Dark Frost
the gods and goddesses gave their Champions a weapon, since Champions were those picked by the gods to carry out their wishes here in the mortal realm. The professor had also said that only a Champion could read the words on her specific weapon. Victory always was carved into Vic’s blade. I wondered what the Reaper girl’s sword said. Somehow I knew it had something to do with blood, pain, and death.
    But that wasn’t the only thing I noticed. Half of a face was set into the sword’s hilt—a woman’s face with a single crimson eye that was glaring at me. Hate made the orb burn as bright as a bloody sun.
    I bit back a shriek and brought up Vic, so he could see the other sword.
    “Lucretia,” Vic snarled, apparently recognizing it.
    “Vic,” the other sword growled back in a low, feminine voice. “I’d so hoped that someone had finally melted you down and used you for scrap metal.”
    “Scrap metal!” Vic scoffed. “I’ll show you scrap metal, you tarnished toothpick!”
    Okay, so the Reaper girl had a talking sword, too, one that seemed to have just as much attitude as Vic did. Super, super creepy, but right now, I was more concerned about not getting stabbed to death than about the fact that her weapon was a mirror image of mine.
    The Reaper girl surged to her feet, yanked her sword free of the wooden base, and turned to face me once more. Behind me, I could hear the clang-clang-clang of a Reaper’s sword hitting Logan’s shield. Up on the dais, Carson still struggled with the last Reaper, while Daphne yelled at the band geek to get out of the way so she could put an arrow through the Reaper’s heart.
    “Get ready to die, Gypsy,” the Reaper girl snarled, as she came at me again.
    Clash-clash-clash .
    Our swords rang together, and glass crunched like cereal under our feet as we battled back and forth across the room. The other girl’s Valkyrie strength gave her a big advantage, and every single one of her blows threatened to tear Vic out of my sweaty, shaking grasp. Not to mention that the Reaper girl knew exactly what she was doing when it came to fighting. She moved from one attack position to the next, and she never stopped coming at me—not even for a second.
    Desperate, I tried to call up my memories of Logan and the Spartan’s fighting prowess, tried to tap into those memories and Logan’s skills with my psychometry magic. But there was just too much going on, and I couldn’t focus the way I needed to.
    Swipe-swipe-swipe .
    The Reaper girl laughed again, her sword inching closer to my throat with every single pass, and I got the sense that she was just toying with me. That she could have killed me anytime she liked but wanted to draw out the fight for as long as possible for her own twisted amusement—
    “Carson!” Daphne screamed, her frantic voice penetrating my rage. “Carson!”
    I looked at the dais just in time to see the Reaper there lunge forward and ram his sword into Carson’s chest.
    “No!”
    I didn’t know if I screamed or if Daphne did or if it was both of us together, but Carson crumpled to the dais, blood splashing everywhere. Logan increased his attacks on the second Reaper he’d been fighting so he could finish him off and rush over to help Carson, but I knew it was already too late.
    “A www, did one of your friends get hurt, Gypsy? What a shame,” the Reaper girl mocked me.
    Rage, fear, and adrenaline filled my heart, and I didn’t think—I just acted. I threw myself at the Reaper girl, tackling her and driving her to the floor. The move surprised her, and she lost her grip on her sword, which clattered away. I could hear Lucretia shouting at the girl, but I didn’t stop my attack. Even though I didn’t have her Valkyrie strength, I raised Vic and smashed the hilt of the sword into the Reaper girl’s face, hoping that I could break her nose underneath that hideous Loki mask.
    “That’s my girl!” Vic roared. “Keep it up, Gwen!”
    But the Reaper girl
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