Spartan Frost

by Estep, Jennifer

  I shoved him away, pulled his sword out of the tabletop, and turned to face the next Reaper, but there was no one left to fight. Inari, Sergei, and Dad were all engaged with a Reaper apiece, while all the others lay on the floor, dead or bleeding out from the wounds they’d received.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the final Reaper—the blond guy who had whistled and signaled the others—running out an open doorway on the far side of the dining hall. I immediately headed in that direction.

  “No, Logan!” I heard my dad shout. “Wait!”

  But I didn’t want to wait, and I wasn’t about to let the last Reaper get away. So I tightened my grip on my sword and chased after him.

  The Reaper zigzagged through the ski resort, racing from one hallway and room to the next. He had to be a Roman, given how fast he was moving, and it was all I could do to keep him in sight. The sounds of the fight in the dining hall quickly faded away, and I had no idea where we were in the resort. But I didn’t care. I’d ask the Reaper when I caught up with him—if I let him live that long.

  Finally, the Reaper came to the end of the hallway we were in and darted into a room, vanishing from my line of sight. I sucked down another breath and forced myself to move even faster. Because if there was another exit from that room, and he got out of it before I saw which way he went, he could easily disappear into some other part of the resort—or worse, double back and attack Dad, Sergei, and Inari again. So I ran into the room, my sword up and ready to counter any attack the Reaper might make.

  But he wasn’t there.

  I whirled around and around, but I didn’t see the Reaper anywhere. After a moment, my eyes locked on an open doorway at the back of the room. I listened, but I didn’t hear any footsteps scurrying away. He must have gone through there and into the hallway beyond, which meant I’d lost him after all.

  I let out a loud curse and whirled around, ready to try to find my way back to the dining hall to warn the others the Reaper had gotten away. I took five steps back toward the door I’d come through before I realized I was in a large study—one filled with artifacts.

  They were all lined up in a row on top of a desk on the right side of the study. A spear, a shield, a half-used candle, even a few rings and bracelets. I recognized the items as the ones that had been stolen from various museums in the area. They were the same objects that were in the photos Dad had left on the kitchen table this morning. But the weird thing was that they were all just sitting there, some of them with their ID tags still attached, as if someone had laid them out on the desk and had then promptly forgotten all about them.

  I frowned, wondering why the Reapers would leave the artifacts lying around like that, but at least we’d found them, even if the last Reaper had gotten away. So, once more, I headed toward the door to go find the others. This time, a gleam of glass on the other side of the study caught my eye. I turned in that direction and spotted a table in the corner filled with books. But what really caught my attention was the table next to that one—and the chemistry lab that had been set up there.

  Glass tubes, beakers, and eyedroppers crowded together on the table, along with several burners and small bags filled with green herbs and plants. I frowned again, then walked over to the table so I could get a better look at things. Had the Reapers suddenly developed some fascination with pot? Because that’s what it looked like they were messing with in here.

  One of the beakers held a dark green liquid that was still bubbling, as though it had recently been taken off one of the burners. Steam escaped from the top of the beaker, and I cautiously leaned over it and drew in a quick breath. Whatever was inside the beaker smelled sharp and slightly tangy, almost like some sort of pine sap that had been boiled down. Strange. Even for the Reapers.

  I had started to reach for one of the open books to see if I could figure out what this chemistry experiment was all about when I heard a faint rustle behind me and felt a swirl of air against the back of my neck.

  I leaped to one side, and the Reaper’s sword missed my head by an inch.

  I’d been standing in front of the chemistry set, and his weapon smashed right in the middle of all the beakers, bags, and burners. Glasses broke, sending liquid arching through the air, while a burst of flame erupted from a lit burner.

  The Reaper screamed. At first, I thought it was in frustration that he hadn’t been able to kill me. But then, he turned, and I realized that some sort of liquid from the beakers had spattered onto his face. I didn’t know what it was, but it had already raised red welts and blisters on his skin, including around his nose and mouth. I wondered if he’d accidentally swallowed any of the liquid. Even worse, it had gotten into his eyes, puffing them up and making them almost as red as Loki’s one burning eye.

  The Reaper screamed again. “It burns! It burns! It burns!”

  He flailed around blindly, his sword whipping from one side to the other as he tried to see through whatever was eating into his skin and eyes so he could attack me. I kept away from him, not wanting to get whatever was on him on me too.

  He raised his sword overhead, and I sidestepped him once more. But instead of trying to kill me again, the Reaper let out a choking gurgle, then dropped to the floor. He convulsed for several seconds before his body went slack and still, and a bit of white foam trickled out of the corner of his mouth.

  Dead—the Reaper was dead.

  I loomed over him, my sword up and ready, in case this was some sort of trick, but the Reaper’s red-rimmed eyes had already taken on the sightless gaze of death. I leaned over him and cautiously drew in another breath. That sharp, tangy scent seemed much stronger than before. I glanced at the table, but the beaker with the bubbling green liquid had been destroyed, along with everything else. I wondered if that was what had spattered all over the Reaper, but I had no way of knowing.

  “Logan!” I heard my dad call out. “Where are you?”

  “In here!” I yelled back. “This way!”

  A few seconds later, Dad ran into the room, followed by Inari and Sergei. They drew up short at the sight of me standing over the dead Reaper. They looked around the room, searching for more enemies. When they realized I was alone, their gazes became more speculative, taking in the artifacts, the books, the smashed beakers, and all of the bags of green herbs and plants that lay scattered on the floor.

  After a moment, Dad walked over to me and put his hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  A stern look flashed in his eyes, and Dad opened his mouth like he was going to lecture me, probably about being reckless, running off, and chasing after the last Reaper the way I had. I sighed and got ready to have my ears blasted off by his usual acidic tone. Gwen thought Nickamedes could give a good lecture, but he had nothing on my dad.

  But at the last second, Dad clamped his lips shut. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay,” he finally said in a stiff voice.

  I looked at him in surprise. Before everything that had happened at the auditorium, I probably would have made some snide comment about not getting a lecture. But I could tell he was trying, so I decided to do the same.

  Meanwhile, Sergei headed over to the desk, his gaze moving from the weapons to the jewelry and back again. He let out a low whistle. “Well, it looks like this was definitely the Reaper crew that was stealing artifacts.”

  “I’m more worried about all of this,” Inari said, pointing to the remains of the chemistry set. “What do you think they were making over here?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t get a good look at it before the Reaper attacked me. I thought he was gone, but he must have doubled back and waited for me to lower my guard.”

  I jerked my head at the dead man. “Whatever it was, though, he didn’t like getting it all over his face. I think he might have swallowed some of it too. That’s what killed him. Not me.”

  “What do you think it is, Linus?” Inari asked, peering down at the dead Reaper. “Some sor
t of acid perhaps?”

  Dad’s mouth tightened. “I’m not sure, but I’ll get some techs in here to see if they can figure it out. In the meantime, let’s steer clear of that side of the room. Just because the Reapers are dead doesn’t mean they didn’t leave any nasty surprises behind.”

  Chapter 5

  We moved through the study, carefully looking at everything, but we didn’t find any traps or signs that the Reapers had been expecting us. Otherwise, they would have taken more pains to hide the artifacts. Steam started to wisp up from the broken beakers and various liquids that had been spilled on the floor, so Inari opened one of the study windows, letting some of the cold air inside to flush out the area and get rid of any potentially hazardous fumes.

  After that, it was just a matter of waiting around until more members of the Protectorate showed up to go through the rest of the house and try to identify the dead Reapers.

  While the others continued to examine the herbs and other debris on the floor, I moved over to the artifacts and looked at all of the items. Some of them I’d heard of before, like the shield of Ares, the Greek god of war, or a spear that had belonged to Sekhmet, an Egyptian war goddess. But some of the items were pretty obscure, like a set of tiny diamond rings that had supposedly belonged to Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love, or a half-used candle that had once been the possession of Sol, the Norse goddess of the sun.

  I frowned. I could understand stealing the weapons, but what would the Reapers want with rings and a candle? I shook my head. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be anything good. At the time, I hadn’t thought much about the Reapers stealing the Apate jewels from the Library of Antiquities, and Agrona had ended up using the rubies and other gems to try to turn me into a shell for Loki.

  Still, despite my unease that the Reapers had been able to get their hands on so many artifacts and my concern about what they had been planning on using them for, I couldn’t help but think of Gwen and how she would have loved this. She might grumble about working for Nickamedes in the library, but I knew that she secretly enjoyed being surrounded by the books and all of the strange and curious objects, artifacts and otherwise, that Nickamedes and the other librarians before him had collected over the years.

  If she’d been here, Gwen would have moved from one object to the next, running her fingers across each one, her violet eyes bright with excitement as she used her psychometry to uncover all of the artifacts’ secrets. Sometimes, listening to her talk about books and swords and bows, you would have thought that the objects were actually alive, the way she dreamily recounted all of the many ways they’d been used over the years.

  Of course, I would have teased her for being so excited about a bunch of books, weapons, and jewelry. She would have scrunched her nose up in that cute way she has, rolled her eyes, punched me in the shoulder, and told me I was being a total killjoy for ruining her fun—

  “What are you thinking about?” Dad said, coming over to stand beside me.

  “Nothing. Just . . . nothing. Why do you ask?”

  He hesitated. “Because you were smiling. That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile in, well, in a while now.”

  “Oh.”

  I wasn’t surprised. Thinking about Gwen always made me smile . . . until I remembered what I’d done to her.

  I didn’t say anything else. I expected Dad to drift away after a few seconds, but he stayed right by my side. We stood there in front of the desk, staring at the weapons and other objects instead of each other.

  Finally, Dad cleared his throat to break the awkward silence. “You fought well today,” he said. “Although you shouldn’t have run off like you did. You didn’t know how many more Reapers might have been in the resort. If there had been more of them, they could have cut you off from the rest of us and killed you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m not a kid, Dad. I haven’t been for a long time now. What I am is a Spartan, and Spartans like to fight. You know that because you’re a Spartan too. I saw that Reaper, and I knew I couldn’t let him get away. I didn’t go after him to piss you off. I did it because you and the others had the rest of them under control. It was the right thing to do, going after the Reaper, especially since he led me straight back here to the artifacts. Who knows how many hours it would have taken us to find them otherwise? Besides, you wouldn’t be giving Sergei or Inari this lecture, if they’d done what I did.”

  For a moment, anger shimmered in his eyes, and his jaw clenched tight. I tensed, thinking we were going to get into yet another fight, which was all we ever seemed to do. Which was all we’d ever done since my mom and sister had been killed.

  “I know,” he said. “And you’re right. I wouldn’t be questioning Sergei or Inari’s judgment if they’d done what you did. But that’s because they are members of the Protectorate. They’re trained for situations like these, and they know the risks. Not only that, but they willingly accepted those risks by joining the Protectorate in the first place.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him that I knew the risks too, but he held up his hand, and I swallowed my words—for now.

  “It’s just . . . I’ve already lost your mom and your sister to the Reapers. Because of Agrona and . . . everything she did.”

  Dad’s voice was rough and hoarse, as though it hurt him to say the words, to finally give voice to Agrona’s cruel, wicked betrayal. Despite everything that had happened at the auditorium, he hadn’t uttered her name since then. At least not to me, although I was sure he’d talked to Sergei and Inari about her, about how best to find Agrona and stop her for good.

  Dad cleared his throat again. “I don’t want to lose you too, Logan. I’ve already lost too much to the Reapers. We all have. Especially you.”

  Dad stared at me, pain and weariness etching faint lines around his mouth. For the first time, I noticed the threads of gray around his temples, the faint slump in his shoulders, and the way he held his bloody sword down by his side, as if the weight of the weapon was suddenly too much to bear. All my life, my dad had been this larger-than-life authority figure that nothing ever seemed to bother or touch, not even the murders of his wife and daughter. But now, I realized that he was mortal, just like the rest of us—and that he was hurting, just like I was.

  “I know, and I’m sorry,” I said. “And I don’t want to lose you either. But you’re the head of the Protectorate, and I’m your son. We’re both targets for the Reapers. But more than that, we’re both Spartans. We’re always going to be in the thick of the fight. That’s just who we are, and there’s nothing that we can do to change that. But how about we make a deal to both be a little more careful in the future. Okay?”

  He gave me a stiff nod and blinked a few times, as though he had something in his eyes. Yeah. Me too.

  I put my own bloody sword down on the desk, stepped forward, and wrapped my arms around him. Dad stiffened, and my breath caught in my throat, wondering if I’d done the wrong thing, thinking that he might not return the gesture, that he might actually be afraid of me like everyone else had been at the auditorium, despite all his words to the contrary.

  But after a moment, he reached up and hugged me back just as tight.

  A hug was about as emotional as my dad and I ever got with each other, and we quickly dropped our arms and stepped back. Dad nodded at me, then moved off to talk to Sergei and Inari on the other side of the study. I nodded back and watched him go.

  After a moment, I realized that I was smiling again—and feeling better about things than I had in days now.

  Thirty minutes later, several other members of the Protectorate arrived, men and women wearing the same sorts of gray robes that Dad, Inari, and Sergei sported. There were also a couple wearing hazmat suits, since my dad had told them about the spilled chemicals and all of the weird bags of herbs and plants in the study.

  I stood off to one side out of the way and watched everyone work. Dad stood in the middle of everything, directing the other warriors, listening to what they told him
, and typing notes and more into his smartphone. Pride filled me as I watched him work. He really was a good guy and doing his best to keep everyone safe from the Reapers.

  Eventually, though, the artifacts were examined, samples were taken from the broken beakers, the Reapers’ bodies were packed up, and everything was done that could be done. Dad, Sergei, Inari, and I left the ski resort late that evening and headed back to the mansion. By this point, the sun had gone down, and the flurries had picked up again, until it seemed like we were living inside a giant snow globe.

  We stopped along the way and grabbed several pizzas, since Sergei and Inari were staying for dinner. Then, we all washed up and gathered in the kitchen. Dad and the others talked about a few details that they planned to wrap up tomorrow, but I was starving so I opened one of the pizza boxes. Fighting always made me hungry. Steam curled up out of the cardboard, bringing the mouth-watering smells of melted mozzarella, pepperoni, ham, sausage, and onions with it. My stomach rumbled, and I quickly devoured one piece of pizza at the counter and reached for another, not even bothering to grab a plate.

  I’d just finished my second piece when my phone beeped. I grabbed a napkin and wiped my hands off before I pulled the phone out of my jeans pocket.

  Whatcha doin? The message was from Oliver.

  Eating pizza with Dad, S & I. U? I sent back.

  Sitting in the library with G.

  I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was after six now, which meant that it was time for Gwen to be working in the Library of Antiquities. I hesitated, then texted him back. How is she?

  Good. Grumpy because U R not here.