"What do you mean?" I asked.
He laughed in my ear, the sound even more chilling than the air around us. "Who do you think has been helping the Reapers find so many artifacts lately? I've been using the resources in the Library of Antiquities to track down the objects that we need - that Loki needs - to finally defeat the Pantheon and win the second Chaos War. But time and time again, you and your little friends have been there first. You've already gotten Sigyn's bow, the Swords of Ruslan, and the Horn of Roland, and you almost stopped Agrona from getting the Apate jewels. How are you doing it? How do you know so much about artifacts?"
I didn't answer him, but my eyes met Oliver's, and I could tell he was thinking about the same thing I was - the drawing he'd done for me of all the artifacts, people, and creatures that Nike had shown me. The one I had stuffed in my backpack right now. Another thing I couldn't let the Reapers get their hands on.
"Tell me!" Covington screamed and pressed the dagger into my throat.
I winced as the blade sliced into my skin, but I didn't answer him. I wasn't telling him about the drawing or the fact that I knew there were other artifacts out there - ones that might make the difference between who won and who lost the looming Chaos War. I wasn't telling him anything - not one damn thing.
I didn't get a chance to respond before Rachel stepped forward, a horrified look on her face.
"Rebecca . . . Tyson . . . You said they attacked you. That they were trying to steal artifacts from the library. You said they murdered those students, and that you had no choice but to defend yourself against them - against the poor, misguided Reapers. That's what you called them."
"They were fools," Covington sneered. "They agreed to break in to the Library of Antiquities and steal artifacts to make it look like a robbery and a Reaper attack gone wrong so suspicion wouldn't fall on me. But at the last moment, they changed their minds and tried to stop me."
Rory moved to stand beside Rachel. Anger made her cheeks burn and her eyes flash, and her hands were clenched into tight fists. "Why? Why did they try to stop you?"
"They were unhappy," he sneered again. "They didn't want you to grow up to be like them. Boo-hoo. They were even talking about leaving the Reapers completely. But they should have known better. No one leaves us - ever."
"So you framed them," Rory said, her voice raspy with rage. "You framed them for what you did."
"Oh, grow up, you stupid girl," Covington snapped. "Your precious parents were hardly innocent. They were Reapers for years - years. You have no idea the things they did, all in service to Loki."
Tears streaked down Rory's face, but she didn't bother to brush them away. Rachel was crying too, but she had the same hurt, determined expression on her face as Rory.
Covington laughed at their tears and anger. "And do you know what the best part is? That you two were dumb enough to come up here with the rest of these fools. Why do you think I asked you to be our guide?"
Confusion filled Rachel's face, but I had a sinking feeling I knew exactly what he was getting at.
"Because I'm the only one from our group who will go back to the academy alive," Covington answered. "There will be a Protectorate investigation, of course, but in the end, it'll look like I finally took care of the rest of the Forseti family of Reapers."
So not only was he going to help Vivian and Agrona kill us, but the librarian was also planning to frame Rachel and Rory for our murders. And of course everyone would believe him, given the fact that Rory's parents had been Reapers. Cruel - very, very cruel.
"You're not going to get away with it," Rory vowed. "I won't let you."
More tears slid down her face, but she slowly started advancing on the librarian. So did Rachel. Meanwhile, the Reapers crept up on my friends, who were standing their ground. My friends hesitated, wanting to attack the Reapers, but they couldn't - not as long as Covington had his dagger against my throat - which meant that I had to find some way to free myself or we were all dead.
I quickly considered my options. Sure, I had Vic clenched in my right hand, but I couldn't raise the sword and attack the librarian with it. Not with Covington right behind me. So I concentrated on exactly how and where he was standing. He had his left hand around my waist, and his right one at my throat, still holding the dagger. Warm blood trickled down my neck from where he'd cut me already.
No, I couldn't use Vic, not without getting my throat sliced open, but the sword wasn't my only weapon - I had my touch magic too.
That's what I'd used on Preston Ashton when he'd stabbed me with the Helheim Dagger. I'd pulled the Reaper boy's life force into my own body and healed myself with it - and Preston had died as a result. Killing him had been horrible enough, but Vic had wanted me to do the same thing to Logan, to keep him from murdering me when he'd been under the influence of the Apate jewels. But I'd refused. I hadn't wanted to hurt Logan. I hadn't wanted to use my Gypsy gift that way. Not again - never again.
But Covington was a Reaper, he was my enemy, and he'd happily led me and my friends into Agrona and Vivian's trap. Not only that, but he'd framed Rory's parents for something they hadn't even done.
Killing Preston with my touch magic had sickened me, and the thought of using it on Covington was making me ill right now, but I didn't see any other way out of this. My friends couldn't defend themselves until I was free, and this was the only way I could slither out of the librarian's grasp.
So I focused on Covington's hand wrapped around my waist. I was holding Vic in my right hand, but my left hand was hanging down by my side. Slowly, very, very slowly, I started moving my free hand up toward the librarian's.
"Stand still or I'll cut your throat!" he snarled.
I froze, my hand no higher than my hip. I couldn't move it the rest of the way or he'd make good on his threat. Frustration filled me because I needed my skin to touch his. That was how my magic worked. But I realized there was another way I could use my Gypsy gift on the librarian - by getting him to touch me instead.
Covington's fingers brushed up against the collar of my snowsuit as he held the dagger against my neck. I shifted on my feet, trying to get his fingers to slip up over the edge of the cloth and press against my skin, but the angle was wrong, and I couldn't get it to work. More frustration surged through me, and my gaze went to my friends. They'd moved together, forming a tight ring in the middle of the courtyard, even as the Reapers kept advancing on them, slashing their curved swords through the air in anticipation of cutting into my friends. And I realized I was almost out of time - and there was only one option left.