Touch of Frost (Mythos Academy #1)(43)
Author: Jennifer Estep

My violet eyes flicked back to the dark offices. Maybe if Nickamedes wasn’t here, I could just leave and forget about working my shift-

Something moved off to the right, heading quickly in my direction. I stifled a scream and turned . . .

To see Nickamedes come striding out of the stacks, several large, heavy books in his hands.

I leaned against the nearest table and sighed, my hand going up to my heart, as if I could somehow slow it back down to its normal speed just by touching my chest. Nickamedes’s black brows drew together, pinching the rest of his face.

"Is something wrong, Gwendolyn?" Nickamedes said in his arch tone, putting the books down onto another table. "You’re looking a little pale, even for you."

He was one to talk. Nickamedes had skin so white that he could have passed for a vampire, if they actually existed. Maybe they did. I didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t anymore.

Nickamedes’s blue eyes checked the clock mounted behind the counter. I sighed. I knew what was coming.

"You’re ten minutes late," the librarian sniffed. "Again."

My previous unease vanished, replaced, as always, by annoyance. How could anyone be that prissy all the time?

"Oh, don’t get your panties in a wad," I muttered. "It’s not like there’s anyone in here besides the two of us."

Nickamedes’s gaze sharpened. "What was that, Gwendolyn?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Well then," Nickamedes replied. "I think it’s time that you get to work. I’ve got several dozen books that need shelving before we close for the night."

He pointed over to the checkout counter, where three metal carts crammed with books sat. I just sighed again. So much for leaving early.

For the next hour I pushed the heavy, squeaky carts back and forth through the library, putting all the books back into their proper places in the stacks. And, of course, every single cart had a loose wheel that pulled either this way or that, which meant that I had to wrestle with them every time I tried to move the carts down the aisles.

Eventually, my path took me past The Case, as I had come to think of it-the one with the strange sword inside it. I should have just shoved my squeaky cart right on past it, but I found myself stopping to stare down at the weapon again.

It looked the same as always-a long blade made out of silver metal. Maybe it was just me and all the weirdness that had been going on the past few days, but the man’s face seemed even more pronounced in the hilt than ever before, as if he was an actual person who just happened to be resting his cheek against the metal. I half-expected the eye on the hilt to pop open and glare at me again. I held my breath, but that didn’t happen.

Still, for some reason, the sword made me think about all the myths that my mom had read to me when I was a kid. She’d never told me any fairy tales, just myths, which I’d always thought was kind of weird. Maybe my mom had known something that I hadn’t-like the fact that I’d wind up at Mythos someday-but she’d always insisted on reading myths to me. The stories where the hero always knew the answer to a tricky riddle or figured out how to vanquish the big, bad unbeatable monster. Like all it would take would be the right person touching the sword in front of me and Stuff Would Happen, just like it always did in the myths.

I was suddenly aware of this weird charge in the air, like static electricity slowly building and building around me. My palms itched, and I had a sudden urge to open The Case and pick up the sword. I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like I actually knew how to use the weapon or anything. Not like Logan Quinn. Still, something made me want to pick it up. It was almost like I needed to pick it up. Mesmerized, my fingers stretched out toward The Case-

"Gwendolyn!" Nickamedes’s voice boomed through the library, echoing up to the ceiling and back down again. "You’ve got five minutes to finish shelving those books. Hurry up!"

Startled, I snapped out of my trance, dropped my hand, and backed away from The Case. What had I been thinking? I didn’t know whose sword that was or what kind of psycho-killer vibes might be attached to it. The last thing I needed to do tonight was touch something and have another screaming fit, thanks to my psychometry. Geez, Gwen. Pull yourself together.

"Gwendolyn!" Nickamedes shouted again.

I rolled my eyes, walked back over to the cart, and steered it farther down the aisle. Still, for some reason, I turned around and gave the sword one more longing glance before I rounded the corner and it disappeared from sight.

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Thirty minutes later, I found myself standing outside Valhalla Hall, staring up at the gray stone building and the ivy that wrapped around it from top to bottom. Only this time, instead of sneaking in to steal Jasmine’s laptop, I was actually here as an invited guest. Weird, how things could change in the space of a few days.

A Valkyrie I recognized as a third-year student was on her way out, so I was able to step inside without having to hit the intercom button by the front door and ask Daphne to buzz me in.

I walked into the same living room that I’d been in before, the one with all the recliners, couches, and TVs. It was after six now, and some of the other girls had already come down to the common room to wait for their dates, since the dance started at seven. They all perched carefully on the edges of their chairs, careful not to wrinkle their dresses, as they eyed each other and gossiped.

Everyone had seriously glammed up for the occasion, with long, slinky, glittery dresses that I could tell were wicked expensive and jewelry that sparkled too much not to be real. No rhinestones here at Mythos, that was for sure. Everyone’s hair was also done just so, their makeup was picture-perfect, and their shoes, purses, and cell phones had all been color-coordinated to go with their gowns. It was all very matchy-matchy.

I stared out at the sea of diamonds, sequins, and glossy pouty lips. I hadn’t thought the homecoming dance would be this formal. This was like all the proms at my old school rolled into one-times ten. It was just … dazzling. It took me a few seconds to quit blinking and staring at all the shiny objects.

A few of the girls looked at me, but once they saw that I wasn’t dressed up for the dance and thus they couldn’t critique who and what I was wearing, they turned back to their friends. I put my head down, hurried through the room, and headed up the steps.

And almost ran right into Morgan McDougall.

The Valkyrie was coming down the stairs just as I was going up. Morgan looked gorgeous and totally slutty at the same time. Her skintight gown matched the deep black of her hair, while smoky shadow rimmed her hazel eyes. Her lips were a crimson heart in her pretty face. The front of her dress had some sort of wire in it that pushed her boobs up to impressive heights, while the slit in the leg almost went all the way up to the promised land. I’m sure Samson Sorensen would approve of it-and so would every other guy at the dance.