Touch of Frost (Mythos Academy #1)(27)
Author: Jennifer Estep

I peered over Daphne’s shoulder at the screen. Sure enough, Jasmine had written an essay about the Bowl and the fact that Nickamedes was taking it out of storage and putting it on display at the Library of Antiquities. I scanned through the report, but it didn’t tell me anything that Professor Metis hadn’t earlier. Maybe I’d been wrong. Maybe Jasmine had just had the Great Artifacts book in her room so she could do her report.

But that still didn’t tell me why she was at the library that night. Had she just wanted another look at the Bowl? If so, why? Why then? So late at night when nobody else was around?

"Hey," I asked Daphne, "do you know what Jasmine was doing in the library that night? Why she was there? I remember seeing the four of you in there earlier-you, Jasmine, Morgan, and Samson. Why did she come back?"

Daphne shrugged. "We went back to our dorm and hung out awhile, watching TV and texting. Jasmine said she thought that maybe she’d left her sweater at the library and she was going to go back to look for it before the library closed. That was the last time that I saw her."

A shadow fell over Daphne’s face, and she drummed her fingers on the laptop, causing pink sparks to flash and flicker around the room like tiny fireflies. I plopped back down on the bed, still trying to recover from having touched the photo and feeling all of Jasmine’s pent-up anger, jealousy, and rage.

I tried to think what my mom, the detective, would do in a situation like this, where she would go from this dead end that I’d come up against. But nothing came to mind.

"Well, thanks for your help," I said. "I, uh, appreciate it."

Daphne took that as her cue to leave. She stood, picked up her designer purse from where she had set it down on the floor, and slung the oversize bag on her shoulder. Then, the Valkyrie looked at me.

"What are you going to do now?" she asked. "Because all you have is a myth-history report, a torn-up photo, and some feelings. It doesn’t exactly tell you what’s going on. Face it, Gwen. Some Reaper broke into the library to steal the Bowl of Tears, and Jasmine had the bad luck to get in his way. That’s why she got killed. There’s no big mystery, conspiracy, or whatever you think. These things just happen at Mythos."

I wanted to ask her why bad things like that happened here, why all the students were expected to grow up and take part in some stupid ancient war between the gods. Why didn’t the gods and goddesses just fight it out among themselves and leave the rest of us alone? But Daphne would probably just give me the same answer that Carson had. The two of them had grown up with all this talk of magic. It was natural to them, even if it wasn’t to me.

So I just shrugged. "I don’t know."

She nodded. "Well, good luck with it, I suppose."

I nodded back at her, and she headed for my bedroom door.

"Daphne."

She turned to look at me.

"You really should give Carson a chance. Because he happens to be crazy about you." I didn’t know why I was telling her this. Maybe because Daphne had actually been kind of cool about this whole thing, even if I had blackmailed her into helping me.

She frowned. "How do you know that?"

"Because when I touched that rose charm, the one that fell behind the desk when you picked up the bracelet?"

She nodded.

"Well, I didn’t just feel your emotions. I felt Carson’s, too. He really bought that bracelet for you, Daphne. He just told you that story about Leta Gaston to see what you’d say, to see if you actually liked the bracelet or not. He wanted to give it to you and ask you to the homecoming dance that night, but he chickened out."

Daphne’s mouth fell open in surprise, and hope and wonder flashed in her black eyes. "Carson-Carson likes me? Really? He really likes me? You’re not just making it all up?"

I shook my head. "He really likes you; I promise. I see things, remember? Trust me, I know."

A goofy, dreamy sort of grin spread across Daphne’s face. Then, she realized that I was still watching her, and she pressed her lips together into a tight line once more.

"You know what, Gwen? You might be okay, for a total geek with absolutely no fashion sense."

With those words and a small, sly smile the Valkyrie turned and left my bedroom. The strangest thing was that I found myself grinning back at her as she closed the door.

Chapter 11

I didn’t get much sleep that night, mainly because I was still feeling the aftereffects of touching the ripped-up photo, still feeling the echoes of Jasmine’s rage and the massive migraine it had given me.

Maybe I should have known better by now. After all, my Gypsy gift had let me see and feel a lot of things over the years-the good, the bad, and the just plain awful. But I still couldn’t believe that Jasmine Ashton, the pretty, perfect rich girl who seemed to have everything, could feel that much rage at her best friend. Even if she did think that Morgan had something going on with Samson. Guys. They so weren’t worth the drama.

My lack of sleep put me in a grouchy mood the next day, especially when it was time for my fifth-period gym class.

I hated gym class.

Going to a school full of the descendants of mythological warriors was bad enough. But the Powers That Were actually expected me to be coordinated, too. Gym class at Mythos was completely different from what it had been back at my old school. There were no basketballs, softballs, or volleyballs in sight.

There were too many weapons crowded into the gym for that.

Like everything else at Mythos, the gym was enormous, with a ceiling that soared several hundred feet into the air. Colorful banners announcing various academy championships over the years dangled down from the rafters, while glossy wooden bleachers ringed the gym on two sides. Thick mats lined the floors, hiding the squeaky basketball court from sight, and racks of weapons butted up against one of the walls. Swords, daggers, bows, staffs, and other things that I didn’t even know the names for but that looked like they would cut you to the bone if you so much as touched them.

The point of gym class at Mythos wasn’t to score the most or run the most laps like it had been back at my old school. Oh no. Here? You were actually supposed to learn how to use all the weapons on the wall. How to kill, maim, and torture your opponent, whoever it might be.

At the moment, though, I was the one being tortured.

"Hee-yah!" the girl in front of me screamed before darting forward, raising her sword high, and bringing it down toward my head with every intention of killing me dead, dead, dead.

I winced, backed up, and raised my own sword. Her weapon hit my blade, the sharp clanggg of it reverberating all the way up my hand and into my shoulder. The sword slid from my suddenly numb fingers and thumped onto the mat, the way it had five times already in the last five minutes.