Crimson Frost

"I don't have any idea where Vivian or Lucretia are," I told the sword. "You know if I had the slightest clue where they were hiding, I'd be out there leading the charge against them."

"I know, I know," Vic grumbled. "And more's the pity that you don't know. Because I would be happy to cut them to pieces for you."

His half of a mouth turned down into a sullen pout, as if he'd just lost out on his favorite treat. I sighed. I knew if I didn't do something to cheer him up, Vic would be in one of his moods for the rest of the night. And people thought teenagers were temperamental. Please. They should spend some time with Vic.

"Wanna go for a ride?" I asked.

Vic rolled his eye. "Well, it would certainly beat staring at the bottom of the bloody counter for another hour or taking yet another nap. Even I can only sleep for so long."

I grabbed the sword, pulled the blade out of his scabbard, and propped Vic up on top of the metal cart so he could see where we were going. Then, I pushed the cart back into the stacks and started shelving the rest of the books.

Vic kept up a steady stream of conversation while I worked, going on and on and on about all the horrible things he was going to do to Lucretia the next time the two swords met in battle. Every once in a while, I chimed in with an uh-huh or an of course you will or even a really? But Vic didn't need me to keep the conversation going. Sometimes, I thought the sword would have talked forever-whether or not he had an audience.

Finally, I shelved the last book, turned the cart around, and headed toward the checkout counter. The library was closing in ten minutes, and I was more than ready to grab my bag and go back to my room for the night.

I steered the cart down an aisle until I came to a crossway in the stacks. A movement caught my eye, and I turned my head just in time to see someone duck behind a bookcase several feet away.

I froze, wondering if I'd only imagined the movement, if perhaps my eyes were playing tricks on me. I squinted and looked through a gap in the bookshelves. Sure enough, a second later, I saw someone moving through the stacks up ahead and to my right. The figure had its back to me, so I couldn't make out who it might be through the shadows that cloaked this part of the library.

I sighed. One of the reasons the library was so popular was because kids loved to sneak into the stacks and hook up with their latest crush-and we weren't talking about just a little kissing, like Logan and I had done. Oh no. Lots of the Mythos students thought that going All the Way in the library was a supercool thing to do. Whatever. I always hated it whenever Nickamedes made me clean back here because I'd always find lots of disgusting things, including used condoms. Yucko.

No doubt the mystery figure was one of the warrior whiz kids who'd just made out with his current honey. Or maybe one of my classmates just wanted to mess with me a final time tonight. Stacking up books so they'd eventually tip over and scare me when I was working late was another game some students loved to play. And given what had happened in the dining hall, I wouldn't put it past Helena or someone else to be lurking around, waiting to jump me and beat the stuffing out of me like they'd wanted to this morning-or worse.

Wary now, I pushed the cart forward, moving parallel to the shadowy figure. Apparently, for once I'd eased all the squeak-squeak-squeaks out of the wheels because they barely made a sound as I rolled the cart across the floor.

I'd just stepped into another crossway, trying to catch up to the figure, when the edge of a black robe whipped around a bookcase twenty feet ahead of me.

I froze again, my knuckles cracking as my hands tightened around the cart's handle. Because hookups or not, pranks or not, Mythos students did not wear black robes-Reapers of Chaos did.

Heart pounding, I grabbed Vic off the top of the cart and hurried after the figure.

"What are you doing?" the sword asked in a slightly muffled voice, since his mouth was underneath my hand. "Why are you leaving the cart behind? You've got to take it back to the counter too."

"Shut up, Vic," I murmured. "I think there's someone else in the library."

But the sword didn't listen to me. "Of course there's someone in the library. Your friends are here, remember?"

"Yeah," I replied. "But none of them is wearing a black robe."

Vic's purplish eye widened, and I felt his mouth curve into a smile beneath my palm. "Bloody Reapers," he said with obvious relish. "Let's kill them all!"

I resisted the urge to tell him to shut up again and raced forward. We were on the back side of the library, behind the glass office complex, and once again voices murmured up ahead. I eased up to the edge of one of the bookcases and peered around the corner.

Oliver and Alexei stood about thirty feet away from me, almost in the same spot where Nickamedes and Linus had argued earlier tonight. I'd thought perhaps the two of them had slipped back here to hook up, but then I noticed that they were glaring at each other. Had something gone wrong between them already?

"You should distance yourself from Gwen," Alexei said. "From what I hear, things are not going to go well for her tomorrow. At the very least, she'll be expelled from the academy. I don't have to tell you what the maximum punishment is for those convicted of being Reapers."

Oliver chewed on his lip. Apparently, he knew that the Protectorate could execute me if I was found guilty. I wondered if the others knew too. Probably. My friends had grown up in the mythological world. They knew the rules-and the consequences of breaking them-a lot better than I did.

"Please," Alexei said, holding out his hand. "Can't we just go back to the way things were over the holidays?"

For a moment, Oliver's face softened with memories. Longing filled his eyes, and he stared at Alexei's hand, obviously wanting to take it. But he slowly shook his head.

"Gwen's my friend," Oliver said. "And I'm not going to abandon her just because she's in trouble, especially since she didn't do the things the Protectorate said she did. She almost died trying to find the Helheim Dagger and keep it safe from the Reapers. You should have seen her that night we found her in the forest by that Garm gate. She was devastated by everything that had happened."

Alexei sighed and slowly dropped his hand to his side. "Maybe she was, but that won't be enough to save her. Not from the Protectorate. She'll be found guilty, and so will anyone who aligns themselves with her."

The two guys stood there, shifting on their feet and not quite looking at each other. Guilt twisted my heart. Oliver finally had a chance at happiness, and he was pushing it aside because of me. I don't know that I would have done the same, if our positions had been reversed, if Logan had been standing in front of me, pleading with me with like that. Oliver was a far better friend than I was-

Once again, I spotted a flicker of movement in the stacks. My head snapped in that direction, and I tightened my grip on Vic.

"Come on," I whispered. "Show yourself."

A second later, a Reaper stepped into view.

The Reaper wore a black robe with the hood pulled up, black leather gloves, and a garish rubber mask-one that resembled the melted half of Loki's face.The same twisted, melted, ruined face I saw whenever I closed my eyes. I shuddered. Somehow, the mask looked even more hideous on the Reaper, maybe because I knew there was a real person under there, someone who'd pledged to serve Loki, someone who happily did all the terrible things that the evil god commanded his Reapers to do. Like lying to their friends. Sacrificing people. Killing warriors. Murdering kids like me.

Still, I forced myself to look at the Reaper to see if I could get any clue as to who was really underneath that horrible rubber mask. Despite the billowing folds of the robe, the figure seemed slender, but it still could have been a man or woman, old or young. I didn't think it was Vivian Holler, though. Vivian was about my size, and this Reaper was several inches taller than I was. Besides, Vivian had no reason to hide her identity with a mask since everyone knew that she was Loki's Champion.

"Reaper," Vic snarled in a soft voice. "Let's go kill it, Gwen."

I nodded at the sword and started forward when I spotted another figure moving through the stacks. I stopped and blinked, wondering if my eyes were playing tricks on me-but they weren't.

Because this figure was wearing a black robe too- and it wasn't alone. Two more figures crept through the stacks behind it, then several more after that, so many I lost count. My blood turned to ice at the horrible sight.

Reapers-Reapers had somehow gotten inside the Library of Antiquities.

And they were about to kill Oliver and Alexei.

Chapter 12

The first Reaper that I'd spotted held up a fist, and the others stopped. The leader made a hand signal, and the others slowly began to spread out, forming a semicircle around Oliver and Alexei. The two guys had started arguing again, so they didn't even notice the Reapers creeping up on them.

My head snapped to the left, as I looked for Logan and Daphne, but I didn't see my friends. Had the Reapers-had the Reapers gotten to them already? Killed them already? The terrible thought made me want to scream, but I forced myself to take a breath and focus on what I had to do now-save Oliver and Alexei. I turned and darted deeper into the stacks.

"Where are you going?" Vic demanded. "Why are you running away? The Reapers are back that way!"

"I know!" I hissed at the sword. "Just trust me!"

I raced back to where I'd left the metal cart, grabbed it with my free hand, turned around, and headed back in the direction that I'd come, pushing the cart in front of me. When I reached the crossway, I veered to the right, then took a left three bookcases up.

A Reaper, a man from the size of him, stood at the far end of the aisle. A curved sword glinted in his hand, and he swung it back and forth a few times as he prepared to spring out of his hiding place and attack Oliver and Alexei. I picked up my pace, forcing myself to run faster. The Reaper must have heard the sound of my footsteps smacking into the marble floor or maybe the faint creak-creak-creak of the cart's wheels because his head turned in my direction-but it was too late.

I rammed the cart into the Reaper as hard as I could. He cursed and stumbled back. He tried to regain his balance, but he tripped over his own feet and sprawled to a stop in the middle of the open floor-right in front of Oliver and Alexei. The guys stared at the Reaper, then at me, with shocked expressions.

"Reapers!" I screamed. "Reapers in the library!"

As if my words had magically summoned them, Reapers suddenly surrounded us, erupting out of the stacks like a swarm of killer bees. Black-robed figures darted here, there, everywhere. In front of me, the Reaper I'd hit with the cart started to get onto his feet, so I rammed the metal cart into him again. He fell back to the floor.

The cart didn't hurt the Reaper, not really-but Vic did.

I shoved the cart out of the way, stepped forward, and brought the sword up, then down into the center of the Reaper's chest. Blood sprayed everywhere, the warm, wet, metallic stench of it stinging my nose. The man screamed once, and then he was still. Maybe I should have felt bad about stabbing him when he was on the ground, but I didn't because I knew that he would have done the same thing to me if he'd had the chance.

I whirled around. Oliver and Alexei stood back to back, their fists up and ready, as the Reapers crept closer and closer to them.

"Oh, look," one of the Reapers said in a low, throaty voice. "Two little warriors without a sword between them. This is going to be fun."

The Reaper who'd spoken was the leader, the one I'd first noticed. A man, judging by the deep voice, although something about his tone seemed a little . . . off. Like he was pitching his voice lower than it really was for some reason.

The leader laughed, and all the others joined in, the chuckling sounds full of sly, deadly malice. My heart sank because I realized that the Reaper was right. No matter how brave or skilled they were, without weapons, Oliver and Alexei would be easy targets, since all the Reapers carried long, curved swords. Sure, Oliver was a Spartan and didn't really need a weapon to fight, but he couldn't sidestep all those Reapers and all their swords-not for long.

I looked around, wondering how I could save them, and a gleam of glass caught my attention. My gaze locked onto the artifact case that Alexei had been looking at earlier-the one with two swords in it.

A Reaper broke away from the circle around Oliver and Alexei and rushed toward me. I waited until the figure was in range, then spun around him and ran toward the artifact case.

I skidded to a halt in front of the case. Something glimmered on the black velvet next to the swords, and I realized that it was the silver foil on the card that identified the weapons. The Swords of Ruslan. That was all I read before I raised Vic up high, then turned my head and brought the sword down as hard as I could. The glass shattered with a roar, and I felt pieces zip through the air, stinging my hands and arms, but I didn't care. The pain was small compared to what would happen to Oliver and Alexei if I didn't help them.

The two swords were crisscrossed over each other and sheathed in a double scabbard made of gray leather, so I was able to grab everything with one hand-

Images flooded my mind as soon as I touched the scabbard.

I wasn't surprised that my psychometry kicked in, but the intensity of the memories and feelings associated with the scabbard and swords took my breath away. In an instant, the library was gone, and I was standing in the middle of a fierce blizzard, frozen to the bone, screams ringing in my ears as a fight raged all around me.

Panicked, I turned this way and that, trying to push the memories away. I didn't have time for this, not when Oliver and Alexei were in danger and a Reaper was racing after me. But the faster I turned, the more the scene sharpened, as though I was zooming in on it with a camera. My gaze snagged on a man in the heart of the battle. It took me a moment to realize that he was fighting with two swords, probably the two swords I was holding right now. But there was something familiar about him, something about the way he moved, as though he was dancing with his enemies instead of fighting them- ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">