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I froze, not sure what to do or say and not wanting to interrupt her trance . . . or whatever she was doing with her magic right now.
After a few seconds, Gwen shook her head, released my hand, and stepped back. That strange, bright glow had vanished from her eyes, and she gave me a look that was equal parts impressed and sad. Once again, I had the feeling she had seen a lot more of me than I’d wanted her to—a lot more than I would ever want anyone to see.
I cleared my throat, carefully took hold of Vic’s bloody blade, and held the sword out to her. “Thanks for letting me use Vic. He came in pretty handy.”
Vic sniffed, and his violet eye swiveled around to glare at me. “I always come in handy when there are Reapers to kill.”
Gwen grinned and shrugged at me. I grinned back at her, then exchanged her sword for my knife.
“Thanks for the knife,” she said. “It came in handy too, especially since I was up against Minerva’s Dagger. That artifact gives whoever wields it the wisdom of the Roman war goddess Minerva, including how to win whatever battle they are currently engaged in.”
Gwen gestured at the knife in my hand. “But I got plenty of wisdom from you, Gin. You saved my life.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but I decided not to ask any questions. It had already been a strange enough day with Reapers and talking swords and everything else that had happened. Sometimes it was just better to go with the flow and not think too much about the small details. So I moved on to more practical matters, as I so often did.
“What are we going to do about all of this?” I asked, gesturing at the three dead Reapers sprawled across the floor. “Because the train will be stopping soon, and it’s only a matter of time before someone comes in here. Normally, I would call my friend Sophia Deveraux to come and make all these bodies disappear, but she’s miles away in Ashland.”
Gwen gave me a mysterious smile. “Don’t worry, Gin. I have my own friends, and they are also very good at covering things up.”
Chapter Ten
Gwen
I tucked the Sword of Eris back into the crate with the other artifacts and replaced the lid. I also grabbed Minerva’s Dagger, which had landed on the floor close to Brayden’s body, and slid it back into my messenger bag, along with Vic.
Gin and I left the bodies in the baggage car, and she used some sort of Ice magic to lock the door behind us so no one could get inside. After that, we took turns ducking into a bathroom to clean ourselves up, then returned to our original seats. Everyone was still busy talking and taking photos of the scenery, and no one paid any more attention to us than they had during the rest of the ride.
Gin asked to see Minerva’s Dagger, so I fished it out of my bag and passed it over. She twirled it back and forth in her fingers, getting a feel for the weapon.
“Sharp blade, nice balance, but all that bling is just asking for trouble,” she said. “In Ashland, some folks would kill you for the jewels alone.”
She shrugged and handed the dagger back to me. I slid the weapon into its box, which Brayden had left on the seat, then stuffed the whole thing back into my messenger bag.
“Well, I agree with the assassin,” Vic piped up from his spot by the window. “I don’t care what kind of power the dagger has. All those jewels make it look like a cheap trinket. Why, back in my day, you didn’t need any fancy jewels on your hilt to prove that you were a real weapon . . .”
And he was off, talking about how a proper sword didn’t need any frou-frou decorations.
Gin eyed him, then looked at me. “Does he always talk so much?” she whispered.
“Oh, yeah. You get used to it after a while.”
“Vic should meet my foster brother. Finn also loves to hear the sound of his own voice.” Gin laughed, and I joined in with her chuckles.
Vic eventually wound down, announced that he was taking a nap, and shut his eye. Soon soft snores were rumbling out of his mouth, although the continued chug-chug-chug of the train mostly drowned them out.
“So you’re an Oracle,” Gin said. “What does that mean? That you can see the future?”
I nodded. “Something like that, but every Oracle’s power is a little different. Grandma Frost can see the future, and she works as a fortune-teller, like I told you before. My mom, Grace, could tell whether people were lying just by listening to their words. But I have psychometry magic, which means that I see . . . other things.”
“Like what?”
I drew in a breath, then slowly let it out. “Whenever I touch something that someone has a strong, personal connection to, like a family ring or a favorite T-shirt or a beloved book, then I see all the memories that are attached to the object—good, bad, and . . . bloody.”
Understanding filled Gin’s eyes. “So when you picked up my knife, you saw all the people I’d killed with it over the years.” A grimace twisted her face. “Sorry about that. All those battles were bad enough for me to endure. You shouldn’t have had to witness them too, Gwen.”
I hesitated, wondering if I should ask the question that had been on my mind ever since I had grabbed her knife, but since we were sharing secrets, I decided to see if she would reveal some more of hers.
“I saw several old battles, but mostly, I got drawn into a more recent memory. You were standing in front of this big, ruined mansion, and this guy was lying on the ground, half buried in the rubble in front of you.” I drew in another breath and wet my lips. “Who—who was he?”
