"These wolves are the descendants of Fenrir, the very first and most powerful wolf who fought alongside the members of the Pantheon during the Chaos War," Metis said. "Over the years, the Reapers have managed to trap most of the wolves, but a few of them can stil be found in the wild today, including right here in the North Carolina mountains."
For a moment the drawing flickered on the page, and the pen-and-ink wolf turned its head until it was staring straight at me. The black ink oozed down, then back up, and I realized the monster was smiling-and showing me each and every one of its needle-sharp teeth.
I shivered and looked away. Sometimes my Gypsy magic went a little haywire and made me see and feel things that weren't real y there, even when I wasn't touching an object. Or maybe it was just my own warped imagination working overtime today.
Either way, it was al I could do to keep from closing the book and throwing it across the room.
"What you need to understand is that these creatures didn't start out evil," Metis said, her soft green gaze going from one student's face to another. "The Reapers twisted them over the centuries, caged and tortured them until they turned into something else completely."
"Even the Nemean prowlers?" Carson asked from in front of me.
"Even the prowlers," Metis answered. "Although, keep in mind that while the Reapers have trained the creatures to kil , they stil have free wil in the end, just like we al do.
There have been rare instances where prowlers, wolves, and other creatures have turned against the Reapers.
Ultimately, it's up to the creatures as to whom they serve and what they do. Even the gods themselves can't force a person or creature to do something. We al have free wil -
we al make our own choices about the kinds of people we are and how we choose to live our lives." Free wil ? Whatever. The Fenrir wolf grinning in my book looked plenty evil to me, just like al the other monsters did. I didn't care if it had free wil or not.
Metis asked us to turn the page and started talking about the next mythological nightmare. Monsters might not be my favorite topic, but I listened to every word the professor said, and took pages of notes. When I'd first come to the academy, I'd hated myth-history, but now it was my favorite class. At the beginning of the semester I didn't think that I had any connection to the warrior kids here. But now I knew that I did-and I wanted to be like them.
Maybe it was because my mom had been a police detective and had spent her life helping people before she'd died. Maybe it was because she and my Grandma Frost had both been Nike's Champions before me. Or maybe it was just everything I'd seen and heard since coming to Mythos. But I wanted to be a real warrior like the other students were. I wanted to be as fierce, strong, and brave as they were, as my mom and grandma had been. I wanted to keep the world and everyone in it safe from Reapers and Loki and monsters.
I wanted to do Big Things with my Gypsy gift, even if I didn't exactly know what those Big Things were just yet-or how I was even going to do them in the first place.
Class flew by, and it seemed like we'd only been talking a few minutes when the final bel of the day rang. I blinked and looked up from my notebook. Al around me the other kids got to their feet, grabbed their books, and raced toward the door.
Carson threw his backpack over his shoulder and turned to look at me. "I guess I'l see you tomorrow out on the quad, when we al leave to go to the carnival."
"Yep," I said. "Bright and early in the freezing cold." The band geek gave me a shy smile and left the room.
I took my sweet time stuffing my things into my messenger bag, so that everyone else had left by the time I was done, leaving me alone with Metis. I walked over to the podium where the professor was sliding her own papers into a battered leather briefcase. She looked up at the squeak of my sneakers on the floor.
"Hel o, Gwen." Metis smiled at me. "How are you and Vic today?"
Like the other kids, I usual y carried my own personal weapon with me during the day. It was just easier than having to walk al the way back to my dorm to get it before my fifth-period gym class. In my case, that weapon was Vic.
The hilt of the silver sword stuck out of the top of my messenger bag. Vic's eye was closed, and I knew he was sleeping.
Vic had told me more than once that he found the sound of Metis's soft voice quite soothing.
The professor knew al about Vic and the fact that the sword could talk because she was a Champion just like me. Metis served Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom.
She'd even showed me the weapon Athena had given her
-a thick staff made out of a polished golden wood. Al the Champions-good and bad-received a weapon from their respective god or goddess, and al of them were inscribed with some sort of saying relevant to that god or goddess. Only a Champion could read the words on her own weapon, though.
Metis had once told me that the phrase "In wisdom, there is great strength" was carved into her staff, while Vic had his own saying etched into his blade
-"Victory always."
"We're doing fine," I said.
"And how is your training with Logan going?"
"Um, good. Just ... good."
"Good" if you considered the fact that I stil couldn't survive more than a minute sparring with Logan. The Spartan had kil ed me fifteen times this morning before he'd final y taken pity on me and let me practice archery with Kenzie and Oliver. That, at least, I was getting a little better at. Al I had to do was think of Daphne, and I could put the arrow into the center of the target every single time. I wondered if I could use my psychometry magic like that in other ways, as Daphne had suggested. I hadn't tried it yet, though.
I'd been a little distracted by almost getting kil ed twice yesterday.
"Can I help you, Gwen?" Metis asked. "Is there something on your mind?"
I opened my mouth to tel Metis about the SUV that had almost run me over and the fact that someone had shot an arrow at me in the Library of Antiquities last night-but nothing came out.
I don't know why. I wanted to tel her what had happened.
I should tel her. Metis was smart. She'd know what to do.
She'd know how to help me.
But why can't you help yourself? a snide little voice whispered in the back of my mind. You're Nike's Champion. You should be able to take care of yourself.
Everyone else around here can.
It was true. Daphne had her Valkyrie strength and her awesome archery skil s, and her magic would probably quicken and kick in any day now, giving her even more power, whatever it turned out to be. Logan, Kenzie, and Oliver had their mad Spartan weapons skil s, and could kil Reapers with anything they picked up, no matter how harmless it actual y was. Even Carson was better with a sword than I was, and he was the nicest, sweetest, gentlest guy at the academy.