"What do you mean?" he mumbled, stuffing a wad of lime cotton candy into his mouth.
"I mean, why is everything decorated with Nemean prowlers and scary, twisted Reaper masks?" Carson frowned. "What are you talking about, Gwen?
The booths and games are decorated the same way they always are. I think they look great."
I opened my mouth to ask him another question, but I realized it was kind of pointless. To Carson, Nemean prowlers, Reaper masks, and bul 's-eyes of Loki were completely normal.
He'd never been to any other kind of carnival, out there in the regular mortal world, where kids had no idea that mythological monsters even existed or that there was an ancient struggle stil being fought today in modern times. Then again, mortal carnivals usual y had a clown or two. I supposed images of an evil god who wanted to break free of his mythological prison and enslave the whole world weren't any scarier than a guy wearing big red shoes, yel ow plaid pants, and white face paint. Clowns had always creeped me out. They were so not funny.
Daphne put al her arrows through the ring and won a stuffed gryphon for Carson before we headed off to the next game.
I looked for Preston in the crowd, hoping that maybe we could hook up before lunch and I could introduce him to my friends, but I didn't see him anywhere. No surprise. So many people were crammed into the carnival space that it was hard enough to keep track of Daphne and Carson right beside me. I had my cel phone in my pocket though, waiting for him to text me. Or maybe I'd be brave and text him first. I hadn't decided yet.
One person I had no trouble spotting was Logan. The Spartan stood over at the strong man test, swinging a sledgehammer down onto a platform and making a weight shoot up a tal scale and ring a bel at the top. Big, burly Coach Ajax manned that game, his onyx skin glistening in the sunlight. With his arms crossed over his chest, the coach looked like a granite slab someone had planted on the mountainside, along with al the other statues.
Kenzie and Oliver were hanging out with Logan, al three of them taking turns with the sledgehammer. I glanced at the crowd of girls standing around giggling and watching them, but I didn't see Savannah anywhere. Maybe the Spartans were having a guys'
day out or something.
Whatever. I did not care what Logan was doing or who he was doing it with. I did not care. I did not care. Maybe if I told myself that enough times, it would actual y be true.
Yeah, right. Even I didn't believe that, and I was the one who was trying to lie to myself.
My cel phone buzzed in my jacket pocket, distracting me from my thoughts of Logan. I pul ed it out and read the message.
Ready 4 lunch? Meet me @ hotel in 15 min. P.
"Is that your mystery man?" Daphne asked, looking over my shoulder and squinting down at the screen.
I grinned at her. "Yes, it is. He wants to meet for lunch back at the hotel."
"Oh, okay, wel , we'l go with you," Daphne said. "Just let Carson finish his game."
Carson was playing a whacked-out version of Whac-A-Mole, except he was trying to hit gargoyle heads as they popped up out of a metal table instead of, you know, moles.
But he wasn't having much luck at it. A gargoyle popped up on the table, and Carson slammed his hammer straight down on top of it-and the thumb of his other hand, which had somehow gotten in the way. I winced. And I thought I was uncoordinated.
"Nah," I said, taking off my gloves and stuffing them into my pockets. "I know how much you love the carnival. You guys stay here. We'l catch up after lunch."
"Wel , if you're sure ..."
Daphne's voice trailed off, and she eyed Carson's hammer, no doubt thinking how much better she could do with it, especial y with her Valkyrie strength. If Daphne whacked one of those gargoyles, I doubted it would rise back up. She could break the whole table with one blow if she wanted to.
"I'm sure," I said, texting Preston back and tel ing him that I was on my way down the mountain and would meet him in the lobby. "Go have fun. I'l be fine."
"And what about the Reaper?" Daphne asked in a low voice.
"You haven't said anything, but I know you're stil thinking about him, whoever he is. I would be. But Metis said she would take care of things, right?" Daphne didn't know that I hadn't talked to Metis about the Reaper. Instead, I'd told my friend that the professor was looking into things. The vague answer had seemed to satisfy the Valkyrie. Plus, I hadn't said anything else to her about the Fenrir wolf that I'd seen in the trees yesterday and how I thought the creature wasn't just a wild wolf hanging around the mountain resort.
I shrugged. "Nothing's happened since we got here yesterday. Maybe he didn't make the trip to the resort. Or maybe he's having too good a time to want to kil me today."
I laughed at my lame joke, but Daphne didn't smile. She just looked at me, worry fil ing her face. She was right, though. I hadn't forgotten about the Reaper. In fact, that was one reason why I'd decided not to play any of the carnival games-so I could spy on the crowd instead.
I'd looked at everyone we'd passed today, al the other kids we'd talked to, al the profs manning the booths, al the hotel staff members making cotton candy and caramel apples. I'd even taken my gloves off and accidental y-on-purpose touched a few of them, just to see what kind of flashes I might get, just to see if I could figure out who the Reaper was. But I hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary.
Everyone was focused on the carnival, al the games they wanted to play, and al the prizes they wanted to win.
"I'l take the chair lift and go straight down to the hotel," I said, crossing my heart with my finger. "Promise. I'l be fine.
You'l see."
Daphne stil hesitated. "Wel , if you're sure ..." I gave her a little push. "I'm sure. Now, go take that hammer away from Carson before he hurts himself with it."
"Yeah," Daphne sighed. "He's not very good with it, is he?
But luckily he more than makes up for it in other ways." She gave me a knowing smirk, and I just rol ed my eyes.
"So Carson's a great kisser. Whatever," I said, then grinned.
"Although maybe if I'm lucky, I'l discover Preston has some similar talents after lunch."
I left Daphne and Carson at the carnival and headed back over to the chair lift. To my surprise, it wasn't operating, and the chairs dangled like wind chimes strung on the thick, black cables.
A grizzled guy with a beard that reached down to his waist crouched by one of the steel stations that jutted up out of the snow.
A hatch was open on the bottom of the station, and the guy clipped and twisted the wires inside, working on the electric circuits or whatever control ed the lift.