I'd met Nike a few weeks back, during the whole Jasmine situation. The goddess had appeared to me in the library and asked me to be her Champion, to be her hero here in the mortal realm, to help her fight Reapers of Chaos and other assorted bad guys.
The statue looked the same as Nike had the night she'd shown herself to me-hair fal ing past her shoulders; a long, flowing gown covering her strong, slender body; a crown of laurels resting on top of her head; feathery wings attached to her back. The goddess was the embodiment of victory, and she was cold, hard, fierce, and beautiful, al at the same time.
"Hi, Nike," I said in a low voice. "Hope you're having a good day up there on Mount Olympus or wherever you are.
You know, eating lots of ambrosia, playing harps-things like that. Whatever goddesses do to have fun." The statue didn't do or say anything, and I didn't real y expect it to. Stil , every time I came into the library, I stopped a moment to speak to the goddess. I didn't know if she actual y heard me or not, but it made me feel a little better. Like maybe Nike was up there watching over me.
Like maybe I was real y worthy of the magic and trust she'd given to me.
Like maybe I real y could do some good as her Champion.
I turned and headed for the center of the library. A long checkout counter split the main floor into two and separated one side of the enormous domed room from the other. A series of glassed-in offices lied behind the counter, while the open floor in front of it featured long tables for students to sit and study at.
There was also a freestanding cart that sold coffee drinks, fruit smoothies, and sugary snacks. I breathed in, enjoying the warm, rich smel of the coffee mixing with the dry, slightly musty odor of the books.
The curved ceiling of the library arched high overhead, and it always seemed to me like the building was much tal er than its seven floors, like the library just kept going up and up and up until it touched the clouds. Other students claimed there were amazing frescoes painted on the ceiling, ones that depicted various mythological battles and gleamed with gold, silver, and jewels, but I'd never been up to the top floor to look for myself. From down here, al I could see were shadows.
I'd barely put my messenger bag in a slot underneath the checkout counter when a door opened in the office complex behind me, and Nickamedes appeared.
"You're late, Gwendolyn," Nickamedes snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. "As usual." Nickamedes was the head honcho at the Library of Antiquities. If you were just looking at him, you'd think that he was cute, handsome even, with his black hair and blue eyes. For a fortysomething-year-old guy, anyway.
But then he opened his mouth, and you realized just how uptight, prissy, and snobby he real y was. The library was Nickamedes's whole world, and he loved everything in here with an intense, devoted, detailed obsession. Wel , everything but the students.
Nickamedes didn't real y like anyone touching his precious books and artifacts, not even for class assignments.
But the librarian was sort of stuck with me. Back when I'd first started going to the academy, Professor Metis had thought that working in the library would help me meet other kids and make friends. Not so much. Basical y, I was Nickamedes's free slave labor-and there was nothing he enjoyed more than bossing me around.
Nickamedes had never real y liked me and my smart mouth, but he'd come to actively hate me a few weeks ago.
Jasmine Ashton had tried to kil me in the library, and, wel , we'd torn up a lot of stuff during our struggle. Nickamedes despised anything that damaged his precious books.
Seriously, the dude wouldn't even crack one of their spines.
I'd done far worse than that. I'd pretty much trashed the entire first floor. In fact, I was stil shelving books from where I'd shoved a case of them onto Jasmine to try to keep her from running me through with her sword.
"Wel , Gwendolyn?" Nickamedes barked, tapping one of his long, pale fingers against his opposite elbow. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
I rol ed my eyes. I couldn't exactly tel the librarian that I'd snuck off campus to go see my Grandma Frost, since that was against one of the Big Rules. But maybe I could sweeten up his sour mood. I rustled around in my bag, drew out the metal tin of cookies, popped off the top, and held it out to him. Surely the smel of chocolate would bring a smile to even his sharp, angular face.
"Cookie?" I asked in a hopeful voice.
Nickamedes's expression just darkened. "You brought unauthorized food into the library, Gwendolyn?" I sighed, knowing that I was going to get the mother of al lectures now. Ah, well, I thought, biting into a cookie while Nickamedes glared at me. It had been worth a shot.
Chapter 5
After a five-minute, ear-blistering lecture from Nickamedes about what food items could and could not be brought into the library, I got to work. Mostly, I sat behind the counter, checked out books, and looked up other ones in the computer system.
In addition to studying, the library was one of the main places on campus where students came to Hang Out and Be Seen. And that wasn't the only reason kids gathered here-lots of them liked to sneak off into the shadowy stacks to hook up. Occasional y, Nickamedes made me dust and clean the bookshelves, along with the glass artifact cases hidden back among the stacks. Every single time I'd find more used condoms than I did crumpled-up pieces of paper and lost pens. Yucko. I wouldn't want to do it in the library where anyone could walk by at any second, but at Mythos, it was considered some sort of thril .
Whatever.
Tonight, more kids than usual crowded into the library, since everyone was trying to get their homework done before taking off for the big weekend getaway. Al the gossip was about the Winter Carnival. I heard more than a few excited comments as I moved through the library shelving books. Everyone seemed excited about making the trek over to one of the area ski resorts-and al the fun they had planned for when they got there.
"Did you hear? Samson Sorensen is throwing another massive party, just like he always does. There'l be at least five kegs there, maybe more."
"I know a guy who says he can get his hands on some primo pot."
"I wonder how many guys Morgan McDougal wil sleep with during the weekend. Two? Twelve? Twenty?" That last comment was made by Helena Paxton, an Amazon from my English lit class with sleek, caramel-colored hair and eyes. It was fol owed by a round of vicious snickers and sharp, sly looks over at Morgan, who was studying by herself at a table close to the checkout counter.
With her black hair, hazel eyes, and curvy body, Morgan was one of the most gorgeous girls at Mythos-and she also happened to be the academy's most notorious slut.