Spartan Destiny

by Estep, Jennifer

  “Okay. We all ended up mock-killing one another, except for Takeda. He was the only one who survived, along with Nyx.”

  Aunt Rachel’s eyes softened at the mention of the Samurai. When I had first joined the Midgard, the two of them hadn’t liked each other, but they’d slowly grown closer over the past few months. I was hoping that Takeda would ask her out soon. Aunt Rachel deserved some happiness after everything my parents had put her through.

  While Aunt Rachel finished cooking, I told her about the training mission and laid out the plates, glasses, silverware, and napkins. Ten minutes later, we sat down to a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs, hash browns, Canadian bacon, and brioche French toast drizzled with homemade chocolate sauce, topped with fresh raspberries, and dusted with powdered sugar.

  Sweet treats were my favorites, so I immediately dived into the French toast. Aunt Rachel was a terrific chef, and the toast was crunchy on the outside but still light and fluffy on the inside. Plus, the chocolate sauce, raspberries, and powdered sugar were the perfect combination of richness, tartness, and sweetness. I washed everything down with some kiwi-mango juice.

  “Mmm-mmm-mmm!” I said between bites. “I love French toast. It’s like having dessert for breakfast.”

  Aunt Rachel grinned. “I aim to please.”

  While we ate, we talked some more about the training mission, along with her job in the dining hall.

  “We’re supposed to get a shipment of fresh berries later this week,” Aunt Rachel said. “So I’ll make fruit crumbles for dessert. Blackberry, raspberry, maybe even peach if those arrive too.”

  I loved crumbles with their warm fruit and sweet, crunchy topping even more than French toast. Plus, crumbles were almost always served with vanilla-bean ice cream, which meant it was like eating two desserts in one.

  “Well, if you’re making crumbles, then I’ll be sure to come by the dining hall and try each and every flavor.”

  “With extra scoops of ice cream on them?” she teased.

  I grinned. “You know me too well.”

  We finished our breakfast, and I helped Aunt Rachel clear the table, wash the dishes, and put away the leftovers. Then I grabbed Babs and my messenger bag and left the cottage.

  I walked across campus and climbed up the hill to the main quad. Unlike last night, when it had been dark and deserted, students packed the area on this bright, sunny morning. All the kids were clutching their phones in one hand and their coffees in the other, and everyone was talking, laughing, texting, and sharing the latest news and gossip.

  I scanned the quad, searching for my friends, but I had gotten here earlier than usual, and I didn’t see them. So I headed toward the English-history building for myth-history, my first class of the day.

  As I walked along the path, the other kids stepped back out of my way. Not because they were being nice but because they didn’t want to get close to me, Rory Forseti, the daughter of notorious Reaper assassins. Everyone knew that my parents had been Reapers, so I wasn’t exactly one of the popular kids. Quite the opposite. The other students used to say horrible things about my parents and me whenever I walked across the quad, but that had largely died down over the past few weeks, although several kids still glared at me with anger and suspicion.

  “Hey, Rory,” a voice called out.

  I glanced to my right to find a girl with sleek blond hair and hazel eyes standing with a group of Valkyries, all of whom were staring at me. The blond Valkyrie lifted her hand and waved, causing gold sparks of magic to flash in the air all around her.

  “Hey, Kylie.” I nodded back at her and walked on.

  Kylie Midas was a second-year student like me and one of the most popular girls at the academy. She used to hate me, since she’d thought my parents had killed some of her friends, but her attitude had changed a few weeks ago, after I saved her from being torn to pieces by a Serket basilisk during a field trip to the Idun Estate.

  Ever since then, Kylie had gone out of her way to be polite whenever she saw me on the quad or in the dining hall, and the other students had taken notice and quit hassling me so much. I was grateful to her for that, although I didn’t know that we would ever truly be friends, not after all the awful things she had said about my parents and me over the past year. But Kylie was making an effort to be nice, so I did the same.

  I reached the English-history building, climbed the steps, went inside, and walked into one of the classrooms. I was the first student here, but the door in the back of the room was open, so I headed in that direction.

  The door led into an office that reminded me of a smaller version of the Library of Antiquities. Floor-to-ceiling shelves covered two of the walls, each one bristling with everything from old books, to silver swords and jeweled daggers, to stone statues and glass orbs. An antique wooden desk spread across the back of the room, although it was covered with haphazard stacks of papers, mounds of paper clips, and balls of rubber bands, instead of books, weapons, and artifacts.

  A woman wearing silver glasses and a gray pantsuit was perched behind the desk, typing on a laptop. She was in her sixties and quite pretty, with black eyes and amber skin. Streaks of gray glinted in her short black hair, while dark purple gloss covered her lips. Her fingers danced across the keyboard almost as fast as Mateo’s did, and she had a youthful, energetic vibe, as if she was ready to leap up and run a marathon or scale a mountain on a moment’s notice.

  I knocked on the open office door. “Hey, Professor.”

  Professor Dalaja Idun looked up from her laptop and smiled. “Rory! Come in. How is my favorite student today?”

  I stepped into the office. “Good. I just wanted to return the research books that you loaned me.”

  I pulled the thick, heavy volumes out of my bag. I started to set the books on the corner of the desk, but it was cluttered with papers, pens, and coffee mugs, so I placed them on the empty chair in front of the desk instead.

  Dalaja glanced at the books, then focused on me again. “Did you find anything useful? Any references to the red narcissus seeds, the Chloris boxes, or the Narcissus Heart?”

  “Unfortunately not.”

  Professor Dalaja was the newest member of the Midgard. She owned the Idun Estate, where her family had safeguarded mythological artifacts for years. A few weeks ago, Covington and Drake had kidnapped the professor from this office and taken her to the estate, where they had stolen a red Chloris box full of seeds. Dalaja knew how dangerous the red narcissus seeds were, and she had been helping the Midgard research ways to combat them, as well as hunting for more Chloris boxes.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. “I was hoping you would find something in the books that I had overlooked. But I might have some good news.”

  “Really? What?”

  “I’ve been looking at that list of artifacts that your friend Daphne Cruz compiled, and I might have a lead on another Chloris box,” she said. “I need to call some folks and confirm a few things, but I should have more information for Takeda and everyone else later today.”

  Professor Dalaja was an artifacts expert, so if anyone could track down another Chloris box, it would be her. Still, her words made my stomach churn with worry and dread.

  “Do you think this one also contains narcissus seeds? Like the red box did?”

  She shook her head. “There’s no way to know for sure until we open the box. At this point, I’m not even certain that it is a Chloris box.”

  Dalaja had been studying the Chloris boxes for years, but despite her research, even she didn’t know exactly how many more boxes might be out there or what seeds or other artifacts they might contain.

  “I’ve never heard of this particular Chloris box before,” she continued. “I just have a clue to its possible location. But I’ll know more later, and then I’ll brief Takeda and everyone else.”

  I nodded, but worry and dread still churned in my stomach. The very last thing we needed was for Covington to get his hands on another box. He alre
ady had the Chloris Amulet, which let him control his stockpile of red narcissus seeds, as well as anyone infected with their venom. We didn’t know exactly how Covington planned to use the seeds to turn people into Reapers, but we couldn’t afford to let him obtain any more seeds or boxes. That would only make him even more powerful and dangerous.

  Professor Dalaja must have sensed my troubled thoughts, because she got up, walked around the desk, reached out, and squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t worry, Rory. The red narcissus seeds might be powerful, but they’re not nearly as dangerous as the Narcissus Heart. As long as the Heart is locked away in the Bunker, we can keep Covington in check.”

  “Of course.” I forced myself to smile at her. “You’re right. As long as we have the Heart, everything will be okay.”

  She smiled and squeezed my shoulder again, then gestured at the piles of papers on her desk. “I’ll keep researching, and I’ll figure out if this artifact really is a Chloris box. But right now, I have class, and so do you.”

  I nodded, left the office, and took my seat in the classroom. The other students trickled in, still talking, laughing, texting, and drinking coffee. When the bell rang, Professor Dalaja stepped into the classroom as well, called out a greeting, and started her lecture.

  Dalaja was a wonderful, enthusiastic storyteller who really made all the old myths, legends, stories, and battles come to life. Today was no exception, but I had a hard time concentrating on her myth-history lesson. Instead, I kept thinking about this new box she had mentioned. If it really was a Chloris box, then we had to get to it before Covington did. We just had to.

  I also hoped that last night’s training mission wasn’t a sign of things to come—and that my friends and I wouldn’t end up dying for real the next time we faced the real Reapers.

  * * *

  Despite my worries, the day passed by quickly, and the last bell rang, signaling that classes were finished. I headed home to the cottage to eat dinner, do my homework, and hang out with Aunt Rachel for a while.

  Aunt Rachel needed to work on the dining-hall menus, but she promised to meet me in the Bunker later for the Midgard’s daily briefing. I grabbed Babs and my bag and headed back across campus to the Library of Antiquities.

  Just like the quad earlier today, the library was absolutely packed with students. The more industrious kids were sitting at the study tables, hunched over their books and laptops, and tackling their homework. Other students were taking a break and standing in line at the coffee cart, waiting to get mochas, lattes, and sweet pastries to jump-start their own studying. The less industrious kids were lounging around on the chairs and couches that flanked the fireplace, talking, laughing, and texting with their friends, while basking in the warmth from the flames crackling behind the iron grates.

  I glanced around the first floor. Librarians cataloging books behind the checkout counter, some kids studying, others hanging out, couples sneaking away from their friends and heading into the shadowy stacks to steal a kiss or two from their latest hookup. Everything was perfectly normal, but my stomach twisted all the same. I wouldn’t—couldn’t—fully relax until we stopped Covington and Drake for good.

  No one paid any attention to me as I headed into the stairwell and climbed up to the second floor. I nodded at Sigyn’s statue, then opened the secret bookcase entrance to the elevator and rode it down to the Bunker.

  I stepped into the briefing room. I was thirty minutes early for our regular daily meeting, so I was the only one here, but I didn’t mind the quiet. Besides, I had some things that I wanted to take care of before the others arrived. So I put my bag on my desk and gave my potted winterbloom a drink of water. Then I headed back into the artifact shelves.

  I walked up and down each aisle, staring at the artifacts, making sure that everything was in its proper place and that nothing was missing. I did this same check every single time I came to the Bunker. Yeah, maybe it was hypocritical of me, since I was stealing artifacts and replacing them with fakes, but making sure that the other items were still secure made me feel like I was doing something useful, instead of just sitting around and waiting for Covington and Drake to strike again.

  Everything was in its proper place, and I ended up standing in front of the black Chloris box sitting on the shelf all by itself.

  A polished jet box covered with silver vines and thorns and heart-shaped ruby flowers. Staring at the box gave me the same sick feeling it always did. A feeling that was amplified today, since Professor Dalaja might have found another Chloris box.

  How many boxes were out there? And how many red narcissus seeds did they contain? How many boxes and seeds was Covington going to steal before he attacked us? How many innocent people was he going to hurt and kill? And how could we possibly stop him?

  “Thinking about replacing the box with a fake?” a voice asked.

  Startled, I whirled around, but no one was standing behind me. A second later, I realized that Babs was the one who had spoken, since she was in her scabbard, which was attached to my belt. The sword had been napping all day, as was her custom during my classes, and I had forgotten to take her off before I’d come back here.

  I pulled the sword out of her scabbard and raised her up so that I could see her face. “What are you talking about?”

  Babs arched her one eyebrow. “I might be a mostly inanimate object, but I’m not stupid, Rory. I know that you’ve been replacing some of the artifacts with fakes.”

  She arched her eyebrow a little higher, daring me to deny it, but of course, I couldn’t.

  I sighed. “How did you figure it out? I never brought you back here when I was swapping out anything.”

  “No, you didn’t,” she replied in a hurt voice. “But you put the artifacts in your messenger bag to sneak them out of the Bunker. I’ve seen you take more than one artifact out of your bag in your bedroom late at night when you thought I was sleeping or just chatting away and not paying attention to what you were doing. I don’t talk all the time, you know. And even when I do talk, I still notice a lot more than people think I do.”

  The sword sniffed, punctuating her righteous indignation. I opened my mouth to say that of course she didn’t talk all the time, but apparently, she wanted to talk right now, because she cut me off before I could get started.

  “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not judging you for stealing the artifacts and replacing them with fakes. Not at all. I understand why you’re doing it, and I think it’s a smart thing to do.”

  Once again, I opened my mouth to chime in, and once again, she cut me off and kept right on talking.

  “However, I have to say that I’m quite upset that you didn’t include me in your scheme. Quite, quite upset.”

  Babs finally stopped speaking long enough to take a breath, and I jumped in before she could cut me off for a third time.

  “Why are you so upset?” I asked. “I certainly wasn’t going to swap you out for another sword. You’re my sword. More important, you’re my friend. I would never do that to you.”

  Babs rolled her green eye. “Well, obviously, you weren’t going to swap me out for another sword. Even if you could somehow make a weapon that captured half of my charm, wit, and beauty, everyone would still realize that it was a fake. Besides, replacing me would just be silly. Everyone knows that all other swords are inferior to me.”

  I opened my mouth to agree with her, but she cut me off yet again.

  “I’m not upset that you didn’t include me in your artifact swap. I’m hurt that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me what you were doing. After all, you’re my warrior, and I’m your sword. I thought we were partners, Rory, in this battle and all others.”

  Babs gave me a reproachful look, even as she sniffled and blinked back the tear gleaming in her green eye, as though she was trying not to cry. Seeing how upset she was made my own heart squeeze tight with guilt. I hadn’t meant to, but I really had hurt her feelings, which made me feel all kinds of awful in return.

  I sni
ffled and blinked away the hot tears pricking my own eyes. “I’m sorry. Really, I am. But I didn’t want anyone to know what I was doing. I didn’t want you, my friends, or anyone else to tell me that I was being silly and paranoid. To say that the artifacts are perfectly safe in the Bunker and that I’m worrying and stealing them for no reason.”

  “Why would you think I would ever tell you that?”

  I looked at her. “Why wouldn’t you tell me that? Everyone else probably would.”

  “And I know better than anyone else that you have good reason to worry. I was cursed, remember? For years and years and years. I begged warriors not to even think about picking me up, but they always ignored me. They always picked me up, and they always died, despite my warnings,” Babs said. “At least, until you came along and broke my curse.”

  She paused, and her eye dimmed, as though she was thinking about all the warriors who had died wielding her. After a moment, she cleared her throat and focused on me again. “I know what it’s like to be absolutely certain about something and not have anyone believe you. I would never do that to you, Rory. Never.”

  I hadn’t thought about it from her point of view, but Babs was right. She had gone through something similar, but it had been far worse for her, since she had suffered through her curse for years, with all of her warriors dying and seemingly no end in sight to all that pain, suffering, heartbreak, and misery.

  “I’m sorry,” I repeated. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or leave you out. You’re right. I should have trusted you. I just thought it would be better if no one knew what I was doing with the artifacts. That way, no one else would get into trouble if Takeda or Linus Quinn ever found out.”

  Babs sniffed again, not quite accepting my apology.

  “I really am sorry,” I said.

  The sword sniffed a third time, then gave me a stern look. “You’re my warrior, and I’m your sword,” she repeated. “We’re a team. Your secrets are my secrets, and your trouble is my trouble, and vice versa, in this battle and all others. Understand?”