Killer Frost (Mythos Academy #6)(18)

Grandma Frost winked at me. “And I’m going to use this chance to fatten up all those guards. It seems to me like these Protectorate folks could use some homemade cakes and cookies. I’ll bake something for you too, pumpkin.”

“I’ll come get it tomorrow afternoon,” I promised. “I’ll see you then.”

Grandma Frost drew me into her arms and hugged me tight. I hugged her back, holding on to her for as long as I could, and trying to blink back the tears in my eyes before she or Metis saw them.





Chapter 6


Grandma Frost, Professor Metis, and I stepped out into the front part of the infirmary. As promised, Inari was waiting there to take Grandma home. She gave me one final wave before looping her arm through his and disappearing from sight.

“Come on,” Metis said. “We should get over to the library. Linus is probably waiting on us by now.”

I nodded and followed her out of the waiting room and then out of the building. It was late afternoon now, and the sun had already started to set behind the mountains. The soft lavender twilight was giving way to the shadows as the darkness slowly swallowed up the last bits of purple and gray that streaked the sky. With the short winter days, it seemed like the academy was dark and gloomy more often than not. Or maybe that was just my perpetual worry, since I still wasn’t any closer to figuring out how to kill Loki than when I’d started. And I couldn’t help but feel like time was running out, something that the Reaper attack today had only reinforced. The final battle was coming—probably much sooner than I realized—and I still didn’t know how we could win it.

I still didn’t know what I could possibly do to save the people I loved.

Metis and I walked in silence, both of us with our chins tucked down into the scarves wrapped around our necks, our breath still steaming in the cold air despite the layers of cloth. Still, I didn’t mind the schlep across campus. It seemed like the first time in ages that Metis and I had been alone, and there was something I had wanted to ask her about for weeks now—Nickamedes.

“We haven’t had a chance to talk much lately,” I said as we crested the hill and stepped onto the main quad.

Metis sighed. “I know, and I’m sorry about that, Gwen. It’s just with everything that’s been going on . . .” I waved my hand. “There’s no need to apologize or explain. I’ve had a lot going on too.” I hesitated. “And

I’ve learned a lot of things these past few weeks.” “Really? Like what?”

I drew in a breath. “Like the fact that you’re in love with Nickamedes.”

Metis stopped cold. Seriously, she just—stopped, as though she’d been somehow frozen in place. If not for her breath still steaming in the air, I might have thought her some lifelike statue, like the ones perched on the towers of the English-lit building that loomed above our heads.

“I flashed on you the night Nickamedes was poisoned in the library,” I said. “I wasn’t looking for anything or trying to see anything. My fingers brushed yours, and it just happened. You were so worried about him, and I realized how much you loved him.”

Metis nodded, accepting my explanation, although she kept her gaze averted from mine. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Your touch magic is so strong. I should have known that you would figure out how I felt about him sooner or later. Sometimes, I think it’s so painfully obvious that I wonder if everyone doesn’t already know, especially Nickamedes.”

She laughed, but the sound was small and bitter, and she reached up and smoothed back her black hair, even though every strand was already securely tucked away in her usual bun.

“Why don’t you tell Nickamedes how you feel?” Her face darkened. “There are a lot of reasons.”

“Is it because of my mom?” I asked. “That’s the only reason I can think of why you wouldn’t tell him.”

A faint smile flickered across Metis’s face, softening the tight pinch of her lips. “Sometimes, I forget how perceptive you can be. And not only because of your psychometry.”

She started walking again, her steps much quicker than before, as though she could scurry away from the truth and her emotions if only she moved fast enough. I wondered if I’d made a mistake asking her about her feelings for Nickamedes. But before I could catch up to her and apologize, Metis slowed, turned, and then sat down on the library steps, right in between the two gryphons. I hesitated, then plopped down beside her, feeling the bitter chill of the stone even through the thick fabric of my jeans.

Metis ran her fingers back and forth over the dark gray stone of the step that we were sitting on. After about a minute, her hand stilled, although she kept staring at the stone, her green gaze dark and distant with memories.

“You know, your mom and I used to sit out here on the library steps and talk all the time. About everything. Boys, classes, life. I think that’s the thing I miss about her the most. The fact that I can’t talk to her anymore.” I had to clear my throat to get the words out. “Me

too,” I whispered.

Metis sighed, drew her hand away from the cold stone, and slowly curled her fingers into a loose fist in her lap. “But you’re right. Grace is the reason I never told Nickamedes how I felt about him.”

“How long?” I asked. “How long have you loved him?”