“There’s no need for you to follow me,” I said, bitterness creeping into my voice again. “We all know what the Reapers want, and it’s not me. Trust me. This is probably the safest I’ve ever been in the library.”
Alexei took a step forward, like he was going to come with me anyway, but he nodded and sat back down on his stool. Good. I didn’t want him to see what I was really up to right now. I didn’t want anyone to see.
I pushed the cart back into the shadow-filled stacks, and I really did shelve the books, like I was supposed to. All the while, though, I kept glancing around, my eyes scanning the spaces between the rows of books, to make sure no one was watching me. At first, I thought someone might be following me, since a shadow always seemed to be lurking just out of my line of sight, but a couple of quick zigzags through the shelves took care of that, and anyone who might have wanted to spy on me.
A few times, I passed couples back in the stacks, their bodies pressed up against the shelves, eagerly kissing and doing other things I didn’t want to look at too closely. I quickly moved past those aisles. Every once in a while, I would pass a Protectorate guard sitting at a table in some remote corner, as though he or she was a professor who’d come back here to get away from the noise that surrounded the coffee cart and study tables instead of really being on the lookout for any Reapers. A few of the guards gave me respectful nods, but most of them stared at me with narrowed, suspicious eyes. No doubt Linus had told them to watch out for me.
Well, he was right about that, at least.
Finally, I shelved all of the books. I left the cart at the end of one of the aisles, looked around one more time to make sure no one was watching or following me, then moved even deeper into the stacks.
Most of the artifacts were located on the first floor, but I snuck up the stairs to the second level. Nickamedes didn’t send me up here all that often, but I’d shelved my share of books on this floor. More important, I’d dusted the artifact cases on this level. And right now, I was looking for one very specific item.
I stopped and looked left and right at the top of the stairs, but no one else seemed to be on this level, although I could hear a soft, faint, tapping sound coming from somewhere, probably drifting up from the main floor. I left the stairs behind and eased over to the balcony, looking down at the students below, but everyone was clustered around the study tables or coffee cart, getting their caffeine buzz on, and no one was paying any attention to me.
Being as quiet as possible, I made my way around the balcony, looking at all of the shelves that lined the walls. They were filled with books, like the stacks below, although the volumes on this level were more obscure titles that rarely got used, except for the occasional overachieving student who really wanted to wow Professor Metis with an unusual research source.
My eyes scanned over each shelf, then the artifact cases that crouched beside them. No, no, no, no . . . I kept walking around the balcony. Had Nickamedes moved the artifact I was looking for? That would be just my luck, especially since I needed this one item in order to get the others I was interested in. My plan wouldn’t work at all without this particular artifact, and if I couldn’t find it, I didn’t know what I would do.
Finally, just when I was about to get seriously worried, I spotted it. I let out a relieved breath and stopped in front of a case that was standing by itself along the wall.
A silver key lay underneath the glass.
It was a small, old-fashioned skeleton key, simple in design, with only two grooves carved into it, although fancy scrollwork had been etched into the metal. Nickamedes had me put the key on display a few weeks ago, since it was the focus of one of Metis’s myth-history lectures, and all the second-year students had to do some research on its history, origins, and the magic that it supposedly possessed. I hadn’t paid much attention to the key or the assignment, not with everything that had been going on with the Reapers, me, Logan, and everyone else. But thanks to my psychometry, I never forgot anything I saw or heard, and ever since I’d decided to steal Sol’s candle, I’d been flipping through my memories, calling up images of every single artifact I’d ever seen inside the library and trying to figure out which ones would help me the most. And when I’d remembered this one, I knew that it was the key—literally—to my entire plan.
I glanced at the small, white identification card that was propped up next to the key, although I already knew what it said.
Janus’s Master Key supposedly belonged to the Roman god. In addition to being the god of beginnings and endings, Janus is also associated with doors and gates. It is thought that Janus himself created this key, which will open any door, gate, or lock, no matter how strong or
complicated it may be . . .
Vic had wondered how I was going to steal Sol’s candle from the library. Well, this was my answer. Or, at least, the first part of it. With this one key, I could open any artifact case in the entire library, which would give me access to another item I needed. In a strange way, Vivian had given me the idea by wearing her Janus ring at the park. I’d replayed that confrontation with her over and over again in my mind, and when I’d started thinking about the artifacts that might help me, I’d thought of Janus and then his key.
Maybe what I was doing was wrong. Maybe the risk of making Loki stronger was too great to take. But I’d do anything to save my grandma—even this—so I forced myself to push my doubts aside. Nike had always said that she believed in me, that she had faith in me, in my instincts, in my decisions, as her Champion. Now, it was time to have a little faith in myself. I’d been smart and strong enough to survive everything the Reapers had thrown at me so far. I’d find a way to get through this too.
At least, that was what I kept telling myself.
Still, thinking about the goddess made me realize exactly where I was on the second floor. I slowly turned around.
Nike’s statue stood directly across from the artifact case.
Of course she would be here. She always seemed to be in all the places I ended up. I wondered what kind of karma, destiny, or fate that might be. If it was my own free will drawing me to her time and time again, or something else entirely.
I walked over and looked up at the goddess’s face. I held my breath, wondering if she might appear to me, if she might open her eyes and wink, or smile, or give me some sort of indication that I was doing the right thing. But she didn’t, and her face remained as smooth and remote as ever. I let out my breath. Well, if she wasn’t going to give me any guidance, then I’d have to trust my instincts. And they were screaming at me to find some way to save Grandma Frost.
Because I knew I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t—
no matter what the price might be.
So I turned away from Nike and went back over to the case. I looked around again, but the balcony was as deserted as before, although the murmurs of students talking drifted up from the first floor below, along with that soft, faint, tapping sound again, which seemed to be getting louder. I paused, listening to the sounds, especially the other kids talking, but they seemed to be the usual sorts of conversations and not more excited murmurs like, Oh, look at the Gypsy girl up on the second floor getting ready to steal an artifact.
Since the coast was clear, I reached out, put my hand on the case, closed my eyes, and concentrated, trying to see if any spells or protection measures had been placed on the wood or glass. But I didn’t sense anything, and the only flash I got was of Nickamedes standing by and watching while I put the key into the case a couple of weeks ago.
I opened my eyes and dropped my hand. Well, it was good there was no magic mumbo jumbo on the case, but there was still a small metal padlock that hooked the glass to the wood—one that I couldn’t pop open with my driver’s license like I did all of the flimsy door locks in the dorms. I was no lock pick, so I couldn’t get past it that way. Maybe I could find out where Raven had put her tool belt, and see if she had a pair of bolt cutters or some sort of metal saw—