Beep!
Beep-beep!
Beep-beep-beep!
The metal canister at my feet emitted a series of high-pitched noises, and a light on the top blinked an ominous red. I forgot about trying to grab the dagger.
“Move!” I yelled, trying to shove Zoe and Ian back and shield them with my body at the same time—
The canister exploded.
Chapter Six
I braced myself, expecting a massive, fiery explosion, but the metal canister merely cracked open, like someone had dropped an egg on the floor. But there was far more than just a runny yolk inside. Dark red smoke boiled up out of the canister, quickly engulfing Zoe, Ian, and me.
The smoke forced its way up my nose and then slithered down my throat, making me feel like I had swallowed a mouthful of sharp, jagged glass. It also burned, scratched, and stabbed into my eyes, and tears welled up and streaked down my face, trying to combat the horrible sensations.
Smoke kept spewing out of the canister, ballooning up higher and thicker all the while. In an instant, I couldn’t see anything around me, not even Zoe and Ian, although I could hear them choking and coughing, just like I was.
“Rory!” Takeda’s voice rang in my ear. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“Smoke…bomb…” I rasped, although I had no idea if he could hear me over Zoe and Ian’s violent coughing.
“Rory!” another voice called out. “Down here!”
I blinked away a fresh wave of tears and realized that Babs was the one who was speaking. I might have lost Fafnir’s Dagger, but I was still clutching the sword in my right hand. Even better, the runes carved into Babs’s blade, the ones that spelled out Devotion is strength, were glowing a bright silver, as was Freya’s Bracelet on my right wrist.
The combined glows were enough to cut through the worst of the thick red clouds, and I dropped to my knees and crawled along the floor, searching for the canister. I had to get it—and the foul smoke—away from my friends.
I sliced Babs back and forth through the smoke, using her glow to find the canister. There it was. I grabbed the metal and grunted with pain as the open edges sliced deep into my palm. But my healing magic kicked in, and the cool, soothing power lessened the sting of my injury, as well as the burning, scratching, and stabbing sensations in my eyes, nose, and throat.
I tightened my grip on the canister, which was still spewing smoke, and hurled it as far away as I could. The metal sailed through the air, disappearing from sight, although I heard it clatter against the rotunda floor in the distance. The canister took the worst of the smoke with it, and the red clouds slowly dissipated.
I got to my feet and sliced Babs through the air again, using her blade to drive away the rest of the smoke. Zoe and Ian were standing a few feet away, both of them still coughing and waving their hands around, also trying to banish the last of the smoke. Tears were streaming down their faces, but the two of them seemed to be okay—
Scrape.
I whirled around at the sound. I expected another canister to land at my feet and crack open, but it was much, much worse than that.
Two people stood in front of me.
One of them was a tall, muscled guy a few years older than me with blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and handsome features that were eerily similar to Ian’s. He was wearing a black Reaper cloak and holding a sword. Drake Hunter, Ian’s traitorous brother.
The other person was a short, lean, middle-aged man with brown hair, a brown goatee, hazel eyes, and ruddy skin. He was wearing a red cloak, denoting his status as the leader of the Reapers. Covington, the man who’d murdered my parents.
My heart sank. How could this possibly get any worse?
I should have known better than to even think the words. Covington grinned and raised his arm. My heart sank even lower.
He was clutching Fafnir’s Dagger in his hand.
* * *
My heart sank lower still, even as I whipped up Babs into an attack position.
Behind me, Zoe and Ian were still coughing. They didn’t have my healing magic, so the red smoke had affected them far worse than me. I moved in front of my friends, putting Babs and myself between them and the Reapers.
“Takeda,” I rasped in a low, urgent voice. “Covington and Drake are here. Repeat. Covington and Drake are in the rotunda.”
“We’re on our way!” This time, Aunt Rachel’s voice boomed in my ear. “Hold on, Rory!”
A second later, Mateo’s voice sounded in my ear as well. “I finally fixed the monitors! I see the Reapers on the security cameras! Professor Dalaja and I are leaving the van right now!”
My friends kept yelling and shouting, both at one another and at me, their voices crackling through my earbud, but I tuned them out. I needed to focus on the Reapers if I wanted to keep Zoe and Ian safe.
I expected Drake to charge forward and attack me, but instead, he and Covington held their positions, as though they were waiting for something to happen, although I had no idea what it might be. I did the same, and the rotunda was silent, except for Zoe’s and Ian’s continued coughs, but even those were slowly dying down.
I glanced down the other hallways, expecting to see more Reapers heading in this direction, but I didn’t spot anyone else. Covington and Drake seemed to have come here alone. I also looked for the museum guards, but I didn’t spot them either. The Reapers must have done something to the guards, maybe dosed them with a smoke bomb too.
“Hello, Rory,” Covington purred. “So lovely to see you again. And Ms. Wayland and Mr. Hunter as well.”
Zoe and Ian staggered up beside me. Zoe was now holding one of her electrodaggers, while Ian was clutching his ax.
“Takeda is on his way here right now with a dozen Protectorate guards,” I snarled. “You won’t get away this time.”
It was a total lie, since the only guards here were the three who patrolled the museum, but Covington didn’t need to know that. Besides, there were still more of us than there were of them. This was the first time in weeks that we’d even seen the Reapers, much less had a chance to capture them, and I wasn’t going to waste it.
Covington and Drake looked at each other. Then they both started laughing.
Their loud, hearty chuckles rang throughout the rotunda, bouncing off the walls and echoing back to me. Each sharp guffaw was like a slap across my face. Anger roared through me, burning through my veins like the red smoke had scalded my eyes, but I didn’t do the reckless thing and charge at them. No, I would wait for Takeda and the others, and we would surround and take down the Reapers together.
Covington and Drake quit laughing and focused on me again.
“Actually, I think we will get away yet again, especially now that I have this.” Covington waggled Fafnir’s Dagger at me. “Thank you ever so much for bringing it down here. It saved me the trouble of going upstairs and getting it myself.”
I cursed myself for dropping the dagger. Sure, my fingers had gone numb from Ian’s accidental blow, but I was a Spartan, and I should have held on to the artifact. But what was done was done, and all I could do now was hope that we could still capture the Reapers.
Covington turned the dagger this way and that, admiring how the ruby scales and the bronze wiring gleamed in the dim light. “I’ve had my eye on Fafnir’s Dagger for a long time. I was quite pleased to learn that it had ended up here at the Cormac Museum and that the curators had put it on display. And now here we all are again, just like we were a few months ago during the Fall Costume Ball. I have the strangest sense of déjà vu.”
Since it didn’t seem like Covington and Drake were going to attack us, I looked past them again at the other hallways branching off from the rotunda. To my right, I saw Takeda and Aunt Rachel creeping in this direction. To my left, I spotted Mateo and Professor Dalaja doing the same thing. All of them were holding weapons, and we had the two Reapers trapped between us.
My heart lifted. We were going to end this—finally, finally end this�
��and put Covington and Drake in prison where they belonged.
Drake spied Takeda and Aunt Rachel, and he let out a low, angry growl, snapped up his sword, and pivoted in their direction. Covington also noticed Takeda and Aunt Rachel, as well as Mateo and Professor Dalaja, but he smiled at me again. He didn’t look concerned at all, which made my stomach twist with worry. What was he plotting?
My friends stepped into the rotunda, and Takeda brandished his katana at the Reapers.
“You’re surrounded,” Takeda said. “Lay down your weapons and surrender.”
Covington stared at Takeda for a moment, then dismissed the other man’s threat as unimportant and focused on me again. “Even if Takeda did have a dozen Protectorate guards lurking around like you claimed, it still wouldn’t matter. Not as long as I have this.” He waggled Fafnir’s Dagger at me again. “Would you like to see what it can summon? I certainly would.”
“No! Stop—”
I started forward, but Covington was a Roman and much, much faster than me. He snapped up the dagger, then brought it down and slashed it across twice, almost like he was writing a giant F in the air. Black smoke dripped out of the tip of the dagger and slithered across the floor, driving me back toward my friends. The smoke boiled up and quickly congealed into a monstrous creature.
The Fafnir dragon was only about three feet tall, making it shorter and lower to the ground than a Fenrir wolf or a Nemean prowler. Its long snout, stocky body, and stubby legs reminded me of a lizard’s, only much bigger, thicker, and far more powerful. Triangular ruby-red scales rimmed with black and covered with sharp ridges encased the dragon from the tip of its snout all the way to the end of its long, thick tail, which featured several black spikes. Smaller black spikes were also set into its feet, instead of more traditional claws, and black bull’s horns sprouted from its forehead and curved down and outward, framing its face and its midnight-black eyes. And since it was a dragon, two large, leathery red wings were attached to its back. They too were rimmed with black, just like its scales.
The Fafnir dragon was a frightening mishmash of other creatures, like Typhon chimeras and Serket basilisks were, but the most worrisome part was its scales. The ruby-red plates looked rock-hard and covered its stomach, its sides, and all the other usual weak spots.
I had no idea how to get through those scales, much less actually kill the monster, but I pushed my worries aside. I would find a way to slay the dragon. Spartans always did. Ours were called killer instincts for a reason.
The Fafnir dragon looked at me and flicked its long, forked black tongue out of its mouth, as if it was tasting all the scents in the air. Then the creature yawned, revealing the sharp, jagged teeth in its hideous snout, as if it was bored by the prospect of killing and eating me. A few red-hot sparks flew out of the dragon’s mouth and landed on the floor, scorching the white marble. As if all those teeth weren’t deadly enough, it could also breathe fire. Of course it could. Because this situation couldn’t get any worse than it already was.
My friends all froze, holding their positions, as horrified and disgusted by the dragon as I was. Covington stared at me again, but he didn’t order the monster to attack.
“What are you waiting for?” I snarled. “Going to ask me to join you and become a Reaper again? Don’t waste your breath.”
“No. As you said, asking politely would be a waste of breath.” He gave me a thin, knowing smile. “But you’ll be a Reaper soon enough, Rory. Mark my words.”
I opened my mouth to snipe back at him, but once again, the evil librarian was too quick for me. He waved the dagger in his hand, first at the dragon, then at my friends.
“Kill them,” Covington commanded.
Before I could shout a warning, the dragon leaped across the floor, heading straight for Zoe and Ian.
Chapter Seven
The Fafnir dragon might look like an oversize lizard, but its powerful legs let it leap halfway across the rotunda in a single bound. The monster leaped again, this time going straight up. It snapped its wings open, hovering in the air for a moment, before shooting down at Zoe and Ian like an arrow streaking toward a target.
My friends’ eyes widened, and they both threw themselves to the side, out of the way of the dive-bombing dragon. Zoe and Ian hit the floor hard, but they both started rolling, going in opposite directions, trying to get as far away from the monster as possible. The dragon landed in the spot where they had been, and the sharp black spikes on its feet punched into the floor like it was made of paper instead of solid stone.
The dragon hissed, causing embers to spew out of its mouth and swirl through the air like red-hot snowflakes. Then it whirled around and turned its attention to Zoe, since she was the closest to it.
The Valkyrie scrambled to her feet, lurched back, and raised her electrodagger, but the blue-white sparks sizzling along the blade didn’t scare the dragon at all. It hissed again and hunkered down, getting ready to leap through the air and crash down right on top of her.
“Zoe!” Mateo screamed.
He ran forward, lifted the crossbow in his hand, and fired off a bolt. His aim was true, and he hit the dragon square in its snout, but the bolt bounced off the creature’s red scales and dropped harmlessly to the ground. The powerful projectile hadn’t so much as scratched the dragon’s armor.
The Fafnir dragon turned its murderous black gaze to Mateo. It flapped its wings, as though it was going to leap up into the air and dive-bomb the Roman for daring to attack it, but Ian didn’t give it a chance to strike. He charged forward, lifted his ax, and brought the weapon down on the dragon’s head, trying to kill it with that one blow.
Ian’s ax was a bit more effective than Mateo’s crossbow bolt, and it actually dug into the dragon’s scales—but that was all it did. The blade got stuck in the scales, instead of cleanly cutting through them. Ian grunted and managed to wrench his ax free, but the dragon whipped around and lashed out with its spiked tail, causing the Viking to lurch away from it.
Professor Dalaja was carrying a long staff, and she waded into the fight as well, swinging her weapon at the dragon and keeping it from attacking Zoe, Mateo, and Ian while they regrouped.
Since my friends had the dragon under control, at least for the moment, I turned back to Covington and Drake, determined to stop them. Takeda and Aunt Rachel had the same idea, and the three of us snapped up our weapons and closed in on the Reapers.
Covington saw us coming and started backing away. “Drake!” he yelled. “Now!”
I tensed, expecting Drake to lift his sword and charge at me, but instead, he reached down, pushed his black cloak aside, and plucked another small metal canister from a row of them on his belt.
“Watch out!” I screamed.
But once again, I was too late. Drake used his Viking strength to slam the canister down onto the floor, causing it to splinter apart and spew red smoke everywhere. Takeda, Aunt Rachel, and I got the worst of it, but red smoke filled the rotunda, engulfing everyone.
My healing magic flared back up again, and the cool power quickly soothed the burning, scratching, and stabbing sensations in my eyes, nose, and throat. Maybe it was because I knew what to expect, or maybe my magic had simply kicked into a higher gear, but the smoke didn’t bother me nearly as much as it had the first time. My friends couldn’t say the same, though. They were all coughing and wiping tears out of their eyes. Even the Fafnir dragon recoiled from the red clouds.
But the smoke didn’t seem to affect Covington and Drake, who turned and ran away, disappearing down one of the hallways. Cowards.
I started after them, but the dragon hissed again, and I realized that it was still under orders to kill us. For a moment, I was torn between chasing after the Reapers and protecting my friends from the dragon, but in the end, it was an easy decision.
I chose my friends.
I whirled around. Everyone else was still stumbling around, trying to get clear of the red smoke and avoid the dragon at the same time. The monster
was keeping to the edges of the clouds, its head swinging back and forth, trying to figure out whom to attack first.
Mateo’s and Ian’s weapons had had little effect on the creature. I still had Babs in my hand, but I didn’t know if the sword would cut through the dragon’s scales, and I didn’t want to risk getting that close to the monster in case the answer was no. So I scanned what I could see of the rotunda, looking for something else that I could use to battle the dragon.
And I found it.
A long silver spear was standing upright in a glass case along the wall. I looked at the dragon, then at the spear, then back at the dragon. My Spartan instincts kicked in, and suddenly, I knew exactly how I could kill the monster.
The dragon decided to go after Takeda and Aunt Rachel, since they were closest to it now. The two of them were still clutching their weapons, but they were also still coughing, wiping away tears, and trying to get their bearings in the smoke. They didn’t realize that the dragon was slowly sneaking up on them.
Well, two could play that game. Even as the dragon stalked Takeda and Aunt Rachel, I crept up behind the monster and started stalking it.
“Hey, Babs,” I said in a low voice. “Have you ever cut through dragon scales before?”
“No,” the sword admitted, her lips moving underneath my palm. “But there’s always a first time for everything, especially in battle!”
I grinned. “I was hoping you’d feel that way. Here…we…go!”
I drew in a deep breath, then let out a loud, primal scream and ran toward the dragon.
At my scream, the creature turned its head and studied me with narrowed eyes. After a moment, it snorted, blowing a bit of black smoke out of its nostrils, as if it was amused by my pitiful attempts to scare and intimidate it. The monster must not have thought I was much of a threat, because instead of launching itself at me, it merely lashed out with its spiked tail, trying to knock my legs out from under me.
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