Kiss of Frost

Page 29


I just rol ed my eyes, turned up the television a little louder in my dorm room, and let the sword rant.


Two days later, the finAll bel rang, signaling the end of myth-history, my last class of the day. I stuffed my books into my messenger bag and started to file out of the room with the other kids, but Professor Metis stepped in front of me and gestured for me to stay behind.


"I need you to come with me, Gwen," Metis said. "Right now, please."


Icy dread fil ed my stomach at her serious tone and the grim look on her face. "What's wrong? Did something happen to my grandma?"


She shook her head. "No, your grandma's fine, but I need your help with something else."


Mystified and stil a little worried, I fol owed Metis out of the building. We stepped out onto the upper quad. Snow flurries had been flying through the air All day, and now, the fat flakes drifted down, dusting the ground like powdered sugar. Despite the cold, students stil hung out on the quad, clustered together in tight groups, texting on their cel phones as best they could with their gloved fingers.


I thought we might be going to the Library of Antiquities to speak to Nickamedes about something or maybe even to the gym to talk to Coach Ajax, but instead, Metis cut across the quad. I fol owed her, and the two of us headed over to the math-science building. Like All the other structures at Mythos, the building was covered with statues of gryphons, gargoyles, and other mythologicAll creatures, looking hard and sinister underneath their thickening coats of snow. As always, the creatures' eyes seemed to fol ow my every move, as though they were just waiting to shake off the snow, break free of their stony shel s, and attack me.


I shivered; pul ed my gaze away from a pair of snarling, fanged gargoyles mounted on either side of the stone steps; and hurried after the professor.


Metis led me inside the building. Instead of going into one of the classrooms or up to a lab on another floor, I fol owed the professor down severAll flights of stairs. Down, down, down we went until it seemed like we were going into the bel y of the academy. Every once in a while, when we came to a door, Metis would stop and either punch in a code on an electronic keypad or mumble a few words in a language I didn't understand.


I didn't know how far underground we were, but we'd passed the last classroom three floors ago. There were just as many lights on down here as in the rest of the building, but for some reason, the shadows seemed darker, longer, and deeper, like blood slowly oozing across the floor.


Maybe it was sil y of me, but I took care not to step in the shadows, just in case there was something hiding in them that I couldn't see.


FinAll y, on the bottom floor, Metis walked down a long hAll way and stopped outside a strange door. Unlike the other metAll ones we'd passed, this door was made out of the same dark gray stone as the rest of the building. Iron bars thicker than my wrist crisscrossed in a tictac-toe pattern over the stone, and two giant sphinxes had been carved into the surface. The creatures stared at each other, just like the pair above the main academy gate, and I got the sense that this was definitely a door designed to keep something in.


The professor stared at the door a moment, as if the sphinxes might turn their heads and reveAll some secret to her. But the statues remained fixed where they were, so she looked at me.


"I guess I should tel you where we are," Metis said.


"The Mythos Academy prison, right?" I asked. "I saw the sign for the morgue on the floor above this one, so I'm guessing this is the prison that Nickamedes was talking about at the ski resort."


Metis tried to smile, but her lips twisted into more of a grimace. "Correct. This is where we keep Reapers, Nemean prowlers, and other threats to students before they're shipped off to a more permanent facility." I stared at the reinforced door and the staring pair of sphinxes. My stomach twisted. Somehow, I knew exactly why Metis had brought me down here today.


"Preston Ashton's stil here, isn't he?"


Metis nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. We've been questioning him ever since we brought him back from the resort, but Preston has been ... less than forthcoming about what the Reapers are up to. I was hoping you might be able to help us, Gwen." She hesitated. "I was hoping you'd be wil ing to use your psychometry on him."


I heard what she said, but for a second, her words didn't actuAll y register. Then they sank in, and my stomach twisted even more. My knees felt like they were going to go out from under me, and I staggered back a few steps. I started to put my hand against the wAll to steady myself, but thought better of it. I had no idea what kind of memories I'd see down here, but I doubted they'd be happy ones.


"You want me to-to touch him?" I whispered.


Metis nodded again. "We've tried everything we can think of, but Preston won't talk to us, and so far, he's been resistant to All the magic we've thrown at him. With you, he doesn't have to talk.


You can see his memories whether he wants you to or not."


"So what? You want me to dig around in his brain and see what I can come up with?" I asked. "What if there isn't anything to find? What if he doesn't know anything about what the Reapers are planning? Yeah, Preston's one of them, but he mainly wanted to kil me because he was Jasmine's brother, and he thinks I murdered his sister." Metis's face hardened until her features looked as cold and remote as those of the sphinxes on the door in front of us. "Then at least we'l know that, and we can put him in a reAll prison where he belongs. But if the Reapers are planning something, like we think they are, then we're All at risk. And this is a chance to strike back against them-the first good chance we've had in a long time. Please, Gwen, I know I'm asking a lot, but we've run out of options here." I knew Metis wouldn't ask me to do this if there was any way to avoid it. She'd promised my mom she'd look out for me. More than that, she was just too good a person to ask me to do something like this unless it reAll y was a last resort. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't say no. Not if there was a chance of stopping the Reapers and saving other people, no matter how slim it was. My mom would have done the same thing if she was here, if she'd had the kind of magic that I did.


I blew out a breath. "All right. I'l do it."


"Thank you, Gwen. This means more to the Pantheon than you know."


Metis drew an old-fashioned skeleton key out of her pocket and slid it into the lock on the door. It turned with an ear-splitting screech. For a moment it seemed like the sphinxes looked in her direction, narrowing their eyes and judging whether or not the professor had the right to be down here. Apparently, they were satisfied she did, because the professor yanked open the heavy door and stepped through to the other side. I hesitated a second, then fol owed her.


The prison was larger than I'd thought it would be, given the fact that we were so far underground. It was shaped like a dome, just like the Library of Antiquities was, although with a much lower ceiling. I glanced up, but no gold or jewels adorned the top of the dome. Instead, an enormous hand holding a set of balanced scales had been carved into the rock. I shivered. Somehow, that was creepier than if the faces of All the gods and goddesses in the Pantheon had been up there, glaring down at me.


The glassed-in cel s were arranged in a circle, rising up three stories, and forming the wAll s of the prison. They were All empty, but a stone table stood in the center of the open space, directly below the carving of the hand and the scales.


That's where Preston sat, his hands shackled to the table and his legs anchored to the floor beneath it. Coach Ajax stood on one side of him, while Nickamedes hovered on the other. Preston's head hung down, and he stared at the floor.


And there was one more person in the prison: Mrs.


Raven, the lady who manned the coffee cart in the library.


She sat at a desk just inside the door, thumbing through a celebrity gossip magazine. I'd never paid much attention to her while I was working in the library, but now that I did, I realized that she was an old woman, even older than Grandma Frost.


Everything about her was extreme and opposite. Her hair was completely white, although her eyes were as black as coal. Her skin was even paler than mine, yet wrinkles painted thick black streaks All over her face.


Her fingers were long and slender, but old, faded scars marred her hands and arms. She wore a long, flowing, white gown made of a fine silk, and black combats boots adorned her feet. I noticed those in particular since she had them propped up on the desk and was leaning back in her chair. Weird. Even for Mythos.


"Why is Mrs. Raven here?" I whispered to Metis.


"Shouldn't she be in the library handing out snacks or something?"


"She helps guard the prison whenever we have someone who needs to be watched," Metis whispered back. "She's part of the academy's security council, along with Nickamedes, Ajax, and myself. And it's just Raven-no Mrs."


I eyed Mrs., er, Raven and her bizarre figure. I supposed there was more to her than met the eye, just like the sphinxes on the door. Although I had no idea what that something more could possibly be.


Both Ajax and Nickamedes looked as grim as Metis did.


Raven stared at me a few seconds, her eyes dark and curious, before going back to her magazine. Metis gestured for me to fol ow her. I swAll owed and headed toward the center of the room.


Preston looked up at the whisper of our footsteps on the stone floor. His blue eyes narrowed at the sight of me.


"Why, Gypsy, so nice of you to come visit me. I would stand but ..." He lifted his hands and rattled the chains at me.


I flinched at the harsh, ringing sound of the metAll clanking together.


"There's no way he can break those chains," Ajax said in his deep, gruff voice. "They're magicAll y reinforced. There's no way he can hurt you, Gwen. We've made sure of that." I wanted to tel him that Preston had already hurt me, that his threat against my Grandma Frost haunted my dreams, but I kept my mouth shut.


Now was definitely not the time to confess how wimpy I reAll y was.


I crept closer, staring at Preston. White blond hair, blue eyes, great body. He looked just as handsome as he had the ski resort, despite the orange jumpsuit and paper shoes he wore. But the faintest flicker of red burned deep in his gaze. I wondered if the professors could see it, too. I didn't know how I'd missed it before.


An empty chair stood on the other side of the table from Preston, and Metis pul ed it out for me. I undid the strap of my gray messenger bag from around my shoulder and set it on the floor. Then I sank down into the chair, trying to keep my hands from visibly shaking. The stone chair felt as cold as ice against my back.


"Take your time, Gwen," Metis said in a kind voice.


"There's no rush. Whenever you're ready." Preston's lips thinned out into an amused smile. "Ah, so they've brought you in to try to break me. Oh, Gypsy, trust me when I tel you that you won't like what you'l see if you use your psychometry on me."


I blinked. How did Preston know about my magic? I'd never told him about my Gypsy gift, but he was talking as if he knew All about it. Oh, we know all about you, Gwen Frost, and what you're supposed to do. Preston had said those words to me in the gloom of the construction site. I hadn't thought much about them then, but now they fil ed me with worry. What did the Reapers know about my magic that I didn't? What could I possibly do with it that would interest them?


Preston kept staring at me, expecting me to say something.


"I don't like breathing the same air as you," I finAll y snapped back. "But I make do."


I stared at his hands resting on top of the table. They were just hands, I told myself. Hands that belonged to an evil, psycho-kil er Reaper, but just hands nonetheless. Five fingers on either one. I could do this. I could handle this.


I drew in a breath and let it out. Then I reached over and grabbed his hand, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. Wanting to get Metis the information she needed so I could leave this awful place and never see Preston again.


The feelings and images flooded my mind the second my skin touched the Reaper's. Even though I didn't want to, I gritted my teeth, closed my eyes, and let the memories carry me away.


Maybe it was All my years of tracking down lost objects, of touching desks, purses, and wAll ets and trying to get specific vibes off them, so I could locate the phones, jewelry, and laptops that people had misplaced or others had stolen. But going into Preston's mind was easier than I'd thought it would be. I could feel him trying to block me, trying to think of nothing at All , just a blank wAll of white, but I went deeper, slipping past the emptiness he tried to fil his mind with.


I saw so many things-so many horrible, horrible things.


Preston fighting, Preston kil ing other people, other kids, even whipping the Fenrir wolf until its back was red with blood.


And Preston wasn't alone while he did these things.


Jasmine was right there with him most of the time.


Laughing, smiling, and kil ing alongside her brother. I could feel how much Preston had loved her, how happy he had been that she was just as vicious as he was, just as devoted to Loki. They were like two sides of the same evil coin, mirroring each other in almost every way. And I felt his burning pain, his deep anguish, when he learned that his little sister was dead. It would have made me feel sorry for him if I hadn't seen All the other evil things that he'd done, All the people he'd tortured and kil ed.


Each and every thing I saw turned my stomach, but I kept looking, searching for something I could tel Metis, something that would help her and the others stop whatever the Reapers of Chaos were planning.


Through it All , I was aware of a pair of burning red eyes fol owing me. The eyes jumped from memory to memory just like I did, watching me All the while. I knew who they belonged to now: Loki. His Reapers were the evil god's window to the mortAll realm, a way he could see out of his magicAll prison, and I could almost feel him glaring at me from inside Preston's brain. I told myself over and over again that the eyes couldn't hurt me, that Loki was locked away where he couldn't touch me, but the thought didn't comfort me as much as it should have.

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