Killer Frost (Mythos Academy #6)(5)
Author: Jennifer Estep

I gave him a look. Carson winced, but he and the others fell in step behind me as I stepped through the open gate and onto campus.

My friends and I followed the ash-gray cobblestone walkway all the way up the hill to the main quad that was the heart of Mythos Academy. Five buildings stood on the quad, all made out of dark gray stone, and arranged like the points of a star—math-science, English-history, the gym, the dining hall, and the Library of Antiquities.

We headed for the library. At seven stories, it was the largest building on campus and featured a variety of towers, balconies, and statues—lots and lots of statues. Gargoyles, chimeras, dragons, a Minotaur. Mythological creatures covered the structure from the first-floor balcony all the way to the tops of the towers that jutted up into the sky. But my attention was focused on the two gryphons sitting on either side of the main library steps.

Eagle heads, lion bodies, wings tucked in next to their sides, tails curled close to their front paws. The statues looked the same as ever, but I still stopped to study them a bit more closely.

Like the sphinxes by the main gate, the gryphons’ expressions were carefully blank, as though they were playing a game with me and didn’t want to give me any indication of what they were really thinking. The gryphons had always seemed so fierce, so lifelike, but now, they just looked tired—tired and slightly sad.

I shivered. Somehow, I found their flat, noncommittal stares even creepier than if they’d been openly glaring at me and obviously thinking about busting out of their stone shells to attack me, like I always imagined they could.

“Gwen?” Logan touched my arm. “Yeah. I’m coming.”

I dropped my gaze from the gryphons, trooped up the steps, and went into the library with my friends.

Despite its dark and foreboding exterior, the inside of the Library of Antiquities had a light, airy, open feel, thanks to the white marble that rolled out in every direction and the enormous dome that arched over the main space. I glanced up. For months, all I’d been able to see whenever I peered at the ceiling were deep, dark shadows. But a few weeks ago, Nike had shown me what lay underneath the blackness—a fresco of me and my friends engaged in a great battle, each of us holding an artifact or two.

This afternoon, a bit of silver glinted through the shadows—the mistletoe and laurel bracelet that I was wearing on my wrist. My fingers crept down to the bracelet, and I started fiddling with the leaves, wondering what I was supposed to do with them. But after a few seconds, I forced myself to let go of the metal. My gaze zoomed over to Nike’s statue, which was part of the circular pantheon on the second-floor balcony, one that featured statues of all the gods and goddesses of all the cultures of the world.

A long, toga-like gown wrapped around the goddess’s body, while wings rose up and gently curved over her back. A crown of silver laurels perched on top of her head, even as the rest of her hair cascaded down in thick ringlets. Nike looked the same as ever, although her expression was as neutral as the gryphons’ had been. Whatever was going on, the goddess wasn’t going to give me any clue about it. I sighed. Sometimes, being Nike’s Champion was even more frustrating than waiting for the next Reaper attack.

“Come on, Gwen,” Daphne said, grabbing my arm and pulling me forward. “Let’s get on with this.”

She led me down the main aisle, past the shadowy book stacks that filled much of the library. Since it was Saturday, the study tables that sat on either side of the aisle were deserted, along with the coffee cart that perched off to the right. Most of the kids were over in Cypress Mountain having fun, and they wouldn’t start panicking about their homework until late Sunday afternoon. This time tomorrow, there wouldn’t be a free seat at any of the tables, and the line at the coffee cart would be even longer than the one at Kaldi’s today.

But my gaze moved past the empty tables and cart to the end of the aisle. Linus was already there, standing by the checkout counter that lay in the center of the room, along with the glass complex that housed the librarians’ offices. I looked through the glass, but I didn’t see Nickamedes sitting at his desk.

“This way,” Linus said, gesturing with his hand. “Everyone else is already waiting for us.”

We followed him around the office complex and into the back half of the library. The lights were turned down low in this section, and I couldn’t help but peer into the shadows and drop my hand to Vic’s hilt, wondering if any Reapers were hiding in the stacks, watching us from between the rows of books. I didn’t see anyone, though. I never did—until it was too late.

I thought that the others might be waiting for us at the study tables on this side of the library, but no one was here. Linus walked past the tables and led us over to a door set into the back wall of the library. He drew an old-fashioned, iron skeleton key out of one of the pockets of his gray robe and opened the door, revealing a flight of narrow stairs that spiraled downward.

“Great,” I muttered. “Another creepy basement.” Linus gave me a sharp look over his shoulder before

stepping onto the stairs. I sighed, but I had no choice but to follow him, with Daphne and Carson behind me. Logan brought up the rear and shut the door behind us.

Down, down, down we went, until it seemed like we were going to keep walking all the way through to the other side of the world. Linus used that same skeleton key to open a few more doors, as well as saying some magic mumbo-jumbo code words. Eventually, though, we reached the bottom of the stairs, walked down a short hallway, and stepped into another room.

I was expecting something similar to the prison in the bottom of the math-science building, something stark, depressing, and utterly gloomy, but dozens of lights dropped down from the ceiling, casting the entire area in a bright, golden glow. The bottom level was one enormous room that seemed to be as large as the main floor above and almost an exact, mirror image of it. And just like up there, stacks stretched out as far as the eye could see, arranged in the same, familiar pattern.

But they weren’t filled with books. At least, not all of them. Instead, clear glass cases of varying shapes and sizes covered many of the shelves from floor to ceiling. Through the glass, I could see everything from swords and staffs to fine silk garments to elaborate jeweled headdresses that some ancient kings and queens had no doubt worn.

“What is this place?” I asked.

“This,” a familiar voice sounded from somewhere deeper in the stacks, “is my reference section.”