"What do you mean by that?" I asked.
"When someone tells the truth, the asp will do them no harm," he said. "But when someone lies, the asp gets quite agitated. The more a person lies, the more agitated the asp becomes until it strikes out at the person who is lying. That second bite acts as an immediate trigger for the poison already in your veins. Death is often thought of as a blessing. Those lucky-or unlucky-enough to survive a second bite from a Maat asp often wish they hadn't."
"And why is that?" I couldn't help but ask the question.
"The side effects are quite brutal and include everything from permanent paralysis to rotting limbs," Linus said. "The effects vary from person to person. No one knows exactly why, except that ironically enough, the punishment usually fits the crime. For example, if a Reaper is caught stealing artifacts and lies about it, the asp's bite will usually make a finger or two rot and fall off. Sometimes, a Reaper's whole hand or arm. Like I said, most Reapers who survive that second bite wish they hadn't-or that they'd just told the truth to start with."
I eyed the snake. I'd been face-to-face with Nemean prowlers, Fenrir wolves, and even a Black roc, and the Maat asp seemed like a harmless little garden snake in comparison to the massive size of the other mythological creatures. In fact, the asp's shimmering blue and black scales made it look quite dainty and pretty, almost like a jeweled bracelet you could wear around your wrist. The creature blinked sleepily at me, its eyes the same deep, vivid blue as its scales. Its black tongue flicked out of its mouth, tasting the air. I wondered if it could sense my fear. The emotion was probably radiating off me like anger had off the other students for the past few days.
"As long as you tell the truth, you'll be fine, Miss Frost," Linus continued. "Keep in mind that you lie to us at your own peril."
Yeah, I'd gotten that message loud and clear. I swallowed and looked at Grandma Frost, who patted my shoulder.
"It's okay, pumpkin," she said. "That itty-bitty snake can't hurt you because you're innocent. Soon, these fools will realize it too."
Linus arched his eyebrows at my grandma, who gave him a serene smile in return. He shuffled a few more papers around on the table before looking at me again.
"Now," he said. "The first accusation against you is that you murdered another student. Jasmine Ashton, a Valkyrie in your second-year class. According to the charges, Jasmine found out that you had stolen an artifact called the Bowl of Tears from the Library of Antiquities back in the fall. She was attempting to stop you from sacrificing another student, Morgan McDougall, to Loki, and you killed her for it. Is that correct?"
Is that correct . . . correct . . . correct . . .
His words echoed in my head over and over again. It was almost like he was speaking a foreign language because it took me several seconds to process the words. To realize what he was really saying-and what he was actually accusing me of.
I shook my head. "No-no way. I didn't do any of those things. That's not what happened-not at all. Jasmine is the one who stole the Bowl of Tears, not me. I was the one who realized that she was planning to sacrifice Morgan. I was the one who stopped her, not the other way around."
"And why would Jasmine want to kill Morgan?" This time, Inari was the one who spoke. "According to our reports, the two Valkyries were friends-best friends."
"Because Jasmine found out that Morgan was messing around with Samson Sorensen, Jasmine's boyfriend," I said. "And because Jasmine was a Reaper and that's what Reapers do. You guys should know that better than anyone."
"Keep the editorial comments to yourself, Miss Frost," Linus said. "We are not the ones on trial-you are. You would do well to keep that in mind."
I clamped my lips together to keep from telling him what I really thought about him, the Protectorate, and this stupid trial.
"But you don't deny that you killed Jasmine by shoving a spear through her chest?" Agrona asked.
I hesitated. I wasn't the one who'd actually killed Jasmine-Logan was. The Spartan had saved me that night, first by killing the Nemean prowler, a big, black, panther-like creature, that Jasmine had sicced on me and then by killing the evil Valkyrie herself. I didn't want to get him in trouble, especially not with his dad, by telling the Protectorate what had really happened. I didn't want Logan dragged in here and facing the same sort of torture that I was-but I didn't want to die by snake bite either.
The Maat asp raised its head, and its tongue flickered out of its mouth again, almost like it was about to test the truthfulness of my words. I couldn't lie, not with the snake an inch from my hand and the cold venom running through my veins, just waiting to ignite.
Desperate, I looked around the prison, as if the empty glass cells would give me some idea how to get out of this mess, but of course they didn't. Neither did glancing at Grandma Frost, Nickamedes, or the hand-and-scales carving. Finally, my gaze dropped to the cuffs and chains, which made me think of Preston. He used to scream and struggle whenever I came down to the prison to peer into his mind with my magic. Vivian had told me what had upset Preston so much was knowing there was nothing he could do to hide the truth from me.
The asp and its venom might be deadly, but for all its power, the snake didn't have my Gypsy gift, my psychometry magic. All it had to go on were my words-just words and not any of the memories and feelings behind them. An idea popped into my mind, a way I could get through this-and keep at least some of my secrets to myself.
"Answer the question, Miss Frost," Linus said.
No, I couldn't lie-but maybe I didn't have to.
"I fought with Jasmine," I said, choosing my words carefully and sidestepping the question. "I had to or she would have killed me instead. And Morgan too."
The asp eased its head back down, apparently satisfied with my answer. Okay, well that told me a little something about the rules of the game. Outright lying was a no-no, but omitting certain facts was just fine.
Magic. For all the ways it was supposed to be foolproof, it always seemed there was at least one loophole you could wiggle through, and I fully intended to exploit this one.
"But why did you destroy the Bowl of Tears?" Sergei asked. "It was a priceless artifact, one of the Thirteen Artifacts used during the final battle of the initial Chaos War. It was irreplaceable, yet you smashed it as if it was nothing more than a common dish."
"I smashed it because Jasmine was kicking my ass, and the bowl was somehow feeding her power," I said. "I thought if I broke it, that might stop whatever magic mumbo jumbo she'd started-and it did."