Midnight Frost

merely a statement of fact.” She once again tilted her head to the side. “Sometimes, I think I will never truly understand mortals. They are so strange in their sentiments.”
    The gryphon screeched his agreement, and I wondered what I’d said that was so wrong. But the goddess seemed thoughtful instead of upset, so I supposed I hadn’t put my foot into my mouth too badly.
    “You were merciful to one of my gryphons,” Eir said. “One of the few mortals who has been so in a very, very long time. For that, I have a gift for you.”
    She took the wildflowers and the clump of mistletoe she was still holding and began to twist them, as if she was going to make a daisy chain with the green stems and colorful petals. A bright silver light flared, leaking out from between her fingers, almost as if the flowers were some sort of metal the goddess was working with. The light was so intense that it hurt my eyes, but I didn’t dare look away.
    “There,” Eir said, a few moments later. “It is done.”
    Something clinked , and I felt a small weight on my arm. I looked down and realized a thin silver bracelet had appeared on my right wrist. The chain itself was made out of strands of mistletoe, with several small petals dangling off it. All put together, it reminded me of a charm bracelet that Carson had given Daphne awhile back.
    The bracelet was touching my bare skin, and I waited for my psychometry to kick in—but it didn’t. In fact, I didn’t get any big flashes off the bracelet—just the same sort of calm, kind vibe that I got from Eir herself.
    Curious, I held up one of the petals. It was small, silver, and more like a leaf than a true flower, but I recognized the shape of it. My eyes flicked up. The heart-shaped leaves exactly matched the ones in the wreath on top of Nike’s head. Laurels—the symbol for victory.
    “The laurel is a curious plant,” Eir said. “And silver laurels are exceedingly rare. I’m the only one who grows them anymore, but even that has been all but forgotten—along with their properties. Mistletoe is also quite powerful, although all that mortals seem to use it for these days is kissing.”
    She made a face, as though she didn’t like the idea, then paused.
    “And . . . what are their properties?” I asked, since it seemed as if she wanted me to say something.
    “Silver laurels can be used to heal even the most grievous wounds,” Eir said. “Or they can be used to kill the mightiest foe. In some cases, silver laurels can even destroy the gods themselves.”
    My breath caught in my throat, and my fingers curled so tightly around the leaf that the metal edges pricked my skin. Was she saying—did she mean—could I possibly kill Loki with the laurels?
    When Nike had shown me the artifacts in the fresco on the ceiling of the Library of Antiquities, I’d thought that I’d been holding a silver arrow or spear, some weapon that would help me defeat the evil god. But what if what I’d seen was the bracelet? What if it was at least part of the answer? I glanced at Nike, and the goddess nodded, as if she knew what I was thinking. She probably did. She always seemed to.
    “The other interesting thing about silver laurels is that whether they heal or destroy depends entirely upon the will and intent of the user,” Eir said. “So wield them with care, Gwendolyn Cassandra Frost. Because your choices will affect us all.”
    Her green eyes bored into mine, and she held out her hand to me, as if she wanted to say good-bye. I hesitated, then brushed my fingers against hers. For a moment, her power washed over me, and I felt her wonderful kindness toward all creatures great and small, her love for her gryphons, her delight when mortals used her wildflowers to heal the sick and injured.
    And I also felt her utter ruthlessness.
    Like victory, mercy could be a great and terrible thing. Giving mercy, accepting it, rejecting it, withholding it—all of those things had a price someone had to pay. And I realized that in her own way, Eir was just as cold, terrible, beautiful, and powerful as Nike was—as all of the gods and goddesses were, including Loki.
    Then, Eir’s fingers slipped away from mine, and the feelings vanished, although I still got that same calm, kind vibe from the bracelet around my wrist. I stared at the metal leaves and vine-like chain. I wondered if Eir had given Nike the crown of laurels that the goddess of victory wore—and I wondered what I was supposed to do