Midnight Frost

hopes that we’d bring our weapons along with us?”
    “Not your weapons,” Agrona sneered. “Your artifacts . Sigyn’s bow. The Horn of Roland. The Swords of Ruslan. And, of course, Vic.”
    “Well, naturally,” the sword crowed, his voice swelling with pride. “I do put the art in artifact .”
    I looked down at him. “Really?” I whispered. “You’re really going to talk about how awesome you are at a time like this?”
    “Certainly,” Vic said. “Why wouldn’t I?”
    I rolled my eyes.
    “We knew that if we poisoned Nike’s Champion you would all be just frantic to find an antidote,” Agrona said. “So frantic that you would forget about everything else, like the fact that it was so obviously a trap. It was simply a matter of picking the right poison and making sure you went exactly where we wanted you to. Fools. Don’t you realize we’ve been watching you ever since you left North Carolina?”
    “We realized,” Ajax said. “But we had to come anyway. You made sure of that.”
    “Yeah,” Daphne chimed in. “We take care of our friends no matter what. Something the two of you wouldn’t know anything about.”
    Vivian clutched a hand to her heart. “Oh Valkyrie. I’m so very hurt by your words.”
    Daphne looked down her arrow at the other girl. “You’ll be hurt when I put an arrow through your black heart.”
    Vivian raised Lucretia. “Bring it.”
    Agrona shot Vivian another warning glare. After a moment, the Reaper girl lowered her sword, although she kept glaring at Daphne.
    “And of course you all obliged me by bringing along your artifacts, then traipsing up here to the ruins. Not only that, but you actually found the ambrosia flower, which will be a nice bonus,” Agrona said. “So sad that you only want to use it on Nickamedes. It’s quite powerful, you know. It has all sorts of uses. Why, legend says it can even heal the gods themselves.”
    Her words made me think back to the night Vivian had used my blood to free Loki at the Garm gate. The evil god had been powerful, but I’d also sensed weakness in him—that all the long centuries of being trapped in Helheim had taken their toll on him. Loki’s weakness was the reason the Reapers had tried to put his soul into Logan—so the evil god would have a young, healthy body.
    A numb feeling spread through me. “You’re going to use the ambrosia flower to make Loki stronger.”
    “Well, well, Gwen. Look at you, being all smart again. But you’re exactly right,” Agrona purred. “We are going to give the ambrosia to our lord. It won’t return him to his full strength, but it will take care of some of his . . . difficulties being in the mortal realm once again.”
    I didn’t need to glance at the others to realize they were as horrified as I was. We’d thought the Reaper trap was only about killing us, but they had a plan within a plan within a plan just like they always did. Whatever happened, whether we lived or died, we couldn’t let the Reapers take our artifacts—and we most especially couldn’t let them have the ambrosia flower.
    “Well, too bad none of that is going to happen,” I said, trying to make my voice sound stronger and more confident than I felt. “You’re not getting anything. Not one thing. Not our artifacts, not the ambrosia flower, not our lives.”
    Agrona laughed again. “Oh Gypsy. You always play the part of the fool so well, don’t you?”
    My fingers tightened around Vic’s hilt. “Maybe. But I’d like to see you try and take my sword away.”
    Agrona smiled. “Gladly.”
    She jerked her head at Vivian. I tensed, expecting the Reaper girl to raise her sword and finally rush forward and start the fight. But instead, all Vivian did was put her fingers to her lips and let out a loud, earsplitting whistle.
    Oliver gave her a mocking look. “What good do you think that’s going to do you—”
    Caw-caw-caw.
    Caw-caw-caw.
    Caw-caw-caw.
    A series of harsh cries rang out, drowning his voice. One moment, the only things in the sky were the snow-laden clouds. The next, Black rocs filled the space above the ruins. One by one, they dropped to the ground beside Vivian and Agrona, forming a solid line in front of us. There must have been more than a dozen rocs, all with a Reaper or two riding them. The Reapers’ long, black robes fluttered in the wind, while the rubber masks covering their faces seemed especially hideous, mirror images of Loki glaring at us.
    “Get ready,” Ajax