“You’re just asking me?” I sniped. “Really? Aren’t you going to get a Maat asp to bite me so that I have to tell the truth?”
That’s what Linus had done before, when I’d been on trial for Vivian’s crimes. The asp’s venom was a sort of truth serum, one that forced you to be honest, or suffer the painful, deadly consequences.
He gave me a chilly look. “Unfortunately, a Maat asp is not readily available at this time or one would already be wrapped around your wrist. But rest assured that I can get one, Miss Frost, should I feel you are not being forthcoming with me.”
I didn’t feel like being bitten, so I did as he asked and told him everything that had happened over the past few days. Well, almost everything. I didn’t exactly tell him the truth about certain things, a fact that Linus quickly picked up on when he interrupted me halfway through my story.
“What about the artifacts?” he asked, gesturing to the items on the table. “How did you get them out of the library without setting off any alarms?”
“Janus’s key was actually in one of the librarian’s offices since it was due for a cleaning,” I lied in a smooth voice. “So I snatched it when the offices were empty. Once I had the key, it was easy for me to open the case with Morpheus’s dreambox in it, and then, the one with Sol’s candle after that.”
I resisted the urge to glance over at Nickamedes to see what he thought about my story. But this had been my idea—not his—and I was the one who was going to be punished for it. Not him.
Linus gave me a suspicious look, but I kept my gaze steady and level on his. He gestured with his hand, telling me to continue. So I talked some more before he interrupted me again.
“And what about Rachel Maddox and Rory Forseti?”
he asked. “Why did you contact them?”
“Because they’re my family,” I said. “Both of them, blood or not. Besides, Rory hates the Reapers because of her parents. I knew that she’d help me, especially against Vivian and Agrona.”
“And the gryphons?” he asked. “Why did you ask Ms. Maddox and her niece to get them to come here? Why did you think that the creatures would cooperate?” “Because the gryphons had helped me before at the Eir Ruins, and using them was the only way I thought I could get my grandma away from the Reapers before they killed us both,” I said. “And it turns out that I was right.”
I didn’t mention that Daphne and Oliver had been in the woods as well, picking off Reapers with their bows and arrows, and I didn’t tell him what Daphne had told me about how all of my friends had been doing what they could to help me on the sly the past few days—including Logan.
Linus rubbed his forehead again, as if my words had only made his previous headache intensify. Yeah, I could totally see that happening. But he gestured at me with his hand again, and I finished my story.
“So you used another artifact, these silver laurel leaves, to counteract the effects of the candle?” Linus asked. “You’re absolutely sure that the leaves, combined with the power of the candle, injured Loki, instead of healing him?”
I thought of how the silver flames had washed over the god, making him scream with agony. “I’m sure.”
Linus stared at me, as if still debating whether or not I was telling the truth. Then, he reached into his cloak, drew out the candle, and placed it on the table.
Sol’s candle looked much smaller and thinner than before, and there was only about a quarter of it left now, just as I’d thought when I’d grabbed it at the Garm gate. I leaned down and peered at the candle, but the white wax was smooth once more, and I didn’t see any trace of the silver laurels glimmering in the surface. They must have all burned up when the candle had exploded into flames.
“I must say I’m rather stunned that you actually managed to bring back the artifact, along with your grandmother,” Linus said. “At least you did one thing right, Miss Frost.”
“I had to bring it back—because the Reapers still want it.”
He stilled. So did everyone else in the prison. “What do you mean?” he asked in a sharp voice.
I gestured at the artifact. “Look at it. There’s still some candle, some wax, some magic left. From what I saw at the Garm gate, it seems to take about a quarter of the candle to help someone. That’s how much is left now, so that means that there’s still enough power in it to heal one more person. And the Reapers will want that person to be Loki. They’ll try to get the candle again. Trust me on that. It wouldn’t surprise me if they tried to kidnap someone else in order to make you give it to them. They might even try to grab you so that the other members of the Protectorate will be forced to give it to them.”
Linus sat back in his chair, a thoughtful look on his face. “I would never do that, Miss Frost. I would never allow that. And neither would any other members of the Protectorate. We all know what’s at stake here, even if you don’t.”
“I think I know exactly what’s at stake,” I snapped. He looked at me, but he didn’t say anything else.
For the third time, a key sounded in the lock, and the door opened. Another man wearing a gray Protectorate robe came hurrying into the prison. He went straight over to Linus, bent down, and started whispering in his ear. I strained to listen, but I couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying. Still, I could tell from the low, urgent pitch of his voice that it wasn’t anything good. Had the Reapers struck again already? I would have thought that we’d have at least a few hours of peace, but I’d been wrong before.
“How reliable is the source?” Linus asked.
The man bent down next to him and started speaking again. I looked at Metis, but she shrugged at me. So did Ajax and Nickamedes. They didn’t know what was going on either.
“When?” Linus said in a sharp voice. “How long do we have?”
The man whispered a few more words into his ear before straightening back up. He waited, as though expecting Linus to give him some order.
For a moment, the head of the Protectorate looked utterly shocked, then defeated, and then finally resigned, as if something had happened that he had been both dreading and expecting for a long, long time now.
“Go,” Linus said. “Prepare the others. Protocol
Three. Now.”
The man nodded and scurried out of the prison, shutting the door behind him. Inari and Sergei’s faces both darkened at the mention of Protocol Three. Whatever that was, it sounded serious.