Midnight Frost

“I think we’ve got all the details sorted out. Let’s go. We’ve still got a lot to do.”
    We grabbed our things and left the conference room. Still, just before I stepped through the door, I glanced over my shoulder a final time at the gryphon carving. For a moment, the gryphon’s head seemed to slowly swivel through the stone, until the creature was staring straight at me. Its eyes narrowed, and its claws seemed to grow longer and sharper the more I looked at it, as if it wanted nothing more than to break free from the wall, launch itself across the conference table, and tear into me—
    “Come on, Gwen!” Daphne called out.
    I blinked, and the carving was just stone once more. I shivered and hurried out of the room, not daring to look at it again.
     
    We spent the rest of the day getting ready for our trip. Rachel went back to the dining hall, and she made Rory promise to actually go to her afternoon classes. Covington took the rest of us shopping over in Snowline Ridge, and we geared up with snowsuits, hiking boots, toboggans, gloves, scarfs, backpacks, sleeping bags, climbing rope, and more. We all had our own weapons, but everyone except me bought an extra sword or a few daggers. Everyone wanted to be as ready as we could for whatever might wait for us up on the mountain.
    By the time we finished shopping, it was time for dinner, and we trooped back over to the dining hall. Ajax went with us, so we didn’t have any problems with the other kids. In fact, everyone seemed to go out of their way to give us as wide a berth as possible. Nobody wanted to mess with an adult who was as strong and as skilled a fighter as the Spartan coach.
    After that, we grabbed our luggage from the library and headed down the hill to the dorms. I’d thought that the Powers That Were would have arranged for us to stay in some empty rooms, but Ajax kept right on walking past the buildings and veered onto a path that wound over to the far side of campus. The buildings grew fewer and farther between, although the rows of pines became thicker. Eventually, we reached a small stone cottage nestled in the middle of the trees. It was fronted by a white, wooden wraparound porch. The shutters and gingerbread trim were painted a pale green, although the roof was made out of black slate. Gray smoke puffed up out of the chimney and drifted into the winter sky, mixing with the dark clouds already gathered there.
    We stepped onto the porch. The cottage door opened, and Rachel came outside, along with Rory.
    I looked at Ajax. “What’s going on?”
    “Rachel has an extra room, and she offered to put you and Daphne up for the night.” Ajax pointed to a similar structure sitting in another stand of trees farther up the hill. “That cottage is empty. The boys and I will stay there. Besides, I thought it would give you a chance to . . . talk with Rachel and Rory. About your father.”
    Oh. So he knew the whole sad story then. I wondered which one of my friends had spilled the beans to him. I’d told Daphne, who’d no doubt filled in Carson and the others.
    “Is that okay?” Ajax asked. “Or would you rather stay with the rest of us?”
    I looked at Rachel and Rory. I could feel the curiosity and tension radiating off both of them—and the longing too. “No,” I said. “I’d like to stay with them, if it’s okay with Daphne.”
    “Are you kidding?” she said. “ Of course I want to stay with them. Um, hello, nice warm cottage, beds, sheets, hot water, and, best of all, no guys around to snore in my ear all night long.”
    I wanted to point out that Daphne snored louder than a race car revved up in high gear, but I didn’t say anything.
    We said our good-byes to the guys and watched as they trudged up the hill and disappeared into the other cottage. Then, we shouldered our stuff and moved toward Rachel and Rory’s place.
    Rachel gave us a bright smile and led us inside. “I’m glad you girls are staying with us. Rory and I don’t have much company these days.”
    “Yeah,” Rory sniped. “Funny how your parents turning out to be Reapers totally kills your social life.”
    Rachel grimaced, but she didn’t contradict her niece.
    The cottage was as warm and inviting on the inside as it was cute and charming on the outside. Pale green throw rugs covered the hardwood floor, and a fire crackled merrily in the fireplace in the main room. Glass knickknacks gleamed on the tops of the antique tables, while a variety of flowers,