Spartan Promise

by Jennifer Estep

  “She looks pissed,” Zoe whispered.

  I nodded. Yes, she did.

  Ian noticed the sparks too. He winced, but he kept talking. Finally, about a minute later, he finished speaking and looked at her, waiting for a response.

  Kylie stared back at Ian for a moment, then stabbed her finger at him. More gold sparks snapped and hissed in the air between them. “You, Viking, are a complete and total idiot.”

  Her voice rang out across the quad, and everyone stared at them. A guilty flush crept up Ian’s neck, but Kylie rolled her eyes, turned on her heel, and stalked away from him. She marched across the quad, right past Zoe and me.

  She caught sight of us and veered in our direction. I braced myself, expecting her to give me a venomous glare the way she always did. But instead, Kylie stopped and looked me in the eyes.

  “I should have said it before now, but thank you for saving my life the other day.”

  Once again, her voice carried across the quad, and people looked from me to her and back again. Everyone started whispering, wondering what she was talking about, and several kids began texting on their phones.

  I grimaced. The news that Kylie Midas had actually spoken to me would be all over the academy before first period even started. I didn’t like being the center of everyone’s attention and gossip, but she had been civil to me, and I owed her a response.

  “Sure,” I replied. “No problem.”

  Kylie nodded at me. I nodded back at her, and she moved past me. Zoe and I watched her walk up the steps to the English-history building.

  “What was that about?” Zoe asked. “I thought that she hated you.”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  Footsteps scraped on the cobblestones, and Ian walked over to us. He nodded at Zoe, then looked at me.

  “I apologized to Kylie for how I treated her, and I told her how sorry I was for lying to her. I wanted you to know that, and I wanted to tell you again that I’m sorry.” His gray eyes gleamed with sincerity, and his voice was soft and full of regret. “I really am sorry, Rory. I never meant to hurt you or Kylie, and I especially never meant to betray your trust.”

  I thought about what Zoe had told me about Ian spying on that guy she’d had a crush on at the New York academy. In his own way, Ian had been trying to protect her, and he’d thought he had been protecting me too by asking Kylie about Lance Fuller and the Reapers.

  “All right. Apology accepted.” I stabbed my finger at him just like Kylie had, although without the cool gold Valkyrie sparks of magic. “But don’t you ever do anything like that again. I can take care of myself, and I don’t need you or anyone else fighting my battles for me.”

  “I promise,” Ian replied in a serious voice. Then his face brightened, and he drew an X over his chest. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

  He clearly meant it as a joke, but I couldn’t stop myself from snapping back at him. “Don’t say that. You’ll totally jinx yourself.”

  Ian and Zoe both stared at me, wondering at my sharp tone.

  I grimaced again. “And now it’s my turn to say I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just a little on edge after everything that happened last night.”

  “It’s okay,” Ian said. “I think we’re all a little tense right now.”

  That was a total understatement, but this time, I kept my mouth shut and nodded instead.

  “Tell you what. Let’s all meet for lunch in the dining hall. You guys, me, Mateo. My treat.” A teasing grin spread across Ian’s face. “I’ll even buy you an apology cupcake, Rory.”

  I rolled my eyes. Ian had called me cupcake when we’d first met, and it had become something of a running joke between us. Still, he was trying to lighten the mood, so I decided to play along.

  “Just one?” I huffed. “That’s hardly a proper apology.”

  “And how many cupcakes constitute a proper apology?” he asked, still teasing me.

  “Since cupcakes are my absolute favorite dessert?” I tapped my finger against my lips, as though I were seriously considering the question. “Three. At the very least. All chocolate. With chocolate icing. And sprinkles. Lots of sprinkles.”

  “I think that can be arranged.”

  He smiled. I grinned back at him and stared up into his gray, gray eyes…

  “Oh, just kiss already,” Zoe muttered.

  A hot blush exploded in my cheeks, and I dropped my gaze from Ian’s. He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet.

  Zoe opened her mouth, probably to make another snarky comment, but a series of bells rang out, signaling that first period was about to start. Saved by the bell, indeed.

  “Okay, then. See you guys at lunch!” I chirped in a bright voice, then whirled around and headed toward the English-history building.

  I ran up the steps and hurried over to the door. Some other kids were in front of me, and I had to wait for them to move, so I looked back over my shoulder.

  Zoe had left to go to her own class, but Ian was still standing on the quad. He lifted his hand and waved at me. Even though my cheeks were still burning with embarrassment, I waved back at him.

  As I headed into the building, a very Spartan thought filled my mind. Sometimes I thought it would be easier to face down another basilisk than try to figure out what was going on with Ian and me.

  * * *

  I slid into my seat in myth-history class a few seconds before Professor Dalaja stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. She put her book-shaped bag on her desk and drew out a thick stack of papers.

  “Good morning, students,” Dalaja said in a cheerful voice. “You will be happy to know that I graded the quiz about our field trip to the Idun Estate.”

  Several groans rang out.

  “Now, now, none of that. You all did quite well, especially given the…power outage.” Her gaze landed on me for a moment. “Anyway, let me pass these out, and you can see for yourselves.”

  Professor Dalaja moved up and down the aisles, handing everyone their quizzes. She laid my paper on my desk, and I read the grade and the written comments at the top of the sheet. A+. Excellent analysis of the artifacts’ history, magic, and uses.

  “Good work, Rory,” she said. “You had the highest grade.”

  I sat up a little straighter in my seat. I might not have stopped Covington from getting away with Serket’s Pen last night, but at least I had done something right this week.

  Dalaja moved to the front of the room and started her lecture. She told a great story, the way she always did, but my mind wandered, and I found myself pulling out Gretchen’s drawing and staring at it again, wondering what the doodles meant—

  The bell rang, startling me. I glanced up. It seemed like I had just sat down, but class was over, and everyone was leaving. I had totally spaced out on the lecture.

  I got to my feet and grabbed Gretchen’s drawing and my bag. I glanced over at Professor Dalaja, who was sitting at her desk in the front of the classroom, writing on a notepad. I looked at the drawing, then over at Dalaja, then back at the drawing. If anyone could help me figure out what Gretchen’s doodles meant—if they even meant anything at all—it was the professor.

  Still, I hesitated. Dalaja had been acting weird ever since we’d come back from the estate. I didn’t think she was a Reaper, but I had been wrong before. Either way, Covington had Serket’s Pen, and I was running out of time to figure out what he was planning to do with it. So I decided to take a chance. I just hoped I was trusting the right person this time.

  “Excuse me, Professor?”

  She looked up at me. “Ah, Miss Forseti. Come to ask more questions about artifacts?”

  “Something like that. I was wondering if you could take a look at this and tell me what you think it means.” I laid the drawing on her desk.

  Professor Dalaja pushed her glasses a little higher up on her nose, pulled the paper closer, and stared down at the drawing. She studied it for several seconds before looking up at me. “Did you dra
w this yourself?”

  I shook my head. “No, not exactly. I, ah, traced it off a friend’s drawing. It’s…a mythological painting…that she sketched.”

  Yeah, it was totally a lame excuse, and I could hear the lie in my voice. So could Dalaja, from the way she arched her eyebrows at me, but she looked at the drawing again.

  “Well, obviously, these look like feathers and birds.” She pointed at the images in the center. “A Black roc or something similar, if I had to guess.”

  “Yeah, I think so too. I was actually wondering about the other things on the page. All the vines and flowers and hearts. What do you think those mean?”

  “I don’t know. They just look like doodles to me. Why don’t you ask your friend what the name of the painting was?” she countered. “Then you can look up some information about it yourself.”

  “She, ah, doesn’t remember the name. She just saw the painting online somewhere.” More totally lame excuses.

  Professor Dalaja stared at me again, obviously wondering what I was up to, but she turned her attention back to the drawing. “Well, I would say that this looks like ivy or some similar vine. As for the flowers…” She paused, as if considering what to say. “They remind me of winterblooms.”

  Winterblooms? I didn’t know much about flowers, but the ones in Gretchen’s drawing were definitely not winterblooms.

  “That’s not right. Winterblooms are really pretty. These flowers aren’t pretty at all.”

  Dalaja gave me a sharp look, like I’d said something suspicious. I didn’t know what to make of her. One minute, she was treating me like I was her favorite student, and the next, she was acting like I was a Reaper trying to pry some secret out of her. It was confusing, to say the least. Especially since I still didn’t know if she was a Reaper or not.

  She handed me the drawing. “I’m sorry, but that’s what I see.”

  “Okay. Well, thanks for looking at it.”

  “Anytime, Miss Forseti. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready for my next class.” She turned her attention back to the other papers on her desk.

  I had to get to my next class, so I folded up the drawing, slid it into my jeans pocket, and headed for the door. Just before I stepped out into the hallway, I glanced back over my shoulder.

  Professor Dalaja was staring at me with a worried look on her face. Once again, I got the feeling that she was both suspicious of and concerned about me at the same time. Weird. What was going on with her? Was she a Reaper too? I couldn’t tell anymore.

  She nodded at me, then started gathering up the papers on her desk. I stayed where I was, but she didn’t glance at me again, so I stepped out into the hallway.

  Still, as I headed to my next class, I had a funny feeling that Dalaja had seen something in Gretchen’s drawing that I hadn’t.

  Something dangerous.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Despite all the thoughts tumbling through my mind about Gretchen, her drawing, Covington, and everything else, the rest of my morning classes passed by quickly, and lunchtime rolled around.

  I was in the math-science building, packing up my things after calculus, when my phone beeped with a message from Ian.

  Heading to the dining hall now. We’re still on for lunch, right?

  I smiled and texted him back. Absolutely. You still owe me three cupcakes, remember?

  I waited, and Ian texted me back less than a minute later. The message? Three cupcake emojis.

  I laughed and put my phone away.

  A couple of minutes later, I stepped out onto the quad. I had taken my time texting Ian and grabbing my stuff, so the quad was deserted, except for a couple of guys running up the stairs and hurrying into the English-history building. My friends were probably already in the dining hall, so I quickened my pace. For the next hour, I was going to forget all about Gretchen and Covington and hang out and relax with my friends—

  I was walking by the English-history building when my phone started ringing. I stopped and pulled it out of my pocket. Mateo was calling. Weird. Why would he call me now when he knew we were meeting for lunch?

  “Hey, dude,” I said. “What’s up?”

  “Rory!” Mateo shouted. “Where are you?”

  “Out on the quad, heading to the dining hall. Why?”

  “I got a hit on my facial-recognition app. The Reapers are here!”

  “What do you mean, here?” I asked. “Here at the academy?”

  “Yes, here at the academy!” Mateo said. “One of the security cameras picked up Covington and Drake heading into the English-history building. I called Takeda, but he’s down in the Bunker, and it will take him a few minutes to get over there. He told us to stay outside and watch the building until he can summon the Protectorate guards to come help capture the Reapers. Ian, Zoe, and I are grabbing our things and leaving the dining hall right now.”

  “The English-history building?” I stared up at the structure. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure!”

  I thought about the two people I’d seen hurrying inside. I hadn’t gotten a good look at them, but they must have been the Reapers. “But Covington is all about stealing artifacts,” I said, thinking out loud. “Why would he go in there instead of the library—”

  An image of the books and artifacts in Professor Dalaja’s office popped into my mind. That was where Covington and Drake were headed. I was sure of it.

  “They’re after the artifacts in Dalaja’s office!” I yelled into my phone. “I’m right outside the building! I’m going in!”

  “No, Rory, wait—” Mateo started to say something else, but I had already stuffed my phone back into my pocket.

  I darted over to the English-history building. As I ran, I dropped my messenger bag and yanked Babs free of her scabbard.

  “Rory!” she yelled, her lips moving against my palm. “You should wait for the others!”

  “If I do that, they might kill the professor!” I yelled back.

  Babs kept talking, her lips tickling my palm, but I tuned her out and focused on the building. My gaze snapped left and right, and I scanned the windows on the front, looking for any hint of movement inside, but I didn’t spot Covington or Drake through the glass. They must already have gone to Dalaja’s classroom. My heart squeezed even tighter.

  There weren’t that many steps, but it seemed to take me forever to sprint up them, throw open one of the doors, and step inside the building. As much as I wanted to run to the professor’s classroom, I made myself slow down and hug the wall.

  I moved quickly and quietly down the hallway, stopping and peering into every single room that I passed. Covington and Drake were skilled warriors, and I couldn’t afford to get taken by surprise by them or any basilisks they might summon.

  But the rooms were empty, so I hurried on. I stopped and peered around the corner down the hallway to where Dalaja’s classroom was.

  The door was standing wide open.

  My heart sank, but I tightened my grip on Babs and tiptoed down the hallway, still looking and listening to everything around me. I sidled up to the doorframe and peered into the classroom.

  Empty—it was empty.

  I looked out over the desks and chairs, but Dalaja wasn’t in here, and neither were Covington and Drake. My gaze moved past the furniture to the door in the back that led into the professor’s office.

  It was also standing wide open.

  Of course the Reapers would be in there. That was where the books and artifacts were.

  I headed in that direction, hugging the wall again. The last thing I wanted was for the Reapers to see me moving through the classroom and realize that I was creeping up behind them.

  The closer I got to the door, the more I realized that it wasn’t standing open so much as it was barely clinging to its hinges. Someone had almost torn the door out of its frame, most likely Drake with his Viking strength.

  I kept moving toward the door, still looking and listening, but I didn
’t hear any noises coming from inside the office. No yells, no shouts, no screams, nothing.

  My heart clenched a little tighter with dread with every silent second that ticked by. If there had been noises or sounds of a struggle, I would have known that Professor Dalaja was still alive.

  The silence made me think she was already dead.

  Finally, I reached the door. I drew in a breath, readying for myself for whatever might be inside, then peered around the frame.

  The office was a disaster area.

  The two chairs in front of the desk had been smashed to bits, and the desk itself had been overturned. The wooden legs sticking up into the air reminded me of a giant brown tortoise lying on its side, unable to right itself. Everything that had been on the desk—papers, ink pens, even the professor’s coffee mug—now littered the floor, most of it in pieces, as though it had been trampled.

  My gaze flicked left and right to the bookcases against the walls. Many of the swords, daggers, statues, and other artifacts that had lined the shelves were now down on the floor, along with dozens of books. Broken bits of glass littered the ground, and many of the precious stones had been knocked out of their settings and smashed underfoot. The jagged, jeweled splinters looked like colorful snowflakes resting amid the mounds of white paper.

  There was so much messy destruction that I couldn’t tell what artifact, if any, might have been stolen from the shelves. But I could see one thing very, very clearly: the blood splattered on the windows at the back of the office.

  Normally, I had to be in a fight before my Spartan instincts kicked in, but this time, I could see it all unspooling in my mind. Covington and Drake sneaking into the classroom. Drake using his Viking strength to wrench open the door. The Reapers surging into the office. Professor Dalaja getting up from her desk in surprise. Drake closing the distance between them and swinging his sword at her. Dalaja’s blood flying through the air and spattering all over the windows…

  Bile rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down and forced myself to move forward, heading toward the bloody windows. I knew exactly what I was going to find when I went around the overturned desk, but I still had to see it for myself. Dread churned in my stomach, but I crept closer to the desk…and closer…and closer still…until I could look behind it…