But this was worse—so much worse.
The pain of the puncture wound was excruciating, and it hurt so much that I could barely catch my breath. Tears streamed down my face, and I couldn’t tell if I was screaming or sobbing. Probably both at the same time. All the while, even as I struggled to breathe, I kept waiting for my magic to flare to life, for that cool, soothing power to rise up and start healing the wound.
But I didn’t feel my magic. I didn’t feel that cool, soothing power.
All I felt was the poison.
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. Takeda’s voice echoed in my mind. He had told us how deadly the basilisk’s poison was, and now I was experiencing it for myself.
I just didn’t think it would hurt this much.
The basilisk might have ripped its spike out of my side, but fire exploded in the wound, and the scalding sensation quickly spread through my entire body, growing hotter and more intense with every rapid beat of my heart. Still crying and gasping for breath, I looked down at my side, half expecting to see my blood boiling and my skin melting off my bones. Blood gushed out of the wound in a steady stream, but it wasn’t boiling, even though I felt like I was being cooked alive from the inside out.
Slowly, very, very slowly, I forced myself to stop sobbing and focus on my breathing. In and out, in and out, in and out. That was all I had to do. Any second now, my magic would kick in and start healing me, and that cool power would lessen the agonizing sensation.
But it didn’t happen.
There was only more burning, more poison, more pain.
I hadn’t had many opportunities to use the power that Sigyn had gifted me with, so I didn’t know what, if any, limits it might have. But I was starting to think that the basilisk’s magic was greater than mine and that the monster had injured and poisoned me too badly for my magic to work.
I was going to die here just like Gretchen had.
I glanced over at her body, and a wail of despair rose in my throat. I might have chosen to attack Covington rather than be kidnapped, but I didn’t want to die. No one did, in the end. Not even the bravest, strongest warrior. Not even a Spartan like me.
But I swallowed the anguished cry. I couldn’t change what had happened. The basilisk had wounded me terribly, and that was that. All I could do now was try to take the monster down with me. I might be dying, but I would die like a true Spartan, which meant fighting to the end.
The basilisk threw back its head and cawed with triumph.
“Rory!” Babs yelled, her mouth moving under my sweaty palm. “Do something! Fight back! Before it kills you!”
If I’d had the breath for it, I would have told her that the basilisk had already killed me and that all I could do now was try to take out the monster before it ripped me to shreds. The basilisk might have poisoned me, but I wasn’t going to be its bloody dinner too.
I gritted my teeth and blinked away the tears of pain that kept streaming down my face. Then I tightened my grip on Babs and waited for the basilisk to come close enough.
I was still sitting on the grass, and the monster let out another loud caw, then opened its beak and leaned down, as though it were going to root around in the wound in my side and pull out my liver or some other organ to snack on.
I gritted my teeth again, snapped up Babs, and drove her blade straight into the basilisk’s crimson eye.
This time, the basilisk screamed. Blood spurted out of the wound and spattered onto my hand, but that burning sensation was nothing compared with the poison still eating through my body, so I shoved my sword even deeper into the creature’s eye. This was going to be the last thing I ever did, and I was going to kill the monster dead, dead, dead—
The basilisk screamed again, then disintegrated into a cloud of feathers.
The feathers cascaded over me like black snow. As if I weren’t already hurting enough, my nose started twitching, and I couldn’t stop myself.
Achoo!
I sneezed.
And sneezed.
And sneezed some more.
Every loud, violent sneeze made even more pain spiral through my body, and I fell backward. My shoulder banged into something cold and hard, and I realized that I was slumped up against a tombstone. And not just any tombstone. The one I had hidden behind before. The one with that stupid basilisk crouching on top of it.
Sometimes I really hated irony.
Footsteps crunched in the grass, and Covington and Drake loomed over me.
Covington shook his head. “Oh, Rory. You don’t know when to give up, do you?”
Drake held up the syringe. “You don’t want to take her with us anymore?”
“Of course not. There’s no known cure for basilisk poison. She’ll be dead in another three minutes. If she’s lucky.”
Covington crouched down so that he was at eye level with me. By this point, I was exhausted, and I didn’t even have the strength to lift Babs to try to kill him, even though he was right beside me.
He looked at the black feather pen in his hand. I thought he might summon up another basilisk to finish me off, but he lowered the pen to his side and stared at me again.
“It’s too bad you got yourself killed, Rory. You were going to be a big part of my plan to change the mythological world.”
“What…plan?” I rasped. “Stealing artifacts…and killing people?”
“Oh, this is about so much more than merely killing people.” A mocking grin pulled up his lips. “Why kill people when you can get them to serve you instead?”
His confident expression and sly tone filled me with dread. All along, I had thought that Covington’s plan was to stockpile enough artifacts so he could go to war with the Protectorate, but it sounded like he had something else in mind. Something far more sinister. But why did he think anyone would ever serve him? What was he up to? And how many more people was he going to hurt along the way?
I didn’t know, and there was nothing I could do to stop him. Not with blood still gushing out of the throbbing wound in my side and the basilisk poison still scorching through my body.
Covington straightened up and tucked the artifact into one of the pockets in his red Reaper cloak. “Good-bye, Rory.” He jerked his head at Drake. “Use your sword and finish her off. I want to be sure that she’s dead before we leave.”
Drake grinned. “Gladly.”
He slid the syringe into his jeans pocket, then pushed aside his black Reaper cloak and drew his sword.
“Good-bye, Spartan.” Drake grinned again and lifted his sword high.
I gritted my teeth, straining to get my body to move, but I couldn’t feel anything but the poison burning, burning, burning through my veins. I tried again, but my arms and legs wouldn’t cooperate, and all I could do was lie there against the tombstone and watch Drake swing his sword down at my chest—
A dagger flew through the air, clipping Drake’s shoulder and making him yell and stagger back. My head lolled to the right, and suddenly, Ian was there, leaping over a tombstone and plowing into his brother. The two guys landed in a heap on the grass, punching and kicking each other.
Covington backed away from them, pushed his cloak aside, and grabbed something off his belt. At first, I thought he was reaching for a weapon, but then I spotted the glimmer of gold in his fingers, and I realized that he was holding the chimera scepter. His lips split into a cruel smile, and he pointed the scepter at Ian—
A shower of blue-white sparks flashed in the air, and Covington screamed. Zoe had snuck up behind him and was using her electrodagger to send wave after wave of electricity zinging through his body. Covington growled and swiped out with his fist, but Zoe sidestepped his awkward, clumsy blow and blasted him with electricity again.
He screamed and staggered forward, trying to get away from the painful sparks. The chimera scepter slipped from his fingers, hit one of the tombstones, clanked off, an
d dropped to the grass.
The scepter must have somehow made a figure-eight motion as it fell, because an ashy black cloud spewed out of the end, solidifying into a single, terrifying chimera. The creature snarled and whipped its head back and forth, as though it wasn’t sure who it was supposed to attack. After a few seconds, it focused on the evil librarian and started creeping toward him.
“Stop!” Covington commanded. “I said stop!”
The monster didn’t pay any attention and kept right on coming at him. Covington actually needed to be holding the scepter to control the chimera, and he started backing away from the creature. Zoe did the same thing.
The gold scepter was lying on the grass between the two of them. Zoe looked at Covington, and he stared back at her. Then, at the same time, they both lunged to the ground, reaching for the artifact.
Well, Covington was reaching for the scepter, but Zoe was reaching for him. His hand closed around the scepter, and he started to snap it up, but she swiped out with her electrodagger, using the blade this time, and opened up a deep gash in his forearm.
Covington hissed with pain and dropped the scepter, and Zoe stepped forward and kicked the artifact back behind her where he couldn’t get to it. The chimera looked back and forth between the two of them, still not sure who it was supposed to attack.
Ian and Drake were still wrestling around, but Drake finally got the upper hand, positioned himself on top of Ian, and started punching his brother in the face over and over again. Ian grunted and raised his hands, trying to defend himself, but Drake kept right on hitting him, each blow harder than the last.
Zoe was holding her own against Covington, but I had to help Ian before Drake beat him to death. Besides, Ian was closer. So I gritted my teeth again, ignored the pain of my injuries as best I could, and rocked from side to side, trying to build up enough momentum to flop over onto the ground. Every movement made more and more red-hot agony blaze through my body, but I kept going, and I slowly slid off the tombstone and pitched forward onto the grass.
That small motion further sapped what little strength I had left, and that red-hot agony rose up again, stealing my breath. I wanted to stop. I wanted to just lie in the grass, close my eyes, and let the pain blot out everything else. But I couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t do that. Not while my friends were in danger. So I ignored how much I was hurting and slowly crawled over to where Ian and Drake were fighting. Somehow I kept my grip on Babs, and I dragged the sword through the grass along with me.
“Come on, Rory,” Babs said, encouraging me the whole time. “That’s my warrior. You can do it. Keep going. Just a little farther now…”
Every movement made more blood ooze out of the deep puncture wound in my side and more poison scorch through my veins. Sweat dripped down my face, mixing with the tears that continuously leaked out of my eyes, and white stars winked on and off in my field of vision, but I kept crawling forward, one slow, agonizing inch at a time.
“Drake! Forget about him!” Covington yelled, backing up. “Let’s go! Now!”
Zoe brandished her electrodagger at the Reaper, trying to corner him up against one of the tombstones, but Covington used his Roman speed to sidestep her and took off running.
Zoe started to follow him, but the chimera snarled, making her stop. She pointed her dagger at the monster and hit the blue jewel in the hilt, making more sparks of electricity zip along the blade. Instead of getting the creature to back off, the crackling electricity seemed to fascinate the chimera, and it stalked back and forth in front of her.
Zoe glanced behind her, but she must not have been able to see where the gold scepter had landed in the grass. So she bit her lip, raised her dagger a little higher, and held her ground against the monster.
I finally made it over to the two Vikings. Drake was still punching Ian, beating his brother to a bloody pulp. At first, I thought that Drake was hitting his brother so hard and fast that Ian simply couldn’t land a blow in return. I blinked a few times, focusing on them. Ian was holding up his arms to ward off Drake’s blows, but he wasn’t actually trying to land any punches in return.
Despite everything Drake had done, Ian didn’t want to hurt his brother. Not really. I could understand that. I didn’t know if I would have been able to fight my parents if they had still been alive. But Drake wasn’t my brother, and I wasn’t going to let him beat Ian to death.
I couldn’t get to my feet, but I was still holding Babs, so I drew in a deep breath, gathering up the remaining scraps of my strength. Then I gritted my teeth, lifted the sword, and sliced it across the back of Drake’s calf, since that was the only part of him that I could reach.
It was a weak, awkward blow, but Babs did most of the work, and the sword’s sharp blade bit deep into his skin, drawing blood.
Drake yelped with surprise and lashed out with his boot, kicking me in my injured side. Fresh pain exploded in the wound, stealing even more of my breath. I didn’t think I could hurt any worse than I already did, but it felt like Drake had cracked my ribs with his Viking strength. I groaned and landed on my back. Babs slipped from my fingers and dropped into the grass.
“Rory!” she yelled. “Get up, Rory! Get up!”
But the pain was too great, and all I could do was lie there and gasp for air as Drake rolled off Ian, scrambled to his feet, and grabbed his sword from the grass. Drake turned toward me and lifted his weapon high. This time, he wouldn’t miss.
“Die, Spartan!” he hissed. “Die—”
Thunk!
A crossbow bolt zipped through the air and hit Drake’s shoulder, spinning him around.
Mateo sprinted into view, followed by Takeda. Ian and Zoe must have used their comms to tell them we were in the cemetery. Mateo stopped to load another bolt into his crossbow, but Takeda whipped up his katana and ran straight at Drake.
The Viking snarled and brandished his own sword, but he must have realized that he couldn’t beat the Samurai. At least, not with Mateo’s crossbow bolt still stuck in his shoulder. Drake finally took Covington’s advice and ran away, disappearing into the darkness. Takeda chased after the Reaper, and he vanished as well.
Mateo slapped the bolt into his crossbow. The chimera hissed, drawing his attention, and he realized the creature was threatening Zoe. Determination filled his face. Mateo put his fingers to his lips and let out a loud, ear-splitting whistle. The chimera hissed again, but the creature spun around and loped across the grass, heading straight for Mateo.
He waited until the monster was in range, then coolly lifted his crossbow, took aim, and put a bolt straight through its eye. The chimera hissed a final time, then disappeared in a cloud of black, noxious smoke.
“Zoe!” Mateo asked, hurrying over to her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine!” She turned around, her head snapping back and forth. A few seconds later, she darted forward and snatched up the chimera scepter from the ground. “Ian?”
He slowly sat up. “I’m okay. Rory?”
I opened my mouth to answer him, but all that came out was a low groan of pain.
“Rory?” Ian asked again. “Rory!”
He scrambled over to where I was lying on the grass. Tears of pain kept streaming out of my eyes, but I blinked them away and focused on him. Cuts and bruises had bloomed like ugly red and purple flowers all over Ian’s face, and he had two black eyes from where Drake had beaten him. Or, rather, from where he had let Drake beat him.
I lifted my hand to his bloody, bruised face. I wished I could take Ian’s pain away. Not just the pain of his injuries but the pain of Drake’s betrayal that lingered deep down in his heart. I knew that soul-crushing agony. It was the same pain I still felt in my own heart about all the horrible things my parents had done.
I opened my mouth to say something, I wasn’t quite sure what, but all that came out was a weak cough, and I could feel blood trickling down the side of my face, as hot as the basilisk poison still burning in my veins. My eyes fluttered shut, but I forced
them open again.
Ian sucked in a horrified breath, and fear darkened his eyes. “Rory? Rory!” Even though he was yelling, his voice seemed faint and far away. “Don’t close your eyes! Rory, stay awake!”
I tried to stay awake. I really did. But all those tiny stars flashing in front of my eyes blurred together into a solid wall of white and faded to gray. Then even that color leached away, and the blackness swallowed me.
Chapter Twenty-One
I woke up in the grass.
For a moment, I thought I was still in the cemetery, lying in the grass and staring up at the full moon suspended in the starry night sky far, far above. But then a gust of wind blew over me, bringing a crisp, clean scent with it, like fragrant flowers mixed with fresh snow.
I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath, enjoying the familiar, comforting aroma. In and out, in and out, in and out. The longer I breathed in that fresh scent, the better, the stronger, I felt. I sighed with happiness. I could lie here and enjoy that aroma forever…
Someone cleared her throat.
My eyes snapped open, and I slowly pushed myself up onto my elbows. That was when I realized that I wasn’t lying in the cold, hard, frosted grass of the cemetery. Instead, this grass was impossibly warm, soft, and green, despite the night sky overhead.
A few feet away, the grass gave way to a carpet of wildflowers of every size, shape, and color. The silver moon- and starlight intensified the flowers’ hues, making the sapphire-blue, emerald-green, ruby-red, opal-white, and amethyst-purple petals gleam like bright, polished jewels.
Green vines and small trees curled through and sprang up here and there among the flowers, which ran all the way over to the cracked walls and crumbled heaps of stone that ringed the courtyard. The glow from the moon and stars highlighted the bears, rabbits, foxes, songbirds, and gryphons that had been carved into the broken stones, making it seem as though the animals were wandering from one rock to another.
Spartan Promise Page 20
