A harsh caw-caw-caw rang through the treetops, sounding more like a scream than a bird's cry. I barely had time to look up before the Black roc attacked. I hadn't noticed the giant bird, but it must have been sitting in one of the trees during the whole creepy ritual, because it launched itself off a branch and down toward Nott's back, its talons outstretched and ready to tear into her.
The wolf sensed the other creature's attack and snapped her head around, taking a mouthful of feathers out of the roc, which let out another horrible caw-caw-caw before flapping up into the sky. Nott eyed the creature as it circled around for another attack. The wolf didn't notice that Vivian had picked up the Helheim Dagger and was creeping around to her blind side.
"Nott!" I screamed, still fighting to break free. "Look out!"
But it was too late. Vivian stabbed the Fenrir wolf in the side with the dagger, then pulled it out and stabbed Nott again. The wolf staggered back, then fell to the stone. Blood was just-everywhere. Nott looked at me and let out a low, pain-filled whimper. Tears streamed down my face, and I struggled as hard as I could, but Preston and the other man held me tight.
"Nott!" I screamed. "No! Nott! No!"
The wolf's eyes fluttered once then slowly closed. Blood continued to pour out of the ugly wounds in her side, matting in her dark fur. I kept crying and screaming and fighting, but it was no use. No matter what I did, no matter how I bucked and heaved and kicked and flailed, I couldn't get free of Preston and the other man.
Loki's lips twisted into a disgusted sneer at the sound of my screams. He turned to Vivian. "Shut her up-"
In the distance, a high, piercing note sounded. The bright, sharp sound echoed through the trees, like a clap of thunder rumbling over the land. It was just as loud as Loki's laugh had been earlier, but for some reason, this sound didn't scare me. It gave me-hope.
For a moment, all the Reapers froze, even the ones who were writhing and moaning in pain from the damage Nott had done to them.
"The members of the Pantheon!" one of the Reapers hissed. "They've found the safe house already!"
"Let them come," Vivian said, sweeping the dagger back and forth in a vicious arc so that Nott's blood slid off the end of it. "We'll end this war-once and for all."
The note sounded again, even louder and sharper this time. To my surprise, Loki staggered back at the sound, and the god clapped his hands over his ears.
Vivian stared at him, suddenly uncertain. "My lord?"
"It's the Horn of Roland," Loki rasped in a low voice. "After being trapped so long underground, the sound is like ... daggers in my head."
The horn blasted a third time, and the god let out a shriek of utter agony, his body spasming with pain. One of the Reapers stepped up beside Vivian.
"Quickly," the Reaper said. "Get him on the roc before they blow the horn again. He's still weak, and we can't let them capture him. Not now. Not before he's ready for the transformation."
Transformation? What transformation? What was he talking about?
Vivian let out a sharp whistle, and the Black roc fluttered down to the ground once more. She passed the Helheim Dagger to Preston and hurried over to the bird. Working quickly, she and the other Reapers put some kind of leather harness on the roc, loaded a still-writhing Loki onto the bird's enormous back, and strapped him down. Were they actually going to-to ride the creature? Vivian climbed up in front of the god and took the reins, answering my silent question. She held up the reins and started to slap them down against the bird's wings.
"Wait," Loki rasped. "One ... more thing ..."
The god looked down at me, and once more, I felt the full force of his hate, burning into me like I was standing on the surface of the sun.
"Kill the Frost girl," Loki said. "With the dagger. Now, before it's too late."
"Happily," Preston said.
Before I could blink, before I could even scream, Preston raised the Helheim Dagger high and stabbed me in the chest with it.
Chapter 24
For a second, I didn't feel anything.
Then, my brain caught up with the rest of my body. I screamed as Preston plunged the dagger into my chest, and I screamed again as he wrenched it free. The pain was-was-unbearable. Unending waves of agony roared through my body, each one a little larger and more awful than the last. I don't remember putting my hands over the wound, but I must have, because suddenly, I could feel the blood spurting out from between my fingers-warm, wet, sticky, and stinking of copper.
White stars exploded in front of my eyes, and the next thing I knew I was on the ground, staring up at Loki, Vivian, and the Black roc they were sitting on.
The evil god stared down at me, and a smile split his grotesque features. On the smooth side of his face, his lips curved up, but on the melted side, they turned down. The sight reminded me of the two faces on Vivian's ring-only much, much uglier.
"Well," Loki said, a harsh note of triumph ringing in his voice. "That's one problem finally solved. Give my regards to Nike when you see her, little Gypsy. And tell her that it's only a matter of time now before the Pantheon falls and Chaos reigns once more."
Vivian tightened her grip on the Black roc's reins and looked down at Preston.
"Make sure the Gypsy dies, Preston," she ordered. "The rest of you, disappear into the woods. We'll regroup at the second safe house. And see if you can take some members of the Pantheon out along the way."
The other Reapers nodded and slipped into the forest. Vivian slapped the leather reins against the roc's back, and the enormous bird flapped its glossy black wings. The roc swooped up into the air just as easily as it had darted down from the trees. Despite the pain of my wound, I couldn't stop staring at the creature and the people riding it.
Vivian, the girl who'd murdered my mom, and Loki, the evil god I'd just freed against my will.
I don't know if Loki heard my agonized thoughts, but the god leaned over the side of the roc, his Reaper red eye burning into mine. Once again, I felt an emotion radiating off him-one of pure, swelling triumph. As if by ordering my murder, he'd achieved some long-secret dream, some great, final victory.
The evil god's half-melted face was the last thing I saw before the roc disappeared into the night sky.
Preston watched Vivian and Loki vanish into the darkness, a sour expression on his handsome face.
"It should have been me," he muttered. "I should have been chosen to be Loki's Champion. Not her."
Preston lashed out with his foot and kicked me in the side. The force of the blow rocked me over onto my stomach, and I moaned as a fresh wave of pain pulsed through my body.