Midnight Frost (9 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Estep

Tags: #Fantasy, #Teen & Young Adult, #Science Fiction & Fantasy

BOOK: Midnight Frost
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“Well,” I finally said. “If it’s a fight the Reapers want, then that’s what we’re going to give them.”
“Gwen?” Metis asked.
I straightened up. “How soon can we get to Denver?”
Chapter 10
The answer to my question was several hours.
To my surprise, Carson had made all the arrangements. Apparently, his dad did a lot of business with wineries in North Carolina and the surrounding states, and Mr. Callahan was always traveling back and forth from one side of the country to the other. Lucky for us, Carson’s dad had flown in a few days before and was currently over in Ashland, visiting some winery there. He’d told Carson to take the jet to wherever he needed.
After a mad dash back to our dorm rooms to pack, we’d gone over to the small airport in Cypress Mountain and had flown out in the wee hours of the morning. Daphne, Carson, Oliver, and Alexei had all pulled out pillows and blankets from the overhead bins, curled up in their seats, and gone to sleep, but I’d stayed awake. Partly because I’d never flown before and was a little freaked out by the whole experience, but mostly because I didn’t want to have another nightmare and wake everyone else up with my screaming.
But the exhaustion finally caught up with me. One moment, I was staring out the window, worrying about Nickamedes and wondering whether the Reapers had really captured Logan or not. The next, I woke up with Daphne standing over me, poking her finger into my shoulder.
“Wakey, wakey,” she said. “We’re here.”
I sat up. I’d been using my coat as a blanket, and it slipped off my chest and landed on the floor. “We’re in Denver already?”
“Not Denver, a suburb,” Daphne said. “Ajax had us land here because he thought it would be a less obvious place for us to start from than the Denver airport. He’s trying to throw the Reapers off our trail for as long as possible.”
Coach Ajax was the only adult who’d come with us. Metis had to stay at the academy so she could keep using her magic on Nickamedes to fight off the poison until we returned with the antidote. Grandma Frost also remained behind to help Metis and keep an eye on Nyx. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that the Reapers might attack again while we were away, and I was glad Grandma was going to watch Metis’s back. Still, I missed her already. It was a dangerous mission I was on, but I wasn’t a little girl anymore, and I couldn’t go crying to my grandma every time something terrible happened. I was a Champion now—Nike’s Champion—and it was up to me to stop Bad, Bad Things from happening—even if I wasn’t sure I was the right person for the job.
But I had to try, for Nickamedes—especially when he was suffering because of me.
Ajax, Oliver, Alexei, and Carson were already grabbing their things, so I got up and did the same. At least, I tried to. I had to wait for Daphne to clear all five of her suitcases out of the way first.
Somehow, she had managed to pack a month’s worth of clothes in the time we’d had to go back to our rooms and grab our gear before leaving the academy. All of her luggage was pink, of course. It matched the long, heavy coat, gloves, earmuffs, and boots she was wearing, not to mention the oversized patent leather purse hanging off her arm.
“I know I forgot
something
,” Daphne muttered, opening and closing another one of her bags.
“The only things in your closet that you didn’t pack were the hangers that everything was on,” I sniped. “We’re not going to be gone that long, you know.”
“And I know that you should always pack for every possible situation,” Daphne sniffed.
I rolled my eyes.
Finally, Daphne hoisted her bags out of the way with one hand, and I managed to grab my stuff, which had been buried under hers. I pulled Vic out of my messenger bag. The sword gave a loud, jaw-cracking yawn and opened his eye. Then, he started blinking rapidly and moving his mouth up and down and wiggling his jaw from side to side.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“What do you think I’m doing? I’m trying to pop my bloody ear,” Vic said. “The change in altitude is killing me, I tell you. Killing me!”
I wanted to point out that the sword was the one who killed things, not the other way around, but I kept quiet. Finally, a minute later, something
squeaked
deep inside the metal, and Vic’s face relaxed.
“There,” he said. “All better. Now, time to take care of the jet lag. Wake me when there are Reapers to kill.”
His purplish eye snapped shut. I thought about shaking him awake, so he’d be as cranky and sleep-deprived as I was, but I decided against it. I didn’t want to listen to him complain all the way to . . . wherever it was we were going next.
I slid Vic back into my messenger bag, looped it across my chest, grabbed my duffel bag full of clothes, and plodded down the plane’s stairs with the others.
The sun was just creeping up over the tops of the mountains, banishing the gray and lavender twilight that streaked across the sky. A bluish haze colored the Rockies themselves, softening the sharp edges of the tall, rugged peaks, before giving way to the snow that crowned the very tops of the mountains. My breath frosted in the air like a cloud of diamonds, and I suddenly realized how frigid it was, but the landscape was so beautiful that I didn’t mind the cold.
“Come on,” Daphne said. “Quit gawking. We need to get moving.”
I shouldered my bags and followed the others across the tarmac. We stepped into a hangar, and heat blasted over my face, chasing away the chill. We all trailed after Coach Ajax, who was leading the way. Right before we got to the door that would let us enter the rest of the airport, Ajax turned and held his hands out wide.
“We all know the Reapers are probably already tracking us,” Ajax rumbled in his deep voice. “What we don’t know is how many spies the Reapers have, who they might be, or when they might decide to attack. So watch each other’s backs—now more than ever. I want at least two of you together at all times with your weapons handy. Don’t let yourselves get separated from each other.”
“Why do they think we’re here?” I asked. “And who is they and where exactly is here?”
“We’re going to the Denver branch of Mythos Academy,” Ajax said. “It’s located higher up in the Rockies, in a suburb called Snowline Ridge. We should arrive as classes are starting. We’ll take the day to prepare, then set out for the Eir Ruins tomorrow.”
“And what are you telling the people at the academy about why we’ve suddenly shown up?” Alexei asked.
Ajax shrugged. “That this is a special field trip for students who are interested in transferring to the Denver branch. We do these on occasion.”
“In the middle of the winter semester?” Oliver asked. “Don’t you think that’s a little weak as far as excuses go?”
The coach shrugged again. “It was the best excuse Metis and I could come up with on such short notice. Besides, the Reapers know why we’re here. There’s nothing we can do about that.”
He was right. The Reapers had wanted us to come here, and now, all that was left to do was to see how things played out—and try to survive whatever trap the Reapers had in mind.
 
We walked through the airport and stepped outside to a car rental station. Ajax must have called ahead, because a black Cadillac Escalade was waiting by the curb. Ajax signed some paperwork, took the keys from one of the workers, and got behind the wheel. Alexei slipped into the front passenger seat. Oliver and I sat in the middle row, with Daphne and Carson in the back.
Nobody spoke as Ajax drove away from the airport—we were all too busy staring out the windows, already looking for the Reapers we knew were coming. But all we saw were modest homes and quiet streets.
We’d been driving for about ten minutes when Oliver’s phone beeped, and he pulled it out of his pants pocket and stared at the screen.
“Who’s that?” I asked.
He typed out a quick message. “Just Kenzie, wondering if we’d landed yet.”
Kenzie Tanaka was another one of our Spartan friends at Mythos. He’d stayed behind to help Metis with Nickamedes, so it made sense that he’d texted Oliver, wanting an update.
“How’s Nickamedes?”
Oliver hit some more buttons on his phone, sending my question. It beeped again a minute later. “No change, according to Kenzie. Everything’s quiet there, so far.”
I let out a breath. Well, at least he hadn’t gotten any worse. If everything went according to Ajax’s plan, we’d hike up to the ruins tomorrow. Then, the day after that, we’d head back to Mythos, hopefully with the ambrosia flowers.
Oliver texted something to Kenzie. He started to put the phone away, but it beeped again.
“Who is it now?”
Oliver frowned, as if he didn’t like what the screen said this time. “Just Kenzie again. He forgot to tell me something.”
I wanted to ask if he’d heard from Logan, but I kept my mouth shut. Before we’d left the infirmary, Metis had said that she had already called Linus Quinn and told him what had happened to Nickamedes. Ajax and the other Protectorate guards had swept the academy grounds, but there had been no sign of Vivian or any other Reapers. Still, I couldn’t help worrying that Vivian and Agrona really did have Logan, despite all my friends’ assurances that he was safe with his dad.
Oliver typed in another message and put away his phone. Silence descended over the car once again, so I stared out the window. I didn’t know where we were in relation to Denver, but mountains ringed the horizon as far as I could see, although gray clouds had begun to gather around some of the higher peaks, as though a snowstorm was blowing in from the west. I didn’t see the future like Grandma Frost did, but I couldn’t help wondering if it was a sign all the same—that Reapers weren’t the only things we had to worry about.
We’d been riding for about thirty minutes, when Ajax steered the car off the main road and onto a smaller highway. Ten minutes after that, we pulled into a parking lot that fronted a train station. A sign read
Snowline Ridge Runner—Tourist trains departing daily
. The image of a red train climbing up a green mountain had been carved into the wood, complete with white puffs of smoke coming out of the engine.
“What are we doing here?” I asked.
“The roads up to the academy are narrow, winding, and littered with switchbacks,” Ajax said. “There are dozens of spots along the way that would be the perfect place for an ambush, and we’d be sitting ducks in any kind of vehicle. Metis and I agreed it would be safer if we took the train. Lots of Mythos folks use it to get down to Denver and then back up the mountain to the academy again. We have a better chance of blending in with the crowd this way, especially since some of the students were in the city yesterday attending a weapons tournament and are returning to the academy this morning.”
“That sounds like you and your buses, Gwen,” Carson said in a cheery voice.
“Yay for public transportation,” I said.
We got out of the car, grabbed our bags, and headed into the train station. The inside was nicer than I expected, with lots of gleaming wooden benches and old-fashioned brass rails running alongside them, dividing the seats into various sections. The walls were made out of the same light, varnished wood as the benches, while the floor was an off-white marble with flecks of gold shimmering in it. A series of ticket counters took up the back wall, but a wide strip of white marble ran above the windows—one that featured dozens of carvings.
Many of the figures were the same creatures I walked by on a daily basis at the academy—dragons, basilisks, gargoyles, chimeras, even a Minotaur. But there were other figures depicted too—bears, wolves, buffalo, coyotes, rabbits, porcupines. All ten feet tall and frighteningly lifelike, as though they were about to bust out of their stone shells and leap down into the middle of the floor.
Once I spotted the carvings, I noticed all of the other things I’d missed before. Two suits of armor, both clutching giant battle-axes, stood on either side of the water fountains, while a series of paintings of some bloody mythological battle hung on the wall beside the doors that led out to the tracks. Small wooden carvings of mythological creatures perched in glassed-in recesses in the walls, all staring out at the passengers who milled through the waiting area.
The carvings, the statues, the paintings, the suits of armor. In a way, it was eerily familiar—and strangely comforting. When I’d first gone to Mythos, I hadn’t thought I belonged at the academy, but now I couldn’t imagine not being part of the mythological world. The carvings and statues told me I was in my element—so to speak.
We had thirty minutes to wait until the train arrived. The others pulled out their cell phones and started checking their messages, but I wandered over and plucked a brochure out of a rack next to one of the ticket counters. I got a vague flash of other people flipping through the pages, but that was all. The sort of small vibe I would expect, since dozens of folks had grabbed the same slip of paper before putting it back into its slot on the rack.
I scanned through the photos and realized that Snowline Ridge seemed very similar to Cypress Mountain. Both suburbs housed a variety of expensive designer shops, coffeehouses, and bookstores. The only difference was that Snowline Ridge also featured a high-end ski resort that catered to tourists. There was no mention of the academy in the brochure.
I was almost finished reading the information when I got the sense that someone was watching me. It felt as if I could see someone hovering at the edge of my vision, staring right at me. But when I snapped my head in that direction, all I saw was the usual ebb and flow of folks moving through the station. No one seemed to be paying any attention to me at all.
I sighed and slid the brochure back into the rack. I started to head over to my friends when I noticed a girl leaning against the wall a few feet away. She was about my age, seventeen or maybe even a year younger, and her glossy black hair was pulled back into a sleek, short ponytail. She wore black boots and designer jeans topped by a white turtleneck sweater and a forest-green leather jacket that made her look both tough and pretty at the same time. A dark green messenger bag lay on the floor at her feet.

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