The wolf licked my fingers again, as if trying to tell me that it was okay, that she knew I'd done my best to save her.
"Nott?" I whispered. "Nott!"
The wolf laid her head down, closed her eyes, and let out what sounded like a happy sigh. Then, she was still-forever.
I put my head down on the wolf's neck and wept.
They found me at dawn, just as the last of the lavender twilight was fading away, and the world was preparing itself for a new day-the first day without Nott. I huddled there on the cold stone, stroking Nott's silky ears with my frostbitten fingers.
Clash-clash-clang!
Screams and shouts echoed through the forest, followed by the ring of blade on blade. Branches snapped and leaves crackled as several Reapers raced into the clearing. They stopped short at the sight of me huddled in the middle of the broken circle, my head still pressed against Nott's cold neck.
"Is that the Gypsy?" one of them said. "The one that Ashton stabbed to death? How is she still alive?"
"I don't know," another one muttered. "But she won't be for much longer."
The Reaper walked over to me and raised his sword high, ready to bring it down on my head-
He jerked, screamed, and arched his back a moment before falling to the ground beside me. A golden arrow quivered in his back. Daphne, I thought, and went back to petting Nott.
The other Reapers whirled around, and a moment later, my friends charged into the clearing. Logan carrying a sword, a shield strapped to his arm. Daphne with her onyx bow and quiver. Oliver, Kenzie, Metis, Nickamedes, and Ajax, all carrying weapons. Even Carson was here, clutching a staff and an ivory horn that reminded me of a miniature tuba, the same horn he'd picked up at the coliseum, the one that Daphne had said kept appearing in his room no matter how many times he gave it back to Metis. The Horn of Roland, I thought. That's what Loki had called it.
"Gwen?" Logan shouted, swinging his sword at the Reaper closest to him. "Gwen!"
I didn't raise my head, and I didn't respond to him. I just kept stroking Nott's ears. Nothing else mattered but that.
Clash-clash-clang!
The battle raged in the circle all around me, but it seemed distant and far away. The curses, the shouts, the smash of steel against steel. It was like a dim dream. Eventually, though, as my friends fought their way closer to the center of the circle, I began to make out their voices through the noise and chaos.
"Get out of the way, Spartan!" I heard Daphne snap. "Unless you want me to put an arrow in your back!"
"No!" Logan shouted back at her. "I have to get to Gwen before it's too late! I won't let her die like I did my mom and sister!"
I frowned. That wasn't right, I thought. Logan hadn't let his family die. He'd been a kid when the Reapers had murdered them. There was nothing he could have done to save them. If he'd tried, he would have been killed, too.
The sound of Logan's voice made me blink and raise my head. The Spartan froze when he realized that I was staring at him.
"Gwen?" he said in a shocked voice. "Gwen!"
Logan was so surprised that he did something I'd never thought he'd do-he stopped fighting. The Reaper he'd been battling raised his sword, ready to press this unexpected advantage. Panic rose up in my chest, breaking through the cold fog that clouded my mind. Logan was going to die because of me-just like Nott had.
I started to scream out a warning, but Nickamedes stepped forward, putting himself between Logan and the Reaper. The librarian parried the blow meant for his nephew, then drove his sword into the Reaper's chest. Logan pulled his eyes away from me and started fighting again.
A minute later, the battle was over, and all the Reapers were dead. My friends hurried over to me, stepping over the bodies that littered the cracked black stone.
"Gwen?" Logan said. "Are you all right?"
The Spartan stared at me, an anguished look on his face, but all I could see was the blood on him. It covered his sword, his shield, and his hands like a coat of fresh, glossy paint. Blood had even spattered onto his face, looking like crimson tears dripping from the corners of his blue, blue eyes.
My gaze moved past him. Daphne, Carson, Oliver, Kenzie, Metis, Nickamedes, Ajax. All of them were covered with blood-so much blood. They'd fought their way through the Reapers to get to me, someone who didn't deserve their friendship.
Someone who didn't deserve anything at all.
"Gwen?" Logan asked again, his voice dropping to a whisper. "What happened? Are you okay?"
"It was Vivian," I said in a dull tone. "It was Vivian the whole time. She has telepathy magic, illusion, confusion, and chaos powers. She tricked me into finding the Helheim Dagger for her, then used it and my blood to open a portal to Loki's prison. He's free. Loki's free, and Nott's dead."
I kept stroking the wolf's cold ears. "Poor Nott. She barely got a chance to live, you know? To be free. And now she's gone, all because of me. It's all my fault. My mom's murder, Vivian's freeing Loki, everything. You shouldn't have come for me. You should have just let the Reapers kill me. I should have let Preston kill me."
Logan stared at the others, then put down his sword and took off his shield. The Spartan dropped down on his knees beside me. He hesitated, then stretched out his arms, like he was going to hug me.
"Don't touch me!" I screamed, lurching away from him. "Don't you dare touch me!"
Confusion and hurt filled Logan's face, but he reached for me again. Somehow I was able to get to my feet and stumble away from the Spartan.
"Keep your distance!" I screamed, whirling around. "All of you! Don't come near me!"
This time, Daphne stepped forward, her eyes full of worry. "Gwen? Just calm down, okay? Nobody's going to hurt you now. We're your friends. We're here to help you."I let out a bitter laugh. "It's not you that I'm worried about. It's me."
"Did the Reapers-did the Reapers hurt you?" Oliver asked in a low voice.
I laughed again, a little louder and harsher this time. "Yes, yes, they did. Vivian cut my palm open to the bone, and Preston stabbed me in the chest with the Helheim Dagger."
"But you look ... okay," Oliver said in a hesitant tone, as if he wasn't sure it was really true. He glanced at the others for some kind of help, but they all looked just as shocked and uncertain as he did.
"Oh, sure," I said. "I'm fine now. Because I did that to Preston."
The others looked at the dead Reaper lying on the cold marble.
"What happened to him?" Carson asked. "I don't see any wounds on his body."
"What happened to him? I killed him, Carson. With my touch magic. My power that's so very rare and so very special. I just grabbed hold of Preston, and I pulled all his energy, all his magic, all his freaking life, into my own body. To heal myself, to save myself. Some kind of Champion, I am, huh?"
The band geek stared at me, his mouth open in a silent O.
I turned to Metis, my gaze harsh and accusatory. "You told me that I could influence other people and objects with my psychometry. You never said anything about killing them. You never said anything about that."
"It'll be okay, Gwen," Metis said, slowly walking toward me. "It'll be okay. You'll see. We'll figure everything out. All that matters now is that you're safe."
I looked up at the sky, as if I could somehow see Vivian, Loki, and the Black roc they'd flown away on.
"None of us is safe," I muttered. "Not anymore."
As suddenly as it had come, all the fight and energy left my body. My knees buckled, and Logan's face was the last thing I saw before I passed out.
Chapter 26
Metis used her magic to heal me, and I woke up a few minutes later, still lying close to Nott. The next few hours passed in a haze of tears. Despite my demands to stay away from me, my friends put me on a stretcher and carried me out of the woods. They did the same for Nott, too, without my even asking.
They took me to Grandma Frost's house. I told my grandma the same thing I had the others-not to touch me. But of course, she didn't listen.
"You're my granddaughter," she said in a sharp voice. "You would never hurt me."
Then, Grandma cradled my bloody face in her hands, and I felt the warmth of her love wash over me, stronger than ever before. And I wept again.
Finally, I went upstairs to the bathroom, but instead of getting in the shower, I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. My brown hair was matted and snarled, my clothes were ripped, and black smudges of exhaustion ringed my haunted violet eyes. Even my snowflake necklace seemed dull and tarnished around my throat. There was blood all over the silver strands-my blood, Nott's blood. I took it off and left it on the bathroom counter. I'd been so happy when Logan had given me the necklace, but right now, I couldn't stand to look at it. I couldn't stand to look at myself.
I took a hot shower and cleaned up, but really, I was just going through the motions. I sat at the table in Grandma Frost's kitchen, listening to the story of how the others had found me. Apparently, I had Morgan McDougall to thank for my rescue. She'd been skirting around the edge of the quad, going back to her dorm room for the night, and had seen the Reaper girl carrying my body away. Morgan had followed the Reaper girl all the way to one of the academy gates, where she had removed her mask, showing Morgan who she really was. When Morgan realized that Vivian was taking me off campus, she'd called Professor Metis and raised the alarm. Metis and the others had eventually realized that Vivian had taken me to her family's nearby estate and had fought their way through dozens of Reapers who had gathered in the mansion and on the grounds.
After Metis finished the story about Morgan, the professor and I went into the bathroom, and Metis once again examined my hand and chest where I'd been stabbed. But both wounds were completely healed, except for the thin white lines that marred my skin. Metis tried to get rid of those as well, but no matter how much of her healing energy she poured into me, the marks didn't fade away. She thought it was because they'd been made with the Helheim Dagger. Metis said that powerful artifacts like that could sometimes leave behind scars that would never heal.
Just like my heart would never, ever heal. I didn't need the scars to remind me of what had happened. I'd never forget it, and I'd never stop blaming myself for everything, for all my many miserable failures.
Late that morning, we buried Nott in my grandma's backyard, right next to a lilac bush that was bare and brown for the winter. Logan and Oliver volunteered to dig the grave, and I insisted on helping, even though I wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and never come out again. Metis, Ajax, Nickamedes, and Grandma Frost came outside to pay their respects to Nott, along with Daphne, Carson, and Kenzie.
"Should we say something?" Oliver asked me in a quiet voice when we were through.
I stared down at the mound of loose, turned earth and shook my head. I would have liked to have said something, to talk about how gentle Nott was deep down inside, but my throat closed up, and I just couldn't get the words out. Grandma Frost squeezed my hand, and everyone else gave me sympathetic looks and said how sorry they were. Then, one by one, the adults and my friends went back inside, until only Logan, Grandma Frost, and I were left outside.
"I'll give you two a few minutes," Grandma finally said, squeezing my hand again before she headed into the house.
Logan and I stood there next to Nott's grave. The Spartan raised his arm like he wanted to put it around me but dropped it to his side instead. Besides Metis and Grandma Frost, no one else had touched me, and I didn't want them to.
I never wanted anyone to touch me again. Not after what I'd done to Preston. Not when I finally knew exactly what I was capable of.
I don't know how long we stood there, but the air turned colder, and fat flakes of snow started drifting down from the winter-white sky. The flakes gathered in my hair and mixed with the tears trickling down my cheeks. They still weren't as cold as my heart was, though.
"I'm a coward, Gwen," Logan said, breaking the silence.
That was the last thing I'd expected him to say, and I turned to stare at him.
"You're not a coward," I said. "I saw how you fought the Reapers in the clearing, and Ajax told me how you led everyone into battle against the ones at the mansion. He's so proud of you for that. So is Nickamedes."
Logan sighed. "I didn't mean today. I meant when I was a kid-the day my mom and older sister were murdered. That's my big secret, Gwen. That's what I never wanted you to find out. How much of a coward I was that day."
He hesitated, then stepped forward. I tried to jerk away, but Logan gently captured my face in his hands. He stared into my eyes, and the memory washed over me.
Logan as a young boy, hiding in a closet, clutching a sword, terrified by the screams and curses he heard outside the door. Then, the Spartan standing over the dead, bloody bodies of his mother and older sister. Logan lying in between them as the tears and grief overwhelmed him.
I'd seen these same images once before when I'd kissed Logan, but he kept his hands on my face, letting me go deeper into the memory, letting me feel his emotions, finally showing me his secret.
I saw it all through his eyes. Him playing outside with his toy sword, pretending that he was battling Reapers. Then, Logan actually seeing a group of black-robed Reapers climb over the stone wall at the edge of the woods. Logan running inside and yelling out a warning to his mom and older sister. His mom screaming back at Logan and his sister to hide. Then, the Reapers storming into the house, his mom and sister stepping up to fight them, even though they knew they couldn't win. Logan wanting to help his family but instead turning and running deeper into the house ...