The only one who wasn't represented in the circular pantheon was Loki, the Norse trickster and chaos god, and there was an empty spot where his statue would have been. Loki had done a lot of bad, bad stuff back in the day, like getting another god killed, trying to take over the world, and blah, blah, blah. They didn't build statues of you when you were the equivalent of a comic-book supervillain.
I'd met Nike a few weeks back, during the whole Jasmine situation. The goddess had appeared to me in the library and asked me to be her Champion, to be her hero here in the mortal realm, to help her fight Reapers of Chaos and other assorted bad guys.
The statue looked the same as Nike had the night she'd shown herself to me-hair falling past her shoulders; a long, flowing gown covering her strong, slender body; a crown of laurels resting on top of her head; feathery wings attached to her back. The goddess was the embodiment of victory, and she was cold, hard, fierce, and beautiful, all at the same time.
"Hi, Nike," I said in a low voice. "Hope you're having a good day up there on Mount Olympus or wherever you are. You know, eating lots of ambrosia, playing harps-things like that. Whatever goddesses do to have fun."
The statue didn't do or say anything, and I didn't really expect it to. Still, every time I came into the library, I stopped a moment to speak to the goddess. I didn't know if she actually heard me or not, but it made me feel a little better. Like maybe Nike was up there watching over me. Like maybe I was really worthy of the magic and trust she'd given to me.
Like maybe I really could do some good as her Champion.
I turned and headed for the center of the library. A long checkout counter split the main floor into two and separated one side of the enormous domed room from the other. A series of glassed-in offices lied behind the counter, while the open floor in front of it featured long tables for students to sit and study at. There was also a freestanding cart that sold coffee drinks, fruit smoothies, and sugary snacks. I breathed in, enjoying the warm, rich smell of the coffee mixing with the dry, slightly musty odor of the books.
The curved ceiling of the library arched high overhead, and it always seemed to me like the building was much taller than its seven floors, like the library just kept going up and up and up until it touched the clouds. Other students claimed there were amazing frescoes painted on the ceiling, ones that depicted various mythological battles and gleamed with gold, silver, and jewels, but I'd never been up to the top floor to look for myself. From down here, all I could see were shadows.
I'd barely put my messenger bag in a slot underneath the checkout counter when a door opened in the office complex behind me, and Nickamedes appeared.
"You're late, Gwendolyn," Nickamedes snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. "As usual."
Nickamedes was the head honcho at the Library of Antiquities. If you were just looking at him, you'd think that he was cute, handsome even, with his black hair and blue eyes. For a fortysomething-year-old guy, anyway. But then he opened his mouth, and you realized just how uptight, prissy, and snobby he really was. The library was Nickamedes's whole world, and he loved everything in here with an intense, devoted, detailed obsession. Well, everything but the students. Nickamedes didn't really like anyone touching his precious books and artifacts, not even for class assignments.
But the librarian was sort of stuck with me. Back when I'd first started going to the academy, Professor Metis had thought that working in the library would help me meet other kids and make friends. Not so much. Basically, I was Nickamedes's free slave labor-and there was nothing he enjoyed more than bossing me around.
Nickamedes had never really liked me and my smart mouth, but he'd come to actively hate me a few weeks ago. Jasmine Ashton had tried to kill me in the library, and, well, we'd torn up a lot of stuff during our struggle. Nickamedes despised anything that damaged his precious books. Seriously, the dude wouldn't even crack one of their spines. I'd done far worse than that. I'd pretty much trashed the entire first floor. In fact, I was still shelving books from where I'd shoved a case of them onto Jasmine to try to keep her from running me through with her sword.
"Well, Gwendolyn?" Nickamedes barked, tapping one of his long, pale fingers against his opposite elbow. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
I rolled my eyes. I couldn't exactly tell the librarian that I'd snuck off campus to go see my Grandma Frost, since that was against one of the Big Rules. But maybe I could sweeten up his sour mood. I rustled around in my bag, drew out the metal tin of cookies, popped off the top, and held it out to him. Surely the smell of chocolate would bring a smile to even his sharp, angular face.
"Cookie?" I asked in a hopeful voice.
Nickamedes's expression just darkened. "You brought unauthorized food into the library, Gwendolyn?"
I sighed, knowing that I was going to get the mother of all lectures now.Ah, well,I thought, biting into a cookie while Nickamedes glared at me. It had been worth a shot.
Chapter 5
After a five-minute, ear-blistering lecture from Nickamedes about what food items could and could not be brought into the library, I got to work. Mostly, I sat behind the counter, checked out books, and looked up other ones in the computer system.
In addition to studying, the library was one of the main places on campus where students came to Hang Out and Be Seen. And that wasn't the only reason kids gathered here-lots of them liked to sneak off into the shadowy stacks to hook up. Occasionally, Nickamedes made me dust and clean the bookshelves, along with the glass artifact cases hidden back among the stacks. Every single time I'd find more used condoms than I did crumpled-up pieces of paper and lost pens. Yucko. I wouldn't want to do it in the library where anyone could walk by at any second, but at Mythos, it was considered some sort of thrill. Whatever.
Tonight, more kids than usual crowded into the library, since everyone was trying to get their homework done before taking off for the big weekend getaway. All the gossip was about the Winter Carnival. I heard more than a few excited comments as I moved through the library shelving books. Everyone seemed excited about making the trek over to one of the area ski resorts-and all the fun they had planned for when they got there.
"Did you hear? Samson Sorensen is throwing another massive party, just like he always does. There'll be at least five kegs there, maybe more."
"I know a guy who says he can get his hands on some primo pot."
"I wonder how many guys Morgan McDougall will sleep with during the weekend. Two? Twelve? Twenty?"
That last comment was made by Helena Paxton, an Amazon from my English lit class with sleek, caramelcolored hair and eyes. It was followed by a round of vicious snickers and sharp, sly looks over at Morgan, who was studying by herself at a table close to the checkout counter. With her black hair, hazel eyes, and curvy body, Morgan was one of the most gorgeous girls at Mythos-and she also happened to be the academy's most notorious slut. Seriously. Everyone knew that Morgan had been sleeping with Samson, even though he'd been dating her best friend, Jasmine, at the time.
"Well, my money's on twenty," Helena answered her own catty question. "Since Morgan likes to keep herself so busy."
More snickers filled the air. Morgan had her back to the group of Amazons, but I could see the anger and humiliation that flushed her face. She bent down over her books a little more, but she didn't give the other girls the satisfaction of turning around and glaring at them. Still, I felt sorry for her. I knew what it was like to be an outcast.
Maybe it was almost getting run over by that SUV, but suddenly, I wasn't in the mood to be nice and quiet and blend into the background like I usually did, especially not when it came to the subject of Jasmine Ashton.