Suddenly tired of well, everything, especially the weird way I was feeling, I got to my feet and grabbed my gray messenger bag.
“Where are you going?” Carson asked.
Another giggle echoed through the dining hall as yet another girl fawned over Logan. The sound made my headache that much worse. “Someplace quiet where you can’t get autographs.”
Chapter 8
The rest of the day dragged by, but finally, it was time for my sixth period myth-history class. I slid into my seat behind Carson just as the bell rang.
A minute later, Professor Metis stepped into the classroom and closed the door behind her. Bronze skin, stocky body, silver glasses, black hair pulled back into a tight bun. Metis looked the same as she always did, although today, her eyes seemed dull and weary, and her shoulders drooped in exhaustion. Daphne might have healed Carson yesterday, but Metis had been responsible for patching up all the other students who’d been injured. It looked like the professor was still feeling the aftereffects of the attack, just like the rest of us were.
Metis shuffled over and arranged some papers on a podium that was almost as tall as she was. Then, she turned her attention to the students.
“I’m sure you’ve all heard by now about the Reaper attack,” she said. “About the students who were killed, the ones who were injured, and the others who fought back against the Reapers.”
Metis’s eyes focused first on Carson, then me, and all the other students turned to look in our direction, too. Carson sighed, while I sank a little lower into my seat. I didn’t know why Metis was making me out to be some kind of hero, when I knew that I wasn’t—and would never be.
“The students at the coliseum were all very brave,” Metis said. “And we can all learn something from what happened. As horrible as the attack was, it’s reminded me and the other professors what we are here to do. To teach you—all of you—how to best use your magic and skills to protect yourselves and your loved ones, and to fight against the Reapers should you ever be unlucky enough to encounter them like your classmates did.”
The professor looked from one kid to the next, until finally, her green eyes met mine. After a moment, I dropped my gaze. All I wanted to do was forget about what I’d seen yesterday, even though I knew I never would.
“I was going to quiz you today about the artifacts you were supposed to have gone to the coliseum to view over the winter break,” Metis said. “But that doesn’t seem fair, considering the circumstances.”
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Metis’s quizzes were always tricky, no matter how much you studied.
“Instead, I’d like you to turn your books to page 269,” Metis said. “Today, we’re going to discuss some of the unique architecture that can be found on the academy grounds.”
Architecture? That sounded totally boring, but I flipped over to the appropriate page and found myself looking at the Library of Antiquities. The black-and-white photograph made the building look darker and even more ominous than it usually did.
“We’ll start with the library, since it’s the largest building on campus,” Metis began. “As you can see, the library has a number of balconies, not to mention the towers on the roof... .”
For the next thirty minutes, Metis talked about everything from the library’s many features to the architectural styles that had influenced them to the net worth of the gold and gems that made up the frescoes covering the building’s interior dome. Answer: Close to five million big ones. Except for that fun, larcenous fact, the information was all seriously, seriously eye-glazing, and I had to pinch myself a few times just to stay awake. I was about to zone out again when Metis finally moved on to a slightly more interesting topic.
“Now, let’s discuss the various statues that can be found at the library,” she said. “Please turn over to page 273.”
Pages rustled, and once again, I found myself staring at another black-and-white photo. Only this time, it was a close-up shot of the two gryphons that guarded the steps outside the Library of Antiquities.
They looked just as fierce in my myth-history book as they did in real life. The gryphons sat up straight, their eagle heads held high and their wings tucked in tight behind their enormous lion bodies, like they were getting ready to salute—or snap at you with their hooked beaks and sharp claws.
As I stared at the page, the photo began to blur and melt, like the ink was still wet and about to smear everywhere. I sighed. Not again. The statues were creepy enough by themselves—I didn’t need my psychometry to kick in and make them seem any more lifelike and frightening than they already were, but that was exactly what was happening. Sometimes my Gypsy gift went a little haywire and made me see things that weren’t really there. I didn’t know exactly why.
Even though I knew what was coming, I couldn’t help staring as the gryphons in the photo began to move, arch, and stretch, like two cats waking up from a long winter’s nap. The gryphons curved their bodies this way and that, their lion tails lashing back and forth, claws sheathing and unsheathing, beaks screeching open and snapping shut with loud clicks. Then, the creatures’ heads swiveled around to me, their narrowed, lidless eyes staring out at me from the photo. The gryphons started stalking toward me, like I was their intended prey—
I shook my head. The gryphons snapped back into their original positions, and the photograph returned to normal. I carefully leaned back from my myth-history book, keeping my gaze away from the gryphons. Creepy.
“Like all the statues on campus, the gryphons are meant to be guardians,” Metis continued her lecture. “That’s what they symbolize—protection, dedication, devotion to a higher cause.”
“You mean like the sphinxes perched on either side of the main gate?” an Amazon asked from across the room. “The ones that supposedly break out of their stone shells and attack if a Reaper tries to sneak onto campus? That’s what’s meant to happen, right?”
Metis nodded her head. “Exactly like that. All of the statues, the gryphons and sphinxes included, are imbued with magic and wards to protect the campus and keep Reapers from entering. Even if the Reapers were to somehow get past the outer defenses and mount an attack, the statues would still trigger an alarm, a siren that would alert everyone on campus as to what was happening.”
I noticed that the professor didn’t exactly answer the girl’s question about whether or not the sphinxes would really come to life and rip the Reapers to shreds. After what I’d seen the Reapers do at the coliseum, that’s exactly what I hoped would happen. I’d been hanging around Vic too long—I was starting to get as bloodthirsty as the sword was.
“Now, nothing is foolproof, but I want you all to know that you are as safe at the academy as you can possibly be,” Metis said. “That’s why I wanted to talk about the statues today and to mention that all of the staff are dedicated to protecting you—even more so now, given the tragedy at the coliseum.”
One by one, Metis looked at all the students again, before her gaze finally locked with mine. I wanted to believe the professor, really I did, but after what I’d seen the Reapers do yesterday, I knew that none of us were safe, not even behind the stout walls of Mythos Academy.
“And now, for your next essay assignment.”
A chorus of groans sounded, but Metis ignored them.
“For your next essay, I want you to pick a statue, research it, and write a report on its history, architecture, and so on,” she said. “I expect several sources and a full bibliography. From real books in the library, people, and not some pseudo mythological quotes you found on your friend’s academy profile page.”
More groans rippled through the room, but the bell rang, drowning them out. The other kids got to their feet and started packing up their things, but I stayed seated, my gaze once again going to my myth-history book and the photograph there.
The gryphons, I decided. I’d do my report on the gryphons. It was time I got over this weird, paranoid fear I had of them and all the other statues.
I started to go up to Metis after class to ask if she, Nickamedes, or Coach Ajax had turned up anything on the Reapers that had attacked the coliseum. Who they really were, where they might be hiding, if the Reaper girl was with them. I also wanted to ask Metis what she and the others were going to do about the Helheim Dagger—if they were going to organize groups to start searching the library for it. The professor had let me keep the original map, just in case I could get any more vibes off it, but she’d taken the other copies so she, Nickamedes, Ajax, and supposedly Raven could study them.
To my surprise, the professor packed up her briefcase and left the classroom before half the students did. I wondered where Metis was off to in such a hurry, but I didn’t want to be a total freak, shove through the crowd, chase after her, and ask.
So I eased into the flow of students streaming down the hall, pushed through the closest door, and walked down the steps of the English-history building. It was cold on Cypress Mountain, even for January, and the frosty air blasted through my heavy, purple plaid coat like a battering ram. There should have at least been snow on the ground if we had to endure some frigid Arctic blast, but of course, there wasn’t. I don’t know why that put me in such a grumpy mood, but it did.
I took my gloves out of my pockets and pulled them on, then wrapped my gray wool scarf with its glittering snowflakes around my neck. I also yanked the matching toboggan down over my flyaway hair, but the extra layers didn’t help as much as they should have.
Still thinking about the cold, Metis, and the Reaper girl, I left the upper quad behind, stalked down the hill, and hurried across the lower quads. I tucked my chin down into my scarf and didn’t stop walking until I reached the edge of campus and the twelve-foot-high wall that separated Mythos Academy from the outside world.
The iron bars on the gate loomed up in front of me, reminding me exactly where I was—and that I wasn’t supposed to be here. Not today, anyway. Most afternoons, I slipped through the bars, walked over to the bus stop, and rode down into the city to see Grandma Frost, but I’d forgotten that I wasn’t going to leave campus today, that I’d promised Grandma I wouldn’t because of the Reaper attack. Even though I really wanted to see her, I didn’t want my grandma to worry about me any more than she already was.
Sighing, I glanced at my watch. I still had plenty of time to kill before I had to go to the Library of Antiquities to work my regular shift. Despite the cold, I didn’t feel like going back to my dorm room and obsessing about Logan, the Reaper girl, where my mom had hidden the Helheim Dagger, and everything else that was on my mind right now.
I called Daphne, hoping I could hang out with the Valkyrie, but she didn’t pick up. Weird. My best friend was one of those obsessive people who always picked up their phones. Even when someone texted her, Daphne would usually just go ahead and call them back. I wondered what was up with the Valkyrie. First, she’d bolted out of the dining hall during lunch, and now, she wasn’t answering her cell. It wasn’t too hard to figure out it had something to do with what had happened at the coliseum. I just couldn’t imagine what it could be, though. Yeah, the attack had been scary and horrible, but we’d come through it okay. That was what I was focusing on, or at least trying to, even though Samson Sorensen’s dead face and those of the other kids had flashed through my mind more than once today.
Since I didn’t have anything to do or anywhere to be for a while, I decided to wander along one of the ash gray cobblestone paths that ran parallel to the wall and see where it took me. Usually, I just walked straight down to the gate and ran over to the bus stop. I’d never stopped to explore what was just inside the wall, so I set off on one of the paths, heading to the left.
Purple pansies and other small winter flowers struggled to keep their colorful petals spread wide, despite the chill in the air. Above them, the trees stretched their bare, skeletal branches out in all directions, creating a dark wooden canopy that screened out what little sun there was. A few iron benches were tucked away in the blackening shadows, while a small creek that snaked alongside them had completely iced over.
And of course, there were more statues.
The statues were made of the same dark gray stone as the ones on the main campus buildings, although these were much smaller, no more than two or three feet high. A small group of them was clustered around a stone footbridge that arched over the frozen creek. The largest figure had a man’s torso, along with goat’s hooves and a short tail. Two horns curled up out of his stone hair, and he held a flute to his lips, like he was getting ready to blast out a cheery tune. I recognized the statue as Pan, the Greek god of the shepherds and a whole bunch of other things, depending on which myth-history book you picked up in the library.
Several other stone statues of wood nymphs and dryads were arranged around him, their arms wide and feet high, flowers clutched in their fingertips, like they were dancing to Pan’s phantom song. The more I stared at them, the more it seemed like the nymphs were looking back at me, their eyes narrowing to sly slits, their lips drawing back to show their teeth, their fingers strangling the delicate petals in their grasps.
I sighed and looked away. Sometimes I thought if I never saw another statue again, it would be too soon. And now I had to do a stupid report on them for Metis’s class. Ugh.
I kept walking, passing more benches and more statues, but what surprised me was the fact that several more gates were set into the stone wall that circled the academy. So far, I’d only been through the main gate and the secondary one at the end of the parking lot behind the gym, but iron bars were spaced into the wall every few hundred feet. A pair of stone sphinxes perched above them all, looming over either side of the open spaces. I supposed there were so many gates in case the students ever needed to leave campus in a hurry—like if the Reapers ever attacked the academy in a group the way they had the coliseum. The thought made my stomach knot up.
Despite my brisk pace, the winter chill continued to creep through my clothes and seep into my bones. I’d just turned around to head back to my warm dorm room when a low growl sounded.
I froze, suddenly colder than ever before, wondering if I’d only imagined the sound—and really, really hoping I had. In my experience, growls were never, ever good. Growls usually meant that large, scary creatures like Nemean prowlers were lurking around and intent on tearing into me with their teeth and claws. I was so not fond of the oversize, black panther-like creatures— especially since the Reapers trained them to be deadly, kitty-cat assassins.
The growl rippled through the air again, shattering any hope I’d had of it just being my imagination or my Gypsy gift gone wild. I slowly turned my head to the right—and saw the Fenrir wolf.
Chapter 9
The Fenrir wolf was hunkered down in a pile of leaves on the other side of the gate I was standing in front of. The creature was even longer than I was tall, with a thick, powerful body and razor-sharp teeth and claws to match. Its fur wasn’t quite black, but more like the dark, deep, smoky color of ashes. The shaggy coat helped it blend in with the shadows cast by the towering trees. The last time I’d seen a Fenrir wolf, I’d noticed that its fur had crimson strands glistening in it, but I didn’t see any in this creature’s coat. Its eyes were a rusty red, although the color was far dimmer than I remembered it being and without the creepy burning glow that had told me just how much the wolf had wanted to gobble me up.
My gaze roamed over the creature, and my eyes caught on its ear. A small V was grooved into the wolf’s right ear, and I knew it was my wolf after all. The one I’d met at the ski resort, the one that had kept me from freezing to death after we’d both been caught in the avalanche Preston had set off. The wolf had gotten the V-shaped scar that day.
“Um, puppy?” I asked in a tentative voice, since that was all I’d ever called the wolf. “Is that really you?”
At the sound of my voice, the Fenrir wolf sprang to its feet, and its muzzle creased back into what looked like a—a smile. Okay, that was a little creepy. Usually, mythological creatures weren’t any happier to see me than I was to notice them stalking me and licking their chops at the thought of sinking their teeth into my body. But the wolf actually seemed glad I’d noticed it, like—like it had been waiting here for me to walk by.
The wolf let out a soft whine and crept closer to the gate, making the leaves crackle underneath its enormous body. I walked over to the iron bars. I hesitated, then stretched my hand out through one of the gaps. The wolf paced back and forth for a few seconds before heading toward me and shoving its head underneath my hand.
As soon as my fingers brushed its fur, images of the wolf began to fill my mind. Flashes of the crushing avalanche that had almost buried us both, then one of the branch that had pierced the creature’s leg and of me shoving the sharp wood out so the wolf could walk again, even a memory of me facing down Preston and the wolf spoiling the Reaper’s aim when Preston had tried to kill me with a crossbow.
More images zipped through my mind, of snow and trees and the wolf running through the forest, along with the creature’s feelings. There was only one emotion, really—happiness. Pure, fierce, intense happiness that it was finally free of the Reapers who had caged it, hurt it, tortured it for so long. Tears burned my eyes at the intensity and depth of the wolf’s elation.
Then, the image of another wolf popped into my head, a second Fenrir wolf, although this one didn’t have the Reaper red tint to its gaze or fur. It must be one of the wild Fenrir wolves that Metis had told me about, the ones who lived deep in the mountains and were rarely seen by members of the Pantheon. At first, my wolf was cautious around this other creature, but soon, the two of them were hunting through the snow together. Playing, mock fighting, even snuggling together.
Dark Frost: A Mythos Academy Novel Page 9
