The Reapers on the first floor must have heard my fight with Ian, because three of them had come up here to the second level. The men’s eyes weren’t red, and they weren’t under Covington’s control like my friends were, but the way the three Reapers grinned and hefted their swords told me that they would be happy to hurt me all the same.
“You know, Rory, I’m actually glad that you weren’t affected by the smoke bombs,” Covington said. “And I’m especially glad that you have healing magic.”
“And why is that?” I muttered.
A cruel light glittered in his eyes. It matched the smug sneer that twisted his lips. “Because it will be so much more fun watching your friends cut you to pieces over and over again. I wonder how fast you can heal. How long will it be, how many cuts and slices and slashes will it take, before your healing magic gives out completely? I’m eager to find out.”
Covington clutched the amulet and waved his hand again. My friends all jerked to attention and lifted their weapons. And then they started advancing on me.
Ian, Zoe, Mateo, Aunt Rachel, Takeda, Professor Dalaja. They all wanted to kill me. They would kill me, unless I did something to stop them. But I couldn’t fight my friends. I couldn’t hurt them, much less kill them, not even to save my own life.
So for the second time in less than fifteen minutes, I did the only thing I could.
I ran away.
* * *
I whirled away from Ian and the rest of my friends and sprinted toward the three Reapers who were also standing on the balcony. I didn’t want to hurt my friends, but I had no such worries about the Reapers.
I ran straight at the three men. They let out loud cries and surged forward, raising their swords to attack me.
“Rory!” Babs yelled. “What are you doing? You should be running away from all of them, not heading straight at the Reapers!”
I could have yelled back and told her that I didn’t have a choice, that I had to go through the Reapers to get off the balcony, but I kept quiet. Besides, there was no time for talking right now anyway.
Only fighting.
I reached the first Reaper, who lifted his sword higher, making it easy for me to step up and slash my own sword across his stomach. The Reaper screamed, and I shoved him back into the second man, making them both tumble to the ground. The third Reaper growled and came at me, but I spun past him, leaped over the two men on the floor, and kept going.
I sprinted toward a door set into the wall, put my shoulder down, and pushed through it, going into the stairwell. Once again, I had a choice to make. Did I pound down the stairs to the first floor and try to get out of the library that way? Or did I start climbing again? But how could I escape from the upper floors?
“You stupid, bumbling fools!” Covington roared. “All of you! After her! Now!”
His words made my decision for me. I couldn’t risk going down to the first floor, where all those zombified students and librarians were, along with the remaining Reapers. I didn’t know how many people Covington could control at once with the Chloris Amulet, but I couldn’t risk him siccing everyone in the library on me. I wouldn’t be able to escape without hurting them, and I might not be able to escape at all if they surrounded and swarmed me.
So I raced up the stairs, taking them two and three at a time, just as I had done when I was escaping from the Bunker.
Up, up, up…
I climbed the steps as fast as I could until I reached the door at the very top. The librarians had recently installed a new lock on it, but Mateo had hacked the keypad and given me the code so that I could still come up to the roof whenever I wanted. I punched in the numbers on the keypad, yanked the door open, and stepped outside.
The roof was an enormous square, since it was the top of the tower that made up the main section of the library. A gorgeous mosaic was set into the center of the roof, and the bright sunlight made the colorful bits of stained glass glimmer like a carpet of sparkling jewels. A stone walkway wrapped all the way around the perimeter of the mosaic, and beyond that, a stone railing cordoned off the roof from the open air and the five-story drop below.
“Now what?” Babs muttered.
Good question. The door had automatically closed and locked behind me, but it wouldn’t be long before Covington and the others broke through it. I had three minutes, maybe less, to figure out how to either hide or get out of here.
“There’s absolutely nowhere for you to hide,” Babs muttered again, echoing my thoughts. “And I don’t see any rope or anything else that would help you climb down the building.”
My gaze flicked left and right, but the only things on the roof were a couple of lawn chairs and three lanterns sitting in the corner next to the railing. Babs was right. There was no rope or anything else useful, and nothing in my messenger bag, which was still slung across my chest, would help me escape either.
Still, I had to try.
I rushed over to the railing and looked down. Balconies adorned the library’s various levels, along with windows with stone sills that stuck out from the side of the building. I might be able to move from one balcony and sill to the next and climb down if I was very, very careful. But one wrong move, one small slip, one loose stone, and I would plummet to the ground. And when I landed… Well, maybe my healing magic would save me. Or maybe the impact would kill me outright. Hard to say.
“You’re going to break your neck if you try to climb down,” Babs said, once again echoing my thoughts. “There has to be another way off the roof. Think, Rory. Think!”
I whirled around and looked out over the roof again, but I saw the same things as before. The railing, the walkway, the stained-glass mosaic, the lawn chairs, and the three lanterns in the corner.
My gaze locked on the lanterns, and my heart clenched tight. This was where Ian had brought me after we battled Covington during the Fall Costume Ball. This was where he had given me the potted winterbloom that was on my desk in the Bunker, along with Pan’s Whistle—
My eyes widened. The whistle.
I pushed up my sleeve. Earlier in the Bunker, I had been so focused on trying to find an artifact to use against Covington that I had forgotten about the ones I already had: Freya’s Bracelet and the three attached charms.
My hand was shaking with adrenaline, worry, and fear, but I grabbed hold of the tiny silver whistle, brought it up to my lips, and blew on it as hard as I could. The whistle didn’t make a sound—at least, not one that I could hear—so I blew on it twice more. The whole time, I pictured the Eir gryphons in my mind, especially Balder, the male leader, and Brono, his baby.
Help me, I thought. I’m out of options and almost out of time. Please, please, please help me.
I started to blow on the whistle a fourth time, but a familiar, sickening sound cut me off.
THUNK!
I whirled around, the whistle sliding through my fingers and clattering against the rest of the bracelet still on my wrist. A snout-shaped dent had appeared in the metal door on the far side of the roof. Covington must have brought the Fafnir dragon up here to use as a battering ram.
Once again, I peered over the railing at the five-story drop. I might have risked trying to climb down if no one had been chasing me, but I would slip and fall if I attempted it now. Or worse, the Reapers would make me slip and fall. I couldn’t escape if I was lying on the ground with a broken leg—or if I was dead. No, all I could do now was try to hold off Covington, the dragon, and my friends until the gryphons showed up.
If they showed up.
But I didn’t have to do it alone. I was still clutching Babs in my right hand, and I reached around with my left and yanked Typhon’s Scepter out of the back pocket of my jeans. I’d managed to hang on to the artifact through all my frantic running through the Bunker and the library.
THUNK!
Another dent appeared in the metal, and the door rattled in its frame. This time, I didn’t have Minerva’s Spear to reinforce the door, and I knew the dragon woul
d pound through it soon enough. So I raised the gold scepter and quickly made a sharp figure-eight motion with it.
Black smoke spewed out of the end of the scepter, solidifying into a chimera, and the creature stared at me with its burning red eyes. It didn’t move, didn’t hiss, didn’t blink, didn’t do anything but stare at me. I swallowed and slowly backed away from the creature, even though I knew it wouldn’t hurt me as long as I was holding the scepter.
THUNK!
A third dent appeared, and the screech of metal rang out. The dragon was almost through the door.
I remembered how easily the dragon had dispatched the chimera in the Bunker, so I raised the scepter again and repeated the figure-eight motion, summoning two more creatures. I didn’t know if three chimeras would be enough to kill the dragon, but if I summoned any more creatures, I wouldn’t have any room on the roof to maneuver myself.
Besides, I didn’t want the creatures to accidentally hurt me—or, worse, one of my friends.
The three chimeras stared me, clearly waiting for a command, so I stabbed the scepter at the dented door.
“Kill the dragon,” I said. “And nothing else. Okay?”
The chimeras all blinked, which I was going to take as a yes. Then they turned toward the door and sank down onto their haunches, getting ready to attack. Maybe it was weird, but sadness rippled through me. I knew that the creatures were monsters, more magic than actual flesh and blood, but I still felt guilty about most likely sending the chimeras to their deaths—
The door burst open, and the dragon sprinted out onto the roof. All three chimeras hissed and jumped on the other monster at once. Maybe it was the magic that made them in the first place, or maybe chimera claws were simply sharper than mortal weapons, but the creatures easily tore through the dragon’s red scales, drawing blood.
A few black drops arced through the air and spattered onto the walkway at my feet. They flashed with red fire for a moment, scorching the stone, before turning into an oily sludge. I grimaced and backed away from the blood.
But the chimeras didn’t have the advantage for long.
The Fafnir dragon whirled around, lashed out, and drove its spiked tail into the side of one of the chimeras, which howled with pain at the mortal wound and vanished in a cloud of smoke. Then the dragon whirled around the other way and did the same thing to the second chimera.
The third and final chimera screamed with rage, angry that its compatriots were dead, and launched itself through the air and onto the dragon’s back. The chimera reached out with its massive paw and clawed off one of the dragon’s wings, then sank its teeth deep into the other creature’s neck.
The dragon hissed and tried to shake off the chimera, but the chimera locked its jaws and held on tight. The chimera must have finally hit something vital, because the dragon shrieked and flopped down onto its stomach, with black blood pouring down its neck. The monster twitched a few times, then dissolved into a puddle of oily black goo.
The chimera glared at the spot where the dragon had been, as if making sure that it wasn’t coming back, then turned toward me. It had an expectant look on its face, and its long black tail lashed from side to side, like it was a pet waiting for a treat from its master.
“Um, good job?” I said in a hesitant voice. “Way to kill that dragon dead?”
Apparently, the chimera liked the compliments, because its lips drew back into what I assumed was a smile. I smiled back at it. Maybe it wasn’t such a monster after all—
Thunk!
An ax spun out of the open doorway, zipped across the roof, and buried itself in the chimera’s side. The creature howled with pain and vanished in a cloud of smoke. My head snapped around toward the doorway.
Ian stepped onto the roof.
He stared at me a moment with his red eyes, then walked over and retrieved his ax from where it had landed. Footsteps sounded, and Covington and Drake stepped onto the roof as well.
Covington was clutching Fafnir’s Dagger again, while Drake was holding his sword. Ian moved so that he was standing on Covington’s right side, slowly swinging his ax back and forth, back and forth, as if he was warming up for the moment when he would finally bury the weapon in my chest.
I had to remind myself that it wasn’t Ian. That it was someone else. Someone who didn’t know what he was doing and couldn’t control his actions. I knew that, all of that, but it didn’t make it any easier to bear.
“Really, Rory. I expected far better tactics from you. Why did you decide to run upstairs to the roof? At least, if you had gone downstairs, you might have gotten out of the library before my new soldiers caught you.” Covington shook his head, as though he was deeply disappointed in me.
Disgust spiked through me, along with anger. “Those are not your soldiers,” I snapped. “Those are innocent people, innocent kids, whom you poisoned. And for what? To get some kind of petty revenge against me and the Protectorate for putting you in prison?”
“Making you suffer is a nice bonus, but this is about so much more than simply getting revenge,” Covington replied in a matter-of-fact voice. “For far too long, the Protectorate has controlled the mythological world, imposing its rules and regulations on everyone and making us all stay hidden in the shadows, when we’re the ones with the real power, magic, and skills. When we should be the ones ruling the world. Well, I found a way to control everything and everyone, including the Protectorate. It starts here, today, at this academy, but I’ll soon take control of all the others as well. And once the mythological world is secure, I’ll turn my attention to the clueless mortals.”
“World domination? That’s your goal? Really? Isn’t that a little cliché?”
He smiled. “I prefer to think of it as a classic, and the classics never go out of style. Besides, why should I settle for anything less? I deserve the best, and we all know that having everything is always the best.”
More disgust spiked through me at his twisted logic and unending greed. “You’re a monster.”
Covington shrugged, conceding the point. “That depends on whose side you’re on. And you’re on the wrong one, Rory. You always have been.”
I opened my mouth to insult him again, but he cut me off.
“But I’ve wasted enough time chasing after you, and I want what I came here for.”
He grabbed the Chloris Amulet hanging around his neck. He gestured at Ian, and the Viking hefted his ax.
Covington stared at me again, his eyes cold and hard. “You’re going to tell me what you did with the Narcissus Heart, or I’m going to order your Viking boyfriend to cut you in two with his ax. And this time, there’s nowhere for you to run.”
I looked from him to Ian and back again. Covington meant every word he said, and Ian was fully, completely, under the Reaper’s control. Ian would kill me, despite everything that had happened between us, despite how we felt about each other, despite how much I loved him. Or, worse, I would be forced to kill him to defend myself and break my own heart in the process.
It was an impossible choice and a battle I simply couldn’t win.
“Kill her,” Covington ordered.
Ian grinned, lifted his ax, and stalked toward me. I was still holding Typhon’s Scepter, and I thought about conjuring another chimera. But if I did that, Covington would just use Fafnir’s Dagger to summon another dragon. I didn’t want Ian to get hurt in a fight between the creatures, so I slid the scepter into the back pocket of my jeans. Besides, I would need to hold Babs with both hands to keep Ian from using his Viking strength to knock my sword away from me.
I backed away from Ian, putting as much distance between us as possible, but Covington was right, and there was nowhere for me to run. In desperation, my gaze flicked up, but I didn’t see any figures soaring through the blue sky, just puffy white clouds, along with the snowcapped peak of Snowline Ridge Mountain looming up in the distance. Despair filled me. It didn’t look like the gryphons were coming, which meant that I either had to let Ian hurt m
e or had to hurt him in return. Maybe both.
Ian let out a low, angry growl, snapped up his ax, and swung it at my head.
I sidestepped him and whirled around. “Ian, please, please don’t do this. You don’t want to hurt me. I know you don’t—”
He let out another growl and attacked me again, and I had no choice but to lift Babs to defend myself.
Back and forth, we fought across the library roof, with Ian swinging his ax at me over and over again and me blocking his blows with my sword.
“Rory!” Babs yelled at one point. “You have to fight back! You have to go on the offensive! You can’t just keep blocking his attacks! He’ll get in a lucky strike sooner or later and kill you!”
She was right, but I didn’t have the heart to hurt Ian, so I kept stopping his attacks instead of lashing out with some of my own.
Covington watched the whole thing with an amused smile, but Drake got tired of the fight dragging on. The next time I countered one of Ian’s blows, Drake stepped up and swung his sword at me. I barely managed to block his weapon before Ian swung his ax at me again.
Clash-clash-clang!
Clash-clash-clang!
Clash-clash-clang!
Ian and Drake were both excellent warriors, and their Viking strength gave them a big advantage over me. Even with my Spartan instincts and years of training, it was still all I could do to fight them both off at the same time without them knocking Babs out of my hand or, worse, running me through with their weapons.
“You might as well give up, Rory,” Covington said. “Unless you want your head separated from the rest of your body. You might be Sigyn’s Champion, but your healing magic won’t let you recover from that.”
“If they…kill me…” I rasped between blows. “You’ll never…find…the Narcissus Heart.”
Covington shrugged. “I won’t find it as quickly or as easily, but make no mistake, I will find it. I know you, Rory. You hid the Heart somewhere on campus so that it would be close by, so that you could keep an eye on it, so that you could protect it. I’ll find the artifact sooner or later, with or without your help. And when I do, no one will be able to stop me. Especially not you and that pathetic goddess you serve. As soon as I have the Heart, I’ll order Ian to smash that silly statue of your precious goddess until there’s nothing left of it but dust.”
Spartan Destiny Page 15
