Spartan Destiny

by Jennifer Estep

  Somewhere deeper in the Bunker, the heating system kicked on. A gust of warm air kissed my cheek, and the clouds of smoke started rising toward the ceiling. The system must have sensed the smoke and was sucking it out of the briefing room.

  A few seconds later, most of the smoke had disappeared into a vent embedded in the wall above the monitors. I got to my feet and waved away a few lingering wisps. Someone let out a low cough. I whirled around. My friends weren’t unconscious.

  They were something far, far worse.

  Ian, Zoe, Mateo, Aunt Rachel, Takeda, and Professor Dalaja were lined up on the opposite side of the briefing table. They were all standing stiff, straight, and tall, like soldiers who had been called to attention and were awaiting their commander’s orders. They weren’t coughing anymore, although tears continued to leak out of their eyes.

  Eyes that were all completely, sickeningly red.

  Everyone’s eyes were totally red now, just like Ian’s were, and those ugly red and black streaks spread out from the corners, as though they had red narcissus venom running through their veins instead of blood. That was exactly what was in their bodies.

  I looked at my friends, but they all had the same flat expressions on their faces, and I knew they weren’t my friends anymore. Not really. They were something else now, something dark and twisted.

  Something dangerous.

  The sight made me sick to my stomach, and I thought I might vomit, but I forced down the hot, bitter bile rising in my throat.

  Because my friends weren’t alone.

  Covington and Drake were standing right beside them.

  Chapter Eleven

  I whipped Babs up into an attack position and looked past Covington and Drake, expecting more Reapers to pour into the room, but the hallway behind them remained empty. They hadn’t brought any more Reapers down here, so I focused on Covington again.

  “What have you done to my friends?” I growled.

  He gave me a smug smile. “Oh, come on, Rory. You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now.”

  I jerked my head at the cracked metal canister on the floor. “That smoke bomb and the others at the museum last night were full of red narcissus venom. Somehow you found a way to turn those seeds into smoke, to poison us.”

  Covington’s smile widened. “Exactly! Remember the red Chloris box I stole from the Idun Estate? Well, I took all the lovely seeds that were inside it and planted them. It took me a few weeks to grow enough red narcissus flowers, but once I had them, it was easy enough to dry the petals, grind them up into a powder, and then rig up some smoke bombs to distribute that powder and the venom inside it.”

  He looked at my friends. “And it worked far better than I had hoped. Although we had to give Mr. Hunter another dose before the venom fully took hold of him and he agreed to infect the rest of you.”

  Covington walked over to Ian. He waved his hand in front of Ian’s face, but the Viking didn’t move, didn’t flinch, didn’t do anything but stand there with that blank expression, like he was a robot waiting for his next command.

  “What did you do to Ian?” I growled again. “How did you get to him?”

  Covington turned away from the motionless Viking and shrugged at me. “Drake and I slipped onto campus and waited outside Ian’s dorm. He was already feeling quite poorly, so he was easy to subdue and then dose with more venom.”

  I looked at Ian again, but he still didn’t move or show any response to the Reaper’s mocking words. He just stood there like a statue—cold, remote, and utterly distant. My heart ached, and hot tears pricked my eyes, but I blinked away the stinging drops and focused on Covington and Drake again. I couldn’t let my emotions distract me, not if I wanted to save Ian and everyone else.

  “But how did you get past all the security cameras with their facial-recognition software?” I asked. “The cameras and the software should have alerted Mateo and Takeda the second you two set foot on campus.”

  Covington shrugged again. “Masks, of course. We bought a couple of extremely lifelike masks from a Halloween shop a few weeks ago. We knew that the cameras would be looking for us but not a couple of people in random masks. Sometimes the most complicated problem has the easiest solution.”

  I bit back a curse. And of course, the evil librarian had come up with that solution. It was as simple and brilliant as Logan and Linus Quinn hiding in the fireplace a few days ago. Only this wasn’t a training mission, and my friends were suffering because of Covington’s cleverness. More anger rose up in me, and I shifted on my feet and lifted Babs a little higher.

  Drake took the motion as a threat, and he snapped up his own sword. I held my position and glared at him, and he gave me a murderous look in return.

  “Why isn’t she infected like the others?” Drake asked. “You said there was enough venom in that one canister to fully infect everyone down here.”

  Covington studied me. “I have no idea, but let’s find out.”

  He lifted his hand. I tensed, thinking that he was going to order Drake to attack me, but Covington reached under his red Reaper cloak, took hold of a chain around his neck, and fished it out from beneath the fabric. He ran his fingers down the long silver chain, then grabbed hold of the object on the end and held it out where I could see it.

  The Chloris Amulet.

  The amulet was bigger than my palm and made of polished jet that soaked up the light the same way the black Chloris box did. And just like on the box, silver tendrils wrapped around the amulet, protecting the black stone, although there was a gaping hole in the center of the design.

  I bit back another curse. I had been so focused on losing Fafnir’s Dagger that I had forgotten that Covington also had the Chloris Amulet. The artifact would let him control anyone who was infected with red narcissus venom, despite the fact that the amulet was missing its centerpiece, the Narcissus Heart.

  Covington smirked at me, then wrapped his hand around the amulet and faced my friends. “Ian, do you know why Rory hasn’t been infected like everyone else?”

  Ian’s eyes widened, and he jerked forward, like a puppet whose strings had just been pulled. His head slowly turned, and he focused his red gaze on me. My heart ached again. I didn’t know which was worse to watch, him standing there like a statue or being forced to obey Covington’s commands.

  Covington waited, but Ian didn’t speak, so he clenched his hand even tighter around the amulet. Even though Covington wasn’t actually touching him, Ian still winced, as though the Reaper was reaching inside him and squeezing Ian’s heart as tightly as he was the amulet.

  “I asked you a question, boy.” Covington barked out the words. “Why isn’t Rory under my control like the rest of you?”

  Ian winced again, but it must have hurt too much to resist any longer, because he finally answered. “Probably because she has healing magic, now that she’s Sigyn’s Champion.”

  Covington’s hazel eyes narrowed, and he studied me even more closely than before. “Interesting. Very, very interesting.”

  I grimaced. Until this moment, I had managed to keep my healing magic a secret from the Reaper leader. I had realized that if he knew about my power, it would only make him that much more determined to make me his Reaper puppet.

  I wondered if Ian would say anything else, like that I was wearing Pan’s Whistle on my charm bracelet, but he fell silent again, and I let out a quiet sigh of relief. At least, that secret was still safe.

  “If she has healing magic, then how are you going to infect her?” Drake asked.

  Covington smiled. “Don’t worry. I have an idea.” He snapped his fingers at Takeda. “Bring me the black Chloris box.”

  I looked at Takeda, desperately hoping that he was somehow faking being infected, but he jerked forward. Takeda might have healing magic, but his power could only be used to help others. He couldn’t heal himself, not like I could, which meant that he was just as much under Covington’s control as Ian was.

  My h
eart sank, but I brandished my sword, putting myself between the Reapers and the artifact shelves.

  Covington gave me an amused look. “Oh, Rory. Why are you still fighting when it’s so obvious that I’ve won? Put your sword away, or I’ll have Drake kill your friends, starting with your precious Viking boyfriend.”

  Drake grinned at me and pressed his sword against Ian’s throat.

  Despite Covington’s words and Drake’s blade at his neck, Ian still didn’t react. Didn’t protest, didn’t move, didn’t lift a finger to defend himself. And I knew that he wouldn’t, that he couldn’t, not as long as he was infected with the venom.

  I had no choice. I slowly lifted my sword even higher, then took hold of the blade and held the weapon out to my side so that I could see Babs’s face. Concern creased the sword’s metal features, but determination glinted in her green eye.

  “It’s all right, Rory,” Babs said. “We’ll figure a way out of this.”

  Drake barked out a laugh. “Stupid sword doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

  Babs’s eye narrowed, and rage sparked in her gaze, the same rage that was beating in my own heart right now. “Stupid Reaper doesn’t know what he’s talking about. I’ve cut down far more terrifying things than you, laddie. Trust me. You’ll be screaming a different tune when my blade is buried in your rotten heart.”

  An angry flush stained Drake’s cheeks a bright red. He dropped his sword from Ian’s neck and started toward me, but Covington held out his hand, stopping him.

  “No,” Covington said. “I still want her alive, and her talking sword too.”

  Drake shot Babs another angry glare, but he lowered his sword.

  I nodded at Babs, telling her that I wasn’t giving up either, then slid the sword into the scabbard hooked to my belt.

  Once I’d put my weapon away, Covington and Drake both visibly relaxed. Fools. They should have remembered that I was a Spartan and that I could use anything as a weapon.

  Like the artifact that was still hidden in the back pocket of my jeans.

  Covington snapped his fingers at Takeda again. “Hiro, bring me the box. Now.”

  Takeda jerked forward again and walked straight at me like I wasn’t even there. Maybe I wasn’t, given the venom running through his veins. Maybe all he could see and hear were Covington’s commands. Takeda approached me, and I had to step out of the way to keep him from running into me.

  For a second, Takeda was between the Reapers and me, and I used that moment to reach back, grab the artifact out of my jeans pocket, and turn it around so that it was resting up against my forearm. Then I dropped my hand down to my side so that the Reapers wouldn’t notice the artifact I was now holding.

  Takeda disappeared back into the shelves, and I frowned and looked at Covington again.

  “What’s wrong, Rory?” he asked. “You seem confused.”

  I couldn’t help but ask the question that was on my mind. “Don’t you want the white Chloris box too? The one we stopped you from stealing last night?”

  Covington laughed. “Why would I want that useless thing? After all, I was the one who arranged for the museum curators to find it at that estate sale so they could put it on display.”

  Shock knifed through me, along with a sickening realization.

  “You planted the box at the museum,” I whispered. “You knew that we would find out that it was there and come after it. This was never about you stealing the white Chloris box. You just used it to lure us to the museum so you could poison everyone with your red narcissus smoke bombs.”

  He nodded. “Exactly! I didn’t know how many times I would have to dose you and your friends with the smoke before you were fully infected, and purposefully running into you at the museum was the easiest way to start poisoning you all at once without anyone being the wiser. I’d had that particular Chloris box for quite a while, and it seemed like the perfect bait.”

  It’s the things you don’t see coming that will kill you. Logan Quinn’s voice whispered in my mind again. He had certainly been right about that. Once again, the Reapers had been three steps ahead of us, and we hadn’t realized it until it was too late.

  “So what’s in the white box then? Why is it so useless?” I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.

  I didn’t really expect him to tell me, but he shrugged again, as if it was no big secret.

  “More seeds, of course. For all kinds of flowers. But none of them are red narcissus seeds, so I had no use for the box. It can rot down here on a shelf for all I care. But enough about that. I want to see how well my new toys follow orders.”

  Covington walked up and down the row of my friends. Ian, Zoe, Mateo, Aunt Rachel, Professor Dalaja. He stopped in front of each of them, clutched the Chloris Amulet, and gave them simple commands, like telling them to lift their arms, and then watched their reactions to make sure they were completely under his control.

  And they were—every single one of them.

  They all winced and jerked, as though the easy motions hurt, but they all obeyed his commands perfectly. Every time my friends lifted their arms or nodded their heads or turned around in a circle, it was like they were stabbing a dagger straight into my heart. I hated seeing them like this. I hated the fact that Covington had reduced them all to his playthings.

  And I especially hated the fact that there was nothing I could do to help them.

  I was a Spartan. I knew all about fighting, and I also knew when a fight was completely, utterly lost. The red narcissus venom had fully infected my friends, and there was nothing I could do to save them. Not right now.

  Oh, I could yank Babs out of her scabbard and attack Covington and Drake. I might be able to hurt them, maybe even kill them, but not before Covington used the Chloris Amulet to give my friends another command. Like order them to attack me—or, worse, to hurt themselves. Or a dozen other horrible things. I couldn’t take that risk, not with my friends’ lives.

  So, as much as it pained me, I quit thinking about how to save them and started thinking about how to save myself.

  It was the only chance I had right now, and it was the only chance my friends had as well. As long as I was still alive and free of Covington’s control, I could still rescue my friends. Everything would be lost if I became infected too.

  Covington was still giving his creepy commands, and Drake was watching his boss instead of me. So I glanced around, trying to figure out how I could escape—and what I could take with me.

  Drake’s gaze flicked to Covington again, and I sidled to my right, drifting over toward my desk. My messenger bag was still lying there, along with Minerva’s Spear. I needed my phone, which I’d stuffed into my bag earlier. I had to call Linus Quinn and tell him what was going on. If nothing else, maybe he could send some Protectorate guards to trap Covington and Drake in the Bunker. But I needed to call Linus to make that happen, and that meant grabbing my bag on my way out of here, along with the spear. The more weapons I had, the better.

  Drake noticed my sidling and turned his sharp blue gaze back to me. I froze, but I’d already gotten close enough to my desk to reach out and grab my bag and the spear. Now I just had to wait for the right moment.

  Takeda stepped into view, with the black Chloris box clutched in his hands.

  Covington’s face brightened, and he waved his hand. “Put it down over here.”

  Takeda walked forward and set the box on the briefing table.

  “Thank you, Hiro,” Covington said. “That will be all.”

  Takeda nodded, moved around the table, and took his place in line with the rest of my friends.

  Covington stared at the black Chloris box with a dreamy, reverent expression. “At last,” he murmured. “After all these long years of searching, of planning. It’s all finally paying off.”

  He stared at the box a moment longer, then reached down and plucked a dagger from a scabbard hooked to the black leather belt cinched around his waist. And not just any dagger—Fafn
ir’s Dagger. The red scales and the bronze wiring gleamed as Covington sliced his palm open with the blade.

  “I guess that identification card at the museum was right. That dagger really can cut through anything, even evil Reapers,” I said in a snide voice.

  Covington laughed, while Drake rolled his eyes. Yeah, as far as insults went, that one was pretty weak. But my words distracted them both long enough for me to reach out and wrap my fingers around the strap of my messenger bag. I’d only have one shot to escape, and I had to be ready.

  Covington squeezed his hand into a fist, and several drops of his blood spattered onto the black stone. The silver vines and thorns on the box started writhing, twisting, and rearranging themselves. Several soft click-click-clicks sounded, and the top of the box popped open.

  Covington’s hazel eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and a wide smile split his face. “At last,” he murmured again.

  He slid the dagger back into the scabbard on his belt, then reached out and slowly opened the box, clearly savoring the moment. I tightened my grip on the artifact still hidden in my hand, getting ready.

  Covington lifted the top of the box out of the way, then stared at the contents. He blinked, once, twice, three times, and confusion filled his eyes. He reached down and picked up a handful of the red crystal hearts that I had placed inside the box. Covington frowned and let the crystals slowly trickle through his fingers and back down into the box.

  Drake stepped up beside him, also frowning. “You said the Narcissus Heart was in the black Chloris box. What are those? More seeds?”

  I could tell the exact moment when Covington realized that the hearts were only crystals instead of more seeds. His eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared, and rage stained his cheeks a dark, mottled purple. He stared at the box a moment longer, then whirled around and stabbed his finger at me.