Midnight Frost

it had in my dreams. She must be wearing more of the Apate jewels she’d stolen from the Library of Antiquities. The ones she’d used to control Logan and turn him against me.
    But the thing that caught my eye was her right hand. It almost looked like one of the roc’s curved claws. Agrona’s fingers were purple, swollen, and twisted together at an awkward angle. She noticed me staring at her hand, and she scowled and dropped it down out of sight, not wanting me to see her weakness.
    I frowned, wondering what was wrong with her hand, and then I remembered—I’d done that to her.
    During the fight at the Aoide Auditorium, I’d used Vic to smash Agrona’s hand to try to destroy the heart-shaped Apate ruby she’d been wearing as a ring. It looked like her hand hadn’t fully healed from the injury. It must have been because I’d used Vic to break her fingers. The damage was incurable since he was a powerful artifact in his own right. Maybe it was wrong, but a wave of dark satisfaction filled me that I’d been able to hurt Agrona like that. She deserved it for what she’d done to Logan and his dad. She deserved that—and worse.
    “Agrona,” Ajax growled. “I should have known you’d be behind this.”
    She smiled, but the expression was anything but pleasant. “So nice to see you again too, Ajax. Tell me, how is my dear stepson doing? I’m disappointed not to see Logan here among your little band of warriors.”
    “He’s fine,” I cut in before anyone could say anything. “Despite what you did to him.”
    Agrona laughed. “Of course he is. He’s so fine that he’s not by your side like you want him to be. Right, Gypsy?”
    I didn’t say anything, but once more, my stomach tightened with worry that the Reapers had somehow captured Logan, like Vivian had claimed. I held my breath, waiting for Agrona to crow about how Logan was being tortured to death right now.
    Agrona must have seen the hurt, anger, and fear in my face because she laughed again and waved her good hand in the air. “No matter. Logan isn’t important anyway. Not anymore. But some of you are—or rather the things you brought with you.” Her green eyes focused on Vic, and a spark of jealousy flickered in her gaze.
    Maybe it was Agrona’s covetous look or maybe it was the way the weak winter sun glinted off Vic’s blade, but I flashed back to two days ago when I’d been staring up at the flat ceiling inside the Library of Antiquities. Instead of the fresco of my friends and me fighting the Reapers, I’d only been able to see the weapons we carried—not who was actually wielding them.
    My eyes went from one of my friends to the next. Daphne holding Sigyn’s bow, ready to let loose the arrow nocked on the golden strings. Alexei slowly twirling the Swords of Ruslan around and around in his hands. Carson with the Horn of Roland hanging off the side of his bag. Me with Vic in my hand and Ran’s net stuffed into my backpack.
    “Artifacts,” I whispered. “That’s what this is all about.”
    Agrona raised an eyebrow, apparently surprised that I’d figured it out. She glanced at Vivian, who shrugged.
    “I didn’t say anything,” Vivian said. “I was waiting for your grand entrance.”
    Agrona shot her a pointed glare, but Vivian gave her an angelic smile in return. After a moment, Agrona turned back to me.
    “Well, I hate to ruin the surprise, but, yes, Gypsy, this is all about artifacts,” she said. “According to my spies, you’ve been searching for artifacts lately—artifacts that I am very, very interested in. And surprise, surprise, you’ve actually managed to get your hands on at least one of them that I know of—Ran’s net. What made you decide to start looking for artifacts?”
    I kept my face blank. I wasn’t going to tell her about the mission Nike had given me to find artifacts and keep them out of the Reapers’ hands.
    Agrona shrugged when she realized I wasn’t going to respond. “Your answer doesn’t really matter. All that does is that you walked right into my trap, just like I thought you would.” Her eyes met mine. “At first, I was disappointed you didn’t drink the poison I’d so thoughtfully sent your way, but this will work out even better. Now, we won’t have to figure out some way to steal your sword from the academy. We’ll just take it from your cold, dead body.”
    “That’s why you poisoned Nickamedes?” Carson asked, pushing his glasses up his nose. “To get us here? In