“You found it.”
He nodded. “Zoe saw your phone on the bar and your earbud in that glass of ginger ale, and we realized that Gretchen had taken you into the back of the club. Eventually, we made it down to the basement. I saw the whistle on the floor in front of the wall and realized that you had deliberately left it behind. Zoe and I found the secret tunnel, and, well, you know the rest. May I?”
I held out my right wrist, and Ian slid the whistle back onto my bracelet. His fingers lingered on my skin, and I held back another shiver. I wondered if he could feel my pulse racing. Probably. It seemed as loud to me as the heart-rate monitor had been.
Ian’s phone buzzed, and he let go of my wrist, pulled out the device, and checked the message. “Takeda wants to know if you’re awake yet. The others are in the briefing room, including your Aunt Rachel. She wants to take you home.”
“Good.” I glanced over at Babs. “Unlike some people, I can’t sleep just anywhere.”
The sword let out another loud snore, as if she knew that I was talking about her. Ian and I looked at each other, and we both started laughing.
The sound was enough to rouse Babs from her peaceful slumber, and the sword’s eye slowly opened.
“What?” she mumbled. “What did I miss? What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, Babs. Nothing at all.” I laughed again, then threw back the sheets and got out of bed.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ian went to the briefing room to tell the others that I was awake. A white robe was lying on a table next to a plastic bag that held the clothes I’d had on earlier, along with my phone, which Zoe had grabbed in the nightclub. I pulled the robe on over my white pajamas, grabbed Babs and the bag, and left the infirmary room.
As soon as I stepped into the Bunker, Aunt Rachel ran over and wrapped me up in a tight hug. She didn’t say anything, but her body shook once, and I knew she was fighting back tears.
“I’m okay,” I whispered. “I’m okay.”
She hugged me even tighter. After a moment, she let me go and turned away, wiping the tears out of her eyes. Yeah, I had to wipe away a few tears too.
Zoe and Mateo hugged me as well, and Takeda patted my shoulder.
A gleam of gold caught my eye. The chimera scepter that Zoe had recovered at the cemetery was sitting on the briefing table. Someone, probably Takeda, had already put the scepter into an artifact case, and the chimera’s ruby eyes seemed to glare at me through the glass. I held back a shudder. Well, at least we wouldn’t have to worry about Covington summoning any more chimeras, although he still had Serket’s Pen. It was a small victory, but I’d take what I could get tonight.
Other than the scepter, the table was surprisingly empty. I had expected it to be covered with papers and photos as my friends worked to track down the Reapers, but no files or folders littered the surface, and the monitors on the wall were dark.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Aren’t we going to talk about the mission?”
Takeda shook his head. “There’s no briefing tonight, especially not for you, Rory. You need to get some more rest.”
“Besides,” Zoe said in a snide voice, “there’s nothing to be briefed about.”
“What do you mean?”
Mateo sighed. “Covington and Drake escaped from the cemetery, and we have no idea where they went. I’ve pulled up all the security footage and traffic cameras from around the club, but it’s like they vanished into thin air. Poof! They’re gone.” He threw his hands up, punctuating his words.
“Don’t worry,” Takeda said in a reassuring voice, seeing the stricken look on my face. “We’ll find the Reapers. But for tonight, I want everyone to go home.”
His voice was as calm and steady as ever, but I could hear the doubt in his words. The Reapers had another powerful artifact, and we wouldn’t find them until they wanted to be found. I knew it, and so did Takeda and everyone else.
Once again, we were three steps behind, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that Covington would strike out at us again sooner, rather than later.
* * *
Despite my healing magic, I was exhausted from the cemetery fight, so I didn’t protest when Aunt Rachel announced that she was taking me home. Everyone murmured their good-byes, packed up their things, and left the Bunker. Even Takeda rode up in the elevator with us, as disgusted and disheartened by this latest Reaper escape as the rest of us were.
By the time Aunt Rachel and I had walked across campus to our cottage, it was after midnight. She offered to fix me a snack, but I didn’t feel like eating, so I hugged her good night, took a hot shower, and put on my pajamas.
Twenty minutes later, I was back in my bedroom. Babs was propped up in her chair in the corner, already snoring again. I had started to get into bed when I noticed the plastic bag from the Bunker sitting on my vanity table. Aunt Rachel must have put it there while I’d been in the shower.
I stared longingly at my bed for a moment, then sighed, went over, and sat down at the table. I might as well see if any of my clothes were salvageable before the stains set in more than they already had. So I opened the bag and pulled out the items inside.
My long-sleeve T-shirt was a torn, bloody, ruined mess, so I tossed it into the trash can, but my jeans were relatively blood-free, so I decided to wash them. A good pair of jeans was truly hard to find.
I had started to toss the jeans into my laundry hamper when I felt something in one of the pockets. I dug my hand down into the fabric and pulled out the items inside: a tube of lip balm and a phone. I frowned, not recognizing them, but then I realized whom they belonged to.
Gretchen.
I stared at the items. Raspberry lip balm and a phone in a white crystal case. Such small, ordinary things. They could have easily been mine. I had the same lip balm, and the phone case wasn’t too different from my sparkly green one. And if not for my friends and my healing magic, I would have died in the cemetery tonight, just like Gretchen had.
I shivered and pushed her things to the side of the table. I would take them to the Bunker tomorrow. There was nothing special about the lip balm, but maybe Mateo could use Gretchen’s phone to find the Reapers.
I wadded up my jeans and had started to toss them into the laundry hamper when I heard a faint crinkling sound. Something else was in the pocket, so I stopped and dug it out as well.
Gretchen’s drawing.
It looked the same as it had in the cemetery: a single piece of paper covered with black feathers and basilisks, with circles, chains, flowers, vines, and red hearts crawling up the sides of the page. And just like at the cemetery, I had no idea what it meant or why Gretchen had thought it was important enough to carry around.
Maybe I was missing something, some pattern or other small clue that Gretchen had left behind. I flipped the paper over, but nothing was written on the back, so I held it up to the light, but I didn’t see anything new. Just feathers and basilisks and vines and flowers. Still, I felt like the answer was right there on the page, hidden in all those lines of ink, so I set the drawing back down on the table, leaned forward, and studied it some more.
A minute passed, then two, then three, and I still didn’t have any brilliant insights. By this point, my head was aching, and the images were swimming before my eyes, so I admitted defeat, at least for tonight. I set the drawing off to the side with the rest of Gretchen’s things. Maybe I would see something new in the doodles in the morning, or maybe one of my friends would spot something I’d missed.
Either way, I was exhausted, so I finally threw my dirty jeans into the laundry hamper and went to bed.
* * *
As soon as my head touched the pillow, I fell into a dark, dreamless sleep, and my alarm went off way too early the next morning. I groaned, rolled over, and pulled the pillow over my ear, trying to block out the blaring alarm. But it was relentless, so I crawled out of bed.
It was a new day at Mythos Academy, which meant that I had to go to my classes like not
hing had happened last night. Like the basilisk hadn’t almost killed me. Like I hadn’t seen Gretchen die. But that was the life of a warrior, that was life on Team Midgard, and it was the life that I had chosen, for better or worse.
I threw on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt, grabbed Babs and my bag, and headed into the kitchen.
Aunt Rachel was sitting at the table, sipping coffee. She must have been up for a while, because she’d already made breakfast. And not just any breakfast. Almost a dozen plates covered the table, each one piled high with food. All sorts of delicious scents mingled together, and my stomach rumbled in anticipation.
“What’s all this?” I asked.
She waved her hand over the plates. “Blackberry French toast, scrambled eggs, biscuits and gravy, country-fried ham, bacon, hash browns, and strawberry-kiwi fruit salad. All your favorites.”
“Why did you cook so much? There’s enough here for an army.”
“Oh, no reason.” Her voice was light, but her face was pale and strained.
Cooking was Aunt Rachel’s way of dealing with things. After my parents died, she had spent hours in the kitchen, whipping up elaborate, fantastic meals and desserts, even though neither one of us had felt like eating them. So I knew this was her way of coping with the fact that she had almost lost me last night, and it was also her way of showing me how much she loved me.
“Well, it looks and smells fantastic.” I grinned. “Where’s my plate?”
Aunt Rachel grinned back at me, and we both filled our plates and started eating.
The food was terrific. Decadent French toast. Light, fluffy eggs and biscuits. Rich, hearty gravy and ham. Smoky bacon. Cheesy hash browns. Sweet fruit with a tang of lime. I washed it all down with some orange juice and went back for seconds.
While we ate, we talked about normal things. My classes, Aunt Rachel’s job in the dining hall, the weather. Neither one of us mentioned the Reapers. Neither did Babs, who kept up a steady stream of chatter about how nice and shiny she was looking this morning. Ian had cleaned the sword while I was resting in the infirmary last night.
I finished off my second plate of food and sighed with happiness. “That was terrific. You’re too good to me, Aunt Rachel.”
“I know.” She grinned and started to push back from the table so she could clean the dishes.
“Wait. Before you do that, can I show you something? I found it last night in the cemetery. With…Gretchen.” I hated to ruin the moment, but I needed her help.
Her eyes widened. “Oh. Of course, honey. You can show me anything, anytime. You know that.”
I pulled Gretchen’s drawing out of my pocket and laid it flat on the table where Aunt Rachel and Babs could see it. I couldn’t get it out of my mind, and I didn’t want to wait until this afternoon to show it to everyone in the Bunker.
Babs spoke up first, the way she so often did. “It still looks like a bunch of nonsense to me. Gretchen might have been smart, but she wasn’t very good at drawing. Those basilisks resemble black blobs more than anything else.” The sword sniffed, giving her art critique.
“I don’t think it’s nonsense. Gretchen probably drew the feathers and basilisks because she was going to steal Serket’s Pen,” Aunt Rachel said. “As for the vines and things, maybe she was thinking about the flowers at the Idun Estate, since that’s where the artifact was.”
Her explanation made sense, but I still felt I was missing something important about the drawing, something obvious, something that would make everything that had happened over the last few days make sense.
We stared at the doodles for another minute, but we didn’t come up with any new ideas, so I folded up the drawing and stuffed it back into my jeans pocket.
“Well, thanks for looking at it.”
Babs winked at me, but Aunt Rachel tapped her fingers on the table, still thinking.
“I wonder about something, though,” she said.
“About the drawing? What?”
She shook her head. “Not about the drawing. Not exactly. What I’m wondering is why basilisks?”
“What do you mean?”
Aunt Rachel picked up her fork from her plate and waved it through the air like it was an artifact. “Covington already had Typhon’s Scepter. At least, until he dropped it in the cemetery and Zoe recovered it last night.”
“So?”
“So he could already summon all the chimeras he wanted by using the scepter,” she said. “So why did he want Serket’s Pen too?”
“Because he’s a greedy Reaper who likes to use artifacts to hurt people,” Babs chimed in.
Aunt Rachel nodded. “That is certainly true, but Covington never does anything without a specific goal or reason in mind. So what does he need basilisks for? Why basilisks instead of chimeras?”
Her words made a chill slither down my spine. I had been so focused on trying to stop the artifact from being stolen from the Idun Estate, and then trying to get it back from Gretchen, that I hadn’t thought much about why Covington wanted it. Like Babs, I had assumed it was because he was greedy and was stockpiling artifacts to use against the Protectorate. After all, that was why Daphne Cruz had brought the pen to our attention in the first place.
But what if Aunt Rachel was right, and there was more to it than that? What if Covington wanted Serket’s Pen and its basilisks for a specific reason? But what could that be? What could he do with basilisks that he couldn’t do with chimeras?
My mind spun around, but all I came up with was more questions. Still, Aunt Rachel had given me a place to start, and a renewed sense of determination flowed through me.
“I don’t know why Covington needs basilisks, but I’m going to find out.”
She squeezed my hand. “I know you will. Now, help me clean up, or we’re both going to be late.”
I helped her carry the plates over to the counter so she could put the leftovers in the fridge. While we worked, I had the same thought that I’d had the morning of the field trip.
Today was going to be another long day.
I just hoped it would be the day I finally got some answers.
Chapter Twenty-Three
By the time I finished helping Aunt Rachel, it was almost eight o’clock, and I had to grab Babs and my bag and run across campus.
I thought I was going to be late, but the main quad was still crowded with kids when I got there, so I slowed down to catch my breath. I glanced around, wondering if anyone was missing Gretchen yet, but the students were gossiping, texting, and slurping down their coffees. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, not even the nasty glances many of the kids gave me as I walked past them.
“Rory! Hey, Rory!” a voice called out.
I turned around, and Zoe jogged up to me. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself.” Her hazel eyes darkened with concern, and she looked me up and down, as if checking for injuries, even though she knew that my magic had healed me last night. “How are you feeling?”
I shrugged. “Fine, for the most part. I just…”
“What?”
“I keep thinking about Gretchen.”
I didn’t have to say anything else. Zoe was a warrior, the same as me, so she knew all about the weird jumble of happiness, relief, guilt, and regret that you felt whenever you survived a battle that someone else didn’t, even if that person had been your enemy.
Zoe’s eyes darkened a little more. “Yeah. Me too.”
We stood there in silence for a moment. Then she hooked her arm through mine.
“Well, I’m glad you’re okay. I can’t have my bestie feeling anything less than fine.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Bestie, huh?”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, yeah.”
“All right, then, bestie. Walk me to class.”
Zoe grinned, and we headed across the quad. I glanced around again, but everyone was still talking, texting, and drinking coffee, and it was a typical Mythos morning, right down to some guys throwing a football back and
forth. Mateo was playing with them, and Zoe and I stopped to watch him.
“Hey, Mateo!” one of the guys called out. “Go long!”
The guy flung the football as far as he could. Mateo took off in a dead sprint and easily caught the ball, thanks to his amazing Roman speed. He noticed Zoe and me and jogged over to us.
“Ladies.” Mateo tucked the ball under his arm, then gave an elaborate flourish with his other hand and bowed low to us, like he was an old-fashioned knight greeting two courtly ladies.
Zoe rolled her eyes again. “Show-off.”
He straightened up and grinned. “Anything to impress the lovely Valkyrie.”
The guys called out to him. Mateo winked at Zoe, then jogged back over to the others so that one of them could throw the football again. Zoe watched him go with a smile on her lips, and blue sparks of magic crackled in the air around her.
I nudged her in the side. “Mateo looks cute today. Don’t you think?”
She gave me a sour look. “I know what you’re trying to do, but Mateo and I are not going to hook up. We are just friends. That’s it.”
“Friends who secretly lust after each other,” I teased.
“Whatever,” Zoe muttered. “I don’t want to talk about it. Come on. I need to get to class, and so do you.”
She set off down the path. Her arm was still hooked through mine, and she easily pulled me along. She didn’t know her own Valkyrie strength sometimes.
We were almost to the English-history building when I spotted Ian—and he wasn’t alone.
Kylie was with him, and the two of them were standing off by themselves under one of the maple trees that towered over the quad.
“Wait,” I said. “Slow down for a second.”
Zoe kept going, but I dug my heels into the ground, and she finally stopped and dropped my arm. “What?”
I jerked my head over at Ian and Kylie, and we both looked at them.
Ian was talking to Kylie. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but her face was cold and hard. Every once in a while, a few gold sparks would shoot out of her fingertips.
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