“So Lance isn’t the one giving the orders—Sisyphus is. That means that Sisyphus told Lance to recruit me. But why? I’ve never even met this Sisyphus person, so why would he want me to become a Reaper? It doesn’t make any sense. I don’t know anything about Sisyphus, but he seems to know everything about me.”
“Maybe Sisyphus has heard what a great warrior you are,” Babs suggested. “Everyone knows that you fought at the Battle of Mythos Academy. You know that Reapers covet power more than anything else. Sisyphus probably thinks he can defeat the Protectorate if he has a strong warrior like you on his side.”
“Maybe. But I still feel like I’m missing something important about this whole situation.”
Sympathy flashed in Babs’s gaze. She opened her mouth, then abruptly closed it again.
“What?” I asked. “What were you going to say?”
“Well, I hate to bring this up, especially since you’re already feeling a little down…”
“Bring what up?”
The sword winced. “Sisyphus isn’t the only thing you need to worry about.”
“What else is there?”
Her wince deepened. “My curse.”
With everything that had happened over the past day, I had forgotten about Babs’s curse and how it affected every warrior who wielded her.
“Last night, when I fought Lance, Drake, and the chimeras, that was my second time using you in battle,” I said.
I hadn’t even thought about the curse, much less not using Babs during the fight. The only things I had been worried about were protecting Ian and Zoe and taking down the Reapers before they hurt anyone else. But I had used Babs in the fight, which made me one step closer to being the next victim of her curse.
“Yes, that was the second battle. That means you only have one battle left before…before you die.” The sword’s voice dropped to an anguished whisper, and a tear gleamed in her eye.
My stomach twisted with dread. And I had just made plans to be part of a third battle by agreeing to take down Lance, Drake, and Sisyphus during the Fall Costume Ball. Even if we managed to corner the Reapers, they wouldn’t go down without a fight.
Maybe it was morbid, but I wondered exactly how the curse would kill me. Would Lance get in a lucky strike with a sword? Would Drake wound me with a poisoned weapon? Or would I fall victim to some weird, random bout of extremely bad luck, like tripping, plunging down a flight of stairs, and breaking my neck seconds after the battle was finished?
More dread swirled through me, along with a touch of fear. I might be a warrior, but I didn’t want to die. Not like this. Not because of some curse that I had no idea how to fight.
“I’m sorry, Rory,” Babs whispered, a tear streaking down her face. “So sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen to you.”
Seeing how upset she was reminded me that I wasn’t the only one affected by the curse. Babs had been through this with other warriors before me, and she had watched them all die just because they had picked her up. Determination surged through me, drowning out my dread. Well, she wasn’t going to suffer through that guilt and heartbreak again. Not if I could help it.
Spartans never, ever gave up.
“Don’t worry,” I said, gently wiping the tear off her blade. “I still have time to figure this out. We’re in the Library of Antiquities, remember? There has to be something here that can help us break your curse.”
“Do you really think so?” Babs’s voice quavered with a faint bit of hope.
“Yes, and we’re going to get started right now.”
I got to my feet, buckled Babs’s scabbard to my belt, and grabbed my messenger bag from the floor. Then I looked at Sigyn’s statue.
Once again, I wondered why the goddess had arranged for my path to cross Babs’s, and I stared at her marble face, hoping she might give me some small clue or sign that I was on the right track, that there was some way to help Babs and myself. But Sigyn’s features remained as still and remote as before. No help there. At least, not right now. So I hoisted my bag onto my shoulder, turned, and left the goddess behind.
I had a curse to break.
Chapter Twenty
I stayed in the library until closing time, searching through the computer databases, but I didn’t find any books or artifacts about breaking curses.
I would have stayed even later, but the librarians rounded up all the students and made us leave before locking the doors behind us. Frustration filled me, even though I knew that the improved security measures were Takeda’s doing and that they were for the best to protect everything inside the library. But I had no choice but to go home for the night.
Despite everything that had happened with Lance, Drake, and the Reapers, the next few days were surprisingly normal. Well, as normal as they could be considering the fact that I kept wondering if everyone around me was a Reaper and spying on me for the mysterious Sisyphus. But that was just life at Mythos Academy.
I went about my routine as though everything was fine. Morning classes, lunch with the others in the dining hall, afternoon classes, then prepping for the mission with everyone in the Bunker. As the days passed, I realized that everything really was fine. Well, except for Babs’s curse, which I spent every night researching in the library, although I didn’t have any luck finding anything to help the sword or keep me from dying. But that was the only black spot in my days.
I’d had more fun hanging out with Ian, Zoe, and Mateo this past week than I’d had since my parents were exposed as Reapers. Even Takeda, with his annoyingly calm demeanor and love of classical music, was slowly growing on me. Plus, being on the Midgard gave me a sense of purpose, like I was making a difference, like my actions would protect people. But most of all, being on the team made me feel like I was my own person—and not just the despised daughter of murdered Reaper assassins.
I was going to be so sad when we finished the mission and they all went back to their regular lives in New York. But I tried not to think about it too much, and before I knew it, it was the day of the Fall Costume Ball.
Takeda had told Linus Quinn what we thought the Reapers were up to, and Linus had decided to let the ball take place as planned, since it was the Protectorate’s best chance to capture Sisyphus and put a stop to this new brewing war with the Reapers. So on Saturday afternoon, I was in the Bunker, going over our final strategy to catch Lance, Drake, and Sisyphus at the museum tonight.
Mateo hit some buttons on his laptop, and photos of the inside of the Cormac Museum popped up on the wall monitors. I stifled a groan. They were the exact same photos we’d been studying for days now, and I had stared at them for so long that I’d started seeing them in my sleep.
Takeda stood in his usual spot at the head of the briefing table. “As you know, the safety of the Mythos students is our top priority tonight, even above capturing Lance, Drake, and any other Reapers who might be there. Dozens of Protectorate guards will be hidden throughout the grounds, and others will be patrolling inside the museum, dressed in costumes like all the other regular academy chaperones.”