Midnight Frost

get any big flashes off them with my psychometry. All I saw were the hundreds of kids who had touched the volumes over the years, and all I experienced was their supreme boredom, weariness, and frustration from using the books to finish their homework.
    Of course, all of those flickers of weariness and frustration didn’t make me feel any better, and my movements became more hurried, awkward, and frantic as my fear and worry for Nickamedes grew. But there was nothing I could do but keep moving, keep grabbing books, and keep flashing on them.
    Finally, I got down to the last book on my part of the list. I found it easily enough and grabbed it off the shelf—
    An image of the Reaper boy popped into my mind.
    I was so surprised that I almost dropped the book, but I managed to cradle it to my chest. I closed my eyes and concentrated, and I saw the same thing that I had before—Jason leaning over the book at one of the study tables. This was it. This was the book he’d been looking at.
    I opened my eyes and stared down at the title on the brown cover: Healing, Medicinal, and Poisonous Properties of Mythological Plants .
    My fingers trembling, I opened the book and flipped through the pages until I came to the passage that Jason had highlighted in red:

    Serket sap is an evergreen plant that is known in the mythological world for its intense poisonous properties. It is named after the
    Egyptian goddess who is associated with poisons. Serket sap can be administered in a variety of ways, including boiling it to create a dark green liquid, but the most popular method involves drying the plant’s leaves and roots, then grinding them up into a fine white powder in order to more easily use it . . .

    I stared at the left page and the picture of the small green plant, which resembled a miniature pine tree with both leaves and needles sprouting from its thin brown trunk. It looked harmless, but according to this description, it was anything but. I snapped the book shut, left the cart where it was, and ran back to the study tables.
    By this point, even more of the Protectorate guards had gathered in the library, but I pushed past them to where Metis was still standing beside Nickamedes.
    “Here,” I said, thrusting the book into her hands. “This is what they used to poison Nickamedes—Serket sap.”
    Metis looked at me, her green eyes sharp. “Are you sure?”
    I nodded. “This is the book I saw the Reaper boy looking at. This is the poison he used. It has to be. Look at this page in the middle.”
    Metis opened the book to the appropriate page, and I pointed to the drawing and highlighted passage. My fingers brushed hers, and my psychometry kicked in, letting me feel Metis’s worry for Nickamedes—and something else I never would have guessed.
    I froze, wondering if I was imagining things, but the emotions washed over me again, even stronger than before. Metis’s cold, agonizing dread that she wouldn’t be able to save Nickamedes mixed with a warm, soft, fizzy feeling that could only mean one thing—love.
    Metis? In love with Nickamedes? When had that happened? And how?
    I was so shocked that I pulled my hand away from hers. The professor nodded and closed the book. She didn’t seem to realize that I’d flashed on her—and what I’d felt.
    “All right. Thank you, Gwen. We’ll take it from here.” Metis turned to Ajax. “Let’s go. We need to get Nickamedes over to the infirmary and get started on an antidote.”
    Ajax nodded, and several of the Protectorate guards stepped forward. They helped Ajax transfer Nickamedes to a flat, plastic board, the sort that paramedics use, strapped him down to it, and hefted the board onto their shoulders, as if he were some ancient king they were transporting. A moment later, the guards left the library, carrying Nickamedes along with them.
    And all I could do was just stand there, watch them go, and hope he would be okay.

Chapter 9
    “What is taking so long?” I growled. “It’s been hours now.”
    “Actually, it’s only been about ninety minutes,” Carson pointed out.
    I glared at him, and he winced and slouched down a little more in his chair.
    Daphne rolled her eyes. “Ignore her, Carson. She’s just a little crazy right now. Well, crazier than usual. It’s going to take as long as it takes, Gwen. You’re just wearing yourself out pacing back and forth like that.”
    “I am not pacing,” I muttered.
    “Yes, you are,” Oliver said. “You have been ever