Spartan Destiny

by Jennifer Estep

  Covington.

  As much as it disgusted me, I forced myself to study every little thing about the evil librarian. Of course, he was still wearing the Chloris Amulet around his neck, with the Narcissus Heart still glowing like a bloody sun in the center of the black stone. But I forced myself to look past all of that, and I realized that he had one other weapon.

  Fafnir’s Dagger.

  Sometime during the fight, Covington had tucked the dagger into a scabbard on his belt. Not only was the dagger a weapon, but it was also an artifact. Surely, it was strong enough to cut through the silver vines. Either way, it was the only thing I had a chance of reaching. I just had to get Covington to bring it over here to me. But he would never do that—unless I made him.

  So I let out a loud, choked cry and then started mumbling, as though I was trying to tell him something important but just didn’t have the strength left to speak any louder.

  “What?” Covington asked. “What are you saying?”

  I kept right on mumbling.

  He frowned and moved forward so that he was standing right in front of me. “What are you saying?”

  I grinned and looked him in the eyes. “I said, come over here so I can grab that dagger off your belt.”

  His eyes widened, and he dropped his hand to his waist, fumbling for the dagger, but I was already moving, and I beat him to it. I curled my fingers around the bronze hilt, yanked the dagger out of its holster, and raised it.

  Covington’s eyes widened again, and he scrambled back, as though he was afraid that I was going to stab him with the dagger. As tempting as that was, I needed to free myself first, so I brought the blade down and sliced through the silver vine that was wound around my left arm.

  The dagger cut through the thick vine like it was made of paper instead of solid metal. To my surprise, the vine actually shrieked with pain, and the high-pitched sound made me wince. As it fell, the severed vine dragged the attached black thorns down with it. The thorns ripped out of my skin, making me yelp, and my cries mixed with those of the vine.

  The severed vine landed at my feet, but it didn’t shriek again. Instead, it violently lashed back and forth, like a snake that I had just killed. A few seconds later, the frantic motions stopped, and the vine and the attached thorns dried up and crumbled to pale silver ash.

  But I wasn’t done yet. Not even close. I raised the dagger again and sliced through the silver vine around my waist. It too shrieked, fell to the floor, and took its black thorns along with it. That second vine writhed around for a few seconds before drying up and crumbling to ash just like the first one.

  Deep gouges crisscrossed my arms, legs, and hands from where the thorns had stabbed into my skin and had then been ripped out. Blood dripped out of the wounds, and the red narcissus venom was still boiling in my veins. I expected my healing magic to kick in and take away the stings of the scratches, along with the heat of the poison, but nothing happened, and the pain kept pulsing through my body. Why wasn’t my magic working?

  Covington screamed in fury and charged at me, his hands curving into claws, as though he wanted to choke me to death for ruining yet another one of his plans.

  The pain was crashing through my body in waves now, but I gritted my teeth, stepped to the side, and stuck my foot out, tripping him. The second he stumbled past me, I staggered over to where Babs was still lying on the floor. I switched the dagger to my left hand, grabbed Babs with my right, and whirled around to face Covington.

  I expected him to attack me again, but instead, he pulled up short, staring at me. A second later, I realized he wasn’t staring at me. At least, not at my face. No, he was looking at…

  The weapons in my hands.

  I frowned. Why would he be staring at my weapons? He still had the Narcissus Heart and the Chloris Amulet hanging around his neck, so he could still summon more silver vines to attack me.

  But he didn’t.

  Covington just stood there, staring at my weapons like he didn’t know what to do. That wasn’t like him. Not at all. What was going on? Why did he suddenly seem so unsure?

  I tracked his gaze, and I realized he was only looking at one of the weapons: Fafnir’s Dagger in my left hand.

  So I swiped out with the dagger, testing my theory. Given all the pain pounding through my body, it was a weak, awkward blow, and Covington stepped to the side, easily avoiding the strike. But to my surprise, instead of trying to counterattack, he kept on going, putting even more distance between us.

  My eyes narrowed. “The dagger. You’re afraid of it. Why?”

  Covington’s lips pressed together in a thin, unhappy line. He didn’t answer my question, but he didn’t have to, because I remembered what I had read on the identification card when I had first seen the dagger at the Cormac Museum.

  Despite being made of scales, the dagger is virtually indestructible, and its point and edges are all extremely sharp. It is rumored to be able to cut through anything, even other weapons…

  Then Sigyn’s voice whispered in my mind. Your instincts were right, and you already have everything you need to save your friends and defeat Covington.

  She had said that to me in the dreamscape ruins. I had thought she was talking about the artifacts I’d stolen from the Bunker, but she must have meant the dagger too. She must have known that it could cut through anything—including the Narcissus Heart.

  My lips curved up into a grim smile. “Hey, Babs. How do you feel about destroying the Narcissus Heart and Covington once and for all?”

  The sword had quit yelling when I had grabbed her from the floor, but she piped right back up again. “Let me at him!” she said. “I’ll strike him down where he stands! I’ll slice that stupid Heart in two!”

  My smile widened. “Just what I wanted to hear.”

  Covington shook his head, as if pushing away his fear, then sneered at me. “You think I’m afraid of that dagger? You have no idea how much power the Heart has, that I have now. You just got a brief taste of it. Let me show you what I’m truly capable of.”

  His eyes burned an even brighter red, and he threw his arms out wide. Wave after wave of power pulsed out of the Narcissus Heart, but this time, they brought something else along with them.

  Seeds.

  Red narcissus seeds spewed out of the Heart and rode through the air on those invisible waves of power. The second the seeds dropped down and landed on something, whether it was a tattered book or a wooden table or even the stone floor, they started sprouting, and silver vines covered with black thorns began twisting, writhing, and lashing through the air.

  One of the vines snaked across the floor toward my ankle. I raised Babs to hack at it, but an ax slammed into the vine, killing it before it could reach me. I looked up.

  Ian was there, standing right beside me and wielding his ax. “Go!” he yelled. “We’ll watch your back!”

  My head snapped left and right. My friends had shaken off their hard falls and gotten back up onto their feet and back into the fight.

  The silver vines crept toward Takeda, who hacked at them with his stolen sword. Professor Dalaja picked up a dead Reaper’s sword and did the same thing, while Aunt Rachel simply stomped the vines with her feet. She was still wearing Hephaestus’s Apron, which gave her enough strength to squish the thick coils as if they were as small as grapes.

  Mateo did something even more clever. He was still wearing Hermes’s Sandals, so when the vines started chasing after him, he began zipping around the library, doing loop after loop, making the tendrils tie themselves together into tight knots. Up on the second floor, Zoe grabbed her electrospear and shot out bolt after bolt of electricity, frying the vines that slithered toward her. And the gryphons took flight again and dive-bombed the vines, tearing them apart with their sharp beaks and talons.

  Ian cut through another vine that was creeping up on me, and I turned toward Covington. He was standing in front of the checkout counter, and he held his arms out wide again. The silver vines on
the Chloris Amulet started writhing again, and this time, they shot out like fists, punching through everything in their path. Chairs, tables, even the bookcases. They all broke apart and splintered under the vines’ vicious attacks.

  I gripped Babs and Fafnir’s Dagger even tighter and waded into the battle.

  By this point, the vines were everywhere, and more and more sprouted every second. It wouldn’t be long before the vines broke through my friends’ defenses and completely overwhelmed them. I had to get to Covington and destroy the Narcissus Heart before that happened. So I gritted my teeth again, ignored the pain still pulsing through my body, and let my Spartan instincts take over and guide my every move.

  Spinning. Bobbing. Weaving. Ducking. Leaping. Twirling. I turned and twisted my body every which way, avoiding as many of the vines as I could and using Babs and the dagger to slice through the ones that blocked my path.

  Covington growled and sent another wave of vines shooting out of the amulet, trying to knock me back, but I avoided those too. Sweat dripped down my face, and every single part of me was either aching, bleeding, or both, but I kept going.

  I fought harder than I had ever fought in my entire life, and I felt as though I was battling a hundred enemies at once. For every vine that I either dodged or cut down, three more sprang up to take its place. But I kept going, and I slowly started to make some progress toward Covington.

  Until Drake stepped in front of me.

  The Reapers had also gotten back into the fight, although they were trying to keep from being swallowed up by the vines, instead of attacking my friends again. The vines had already wrapped around the two basilisks, which were cawing and desperately trying to free themselves. Even the dragon had shed its lazy demeanor and was clawing through the vines, breathing fire on them.

  Yes, all of the Reapers and the monsters were fighting the vines—except for Drake.

  He snarled and swung his sword, trying to kill me, but once again, Ian was there. He stepped in front of me and rammed his ax into Drake’s sword, stopping his brother.

  “Go, Rory!” Ian yelled, focusing on Drake. “Finish it!”

  I darted around the two brothers and charged at Covington, who threw up his hands again. More vines erupted from the Narcissus Heart and the Chloris Amulet, but I avoided them and kept going.

  Covington screamed in frustration and unleashed another wave of vines, more than ever before. My Spartan instincts showed me exactly what was going to happen next.

  I had two choices. I could retreat, save myself from the vines, and try to get to Covington some other way, or I could keep going and finally reach him—and let the vines catch me and finish tearing me to pieces.

  I kept going.

  Because my Spartan instincts also told me that this was the only chance I would ever have to destroy the Narcissus Heart—and that all my friends would die if I didn’t end it right here and now.

  I had joined Team Midgard to protect people and make up for my parents’ mistakes as Reapers. Well, this was how I was going to do it—by trading my life for those of my friends.

  That was my true Spartan destiny.

  Covington’s eyes narrowed. He realized that I wasn’t going to retreat, and he quickly unleashed another wave of silver vines. This time, I couldn’t avoid them all.

  A vine snaked around my right wrist, making me lower Babs to my side. The sword growled, and so did I.

  Another vine whipped across my face. I jerked my head back, but not before the black thorns left stinging gashes all along my right cheek.

  And finally, a third vine curled around my neck. The thorns dug into my skin like a macabre choker, slowly cutting and strangling the life out of me.

  But I kept going, struggling forward one slow, agonizing step at a time. I wasn’t giving up. Not while I still had a single breath left in my body. I might die here in the library, just like my parents had, but I would die fighting. I would die as a proud Spartan warrior, just like they had. That was their true legacy to me. Not them being Reapers, not all the horrible things they had done. Above all else, my parents had taught me to keep fighting, which was exactly what I was going to do.

  So I kept going, forcing my way inch by inch, foot by foot, over to where Covington was still standing by the counter. The vines lashed out at me over and over again, and the thorns raked across my arms, legs, and hands, opening up more gashes and infecting me with more and more venom. With every breath I took, the pain, the agony, increased, as did the pressure on my neck from where the last vine was strangling me.

  But I kept going.

  At first, Covington’s lips curved with amusement. He liked watching me suffer, watching me struggle. But his smile slowly faded as he realized that I was still coming and that the vines hadn’t killed me yet.

  And that I still had Fafnir’s Dagger in my hand.

  Too late, he realized his mistake. Covington’s eyes widened, and he stepped back, trying to get away. But he had forgotten that he was standing up against the checkout counter, and there was nowhere for him to go.

  He opened his mouth, probably to scream at Drake or someone else to come and save him. But no one was going to save him. Not this time.

  Not from me.

  Before Covington could let out so much as a whisper, I surged across the last few feet between us and whipped up Fafnir’s Dagger.

  And then I drove the blade straight into the Narcissus Heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Once again, that intense red light flared, engulfing the library in its bloody, brilliant glow.

  A loud scream sounded, but it wasn’t coming from Covington or me or anyone else.

  It was coming from the Narcissus Heart.

  The brilliant red glare dimmed, and I blinked, trying to see through the spots swimming before my eyes. My aim had been true, and I had avoided the silver vines that wrapped around the Chloris Amulet.

  I had done it—I had buried Fafnir’s Dagger in the center of the Narcissus Heart.

  The Heart itself was still beating, even more loudly and more rapidly than before, as if it was trying to force out the dagger so that it could somehow heal itself. But I’d come too far, I’d suffered too much, and I wasn’t going to let that happen. I was still holding Fafnir’s Dagger, and I tightened my grip and drove the blade even deeper into the Heart.

  The artifact screamed again, but I gritted my teeth and kept going, pushing and shoving and sawing the dagger deeper into the Heart. That identification card at the Cormac Museum had been right. Fafnir’s Dagger really could cut through anything.

  What the card hadn’t said was just how hard it would be to cut through the Heart.

  Fafnir’s Dagger was the sharpest blade I had ever wielded, and the Narcissus Heart was the densest, thickest, hardest thing I had ever tried to cut through. Even with the dagger and all its sharpness, I still felt like I was using a toothpick to try to saw through a cement block.

  But I gritted my teeth and kept sawing, even though more silver vines twisted around my body and more black thorns stabbed me over and over again, until I couldn’t tell where they ended and I began. And through it all, I could feel more red narcissus venom pouring into my body, burning me alive. I was so unbelievably, unbearably hot that I was surprised my blood wasn’t boiling up out of my dozens of cuts and gashes.

  “Stop!” Covington screamed, his voice spewing in time to the still-beating Heart. “Stop!”

  I ignored him and kept on sawing. Covington lurched to the side, trying to get himself and the artifact away from me, but I snarled, tightened my grip on the dagger, and followed him.

  Covington realized that he couldn’t get rid of me that way, so he lashed out with his fists, driving them into my face, chest, and arms over and over again. But the hard, stinging blows were nothing compared with what the vines and thorns were still doing to me, so I ignored his punches and kept on sawing.

  A small crack appeared in the Narcissus Heart, right above where the dagger had f
irst punched into the artifact. Even though it was as thin and delicate as a strand in a spider’s web, seeing that one small crack gave me renewed energy, and I redoubled my efforts.

  A second crack appeared.

  Then another one. Then another one.

  The cracks spread and spread, until the entire Heart looked like a jigsaw puzzle that someone had haphazardly pieced together. Well, I was about to break it all apart and destroy the artifact for good. I snarled and tightened my grip to twist the dagger in a final time—

  Something slammed into my side, and fresh pain flooded my body. I looked down to find a dagger sticking out of my stomach. Covington must have had the weapon hidden somewhere beneath his red Reaper cloak.

  He smiled and punched the dagger even deeper into my body. “You can’t win, Rory. I’ve told you that all along. Maybe you’ll finally believe me, now that I’ve killed you.”

  He was right about that. Blood poured out of the mortal wound, taking the last of my strength along with it. My legs shook, and it was all I could do to remain standing.

  “You should be grateful, Rory,” Covington hissed in my face, twisting the dagger in deeper still. “At least I didn’t stab you in the back like I did your precious parents.”

  White-hot rage erupted in my heart at his cruel, cruel words. Covington might have killed me, but he wasn’t going to win either. Even though it was going to be the last thing I ever did, I was going to avenge my parents and destroy the Narcissus Heart.

  I grabbed hold of that rage, and the burst of strength that came along with it, and tightened my grip on Fafnir’s Dagger.

  And then I shoved the blade into the Narcissus Heart as deep as I could.

  CRACK!

  The dagger finally cut all the way through the Heart, which screamed a final time, then shattered into a hundred pieces. That red light flared again, brighter than ever before, but just as quickly as it had appeared, it faded away.

  I blinked, once again trying to get my bearings. I was still holding the dagger in my hand, although the broken Heart was now lying in shards on the floor all around Covington and me, as though we were standing on a carpet made of splintered ruby glass. The red color quickly leeched out of the pieces, which turned black and brittle and then disintegrated into ash.