30 Ariadne

30

Ariadne

I honestly expected a trap, even with Asterion's reassurance. But when the taxi drops my brother and me off in the theater district, the street is deserted. We're a few blocks off the main avenue that has the theater, so I suppose that makes sense. It's the middle of the day, after all. Most people are at work, and it's not time for the lunch rush.

I lead my brother to a strange gate between two tall buildings with the address molded into the iron of the arch overhead. The only part of the setup that looks remotely modern is the keypad over the knob. It clicks open the moment I type in the code that Asterion gave me. So far, so good . Without meaning to, my hand finds my brother's, and I link my fingers through his. Just like we used to do when we were children and facing something scary.

I glance at him. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm not." He gives me a brief smile. "Let's get inside before someone else tries to kill us."

We're going to have to talk about the fact that our own father shot at him. Somehow that's so much worse than him ordering me dead. At least with me, he wanted to avoid doing it himself. Icarus doesn't look well, but I doubt I do either.

We slip through the gate and walk down a narrow cobblestone path with plants in pots hanging from the walls on either side. Most of them are dead, and the one bright-green fern I see looks fake. It creates a strange atmosphere. As if we're entering another world. It was kind of like that when we first moved into the manor house our father bought from Hermes. He did his best to sweep away any strangeness and modernize everything, but hints of it remained. Even if I didn't know this was a house that belonged to her, the vibe would be telling.

The door at the end of the path looks normal enough, and it opens under my hand. I can't help tensing in response. Nothing else has gone right, so why should this? But as we step into the house, it's cool and dark and has the energy of a building long abandoned.

"What is this place?" Icarus moves deeper into the large open room we've entered. I think it's a living room, based on the shapes underneath the white sheets covering the furniture. There appears to be art on the wall, but it's also covered. For all that, there's not a speck of dust to be found.

"I don't know," I say slowly. "Obviously she doesn't live here full-time." Or at all. It's weird, though. Because I would bet good money that if I went to one of Dionysus's houses in the countryside, it would look like he just stepped out for a minute. He has a full staff at all of his residences, with the sole exception of the penthouse, and only because he values his privacy. He has a cleaning service come in once a week, but that's it.

I would expect the rest of the Thirteen keep their various holdings in the same standing, ready for them at a moment's notice. So why not Hermes? Or why not in this place specifically?

"Let's look around." Sandwiched between two larger buildings, the windows offer little light. Either the person who built this home has a spiteful nature, or the house was here before the apartment buildings.

We walk through room after room, finding more of the same. All the furniture is covered. In the kitchen, there are some nonperishable items in the pantry, but the fridge has been wiped clean. I stare at a can of spaghetti. "Are you hungry?"

"Not particularly."

"Me neither." I glance at my phone again, but not much time has passed, and I don't have any messages from Asterion. He said he would call, not text, anyway. I don't know why I'm checking, except yes, I do. I'm worried about him. About us. About all this. "This has all gone to shit."

"Of course it has." Icarus stirs, giving me a wan smile. "I would've liked to slip out of the city gracefully instead of running for my life, but we work with what we have. Let's sit before you fall down."

I'm tired, but even with the frantic descent down the stairwell, it's more stress than anything else to blame. The pounding headache starting behind my left eye is testament to that. It's a relief to follow my brother to one of the bedrooms and watch as he pulls the sheets from a fainting couch, the bed, and the dresser.

When I raise my eyebrows at him, he shrugs unrepentantly. "I'm curious. So sue me."

I almost sit on the bed, but even with how frazzled I am, if I go horizontal, it's very likely that I'll pass out. I don't want there to be any chance I miss Asterion's call.

Icarus digs through the dresser, muttering under his breath. I don't bother to tell him that any secrets Hermes has won't be hidden in the house she sent us to. Besides, we're going to get out of here, and then we'll never see any Olympians again. I lean back against the chair and let my eyes drift closed. "You're wasting time."

"We've got nothing but time to waste." He opens the drawer and curses. "But even I draw the line at pawing through someone's panties."

I open my eyes and give myself a shake. I've had my phone in my hand the entire time, but I still glance at the screen and make sure it's not on silent. "We're going to get out of here."

"Maybe. Maybe not." He finally gives up on the dresser and comes to flop down next to me on the fainting couch. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"I know." I study my brother's face. I know the planes and angles almost as well as I know my own, but there's something in his expression that makes him almost a stranger to me. "Are you hurt?"

He shakes his head sharply. "Your big brawny monster of a man threw himself in front of me. I don't think I'm allowed to hate someone who took a bullet for me. It's really fucking inconvenient."

The reminder that Asterion got shot sends my heart racing. "He's in no shape to be running around, doing whatever the fuck it is Hermes has him doing. If he gets killed for this—"

"He won't."

I give my brother the look that statement deserves. "You can't just declare something to be true and expect the universe to conform to it. That's not how any of this works. He's only human." And he's been missing sleep. Running himself ragged as he tries to find a solution to get me out of Olympus. I want to believe that nothing on this earth can slow Asterion down, but that's the dreamer in me talking.

"If someone was lucky enough to kill him, he'll probably fight his way back to the land of the living to return to you." Icarus shakes his head. "It's scary the way he wants you, but there's something reassuring in it, too. Anyone who tries to hurt you will have to go through him, and he's a hard fucker to put down."

It's natural for my brother to prioritize my health and wellness over anyone else's, but he's looking at Asterion the same way our father does. As meat to be thrown into a grinder to serve a higher purpose. Asterion is worth more than that to me. He's worth everything .

Icarus throws an arm around my shoulders and gives me a firm side hug. "Just rest, Ariadne. That's the only thing you can control right now."

"My phone—"

"I'll keep watch. It's the least I can do. We won't miss his call."

I don't mean to close my eyes again. Really, I don't. But the next thing I know, my brother is shaking me gently awake. I startle up, but he puts his hand over my mouth before I can speak. The light has changed in the room, the shadows longer and darker.

Once Icarus is sure that I'll be silent, he slowly lowers his hand and speaks softly. "I thought I heard something."

We sit on the couch in perfect silence except for our soft inhales and exhales, listening with everything we have. I don't tell my brother that he's being paranoid. It's impossible to be paranoid when multiple parties are out to get you. No one should know we're here, but that's a fool's hope. We're in the middle of the city. There are cameras everywhere, and we took a cab ride to this address.

It still should've taken Phaedra longer to find us. They aren't some magical tracker, and my father doesn't have access to the network cameras in the city. Even as the thought crosses my mind, I curse myself for my shortsightedness. Of course they have access to the network. They have Mars. It still should've taken longer, though.

Except that's not the truth, is it? I could track someone within a few hours, and it's been at least that since I escaped Dionysus's penthouse. I hold perfectly still and listen intently, waiting to hear whatever put the fear in my brother's eyes.

Just when I'm on the verge of telling Icarus that he must've imagined it, I catch the sound, too. A faint whisper of movement. The footsteps of someone trying to walk silently.

I share a look with my brother. Fight or flight? He shrugs. If there's only one person, technically we outnumber them, but neither of us is a fighter. We don't have the training for it—something our father insisted was completely unnecessary—and we don't even have a weapon to our name.

Flight it is.

My legs feel like wet noodles as I push to my feet. I'd like to sleep for twelve more hours, to wake up and have this all be a bad dream, but that's not how life works. Asterion won't show up to save me. I have to save myself—and Icarus, too.

The only thing in our favor currently is that this house isn't an open concept. It's a warren of rooms connected to each other with only a small hallway here and there to break up the confusion. The sound came from somewhere close to the front door. We could try to avoid them as they move through the house and then escape out that door, but I don't think it's a good idea. I doubt whoever it is came alone. If I were trying to trap or kill us, I would send several people into the house and leave the rest of the team to block the exits.

"Is there a back door?" I whisper. I was distracted when we arrived, and all the rooms started to look the same after a short period of time.

"Yeah, but there's no exit back there." My brother matches my tone, the volume barely more than a whisper.

Fuck . "Then we have to hide." And hope that they assume we've left. It's a shitty plan, but it's the best I have with those footsteps creeping closer.

For a moment, it looks like Icarus is about to start arguing, but then he gives a jerky nod and grabs my hand. There's no need to speak anymore. Without meaning to, I fall back into the habit we created during our late-night wandering in my father's house as children. Being caught meant a lecture if we were lucky and the belt if we weren't. We were almost never caught. We'd slip out of the house and go to our spot on the roof where no one else visited.

When did we stop doing that? I don't know. Only that our nightly escapes happened less and less as we got older. Until they stopped altogether.

My body still remembers, though.

My brother leads the way through room after room. Several times, I almost question if he actually knows where he's going or if he's about to lead us directly into whoever is pursuing us. I manage to swallow down the question every time. The desire to run, to sprint, to put as much distance between us and danger, is almost overwhelming. Only habit keeps me moving slow and steady.

But I can't hold on to my silence as Icarus leads us through a door and into the cool night air. I look around in a panic and hiss. "You said there was no exit back here."

"They don't know that." He tugs on my hand, pulling me out onto a patio. Where the entrance of this house reeks of abandonment with dead plants and cracked flagstones, the back is a completely different story. There's more light back here, and even in the growing darkness, I can see full trees and hedges and bushes that fill the space with their scent. It's lovely enough that I almost pause, but Icarus keeps me moving.

He guides me to a particularly large plant that's part bush and part tree. "It's not going to be comfortable, but hide back here."

"What are you—" I bite off the question as he darts away. He has a plan, and I have to trust that he knows what he's doing. I wedge myself between the brick wall of the building bordering this courtyard and the scratchy branches of the plant. It's not quite late enough in the year for them to have shed their leaves fully, but there are a few sparse spots that I can see the back door through. I crouch down and battle the urge to pray.

A rattling sound snaps my head around. I watch in horror as my brother rips vines from the iron fence that closes the backyard off from a short alley that leads to the street on the other side of the block. He yanks down several more handfuls, enough that I can clearly see through the iron fence. Not an exit, no, but it could be for someone who is desperate enough.

I have the horrifying thought that my brother intends to leave me, but he ducks to the side and takes up a position almost opposite me behind a similar-looking bush. Understanding dawns as my heart races so hard, it creates a rushing sound in my ears.

He wants them to think we climbed the fence and escaped out the back.

It's a desperate play, but it's the only one we have. I open my mouth to say something, but the creak of the back door stops me short. I turn slowly to see the outline of a person standing in the doorway. It didn't seem that dark a few minutes ago, but now it feels like midnight. They step out into the courtyard and look around slowly.

Instinctively, I close my eyes and duck my head, letting my hair fall over my face. Willing myself to melt with the shadows behind the bush. Without my eyesight, every sound feels amplified. Their soft footsteps over the cobblestones are as loud as gunshots.

They stop less than five feet from me and curse softly under their breath. A few seconds later, they speak in a normal tone. "Atalanta here. I searched the whole place. They were definitely here just like you saw, but they must have escaped out the back at some point." She moves to the fence and rattles it a little. "I can see two side entrances from here and not a single damn camera. If they got into one of the apartment buildings, they could be anywhere now."

I press my lips together and hold my breath, willing Icarus to stay just as silent. Atalanta . That means she's here at Athena's behest. And that's bad news for us. With Ares, we might have a chance at a public trial or just be tossed into a cell somewhere. If Athena is sending her people after us, then she wants us to disappear. Permanently.

Atalanta listens for several beats. "We'll keep eyes on both entrances going forward. I doubt they'll come back here, but there's no reason to be foolish about it. Yeah, I'll meet you up front." She turns and stalks silently back to the door.

Even so, I don't move. I barely breathe as the seconds tick into minutes. I finally gather the courage to lift my head and look out through the space between branches. The courtyard is empty. She obviously did exactly as she said and went back through the front door. There's still a part of me that's certain this is a trap. That as soon as we come out of our hiding places, we'll be killed.

Eventually, Icarus makes the choice for me. He slips out of his hiding spot and crosses silently to me. "Well, we're fucked."

"Probably."

"What do we do?"

That's the question, isn't it? We're trapped here, but even if we weren't, we shouldn't be rushing around Olympus and hoping for the best. I take Icarus's hand and let him pull me out of my spot. "We do exactly what we were planning on doing. We stay here and wait for Asterion's call."