Dark Frost (Mythos Academy #3)(20)
Author: Jennifer Estep

The band geek shrugged. He didn’t have an answer for that anymore than I did.

I sighed and stabbed my fork into the delicate china bowl on the table in front of me. I wasn’t sure exactly what was in the bowl. Oh, there was some elaborately shaped pasta floating around in there and what looked like seared steak mixed with a spicy marinara sauce, but you could never really tell at Mythos. Here, the mystery meat was just as likely to be escargot as anything else.

Yep, escargot. That’s what the dining hall served for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, along with things like liver, veal, and lobster. Seriously, liver for breakfast. Yucko. But the academy chefs would be more than happy to whip up a liver-and-onions omelet flavored with goat cheese and some obscure, bizarre spices if that’s how you wanted to start your day. I don’t know why the Powers That Were didn’t lighten up and serve some regular food-or have it catered in. Some days, I would have happily done extra homework just to have a triple chocolate milkshake from the Pork Pit restaurant.

Given the slim pickings and lack of normal food on the lunch line, I usually opted for some sort of grilled chicken salad. It was kind of hard to mess up raw vegetables, but the chefs at Mythos did their very best, cutting the carrots, lettuce, and tomatoes into froufrou shapes and marinating them in weird sauces. Today, I’d wanted something warm, given the January cold outside, so I’d opted for the pasta. Now, I was regretting my decision.

I pushed the bowl away and reached for the dessert I’d grabbed-chocolate mousse, one of my favorites. At least, I thought it was chocolate mousse. The parfait glass was so small there was only about a spoonful of dessert actually inside it. The Powers That Were totally skimped on portion size when it came to the sweet stuff.

I supposed I should be grateful that a chef hadn’t come over and tried to flambe the mousse. For some reason, the chefs at Mythos liked to play with fire, and there was always at least one dessert on the menu that needed to be blowtorched before you were allowed to eat it. The chefs here so could have learned a thing or two from Grandma Frost when it came to baking.

A series of high-pitched giggles caught my ear, and I looked for the source of the sound. Like everything else at Mythos, the dining hall was totally pretentious, and there were more suits of armor in here than there had been in the entire Crius Coliseum. The metal knights clutched their gleaming swords and battle-axes, standing guard against the walls, right under the oil paintings that showed all sorts of mythological feasts.

Round tables covered with fine white linens, dainty dishes, platinum silverware, and crystal vases full of fresh narcissus flowers filled the dining hall, which looked more like a five-star restaurant than a school cafeteria. Adding to the atmosphere was the open-air indoor garden that took up the center of the room. Olive, almond, and orange trees towered up out of the black soil, while a series of grape vines twisted over and through them all. Here and there, statues of wine, food, and harvest gods like Dionysus and Demeter peeped out from behind the trees, their stone eyes fixed on the students scarfing down their expensive entrees.

The giggles sounded again, and this time, I was able to pinpoint the origin-the table where Logan was sitting. A girl, one of the first-year students who’d been in the gym this morning, hovered by the table the Spartan was sharing with Kenzie and Oliver. The girl said something to Logan, then handed him a pen and a piece of paper. The Spartan shifted in his chair, looking uncomfortable, but Kenzie and Oliver had their hands over their mouths, like they were about three seconds away from laughing.

"Did Logan just give that girl an autograph?" Daphne asked, drumming her fingers on top of the table and making pink sparks of magic shoot out everywhere.

Carson hesitated. "That’s what it looks like."

The girl gave Logan another smile before giggling again and rushing off. She hurried over to the table where her own friends were sitting and showed them the piece of paper. This time, they all erupted in a fit of giggles.

"Geez," I muttered. "It’s a wonder they all don’t just go over there, take off their shirts, and ask him to sign their bras."

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "Jealous, much?"

I sank a little lower in my chair. "Not jealous. Well, not exactly. It’s not like I have any claim on Logan. We haven’t talked, you know, about anything."

I’d wanted to talk to the Spartan this morning during weapons training, but Kenzie and Oliver had shown up before I’d had the chance. Afterward, Logan had rushed out of the gym, saying he needed to go back to his dorm room before classes started. I got the feeling Logan was trying to avoid me as much as possible. I wondered if it had anything to do with what Grandma Frost had said to him yesterday-about how something hadn’t been his fault in the past and wasn’t going to be his fault in the future, either.

The Valkyrie raised her eyebrow. "Oh, suck it up, Gwen. The Spartan gave you a diamond necklace for Christmas. I’d say that’s a pretty good indication he likes you. And he did fight by your side in the coliseum."

I sighed. "I know, I know. I just wish-I just wish I knew where things stood between the two of us. Once and for all."

I watched as another girl from the table of first-year students got up, walked over to Logan, and got him to give her an autograph as well. I rolled my eyes.

"You’d at least think they’d ask us all for autographs," I muttered. "We were there, too, and you saved Carson’s life."

"Something I will be forever grateful for," Carson said, squeezing Daphne’s hand.

Instead of being pleased by the band geek’s soft, sweet words, something uncertain flashed in Daphne’s eyes. After a moment, she slipped her hand out of his.

"I just remembered I need to run over to the library and get a reference book for my next class," Daphne said. "See you guys later."

The Valkyrie got to her feet, grabbed her Dooney & Bourke purse, and stalked out of the dining hall, leaving pink sparks of magic flashing in her wake.

"What’s wrong with her?" I asked.

Carson shrugged his lean shoulders. He didn’t know either. Daphne could be quick to anger, and she definitely had a temper, but she’d never just gotten up and walked away before-especially when she didn’t seem to be mad about anything. Strange.

More giggles sounded, and my fingers tightened around my fork as yet a third girl approached Logan.

I wasn’t the only one who noticed the Spartan’s new fan club. A few tables over from where Carson and I sat, Savannah glared at Logan. Savannah was sitting with Talia Pizarro and Vivian Holler, and I remembered what Daphne had said about the three of them being friends.