Spartan Heart

by Jennifer Estep

  “What do you mean? You’re a sword too. Of course you’re useful.” Another thought occurred to me. “Wait a second. Does this have something to do with the chimera attack? You didn’t even want me to pick you up last night, much less actually wield you in battle. Did I do something wrong?”

  “Oh, no! You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me—it’s always me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Babs sighed again, but she rolled her eye around to look at me. “I mean that I’m cursed.”

  I frowned. “Cursed? What curse?”

  She sighed for a third time. “My curse. The one that Macha, an Irish war goddess, placed on me long ago.”

  Shock zinged through me. My muscles tensed, and I wanted to lurch away from the sword. But I knew that would hurt Babs’s feelings, so I forced myself to stand still.

  For a moment, I thought she was going to stay silent, but Babs looked at me again.

  “I used to be Macha’s sword, and for centuries, she proudly wielded me in battle. Even among the gods, Macha is a very strong, fierce warrior, and she never lost a fight with me in her hand.”

  “So what happened?”

  An embarrassed blush colored her metal cheek. “I got a little…arrogant. I started bragging about how I was the best sword in all the realms, how no one could ever defeat me, and I started challenging other beings to fights. Gods, goddesses, warriors, even creatures.” Babs winced. “If there’s one thing that you don’t do around the gods, it’s talk about how awesome you think you are.”

  I nodded. Myth-history was full of people who claimed they could do things better than the gods, and most of them got punished as a result of their boasting. Like Arachne, the mortal woman who was turned into a spider after she’d claimed she could weave better than Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom.

  “So what happened?” I asked.

  “Macha got tired of my constant bragging and all the fights that went along with it. We were in the middle of a sparring contest with some of the other Irish gods one day, and my boasting distracted her. Another goddess managed to slice her arm, making her lose the contest. Macha was furious.” Babs’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Absolutely furious. Trust me. You do not want to see a war goddess when she’s angry.”

  I nodded again. I had seen Loki’s rage during the academy battle, so I could well imagine Macha’s wrath.

  “Anyway, since I’d made her lose the contest and embarrass herself, Macha decided to curse me,” Babs continued. “And any warrior who dares to wield me.”

  “Curse you how?”

  “Everything’s fine for the first two battles that any warrior fights with me. But during the third battle…” Her voice trailed off, and she dropped her gaze from mine, as if she couldn’t stand to look at me right now.

  “What happens?” I asked. “What’s so important about the third battle that someone fights with you?”

  The sword focused on me again. A tear shimmered in her eye, but she still didn’t answer me.

  Dread curled up in the pit of my stomach. “Babs, what happens during the third battle? You need to tell me. Please.”

  She cleared her throat several times, as if she was having trouble getting the words out, but she finally spoke. “My warrior dies.”

  Her voice came out as a low, raspy whisper, and that tear welled up in her green eye, streaked down her cheek, and fell off her chin. The tear spattered onto my hand, which was resting on the shelf next to her. The drop felt as cold as a snowflake stinging my skin. More dread filled me.

  “You’re kidding, right?” I said. “How is that even possible? Surely some warrior can win a third battle with you.”

  Babs’s entire hilt quivered, as though she were trying to shake her half of a head. “No, no, they can’t. No matter how weak their opponent is or how good a fighter my warrior is, they can never, ever win the third battle. They might be able to kill their opponent, but something always happens to my warrior, and they die as well. Like their opponent cutting my warrior with a poisoned blade or getting in one final lucky strike. Trust me. I’ve seen it all, and the curse never fails.”

  Another tear slipped down her face and hit my hand, adding to the cold sensation there.

  “You have no idea how horrible it is,” she rasped. “Knowing that as soon as someone picks me up, they’ve been cursed to die, all because I couldn’t keep my stupid mouth shut. It’s the worst thing that Macha could have possibly done to me.”

  “But surely there must be some way around the curse.” I thought about it for a moment, then snapped my fingers. “I know. I’ll just use a different sword. No big deal.”

  Babs’s hilt quivered, as though she were trying to shake her half of a head again. “That doesn’t work. As soon as you touched me, you bound yourself to me. You can’t get rid of me, Rory. Even if you locked me away down here, as soon as you started fighting, I would magically appear in your hand, even if you were miles away and holding another sword or weapon at the time.”

  A chill slithered down my spine. I’d heard of such things before, of weapons that you couldn’t get rid of no matter how hard you tried. Daphne Cruz, Gwen’s friend, had a bow like that, one that had kept reappearing in her dorm room, no matter how many times she tried to give it back to the museum it had come from.

  Babs stared at me with a sad, weary, resigned expression, as if she knew exactly what I was thinking. No doubt she did, since she’d probably had this same conversation with dozens of other warriors over the years.

  “The only thing I can tell you to do is not to get into any fights,” Babs said. “Sometimes that works. For a while, anyway. A nice Amazon once kept me for almost a year before her third and final battle.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t do that. You know I can’t do that. Not now, when I just joined the Midgard to track down these new Reapers. Besides, I’m a Spartan. Fighting is what we do, and being warriors is what we are.”

  She gave me another miserable look. “I know. And Spartans always die the fastest because of that. I’m sorry, Rory. So very, very sorry. I was so happy when that nice old lady took me out of storage. I thought that being up on the second floor meant I could be out in the world a little bit and everyone would still be safe from me. But that’s not the case. That’s never the case.” Her mouth quivered, as though she were fighting back a sob.

  Part of me wanted to leave her on the shelf, walk away, and never look back, just like she’d suggested. I had enough problems already without adding a cursed sword to the mix. And I couldn’t help but wonder why Sigyn had done this to me. She had told me that she had put Babs out in the library for me to use in the battles to come. So why would she give me a cursed sword?

  Perhaps Sigyn hadn’t known about the curse, since Babs had belonged to another goddess. Or perhaps she thought I could help give Babs that fresh start she said the sword needed. Either way, it seemed as though I was stuck with the sword now, whether I liked it or not.

  Babs looked so utterly miserable that I found myself stepping closer to her. I knew what it was like to have something forced on you, something that was completely out of your control, something that ruined your life no matter how hard you tried to fight it.

  I leaned forward so that I was at eye level with the sword. “Listen, don’t worry about this whole curse thing. There has to be some book in the Library of Antiquities that can tell us how to break it. Or maybe even one of the artifacts down here in the Bunker can help. Besides, if anyone can survive having a cursed sword, it’s a Spartan, especially this Spartan. Trust me. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she whispered, although I could tell she didn’t really believe me.

  I didn’t believe me either. Despite all my comforting words, we were still talking about a curse enacted by a vengeful goddess. How could I possibly beat that without getting killed myself? But then again, this was why I’d agreed to be on the Midgard—to protect everyone else. Maybe that included Babs too. Maybe the sword just needed someone
to help her fight her curse, instead of trying to get rid of her.

  A third tear welled up in Babs’s eye, this time sliding all the way down her chin and onto her blade below. I reached out and gently wiped it off, even though it made my own hand even colder than before. As my finger slid down the blade, I felt some faint markings in the metal. I leaned forward again and squinted. At first, I thought they were just scratches, but then I realized that the marks almost looked like…letters.

  I squinted at the blade again, tilting my head this way and that, trying to find the right angle so I could make out the letters, but I couldn’t quite bring them into focus. I almost thought they spelled out the word devotion, but I wasn’t sure.

  “What’s wrong?” Babs said. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

  “Nothing.” I straightened up and forced myself to smile at her. “Nothing at all. Now, come on. Let’s get you cleaned up before the others get here.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I grabbed Babs, left the shelves behind, and sat down at the main table in the center of the briefing room. I’d just finished wiping away the sword’s tears and polishing up her face when the others trooped into the Bunker.

  Zoe and Mateo both nodded at me, and Zoe even came around the table to sit next to me, but Ian scowled as he dropped into the chair across from mine. I ignored him. I was here, whether he liked it or not, and I didn’t have anything to prove to him. Not one thing. That’s what I kept telling myself, anyway.

  A moment later, Takeda strolled into the Bunker wearing the same dark gray tracksuit that he’d had on in gym class earlier. He looked at the four of us gathered around the table. If he was surprised that I was here, he didn’t show it or comment. Then again, I imagined it took quite a lot to crack the Samurai’s ever-calm attitude.

  “Okay, team,” he said. “Where are we at? Report.”

  Mateo grabbed the remote from the center of the table and passed it over to Ian, who hit some buttons on the device. Images of a large mansion appeared on the monitors on the wall.

  “Our suspect, Lance Fuller, is throwing a party tonight. All of the academy kids have been invited, including the four of us,” Ian said. “We think that Lance might use the party as a cover to meet with the other Reapers. He might be planning to hand the chimera scepter over to them, maybe even Sisyphus himself, if the Reaper leader shows up. But the party will also give us a chance to snoop around the mansion. If we’re lucky, we might be able to find the scepter before Lance meets with any Reapers.”

  Ian hit some buttons, and more photos of the mansion appeared on the monitors, showing the spacious rooms inside, as well as the pools, tennis courts, and landscaped grounds that surrounded the sprawling structure.

  Each image brought back memories. I had gone to Lance’s back-to-school party last year, and I had even flirted with him a little when we’d both been getting sodas in the kitchen. It had been one of the best nights of my life. Then, a few days later, my parents had been killed, and everything had changed.

  I shifted in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable, and my charm bracelet clattered against the table. I winced at the harsh jangling sound.

  “Something wrong, cupcake?” Ian asked.

  “Just wondering when you’re going to get to the point.”

  Ian opened his mouth to snipe at me, but Takeda crossed his arms over his chest, silently telling the Viking to focus on the briefing.

  “We’ll do our usual operation,” Ian said. “Zoe and I will infiltrate the mansion, while Takeda and Mateo stay in the van. Mateo will hack the security system so the two of them can see and track our progress through the mansion. Zoe will use her gadgets on any locks or alarms that we encounter, and I’ll watch her back in case we run into any Reapers while we’re searching for the chimera scepter. Once we have the scepter, we’ll remove it from the premises, then wait for the Reapers to arrive. Depending on how many of them show up, we’ll either capture them ourselves or call for Protectorate backup.”

  As much as I hated to admit it, Ian had come up with a solid plan. Takeda nodded, along with Zoe and Mateo, but I raised my hand as though we were in class.

  “And what do I get to do, professor?” I asked.

  Ian rolled his eyes, as though the answer should have been obvious. “You get to flirt with Lance like you did on the quad this morning.”

  I frowned. Not the assignment I’d expected. “Why me? Zoe is way cuter.”

  The petite Valkyrie perked up and blew me a kiss, making blue sparks of magic shimmer in the air around the two of us. I grinned back at her. It was true. She was way cuter than me.

  “Because you’re the one Lance personally invited to his party,” Ian said. “You’re the one he knows, so you can keep tabs on him while Zoe and I search the mansion. Do you think you can handle that?”

  “Yes, I can handle being the distraction. Why don’t you give me something more challenging to do?”

  “Because I don’t trust you,” Ian snapped.

  He didn’t trust me? He didn’t even know me, but he’d already condemned me for what my parents had been, just like everyone else at this stupid school. Well, I’d had enough of his attitude and insults. Anger roared through me, and I shot to my feet, my hands balling into tight fists.

  “You don’t trust me?” I snarled. “Well, I don’t trust you either. How about I make you eat your own teeth? How would you like that, Viking?”

  Ian shot to his feet as well. “Bring it on, cupcake—”

  A sharp whistle cut through the air, making us all wince. Takeda blew on his silver gym whistle two more times before letting it drop back down around his neck.

  “That’s enough,” Takeda said, his voice as calm as ever. “We have work to do. The two of you need to get over your petty dislike of each other. Now, gear up. We leave for the party in thirty minutes.”

  Ian and I kept glaring at each other, our hands still clenched into fists.

  “That’s an order,” Takeda said, a little bite in his voice this time. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

  “Fine,” Ian muttered. “But when this goes sideways, remember that you’re the one who wanted her on the team.”

  He gave me one more hostile glare before he marched out of the briefing room.

  * * *

  Mateo started talking to Takeda about some computer equipment that he needed for the mission. Zoe got to her feet, grabbed her purse from the table, and crooked her finger at me.

  “Come on,” she said. “I’ll help you get ready.”

  I followed her out of the briefing room, down one of the hallways, and into the armory. Gray metal lockers hugged one of the walls, while swords, daggers, and other weapons lined another wall.

  I eyed the weapons, wondering if I should take one of them with me instead of the cursed Babs. But Babs had said that she would reappear in my hand no matter what I did or where I left her, and I didn’t want to hurt the sword’s feelings by choosing another weapon, especially if it wouldn’t keep me safe from her curse anyway. Besides, we were going to steal the scepter from Lance, not fight him for it. I should be fine taking Babs with me tonight.

  Zoe moved past the weapons to the far end of the wall, where some shelves held several oddly shaped items. At first glance, the items looked like ordinary swords, daggers, and spears. But on closer inspection, I noticed that all sorts of buttons, wires, and battery packs were attached to the weapons, making them anything but ordinary.

  Zoe crouched down, then stood up on her tiptoes, scanning the items on each shelf and humming to herself all the while. She finally grabbed something that looked like a small gun with three long metal prongs sticking out of the barrel.

  She noticed my curious stare and struck a pose with the item. “A lockpick gun. Put this in just about any lock, pull the trigger, and it’s open sesame. The gun does all the work of jimmying the lock instead of someone wasting precious seconds actually picking it open. I made it myself.”

  “You invent thing
s?”

  Zoe nodded and dropped the lockpick gun into her purse. “Yep. Mateo does all the computer stuff, but I like messing around with tools and weapons and seeing what I can come up with. Like this little beauty.” She grabbed a dagger off one of the shelves and held it out where I could see it. “This one’s my favorite. I call it my electrodagger.”

  It looked like an ordinary silver dagger—until Zoe pressed her thumb against the blue stone set into the hilt. Blue-white sparks of electricity sizzled up and down the blade, making me jerk back in surprise.

  “It’s a dagger and a stun gun.” She beamed at me, pride filling her face. “Why carry two weapons when you can have them all in one?”

  I grinned back at her. “Now, that is cool.”

  Zoe shoved the electrodagger into her purse, along with a few more gizmos, then grabbed a small glass case that contained several wireless earbuds. She stuck one of them into her own ear, then handed one to me and gestured that I should do the same. The device slid easily into my ear, and I could barely tell it was there.

  “Check, check,” Zoe said.

  Her voice echoed in my ear, and I flashed her a thumbs-up, telling her that I could hear her loud and clear.

  “All you have to do is talk in your normal voice, or even whisper, depending on the situation, and we’ll be able to hear you through your earbud,” she said. “And you can hear the rest of us too. This is how we communicate with each other during missions.”

  I nodded. “Got it.”

  We both removed our earbuds. Zoe put them back into that glass case, then slid the whole thing into her bag. The sides of her blue-plaid purse were already bulging, as if the enormous bag were going to explode from all the spy gear she had crammed inside, but Zoe looked over the shelves again, debating whether she needed anything else.