Dark Frost: A Mythos Academy Novel Page 8

  Logan frowned. “Yeah, but why would you guys want to watch me? It’s just weapons training. The same stuff we do in gym class every day.”

  “Because you killed Reapers at the coliseum yesterday,” the guy explained, his eyes bright with excitement. “How awesome was it? I mean, actually getting to fight them? I bet it was supercool.”

  His words unleashed a flood of memories, and for a moment, I was back at the coliseum. The image of the Reaper stabbing Carson flashed through my mind, while Daphne’s screams echoed in my head. And the blood—all the blood that had splashed everywhere. The coppery stench of it filled my nose. My stomach twisted, and my heart pounded as if it had all just happened a second ago.

  “Awesome?” I snapped. “It wasn’t awesome at all. It was hard and scary and dangerous, and I thought I was going to throw up the whole time. There was nothing awesome about it, and if you think there was, then you’re an idiot.”

  The guy’s mouth fell open, and he let out a huff. “Oh, please, you’re just jealous you didn’t kill as many Reapers as Logan did. I heard you just got one, while he killed, like, a dozen.”

  A dozen? Where was he getting that ridiculous number from? Logan had only killed two Reapers—not a dozen. Actually, Daphne had taken out the most Reapers, since the Valkyrie had killed three of them.

  “Is that little punk impugning your fighting skills?” Vic muttered. “Why don’t we go show him who’s boss, eh, Gwen?”

  I gripped Vic tighter, muffling the sound of his voice, but his words only made me that much angrier. So much so that I didn’t realize I’d taken a menacing step forward until I felt Logan’s hand on my arm.

  “Gypsy girl,” Logan said in a soft voice. “It’s all right. Calm down. He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

  I drew in a breath and let it out. “Well, he shouldn’t talk about things he doesn’t know anything about.”

  The guy gave me a haughty look that turned into an arrogant smirk when Logan told them they could stay and watch us train. I moved over to the archery target and started shooting arrows with a bow, while Kenzie and Oliver stood off to one side, calling out tips and suggestions.

  Maybe it was the fact that we had an audience or maybe it was because the first-year guy had pissed me off, but all my good mojo from earlier vanished, and I missed the target as many times as I hit it. Every miss made me angrier and that much more frustrated.

  “Geez,” I heard the guy say after one of my arrows flew past the target and weakly thumped off the wall. “How did she ever manage to kill a Reaper? She totally sucks.”

  The two girls murmured their agreement.

  “I don’t know,” one of the girls said. “There’s got to be something special about her, right? Isn’t she the one who survived the avalanche during the Winter Carnival? That weird Gypsy girl?”

  “Well, maybe she does better with the weather than she does with weapons. She certainly couldn’t do any worse.” The guy snickered at his lame joke.

  My hands curled around the bow, and I seriously considered stalking over to the bleachers and bashing him over the head with it.

  “Don’t let them get to you,” Oliver said in a quiet voice, handing me another arrow. “They don’t know what they’re talking about. They don’t know how great you’re doing, especially considering the fact that you haven’t been training your whole life like the rest of us.”

  I knew what Oliver said was true, but it didn’t quiet the snickers that rang up from the bleachers behind me—or soothe my anger. Still, I gritted my teeth and raised the bow up to my shoulder, determined to get through the rest of training time as quickly as possible. I lined up my shot and let the bowstring go.

  Another shot, another miss. Behind me, the snickers grew even louder, seeming to echo all the way up to the top of the rafters and back down again.

  I sighed. I wasn’t psychic, not like Grandma Frost, but I had a feeling it was going to be that kind of day.

  After the humilation of weapons training was finally over, I left the gym and stepped outside. The main upper quad was the center of Mythos Academy and featured the five buildings where the students spent most of their time—English-history, math-science, the gym, the dining hall, and the Library of Antiquities. Each one of the buildings sat at a different edge of the quad, reminding me of the points of a star.

  From a distance, the structures all looked old and pretentious with their dark gray stone and tall, slender windows. But if you took a closer look, you’d notice how the heavy vines of ivy clutched at the doors and windows like green, bony fingers, while balconies, towers, and parapets bristled out like sword points from the sides and tops of the structures. The sharp angles glittered in the winter sun, and it always seemed to me like the towers were stretching up to stab the sky.

  And then there were the statues.

  Gryphons, gargoyles, dragons, a Minotaur, chimeras, and dozens of other mythological creatures covered every single one of the buildings from top to bottom. A claw here, a pair of fangs there, teeth that were longer than my fingers. The sinister statues were lifelike replicas of the creatures they represented, right down to depicting all the ways the real things could tear you to pieces. But what made them especially creepy to me was the fact that the statues’ open, lidless eyes always seemed to track my movements, like there was something lurking underneath the stone just waiting to break free and gobble me up. No matter where I went on the quad or how fast I walked, I could never get away from the creatures’ cold, fixed gazes.

  But today, the statues weren’t the only ones watching me.

  I’d thought my ordeal would be over after weapons training, but to my surprise, it continued all day long. Ever since I’d started going to Mythos, I’d been pretty much invisible to the other students, since I wasn’t as rich, pretty, powerful, and popular as everyone else seemed to be. If the other kids even noticed me at all, it was only because they knew me as Gwen Frost, the Gypsy girl who touched stuff and saw things. Well, that, or they wanted me to find something that was missing, like their phone, laptop, or a six-pack of beer they’d smuggled into their dorm room.

  But today, it was completely different.

  In between every one of my classes, all the other kids on the quad turned their heads to stare at me, like I was some kind of circus freak they’d gathered to see. The bearded lady they couldn’t quit staring at. I kept my head down and hurried on to my next class, as if that would somehow protect me from all the curious looks.

  But things weren’t any better inside than they were out. In every one of my classes, the other kids looked at me and whispered to each other behind their hands, or worse, they texted their thoughts across the room, until everyone’s phone lit up with the news. Apparently, word had gotten around that I’d been at the Crius Coliseum yesterday and that I’d killed a Reaper. Some of the kids gave me small, encouraging smiles, but just as many snorted, shook their heads, and rolled their eyes in disbelief. Like I’d just been lucky I’d killed a Reaper. Maybe I had, but that didn’t give them the right to judge or make fun of me.

  The rumors going around campus were just absurd. Everything from the Reapers robbing the coliseum to hock the gold and jewels on the artifacts, to them murdering everyone inside the museum, to Logan’s going into full-on battle mode, killing two dozen Reapers, and scaring the others so much that they’d all run away crying. Nobody seemed to care what had really happened. The more outrageous the story was, the faster it got sent from one phone to the next.

  By the time lunch rolled around, I’d had enough of the furtive looks and snarky whispers. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d enjoyed being invisible until today.

  “I wish everyone would quit staring at us,” I grumbled. “I don’t see what the big deal is. Don’t they know that we just got lucky?”

  “I think most of them know we were lucky,” Carson said. “But almost everyone at Mythos has lost someone to the Reapers. For you, Logan, and Daphne to actually kill some of them in batt
le, well, it makes the kids who’ve lost their parents and friends feel a little better, you know? Like we were actually able to get the upper hand on the Reapers for once. Like we were able to strike back a little for all of them.”

  “Even though Samson and the others kids still died yesterday?” I asked.

  The band geek shrugged. He didn’t have an answer for that anymore than I did.

  I sighed and stabbed my fork into the delicate china bowl on the table in front of me. I wasn’t sure exactly what was in the bowl. Oh, there was some elaborately shaped pasta floating around in there and what looked like seared steak mixed with a spicy marinara sauce, but you could never really tell at Mythos. Here, the mystery meat was just as likely to be escargot as anything else.

  Yep, escargot. That’s what the dining hall served for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, along with things like liver, veal, and lobster. Seriously, liver for breakfast. Yucko. But the academy chefs would be more than happy to whip up a liver-and-onions omelet flavored with goat cheese and some obscure, bizarre spices if that’s how you wanted to start your day. I don’t know why the Powers That Were didn’t lighten up and serve some regular food—or have it catered in. Some days, I would have happily done extra homework just to have a triple chocolate milkshake from the Pork Pit restaurant.

  Given the slim pickings and lack of normal food on the lunch line, I usually opted for some sort of grilled chicken salad. It was kind of hard to mess up raw vegetables, but the chefs at Mythos did their very best, cutting the carrots, lettuce, and tomatoes into froufrou shapes and marinating them in weird sauces. Today, I’d wanted something warm, given the January cold outside, so I’d opted for the pasta. Now, I was regretting my decision.

  I pushed the bowl away and reached for the dessert I’d grabbed—chocolate mousse, one of my favorites. At least, I thought it was chocolate mousse. The parfait glass was so small there was only about a spoonful of dessert actually inside it. The Powers That Were totally skimped on portion size when it came to the sweet stuff.

  I supposed I should be grateful that a chef hadn’t come over and tried to flambé the mousse. For some reason, the chefs at Mythos liked to play with fire, and there was always at least one dessert on the menu that needed to be blowtorched before you were allowed to eat it. The chefs here so could have learned a thing or two from Grandma Frost when it came to baking.

  A series of high-pitched giggles caught my ear, and I looked for the source of the sound. Like everything else at Mythos, the dining hall was totally pretentious, and there were more suits of armor in here than there had been in the entire Crius Coliseum. The metal knights clutched their gleaming swords and battle-axes, standing guard against the walls, right under the oil paintings that showed all sorts of mythological feasts.

  Round tables covered with fine white linens, dainty dishes, platinum silverware, and crystal vases full of fresh narcissus flowers filled the dining hall, which looked more like a five-star restaurant than a school cafeteria. Adding to the atmosphere was the open-air indoor garden that took up the center of the room. Olive, almond, and orange trees towered up out of the black soil, while a series of grape vines twisted over and through them all. Here and there, statues of wine, food, and harvest gods like Dionysus and Demeter peeped out from behind the trees, their stone eyes fixed on the students scarfing down their expensive entrees.

  The giggles sounded again, and this time, I was able to pinpoint the origin—the table where Logan was sitting. A girl, one of the first-year students who’d been in the gym this morning, hovered by the table the Spartan was sharing with Kenzie and Oliver. The girl said something to Logan, then handed him a pen and a piece of paper. The Spartan shifted in his chair, looking uncomfortable, but Kenzie and Oliver had their hands over their mouths, like they were about three seconds away from laughing.

  “Did Logan just give that girl an autograph?” Daphne asked, drumming her fingers on top of the table and making pink sparks of magic shoot out everywhere.

  Carson hesitated. “That’s what it looks like.”

  The girl gave Logan another smile before giggling again and rushing off. She hurried over to the table where her own friends were sitting and showed them the piece of paper. This time, they all erupted in a fit of giggles.

  “Geez,” I muttered. “It’s a wonder they all don’t just go over there, take off their shirts, and ask him to sign their bras.”

  Daphne raised an eyebrow. “Jealous, much?”

  I sank a little lower in my chair. “Not jealous. Well, not exactly. It’s not like I have any claim on Logan. We haven’t talked, you know, about anything.”

  I’d wanted to talk to the Spartan this morning during weapons training, but Kenzie and Oliver had shown up before I’d had the chance. Afterward, Logan had rushed out of the gym, saying he needed to go back to his dorm room before classes started. I got the feeling Logan was trying to avoid me as much as possible. I wondered if it had anything to do with what Grandma Frost had said to him yesterday—about how something hadn’t been his fault in the past and wasn’t going to be his fault in the future, either.

  The Valkyrie raised her eyebrow. “Oh, suck it up, Gwen. The Spartan gave you a diamond necklace for Christmas. I’d say that’s a pretty good indication he likes you. And he did fight by your side in the coliseum.”

  I sighed. “I know, I know. I just wish—I just wish I knew where things stood between the two of us. Once and for all.”

  I watched as another girl from the table of first-year students got up, walked over to Logan, and got him to give her an autograph as well. I rolled my eyes.

  “You’d at least think they’d ask us all for autographs,” I muttered. “We were there, too, and you saved Carson’s life.”

  “Something I will be forever grateful for,” Carson said, squeezing Daphne’s hand.

  Instead of being pleased by the band geek’s soft, sweet words, something uncertain flashed in Daphne’s eyes. After a moment, she slipped her hand out of his.

  “I just remembered I need to run over to the library and get a reference book for my next class,” Daphne said. “See you guys later.”

  The Valkyrie got to her feet, grabbed her Dooney & Bourke purse, and stalked out of the dining hall, leaving pink sparks of magic flashing in her wake.

  “What’s wrong with her?” I asked.

  Carson shrugged his lean shoulders. He didn’t know either. Daphne could be quick to anger, and she definitely had a temper, but she’d never just gotten up and walked away before—especially when she didn’t seem to be mad about anything. Strange.

  More giggles sounded, and my fingers tightened around my fork as yet a third girl approached Logan.

  I wasn’t the only one who noticed the Spartan’s new fan club. A few tables over from where Carson and I sat, Savannah glared at Logan. Savannah was sitting with Talia Pizarro and Vivian Holler, and I remembered what Daphne had said about the three of them being friends.

  I actually knew Talia since we had gym class together and often ended up as sparring partners. Sometimes she dropped by when I was doing my early morning weapons training with the Spartans since she was dating Kenzie. Talia was tall and lithe with ebony skin and black hair that was cropped into a cute pixie cut. She was talking and gesturing about something, but Savannah wasn’t paying attention to her. Neither was Vivian, who had her head bent down over a thick book and was fiddling with a piece of her frizzy auburn hair. The first day back at school, and she was doing homework already? Even I wasn’t that dedicated—or geeky.

  Savannah must have felt me staring because the Amazon turned her head and looked in my direction. Our gazes locked across the dining hall.

  Once again, I thought I saw a burning flash of red in her eyes—Reaper red, as I’d come to think of it.

  An uneasy feeling slithered up my spine. I’d only seen that crimson spark a few times before and always in the eyes of Reapers or the creatures they trained. Could Savannah—was it possible—could Savannah be a Reape
r?

  Maybe even the Reaper girl? Loki’s Champion?

  I don’t know where the strange thoughts came from, but they popped into my head, and I couldn’t push them away. It was like someone was pounding the ideas into my skull with a hammer. My head started to ache, and my heart began to burn with anger at the thought of the Reaper girl and how she’d killed my mom. My hand tightened around my fork again, and I pictured myself shoving it into Savannah’s chest. I didn’t really consider myself to be a violent person, but that thought made me happy in a way that nothing else had in a long, long time—

  “Gwen?” Carson asked. “Are you okay? You have this really angry look on your face right now. Did I do something to upset you?”

  His soft, worried voice penetrated my anger. I dropped my eyes from Savannah and shook my head. Almost immediately, the rage I’d been feeling vanished, although my head kept aching, like I was getting a migraine. Great. Just what I needed.

  I suppose it served me right for freaking out and being totally paranoid. Savannah wasn’t a Reaper. No way. She’d been there at the coliseum with Vivian yesterday, and she’d been attacked just like all the other kids. Savannah was a victim, just like everyone else.

  Savannah’s mouth flattened out into a hard, thin line, and she said something to Talia. Soon, the other Amazon was glaring at me, too. Even Vivian shot me dark looks every time she flipped a page in her book, although her golden gaze was a little less hostile than the others’ were.

  I sighed and turned away from them. Yeah, I knew Savannah blamed me for Logan’s breaking up with her, and I had plenty of guilt over that, but the other Amazon really needed to give it a rest with the dirty looks. It wasn’t like I’d done it on purpose. Besides, I didn’t even know what was going on with Logan and me, if we were a couple or just friends or something in between. The uncertainty was making me crazy—so crazy that I was imagining that Savannah was a Reaper. Geez. Get a grip, Gwen.