Jennifer Estep Bundle

by Jennifer Estep

  The Valkyrie snorted. “Great. So you’re going to dig through a Reaper’s head instead of spying on the rest of us. Well, that’s a change, I suppose, from eavesdropping on your friends. Have fun with that, Gypsy.”

  Daphne shoved past me and stormed off down the hall without another word.

  Chapter 15

  I stood there, mouth open, and watched her go. Yeah, the Valkyrie could be volatile sometimes, but that was the second time today she’d been nasty to me. Okay, okay, so maybe I had been eavesdropping on Daphne and Metis, but that was just because I was concerned about Daphne. Sue me for caring about my best friend.

  Metis stepped out of her office, her green eyes soft and kind.

  I sighed. “I take it you heard that?”

  The professor nodded. “Daphne’s just upset. She thought her magic would be one thing, and it’s turned out to be another instead.”

  “Yeah, but why is she taking it out on me?”

  Metis tilted her head to one side. “Because your magic is exactly what it’s supposed to be. You fully embrace your power, Gwen, and you try to do good with it. That’s one of the things that makes you so strong. Don’t worry about Daphne. She’ll be all right. It’ll take her a little time to adjust, but she’ll come to understand that everything happens for a reason. That the gods give us the gifts we need when we need them the most.”

  The professor stared off into the distance. “I was the same way when I was her age. I hoped that my magic would be physical instead of mental.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Metis sighed. “Magic is basically divided into two categories—physical and mental. Physical magic involves things like the fire magic Daphne said her mother has. Usually, physical magic can be used to hurt someone else, while mental magic is often more of a protective magic, like my healing power.”

  “So what you’re saying is that physical magic has some kind of actual form or shape, right? Like rain from a storm?”

  Metis nodded back. “Right. Rain from a storm would be a physical form of magic, something you can actually see and feel and touch, whereas telekinesis or telepathy would be a mental form, something you can’t necessarily see or touch.”

  For some reason, the word telepathy seemed to resonate in my head, like a bell softly chiming, although I had no idea why. As far as I knew, I’d never met anyone with telepathic magic. Lots of kids at Mythos had the physical magic Metis had described, like the ability to shoot lightning out of their fingertips or summon up gusts of wind with just a wave of their hands. I supposed the enhanced senses so many of the students had would be considered a form of mental magic.

  “But what about my magic?” I asked. “What about my touch magic?”

  That’s what some people called my psychometry—touch magic.

  “Your touch magic is different,” Metis said. “It’s one of the rare abilities that can be both physical and mental at the same time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Metis tapped her fingers against her lips, like she was struggling over how to explain it to me. “Well, obviously, you know about the mental part. That’s when you touch objects and see things, as you put it. When you get flashes of other people’s memories and emotions in your own mind.”

  I nodded.

  “But there’s a physical aspect to touch magic as well,” Metis said. “You can get vibes off objects easily enough, but those with touch magic like yours can also influence people. I imagine if you tried hard enough, Gwen, you could push your thoughts and feelings into someone and make her see and feel exactly what you wanted her to. In theory, you could do even more than that. Your psychometry lets you see people’s memories, lets you feel what they feel. Who’s to say that you couldn’t reach even deeper inside them? Perhaps even tap into someone’s magic while you were fighting him and turn it against him? There are some very interesting theories about touch magic out there, although few of them have ever been proven, since it’s such a rare gift.”

  Metis’s words made me flash back to the Reaper attack. I remembered seeing that spark inside Daphne and trying to reach out and grab it with my own magic. For a few seconds, it had almost felt like that was what I was doing, like I was channeling her healing energy, before the Valkyrie had toppled over from exhaustion. Maybe that was exactly what I’d done, since all the cuts and bruises I’d gotten during my fight with the Reaper girl had vanished then. I wondered if that was what Metis was talking about, if tapping into Daphne’s or even someone else’s power was one of those mysterious other things I might be able to do with my Gypsy gift.

  Basically, though, the professor had told me the same thing my Grandma Frost had a while back—that my magic would keep getting stronger and keep growing and that I’d be able to do more and more things with it. I wondered how it all worked, though. I’d never tried to take more than memories and feelings from an object, and I’d certainly never tried to exert my will over anyone else.

  I opened my mouth to ask her another question, but Metis cut me off.

  “Let me get my jacket, and I’ll take you down to the prison,” she said. “I’m interested to hear what Preston has to say for himself today. And don’t worry about Daphne. She’ll be okay.”

  The professor stepped back inside her office. Once again, I thought about Daphne’s harsh words and the anger simmering in her eyes. Somehow I doubted the Valkyrie would come around as quickly as Metis thought she would.

  Metis and I left the English-history building and walked across the upper quad to the math-science one. I tucked my chin down into my gray scarf to try and keep warm, but the air seemed to grow colder and colder with every step I took, like there was a storm blowing in.

  I followed Metis into the math-science building, and then down, down, down we went, going through a series of doors coded with keypads and magical locks, until it seemed like we were so far underground, we would never see the sun again.

  Finally, we came to an enormous door that was made out of the same dark gray stone as the rest of the building. Thick iron bars crisscrossed over the door, and two sphinxes had been carved into the stone facing each other. The creatures looked even fiercer than the ones on the gates outside did, like their sole reason for being was to keep whatever was behind the door from getting out. No matter how many times I came down here, the sight of the glaring sphinxes always made me uneasy. I shivered and looked away.

  Metis fished a large skeleton key from her jacket pocket and slid it into the lock. The door opened with a loud screech, and we stepped through to the other side.

  The prison had a dome-shaped ceiling, just like the Library of Antiquities, and seemed much larger than it should have been, considering how far underground we were. Glass cells made up the circular prison walls, stacking up to form three floors. It always struck me as kind of funny that this was one place at the academy that didn’t have any statues of gods, goddesses, or mythological creatures. Instead, a hand holding an enormous set of balanced scales had been carved into the stone ceiling. That didn’t make it any less creepy, though.

  A desk squatted right inside the door. Usually, Raven sat there, reading one of her celebrity gossip magazines, but today, her chair was empty. Metis saw my questioning look.

  “Raven had to go over to the dining hall to get some supplies for her coffee cart,” she said. “Besides, it’s not like Preston’s going anywhere. If the other Reapers had wanted him free, they would have come for him by now.”

  Her explanation made sense, but it didn’t make me feel any better about being here. Nothing ever did. I put my bag down on Raven’s desk and turned toward the center of the prison.

  Preston Ashton slumped over a stone table in the middle of the domed room, right underneath the hand-and-scales carving. Despite the fact that he was wearing an orange jumpsuit and paper shoes, Preston was a handsome guy with white-blond hair, pale blue eyes, and chiseled features. At least, I’d thought he was gorgeous until, you know, he’d tried to kill me a coupl
e of times. Now, when I looked at Preston, all I saw was the Reaper red spark that burned in the bottom of his eyes.

  Preston sat up at the soft whisper of our footsteps on the floor, and his lips curled back into a sneer.

  “Why, Gypsy,” he said. “You haven’t been down here in weeks. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me over the holidays.”

  As if I could ever forget about Preston and the awful thing he’d promised to do to my Grandma Frost if he ever got free. But there was no point in letting the Reaper know just how much he scared me—that would only make him happy.

  “Actually, I put you completely out of my mind during the holidays,” I said in a cool voice, dropping into the stone chair across from him. “It was rather refreshing not to go digging through your depraved memories for a few weeks.”

  Preston jerked toward me, but the chains that shackled his arms to the table and his legs to the floor kept him from moving more than an inch.

  “Temper, temper,” I mocked him.

  Preston sat back in his chair and gave me a cold smile, although his cheeks still burned with anger. “We’ll see who’s laughing soon, Gypsy. We’ll see.”

  I ignored the chill his smirking tone always made me feel, grabbed his hands, and reached for my magic. I spent the next fifteen minutes digging into Preston’s mind, sorting through his memories, the things he’d seen and the horrible, terrible, sickening things he’d done as a Reaper. The people he’d killed, everyone he had tortured, everyone he’d ever hurt, I saw it all—and it was all very, very bad.

  “Are you getting anything?” Metis asked.

  I shook my head. “Nothing. Just the same memories I’ve seen before. I don’t think he knows anything about the attack at the coliseum or where the Helheim Dagger might be hidden.”

  Preston raised an eyebrow. “Still searching for the dagger, Gypsy? I would have thought a clever girl like you would have found it by now.”

  “Shut up, Reaper,” I said and reached for his hands again.

  Once again, I got nothing. No hint that Preston had known about the attack and no clue that he had any idea where the dagger was. I’d just let go of his hands when Metis’s cell phone rang. The professor pulled the phone out of her pocket.

  “Hello? Hello?” Metis pulled the phone away from her ear and shook her head. “It cut off. I can never get good reception down here. I’ll have to go upstairs to call back.”

  Metis told me to take a break, since she also needed to update Nickamedes and Coach Ajax about the big, fat lot of nothing I’d found out. The professor excused herself, saying she would be back in a few minutes. She left the prison, leaving me alone with Preston.

  Since I didn’t want to touch the Reaper without Metis here, I got up and roamed around the prison, looking into all the cells. There wasn’t much to see. Some of the cells featured cots, sinks, and metal toilets, while some were just empty rooms. That’s where they would keep the creatures, I thought. The Nemean prowlers, the Fenrir wolves, and the Black rocs the Reapers used to do their dirty work for them.

  Preston didn’t say anything while I walked around, but he kept his hate-filled eyes on me, just watching—which creeped me out more than if he’d been screaming curses at me the whole time.

  Finally, I couldn’t stand the silence anymore, and I headed for the door. I’d wait outside until Metis came back and then I’d try looking into Preston’s mind again. I opened the door to step out into the hallway—and found the Reaper girl there waiting for me.

  “Hello, Gypsy,” she said in a nasty tone. “Miss me?”

  Before I could move, before I could react, before I could even scream, the Reaper girl stepped forward and punched me in the face. I staggered back and fell to the stone floor, but the Reaper girl didn’t stop there. She kicked me in the ribs, and I let out a moan and rolled away from her. Still, despite the pain, I couldn’t help wondering how she had gotten down here in the first place past all the doors and locks.

  “Forget about her!” Preston screamed from across the room. “Get me out of these chains! Quick! Before Metis comes back!”

  The Reaper girl vaulted over me and darted over to the table where Preston was chained. She wore the same black robe and rubber Loki mask that she’d had on during the coliseum attack. I didn’t know where she’d gotten it from, but the Reaper girl pulled out a key from the folds of her robe and started fiddling with the lock on Preston’s chains. A second later, the lock snapped open—and I knew that I was in big, big trouble.

  I scrambled to my feet and lurched over to Raven’s desk. The Reaper girl saw what I was doing and raced back over to me just as I drew Vic out of my bag and yanked the sword from his leather scabbard. I always brought Vic with me whenever I came to the prison, since he made me feel a smidge safer. The Reaper girl responded by drawing her own sword from underneath the billowing folds of her black robe.

  “Lucretia!” Vic hissed at the sight of the other sword.

  Lucretia’s burning red eye narrowed with hate. “Vic!” she snarled right back.

  That was all they had time to say before the fight started.

  Slash-slash-clang!

  My sword locked with the Reaper girl’s, the blades throwing red and purple sparks everywhere as the two weapons shouted taunts and insults at each other.

  “Butter knife!” Lucretia crowed.

  “Rusty spoon!” Vic snapped.

  I tuned out the swords’ chatter and focused on the Reaper girl, trying to anticipate what she would do next, how she would attack me. Behind me, metal clanked and rattled as one by one, Preston opened the locks on his chains—and then he was free.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Preston head toward me, his hands curled into fists and a murderous look on his handsome face. His eyes were glowing even brighter now—that bloody, eerie Reaper red.

  I lashed out with my sword, making the Reaper girl momentarily retreat, and then turned, so that my back was to one of the glass cells. I wouldn’t last a minute if I let the Reaper girl and Preston attack me from two sides at once. Logan had taught me that. My heart squeezed in on itself. Logan. I wished he was here right now. The Spartan would know what to do—he’d know exactly how to defeat the Reapers. I’d be lucky if I survived another minute.

  Instead of launching himself at me like I expected him to, Preston stopped short and glared at me.

  “Go!” the Reaper girl shouted at Preston. “Go! Go! Go!”

  Preston gave me a cruel smile, then raced out of the prison. I started after him, but the Reaper girl blocked my path and raised her sword again.

  Slash-slash-clang!

  Back and forth we dueled for the better part of two minutes before my sneakers skidded on the smooth stone floor. The Reaper girl took advantage of my slip to punch me in the face again. The force of her blow sent me flying back into one of the cells. My head snapped against the glass, and pain exploded in my skull. Dazed, I slumped to the ground, barely managing to hold on to Vic.

  “Gwen!” Vic shouted. “Get up, Gwen! Get up before she kills you!”

  But I was too dazed to do that—I was too dazed to do anything. The Reaper girl stood there, her sword in her hand. All she had to do was raise it up, bring it down, and I’d be dead.

  Simple as that.

  She stood there, hesitating, like that’s exactly what she wanted to do. But instead of finishing me off, the Reaper girl turned and ran out the open prison door.

  Chapter 16

  I scrambled to my feet and tightened my grip on Vic. Ignoring the pulsing pain in my head, face, and ribs, I darted out the prison door after the Reapers—but they’d already disappeared.

  I hurried to the end of the hall and starting racing up the stairs and through all the open doors. Up, up, up, I went, climbing as fast as I could, but I was already too far behind. I didn’t even hear the hollow echo of Preston’s and the Reaper girl’s footsteps ringing on the stairs above my head.

  “Come on, Gwen!” Vic shouted in an enc
ouraging voice. “You can catch them!”

  Finally, I climbed the last of the stairs, raced out of the math-science building, and skidded to a stop on the upper quad. My head snapped left, then right, as I stood there panting, but Preston and the Reaper girl were nowhere to be seen. Neither was Metis. Kids milled around on the quad like usual, laughing, talking, and texting as they headed for their after-school activities.

  A few kids gave me strange looks, eyeing my flushed face and the giant gulps of air I was sucking down, but I ignored them. What would Preston and the Reaper girl do now? Where would they go? Think, Gwen, think!

  Then, the answer came to me.

  You’d better finish me now, Gypsy. Or I’ll get free one day, and I’ll go kill that doddering old grandmother you love so much.

  Grandma Frost, I thought, remembering Preston’s awful, awful promise to me.

  Somehow I knew that’s where they were headed. Preston wouldn’t miss a chance to hurt me by killing my grandma—he just wouldn’t. And Grandma had no idea he was coming or the horrible danger she was in.

  Terror twisted my heart at the thought, but I forced myself to push past the fear and think. I didn’t know how the Reaper girl had gotten past all the security measures to get down to the prison in the first place, but if she’d been smart enough to do that, then she had to have thought out Preston’s escape as well. She’d get him off campus as quickly as she could, and since the Reapers were leaving the academy grounds, I doubted the sphinxes would try to stop them. And then—and then what?

  A car, I thought. She’d have a car waiting outside the academy walls to whisk Preston away, but the Reaper wouldn’t immediately go into hiding. No, he’d stop by Grandma Frost’s house first. I knew he would, which meant that I needed a car, too, if I had any chance of saving her.

  I sucked in another cold breath and started to run.