Midnight Frost (24 page)

There was nothing else to do but wait for the storm to pass and morning to come. So I lay down and drifted off to sleep, with the gryphons cocooning me.

I fell into a dark, dreamless sleep and woke up sometime later.

At least, I thought I was awake—until I realized I was standing in the middle of the cavern staring down at my sleeping body lying next to Logan’s. I blinked and blinked, but the image remained the same. I turned around and around, but all of the gryphons were sleeping, as well, and I was the only one who seemed to be awake—or whatever this was. It didn’t feel like another nightmare, though. It felt . . .
real
.

“Crikey,” I muttered, echoing Vic’s earlier sentiment.

I glanced around the cavern, but everything was the same as before. Gryphons arranged in a circle around me, the pools of water giving off heat, the walls glowing with those strange golden rocks. Finally, I looked toward the mouth of the cavern. For a moment, all I saw was a solid sheet of white as the snow continued to pour down outside. But then the flakes parted, as though the wind were whipping them back like curtains, and a figure appeared outside the cavern.

Her long, white dress was the same shade as the snow swirling around her, although the curled ringlets of her hair glimmered with a polished, bronze sheen. Wings arched up over her back. They too were the same white as the snow, but the soft feathers didn’t ruffle, despite the fierce wind. She stood there, her hands clasped together, like she was patiently waiting for me to notice her. Her eyes met mine, and, once again, I was struck by what an unusual, vivid color they were—all the different hues of purple and gray mixed together to create one vibrant, twilight shade.

Nike, the Greek goddess of victory, stared at me for a second longer, then turned and walked out of sight of the entrance. Well, if the goddess wasn’t going to come in here, I supposed that I would have to go out there to her.

I tiptoed through the sleeping gryphons, even though I probably didn’t have to. Since, you know, I was in this weird sort of a world, and they weren’t. At least, I didn’t think they were, since I was awake and they weren’t. Or I was dreaming, and they weren’t. Or whatever exactly it was that I was doing that they weren’t. I shook my head and pushed the thoughts away. Thinking about how real or not this dreamlike world was always gave me a headache.

I reached the entrance. To my surprise, the snow had stopped falling, although more than a foot of the white powder covered the ground like fluffy frosting on a cake. I stepped outside and realized I didn’t feel cold, despite the fact that I’d left the warmth of the cavern and the gryphons’ bodies behind.

I noticed a movement out of the corner of my eye and turned in that direction. The goddess was perched on a wide, flat rock several feet away. Her face creased into a smile.

“Hello, Gwendolyn,” Nike said.

 

I looked around at the snow, the rocks, and the pines that towered above us. Everything looked exactly the same as I remembered from when I’d first gone into the cavern. I don’t know how much time had passed, but it must have been close to dawn, because the streaks of silver and lavender in the sky were slowly giving way to a pale orange sunrise.

“Hi,” I finally replied to Nike. “So we’re doing that weird dream thing again, huh?”

The goddess kept smiling at me. “If that’s how you wish to think of it.”

“If I try to think of it any other way, I’m pretty sure my head will explode.”

She laughed, the sound washing over me like the high, lilting melody of wind chimes tinkling in the breeze. She patted the rock, and I walked over and plopped down next to her. We sat there in silence for several moments.

“So,” I asked. “Does this mean that Logan and I are going to get off the mountain alive?”

“Why would you think otherwise?”

I shrugged. “Well, it was a little touch and go there for a while. What with all the snow, Logan being injured, me trying to get us both down the mountain. It hasn’t exactly been a fun trip.”

“No, I suppose it hasn’t,” Nike murmured. “But you did what you needed to do.”

“What do you mean by that?”

But the goddess didn’t answer me. Instead, she got to her feet. “Come,” she said. “Let us walk.”

Mystified, I got to my feet and followed her deeper into the forest. Nike seemed to glide over the snow, as if she were a cloud drifting along, and I noticed she didn’t leave any footprints behind in the dense powder. I turned around and realized I wasn’t leaving any indentations in the snow either. In fact, I couldn’t even feel the wet weight of it pressing against my legs. Creepy. I shivered and hurried to catch up with her.

Nike stopped at the edge of a large clearing, and I crept up beside her. Snow was piled all around us, the drifts two and even three feet deep in places, but inside the clearing, wildflowers had somehow bloomed, their green stems sticking up through the powder, and their blue, pink, purple, red, and silver petals glistening like jewels that had been spilled across a white marble floor.

A woman stood in the middle of the clearing. Her long, velvet gown was the same rich green as the pines, although the edges of the fabric seemed to shimmer with all sorts of opalescent colors—pinks, blues, purples, reds, silvers, golds. She wasn’t beautiful, not like I considered Nike to be, but her face was kind and gentle, although her lips were turned down with a hint of sadness. Her black hair was short, with ends that curled under. Her skin was as pale as snow, which made her eyes seem that much greener. Something about her features seemed familiar, as though I’d seen her before, although I couldn’t quite place when or where.

As I watched, the woman moved through the clearing. She didn’t have on any shoes, but the snow didn’t appear to bother her, and she didn’t leave any footprints in her wake. Her head was bent, and she was speaking softly, as if she was talking to the carpet of wildflowers that surrounded her. I couldn’t make out her words, but the flowers seemed to respond to her voice, their stems turning and their bright petals arching toward her, as if they were trying to show off their best sides just to please her.

“Who’s that?” I whispered.

“That,” Nike replied, “is Eir.”

So that was why her face looked so familiar. I’d seen it in the carvings and statues at the ruins.

“That’s the Norse goddess of healing?”

Nike nodded. “Eir is one of my oldest, dearest friends—and strongest allies.”

We watched Eir move among the wildflowers. Suddenly, a shadow darted across the snow, and a gryphon dropped down from the sky—the same gryphon who had saved me and Logan from the snowstorm. I wasn’t quite sure how I knew that, but I did.

The gryphon bowed low to Eir, then gently tugged some wildflowers free from the snow and presented them to her, just like in the carving I’d seen at the ruins—the one where the ambrosia flowers had been. Eir smiled and returned the creature’s bow before carefully taking the flowers from his beak. She brought them up to her face and inhaled deeply. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I almost thought I could smell the same thing she did—the sweet scents of the flowers mixing with the cold crispness of the snow.

Eir whispered something to the gryphon, and he soared back up into the air, darted toward a nearby tree, and grabbed something out of the top of it. He landed in the clearing again a moment later. Eir bent down and plucked a green plant from his beak—something that looked like a clump of mistletoe. After a moment, she turned. Her green eyes met mine, and I was again struck by the kindness in her face. She radiated the emotion the same way Nike exuded victorious power. Eir started walking toward us, while the gryphon padded along at her side.

“There are few things Eir loves more than her wildflowers,” Nike said. “But her gryphons are one of them.”

“So they’re Eir gryphons then?” I asked. “Like Fenrir wolves and Nemean prowlers and Maat asps?”

Nike nodded. “Exactly like that, although few mortals remember the gryphons’ proper name anymore, just like they’ve forgotten Eir is the goddess of mercy, as well as healing. But Eir has always had a fond place in her heart for the creatures. That’s one of the reasons she built her home here on the mountaintop—so they could make their nests nearby and she could watch over them.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?”

Nike smiled. “You’ll see.”

Eir and the gryphon stopped in front of us. The goddess tilted her head to the side, her green eyes boring into my violet ones as if she could see all the secrets of my soul just by looking at me. Maybe she could. I straightened up to keep from shivering under her intense scrutiny.

“I see it now,” she said, her voice as soft as a breeze rustling through the wildflowers. “Why you have such faith in her. She is strong-willed. Young, but very strong.”

Nike’s smile widened, and, for a moment, I felt like a puppy the two of them were oohing and aahing over in some pet store window. Like I’d just done some sort of trick to win their approval, although I had no idea what it might be.

Eir kept staring at me, as if she expected me to say something.

“Um . . . thanks,” I said. “Thank you, goddess. That’s a very nice compliment.”

“It was not a compliment, merely a statement of fact.” She once again tilted her head to the side. “Sometimes, I think I will never truly understand mortals. They are so strange in their sentiments.”

The gryphon screeched his agreement, and I wondered what I’d said that was so wrong. But the goddess seemed thoughtful instead of upset, so I supposed I hadn’t put my foot into my mouth too badly.

“You were merciful to one of my gryphons,” Eir said. “One of the few mortals who has been so in a very, very long time. For that, I have a gift for you.”

She took the wildflowers and the clump of mistletoe she was still holding and began to twist them, as if she was going to make a daisy chain with the green stems and colorful petals. A bright silver light flared, leaking out from between her fingers, almost as if the flowers were some sort of metal the goddess was working with. The light was so intense that it hurt my eyes, but I didn’t dare look away.

“There,” Eir said, a few moments later. “It is done.”

Something
clinked
, and I felt a small weight on my arm. I looked down and realized a thin silver bracelet had appeared on my right wrist. The chain itself was made out of strands of mistletoe, with several small petals dangling off it. All put together, it reminded me of a charm bracelet that Carson had given Daphne awhile back.

The bracelet was touching my bare skin, and I waited for my psychometry to kick in—but it didn’t. In fact, I didn’t get any big flashes off the bracelet—just the same sort of calm, kind vibe that I got from Eir herself.

Curious, I held up one of the petals. It was small, silver, and more like a leaf than a true flower, but I recognized the shape of it. My eyes flicked up. The heart-shaped leaves exactly matched the ones in the wreath on top of Nike’s head. Laurels—the symbol for victory.

“The laurel is a curious plant,” Eir said. “And silver laurels are exceedingly rare. I’m the only one who grows them anymore, but even that has been all but forgotten—along with their properties. Mistletoe is also quite powerful, although all that mortals seem to use it for these days is kissing.”

She made a face, as though she didn’t like the idea, then paused.

“And . . . what are their properties?” I asked, since it seemed as if she wanted me to say something.

“Silver laurels can be used to heal even the most grievous wounds,” Eir said. “Or they can be used to kill the mightiest foe. In some cases, silver laurels can even destroy the gods themselves.”

My breath caught in my throat, and my fingers curled so tightly around the leaf that the metal edges pricked my skin. Was she saying—did she mean—could I possibly
kill
Loki with the laurels?

When Nike had shown me the artifacts in the fresco on the ceiling of the Library of Antiquities, I’d thought that I’d been holding a silver arrow or spear, some weapon that would help me defeat the evil god. But what if what I’d seen was the bracelet? What if it was at least part of the answer? I glanced at Nike, and the goddess nodded, as if she knew what I was thinking. She probably did. She always seemed to.

“The other interesting thing about silver laurels is that whether they heal or destroy depends entirely upon the will and intent of the user,” Eir said. “So wield them with care, Gwendolyn Cassandra Frost. Because your choices will affect us all.”

Her green eyes bored into mine, and she held out her hand to me, as if she wanted to say good-bye. I hesitated, then brushed my fingers against hers. For a moment, her power washed over me, and I felt her wonderful kindness toward all creatures great and small, her love for her gryphons, her delight when mortals used her wildflowers to heal the sick and injured.

And I also felt her utter ruthlessness.

Like victory, mercy could be a great and terrible thing. Giving mercy, accepting it, rejecting it, withholding it—all of those things had a price someone had to pay. And I realized that in her own way, Eir was just as cold, terrible, beautiful, and powerful as Nike was—as all of the gods and goddesses were, including Loki.

Then, Eir’s fingers slipped away from mine, and the feelings vanished, although I still got that same calm, kind vibe from the bracelet around my wrist. I stared at the metal leaves and vine-like chain. I wondered if Eir had given Nike the crown of laurels that the goddess of victory wore—and I wondered what I was supposed to do with the ones I now had. How could such simple-looking leaves heal anyone? Or possibly kill a god? How was I supposed to use them? Were they the key to destroying Loki and ending the Chaos War? Or did they have some other purpose? And what was the mistletoe for, if anything?

Those questions and a dozen more burned on the tip of my tongue, but Eir had already returned to the center of the clearing, with the gryphon walking by her side. The goddess bent her head again, and the wildflowers strained toward her once more. A smile curved Eir’s face as she started murmuring to them and the gryphon.