I didn't know what kind of Valkyrie magic she was using, whether it was just an illusion or if the door was really and truly shut. So I ran toward the next door set into the wall. It too slammed shut just before I reached it. I wrapped my hand around the doorknob and tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge. Whatever magic Jasmine had, she'd sealed us all in the library with her. Or at least made us all think that she had. Which was really the same thing as actually doing it. At least, I thought that it was. This illusion stuff made my head hurt.
Since the doors weren't working, I scurried over to one of the windows. It was locked as well, and it wouldn't budge. Outside on the quad, a flash of movement caught my eye, and I spotted Daphne and Carson walking hand in hand, making the same slow circle around the quad that I'd started to earlier tonight.
"Daphne! Carson!"
I yelled, screamed, and pounded on the glass, but they didn't hear me. They were too caught up in each other for that. I'd have to make them hear me. Frantic now, I looked around. A study table was tucked in next to the window, along with a wooden chair. I picked up the chair and slammed it into the window.
The glass erupted with a roar.
Whatever magic Jasmine had, she hadn't thought to use it to completely secure the windows, only the doors. So the chair shattered several panes of glass, leaving behind a jagged hole just above my head. I would have hoisted myself up and crawled out it, if there hadn't been a couple of iron bars in the way. So I stood on my tiptoes and got as close to the glinting shards as I dared.
"Daphne!" I screamed as loud as I could. "In here!"
My voice echoed through the quad. Daphne and Carson froze, and their heads snapped in this direction.
I waved at them, but I couldn't tell if they saw me or not. Something whistled behind me, and I ducked. Jasmine's sword slammed into the iron bars, throwing red sparks everywhere. I turned to stare at her. Jasmine had a wild look to her now. Her blond hair streamed down her face, and her once-blue eyes glowed that same eerie red that the prowler's did. Creepy.
"Stand still so I can chop off your head," she muttered.
Jasmine swung the sword at me again, and I ducked back out of the way. Again and again, she came at me, swinging the blade, but every time I managed to avoid it. Maybe some of the gym class training had sunk in after all, because I couldn't believe that I was still alive.
On her next pass, Jasmine's sword slammed into one of the bookcases and got stuck in the thick wood. Cursing, she wrapped her hands around the hilt and tried to pull it out. Since she wasn't focused on me, I ran around behind the bookshelf and rammed my shoulder into it as hard as I could.
"C'mon," I muttered, and pushed again and again, finally managing to rock it back and forth. "C'mon! C'mon!"
I gave it a final, vicious shove. With a loud, unhappy creak, the bookshelf tipped over. A second later, it landed on top of the Valkyrie, burying her under hundreds of books.
For a moment, all I could hear was the sound of my own raspy, panicked breathing and the thumping rush of blood in my ears. Then, Jasmine let out another evil laugh.
"You forgot that I'm a Valkyrie, Gypsy," she said. "I'm strong, much stronger than you are. This will only slow me down. It won't stop me from killing you. Nothing can do that now."
The heavy case began to shift back and forth, as Jasmine wiggled her way out from under it and the mountain of books I'd buried her in. I backed up, wondering what I could do now to stop her. There was nowhere to run, not really, not since I couldn't get out of the library, and it was only a matter of time before Jasmine wormed free.
I didn't know what was going on with Logan and the prowler, but I could still hear the creature yowling, which meant it wasn't dead yet. Even if Logan could kill it without dying himself, I wondered if he could defeat Jasmine, too, because she'd had the same warrior training that he'd had and if the prowler injured him, he'd be at a serious disadvantage.
I bit my lip and looked around, trying to stay calm, trying to think what my mom would do in this situation. Okay, so maybe my mom had never gone up against a crazed Valkyrie who wanted to sacrifice her slutty best friend to an evil god, but she had faced plenty of bad guys while she'd been a detective. I remembered watching her come home sometimes, take her gun off her belt, and-
My eyes narrowed. Of course. I needed a weapon.
Not that I knew how to really use a weapon of any sort, but it was better than running away from Jasmine or, worse, letting her hack me into little pieces with her sword.
My bare feet seemed to move of their own accord, and I raced back into the stacks. I didn't even really think about where I was going until I skidded to a halt in front of the glass case.
The Case-the one with the strange sword in it.
I fumbled with the clasp, hoping that it wouldn't be locked or magically sealed. To my surprise, it opened immediately and I didn't get any unwanted vibes off it. I threw back the top of The Case, reached for the sword-and stopped. I didn't know exactly what would happen if I picked it up. What kind of flashes or vibes that I might get off it. But I knew that it would be something-something big. Something that would change my life forever.
Behind me, there was an enormous roar, and Jasmine's laughter filled the library once more. She'd gotten free of the bookcase. If I didn't pick up the sword, the rest of my life was going to be short. Very, very short.
"Gypsy," Jasmine hissed, her voice echoing over to me. "I'm going to enjoy killing you."
Quick footsteps sounded, running in my direction. Time was up, so I reached down into The Case and grabbed the sword.
Chapter 22
As soon as my fingers brushed the hilt, the eye snapped open and regarded me with its gray-purple gaze once more.
"Gypsy," an old, crusty voice seemed to murmur in my head. "At last. "
Okay, so apparently it talked, too. Supercreepy, but I was too far gone now to care. My fingers closed all the way around the hilt, and I yanked the sword out of The Case. The way the hilt was designed, my hand covered the lower half of the man's face-from the mouth down. His nose hooked over my hand, a wrist guard, I think it was called, with the open eye clearly visible above that-the eye that was still staring at me. For a moment, nothing happened.
And then, the emotions hit me.
The sword was old-ancient even-in the way the Bowl of Tears was. So many things flashed through my mind. So many images. Battles, mostly. Hundreds, thousands of them, all happening in a single second. Big, small, quiet, loud. I smelled smoke and blood. Heard screams of rage and pain. Felt other swords, other blades, slicing into my own skin in a way that made me cry out in pain and completely furious at the same time.