Spartan Promise

by Jennifer Estep

  He slashed the black feather pen through the air as though he were writing a large B. He had summoned that first basilisk and was going to conjure more of them, unless I stopped him.

  “Rory! Rory!”

  I looked toward the trees where Babs had landed. I could hear her calling out, but I couldn’t actually see the sword, and Covington could finish summoning another basilisk, maybe more, before I found her. I would have to battle the Reaper and his monsters without my sword.

  I was a Spartan, which meant that I could use anything as a weapon, so I searched the ground around me. Thanks to the basilisk destroying the boulder, several fist-size rocks now littered the clearing. I snatched up one of the rocks, along with the branch Dalaja had dropped. Then I whirled around to face Covington and the basilisk again.

  Only there wasn’t just one basilisk now—there were three.

  He had conjured two more monsters. Even worse, he was forcing Professor Dalaja to climb up onto one of the basilisks. Dalaja heaved herself onto the creature’s back, and Covington quickly swung up behind her. The basilisk cawed and spread its wings wide.

  Covington never does anything without a specific goal or reason in mind. So what does he need basilisks for? Why basilisks instead of chimeras? Aunt Rachel’s voice murmured in my mind. She had asked those questions at breakfast this morning, and now I knew the answer.

  Because basilisks could do one thing that chimeras couldn’t: basilisks could fly.

  Covington must have realized that the Protectorate guards might cut him off from the vehicles outside the academy gate, so he had decided to use the basilisks as his backup escape plan. He was literally going to fly away as free as a bird.

  Unless I stopped him.

  Still holding the rock and the branch, I let out a loud yell and charged at Covington, but he waved his hand, and one of the basilisks swung around in my direction, raising its wing high and getting ready to slam it down on top of me—

  Thunk!

  A Viking battle ax zipped across the clearing and sank into the basilisk’s chest, making it scream with pain and disappear in a cloud of black feathers.

  My heart lifted. Ian was here.

  He sprinted into the clearing, with Zoe, Mateo, and Takeda right behind him. I turned in their direction.

  Ian’s gaze met mine, and his eyes widened. “Rory! Get down!”

  I ducked, and a dagger whistled through the air right where my head had been. I whirled around to find Drake standing behind me. Before I could scramble out of the way, he punched me in the face.

  Pain exploded in my jaw. My head snapped back, my legs buckled, and I hit the ground hard, losing my makeshift weapons. Before I could move or even think about fighting back, Drake reached down, grabbed the back of my shirt, and yanked me to my feet. Then he spun me around and put another dagger up against my throat.

  “Stop!” he hissed. “Or she dies!”

  I froze, and so did my friends. For a moment, no one moved or said anything. Then Ian slowly raised his hands and stepped forward. He stared at me, then focused on his treacherous brother.

  “Drake,” he said in a low, urgent voice. “Don’t do this. Let Rory go, and we can talk about this.”

  “Wow.” Drake sneered. “You’re still trying to save me, aren’t you? Even after everything I’ve done to you and your friends. Pathetic, little brother. Truly pathetic.”

  Ian’s fingers clenched into fists, but he kept his hands raised, still trying to reason with his brother. “Come on, man. I know you, and this isn’t you.”

  Drake shook his head. “You don’t know me. You never knew me. All you saw was this great hero that you wanted me to be. Well, that’s not me, little brother. It never was. You were just too stupid to realize it.”

  Ian flinched, but he tried again. “Please, Drake. You don’t have to do this. Let Rory go.”

  “I absolutely have to do this. You’re not going to get the message otherwise. You want to know who I really am?” Drake let out a low, chilling laugh. “Let me show you.”

  His muscles tensed, and I could tell that he was getting ready to slice his dagger across my throat. My mind raced, trying to figure out some way to stop him. I’d have to lift my own hand and hope that I could somehow shove it in between the blade and my neck. Better a cut hand than a cut throat.

  “Drake!” Covington barked out. “Stop! I want her alive!”

  The Viking tensed again, as if he were thinking about ignoring his boss just to teach his brother a cruel, cruel lesson.

  “Drake!” Covington barked out again. “Put her on the basilisk, and let’s go!”

  The moment passed, and Drake finally lowered his dagger a fraction of an inch. I let out a soft sigh of relief.

  “Your girlfriend’s lucky that Covington still wants her alive.” Drake sneered at Ian again, then tightened his grip on me. “Walk, Spartan. And don’t try anything funny, or I will cut your throat, no matter what Covington says.”

  He pressed the dagger into my throat, slicing my skin and making a bit of blood trickle down my neck. I hissed at the small, stinging pain, but I did as he asked and let him drag me backward.

  Ian slowly lowered his fists to his sides. There was nothing that he or any of my friends could do, since Drake could kill me before they took a single step forward. Ian stared at his brother again, then turned his gaze to me.

  So many emotions glinted in his gray eyes. Rage. Sorrow. Resignation. But they quickly melted away and hardened into something much, much stronger: determination.

  “Don’t worry, Rory,” he called out. “We’ll save you.”

  “Don’t you worry,” I countered. “I’ll save myself.”

  Ian grinned a little at my confidence, but we both knew how precarious my situation was. The second Covington didn’t need me anymore, he would kill me or order Drake to do it. This might be the last time I saw my friends, so I focused on each one of them in turn—Zoe, Mateo, and Takeda—smiling and trying to let them see how much I cared about them. Then I looked at Ian again. If this was my final moment with him, then I was going to tell him how I felt.

  “Ian, I—”

  Before I could get the words out, Drake dug his dagger into my neck again, cutting me off. “Shut up, and get on the basilisk! Now!”

  I didn’t have a choice. I climbed up onto the creature, and Drake hopped up behind me. He still had his dagger in one hand, and I couldn’t fight back without him gutting me with the weapon.

  Ian, Zoe, Mateo, and Takeda held their positions in the clearing. Anguish filled their faces, and they clearly wanted to charge forward and do something, anything, to try to save me, along with Professor Dalaja. But they couldn’t do that without the Reapers killing us both.

  So I looked at each one of my friends again, trying to tell them that it was okay, that I understood, and that I knew they would do everything they could to find and rescue me.

  “Better hold on,” Drake hissed. “Or you might fall off, Spartan.”

  Even though it was the last thing I wanted to do, I dug my hands and legs into the basilisk’s feathers, getting a tight grip. Covington might want me alive, but I wouldn’t put it past Drake to shove me off the creature while we were in midair.

  Drake dug his own hand and legs into the creature’s feathers. “Let’s go!” he yelled.

  The basilisk let out another loud caw and flapped its wings. Ian’s worried face was the last thing I saw before the basilisk shot off the ground and soared up into the sky.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Flying on the basilisk was nothing like flying on the Eir gryphons.

  I had always felt perfectly safe and secure riding on Balder and Brono, but the basilisk’s black feathers were much slicker than the gryphons’ bronze fur, and its movements were so erratic that I felt like I was going to tumble off at any second. And Drake didn’t help matters, since he kept his dagger pressed up against my side, ready to stab me if I did anything stupid. He probably wanted me to fall off, but I
dug my fingers even deeper into the basilisk’s slippery feathers and squeezed tight with my legs. Somehow I managed to hang on.

  I had lost Babs in the clearing, but Pan’s Whistle was still attached to my bracelet, and I thought about using the artifact to summon the gryphons the way I had on the ridge the other night. But I didn’t dare let go of the basilisk, not even with one hand, not even for the few seconds it would take me to bring the whistle up to my lips and blow on it.

  Up ahead, Covington zipped through the air on his own basilisk, with Professor Dalaja riding in front of him. I held on tight and watched the scenery below, trying to figure out where we were going.

  The streets and shops of Snowline Ridge rushed by almost too fast for me to follow, as did the evergreen forests that covered the mountain. I thought we might head away from the mountain and toward some suburb of Denver, or maybe even the city itself, but a few minutes later, the basilisks spiraled down to the ground.

  We flew over some trees, and a large gray stone mansion appeared, surrounded by bright, colorful flowers. I recognized it immediately. After all, I had just been here on a field trip two days ago.

  The Idun Estate.

  Covington already had Serket’s Pen. So what were we doing back here?

  I didn’t know, and I didn’t want to stick around to find out. The basilisk dropped closer to the ground…and closer…and closer…

  I tensed. The second the creature’s feet touched down, I was going to leap off, whirl around, and attack Drake.

  But he must have guessed what I was planning. When we were five feet off the ground, he shoved me off the basilisk. I yelped in surprise and put my arms out, trying to break my fall, but I still hit the ground hard. Pain shot through the left side of my body, and my brain rattled around inside my skull. A moment later, my healing magic flared to life, smoothing out the bumps and bruises, but I was still dazed.

  Drake landed the basilisk and hopped down off the creature, still clutching his dagger. “Not so tough now, are you, Spartan?” he hissed. “Let’s go.”

  He grabbed my arm and hauled me to my feet. The sudden change in elevation made my head ache even more, although my healing magic eased the worst of the pain.

  Covington had already landed his basilisk, and he was pushing Professor Dalaja along in front of him. Drake made me fall in step behind them.

  The basilisks had landed at the edge of the lawn that ringed the estate, and the four of us tromped through the grass, heading toward the mansion. I hadn’t gotten to see the gardens during the field trip, but now we walked past bed after bed of wildflowers, each patch brighter, prettier, and more colorful than the last. Maybe it was my imagination, but the flowers seemed to turn their heads and watch us, like they always did whenever I was in the Eir Ruins dreamscape with Sigyn. I shivered. Creepy.

  We left the flowers behind and reached a large stone patio at the back of the mansion. I glanced around, expecting to see some guards or staff members come running outside, but the estate seemed quiet and deserted.

  Professor Dalaja noticed my confusion. “The Protectorate closed the estate after the field trip. No one else is here.”

  My stomach clenched. My hand crept over to my bracelet, and my fingers curled around Pan’s Whistle. Once again, I thought about using the artifact to summon the gryphons, but Covington was still holding Serket’s Pen. Even if I blew on the whistle, he could always conjure up more basilisks to go with the two that were already here.

  I needed more than the gryphons. I needed my friends to come here too. But the whistle only summoned creatures, not people, and it wasn’t like I could ask Brono to fetch Ian and the others the way he had run around with Babs in his mouth in the clearing the other night.

  Or could I?

  An idea popped into my mind. Maybe I could summon the gryphons and my friends at the same time. I didn’t know if it would work, but it was the only chance Professor Dalaja and I had.

  The Reapers shoved us toward the mansion doors. I discreetly fluttered my fingers at Dalaja to get her attention, then dropped my hand to my bracelet and tapped my index finger on Pan’s Whistle.

  Her eyes narrowed. She knew all about artifacts, so of course she recognized the whistle. She winked at me, telling me she had a plan.

  “Keep moving,” Drake growled.

  He reached out and shoved the professor, who pretended to trip and stumble. Dalaja hit the ground, and I knew this was my chance to use the whistle.

  “Professor!” I cried out.

  I hurried forward and crouched down over her. My back was to Covington and Drake, and I ducked my head and brought my right wrist up to my face. Then I put my lips on Pan’s Whistle and blew on it as hard as I could. I pictured Balder and Brono in my mind, but the gryphons weren’t the only ones I pictured. I also thought about Ian. His smile, his laugh, his beautiful gray eyes.

  Ian, I thought. Find Ian and my friends, and bring them here. Please. Before it’s too late—

  Behind me, I heard the distinctive rasp of a sword sliding free of a scabbard.

  “Get up,” Drake growled again. “Both of you. Or you will wish you had.”

  I was out of time, so I let the whistle fall free of my lips and dropped my wrist back down to my side. Then I reached out and helped Professor Dalaja to her feet. Together, we faced the Reapers again.

  Drake had exchanged his dagger for a sword, and he stabbed the weapon at Dalaja, then over at the alarm box on the side of the mansion. “Disarm the security system. Now.”

  I looked at her. “Why would they think you have the alarm codes?”

  “You don’t know?” Covington let out a small, amused laugh. “Dalaja isn’t just some doddering old academic. She might prefer to go by her first name, but she comes from a famous mythological family. Isn’t that right, Professor Idun?”

  Surprise jolted through me. Idun? She grimaced, letting me know that Covington’s words were true and that her full name was Dalaja Idun.

  “Dalaja Idun?” I said. “Then that means…”

  Covington finished my thought. “That the professor is actually the owner of the estate and all of its lovely, lovely artifacts.”

  I looked at Dalaja, who winced in confirmation.

  “So that’s why we always come here on field trips, and that’s why you know so much about the artifacts,” I said. “Because they all belong to you.”

  “More or less,” she admitted. “Although the artifacts don’t belong to me. Not really. I’m just their current caretaker, like my ancestors were before me. That’s what the Idun family does. We collect artifacts and safeguard them from Reapers and anyone else who would misuse them.”

  Drake barked out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Some caretaker, considering the fact that we’re about to break into your big, shiny mansion and steal the most powerful things you have.”

  Dalaja straightened up to her full height, and pride and determination filled her face. “I am not afraid to die to protect the artifacts from you, Reaper.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  Drake gave her an evil grin and twirled his sword around in his hand, but the professor lifted her chin and stared right back at him.

  “Enough,” Covington said.

  He raised Serket’s Pen. Behind him, the basilisks, which had been wandering around the lawn, snapped to attention. Covington looked at them, making sure that they were under his control, then stared at Dalaja again.

  “Either disarm the security system and open the doors or I’ll have my new pets rip Rory to pieces,” he said. “Your choice, Professor.”

  The basilisks quirked their heads from side to side and hopped forward, their crimson eyes locked onto me. I shuddered, but I forced myself to hold my ground and shake my head.

  “No. Don’t do it, Professor. Protecting the artifacts is more important than anything else.”

  “And that’s one of the reasons you are my favorite student.” Dalaja gave me a regretful smile. “And that’s also why I can’t
let you die. I’m sorry, Rory.”

  Before I could tell her to stop, she opened the alarm box and punched in a series of numbers on the keypad inside. The light on the pad flashed from red to green, and a faint buzz sounded as the doors unlocked.

  “Excellent,” Covington said. “Now I can finally get what I came here for. Professor, if you will be so kind as to lead the way.”

  Dalaja reached out, opened the double doors, and headed inside. Covington followed her. Drake brandished his sword at me again. My hands curled into fists, but I had no choice but to step inside the mansion.

  * * *

  The doors swung shut behind us. The basilisks stayed outside, although they hopped forward and stared at the closed doors, as if they wanted to peck the glass out of the frames, storm inside, and chase after us. I shuddered again and looked away from the monsters.

  “Move,” Drake snapped.

  He brandished his sword at me again, and I fell in step behind Covington and Professor Dalaja. We moved through the mansion, going from one room to the next. Covington stopped every now and then to admire something, but he didn’t pick up anything, and we kept going.

  Finally, we ended up in the library. Of course. This was where most of the artifacts were.

  I glanced around, but the Protectorate guards had cleaned up the mess from the basilisk battle. The broken glass and smashed furniture had been removed, and the books had been put back on their shelves. The only remaining signs of the fight were the chandelier, which was barely clinging to the ceiling, and the empty space in the corner where Serket’s Pen had been stored in its case.

  To my surprise, Covington went straight over to that corner. He already had the pen, so what else could he be after?

  I got my answer a moment later, when he stopped in front of the artifact case that was right next to where the pen had been. He smashed his elbow into the glass, breaking it, then reached inside and drew out the artifact. He turned around, showing off his prize.

  An amulet dangled from his fingers.

  It was the same artifact I had noticed during the field trip—a polished jet amulet with thin silver tendrils wrapping around it, all of it attached to a long silver chain. And just like before, I felt like I had seen those shapes and colors somewhere, although I still couldn’t remember when or where.