit of work to do in his gym office, and Aunt Rachel needed to return to the dining hall to finish her prep work for tomorrow’s meals, so the two of them headed toward the secret entrance to use the tunnels.
Ian flashed me a smile. “If you don’t mind, I’ll ride back upstairs with you, Rory. Let me grab something from the armory, and I’ll meet you at the elevator.”
My heart skipped a beat the way it always did whenever he smiled at me like that. Okay, okay, whenever he smiled at me, period. “Sure.”
Ian walked down the hallway, leaving me alone in the briefing room. I listened, but the sounds of the others’ conversations had already faded away, and I didn’t even hear the whispers of their footsteps anymore. Good. I wanted to check on one more thing before I left, and I didn’t want anyone to see me do it.
I glanced at Babs, but her eye was shut, and soft snores rumbled out of her mouth. She had fallen asleep during the briefing and was deep into her latest nap. I left the sword propped up in her chair and headed toward the shelves in the back.
I walked up and down the aisles, examining all the weapons, armor, jewelry, and clothing on the shelves. A white identification card sat next to each item, telling whom it had belonged to and its supposed magical properties. Over the past few weeks, I had memorized the location of every single artifact, as well as all the information about it. My gaze moved from one shelf to another, making sure that everything was in its proper place and that nothing was missing.
I had been doing this same patrol for days now. My friends would have told me that I was being paranoid, that we were the only ones who even knew about the Bunker, and that the artifacts were perfectly safe. But Covington was very, very clever, and he had been the head librarian for a long time. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that he knew about the Bunker and its stash of artifacts. So whenever I came down here, I waited until I was alone and then checked and made sure that everything was still where it was supposed to be.
Better to be paranoid than sorry, especially when it came to the Reapers.
I stopped in front of a glass case that held a silver bracelet that looked identical to the one on my right wrist. The white card inside the glass claimed that the bracelet had belonged to Freya, the Norse goddess of love, but it was a fake, since I was wearing the real artifact.
I reached down and fingered the thin, delicate links on my wrist. I still didn’t know how or when my parents had stolen the artifact, but no one seemed to realize that I had it. I had been searching for information on the bracelet, but I hadn’t found anything so far, not even where it might have been stored before it was brought to the Bunker. It was a dead end, like everything else seemed to be lately. I sighed, let go of the links, and walked on.
Finally, I reached the shelf in the very back. My steps slowed, and I stopped in front of a long, rectangular jewelry box made of polished jet. At least, it looked like a jewelry box. We still didn’t know for sure exactly what was in it, which was why the box was sitting in a glass case on a shelf by itself.
Gleaming silver vines flowed across the top of the midnight-black stone, each one sprouting silver thorns that wrapped around several bright, glittering, blood-red rubies. Most people would have thought the box was quite lovely, especially the way the curlicued vines blossomed into those flowers. But I always thought the gems looked like bloody hearts being stabbed over and over again by those sharp silver thorns.
The longer I stared at the jewelry box, the more it seemed like a gaping black hole, since the stone soaked up all the light instead of reflecting it back. And light wasn’t the only thing the artifact diminished—it soaked up all my hope as well. Because we still didn’t know what the box did or what it contained, much less what evil things Covington wan
ted to do with it.
I glanced around and listened again, but I was still alone, so I opened the case and lifted the glass top out of the way. Then I drew in a breath, leaned forward, and took hold of the box.
In addition to my patrol, I also examined the jewelry box every single time I was in the Bunker, hoping that I would see some clue that I hadn’t noticed before or finally have some brilliant insight about it.
The box was surprisingly lightweight, although the black stone was warm to the touch, which always creeped me out. I turned the box this way and that, running my fingers over it, but I still didn’t see a way to actually open it. I also shook the box, but I couldn’t hear what—if anything—might be inside.
Another dead end.
Sighing, I put the artifact back into the case and shut the glass over it. I stared at the black jewelry box a moment longer, then turned away and headed back toward the center of the briefing room.
If only I could leave my fear, worry, and paranoia behind so easily.
Chapter Five
I went back to the table, slung the strap of my messenger bag across my chest, and grabbed Babs from her chair. That finally roused the sword from her nap, and she let out a loud, jaw-cracking yawn.
I left the briefing room and walked down a long hallway until I reached a small, square area. Gray Protectorate robes hung from the metal hooks that lined the walls, but I moved past them and headed toward the elevator. The door was open, so I stepped inside the car to wait for Ian.
I started to hook Babs’s scabbard to my belt, but she pointedly cleared her throat, so I lifted the sword up so that her eye was level with both of mine.
“Is something wrong?” I asked. “Are you worried about the mission tomorrow?”
“Oh, no,” Babs said. “Nothing like that. I have the utmost confidence in you, Rory, and I will be exceedingly proud to help you battle Covington, Drake, and all the other Reapers. I’m looking forward to it. You know, it’s been a few weeks since we’ve had a bona fide battle.”
Spartan Promise Page 4
