101

101

One Last Blow

It’s time to compete in my last Labor. Or at least to not die, and then what? I was going to run away, but now…

“Are you able to tell me where?” I ask Nike as she unlocks the door to my cell.

The Daemon shakes her head.

“It’s okay,” I assure her, though she doesn’t look concerned. “I figured.”

“Follow me,” she says.

Which I do, out of my block of cells and into a long, narrow hall that leads through what could pass for a fancy version of the front office of a police department, and then outside into the night.

“We can’t teleport inside that building,” she explains. “Wards.”

I expect her to either fly or teleport me away, but instead, she spreads her wings wide and takes off without me.

“Hey!” I call after her. “Where do I—”

Hades appears in the silent jolt of an instant, standing several yards away. Like he can’t quite bring himself to be near me. His eyes glint silver in the glow of evening light as he takes all of me in with a single, sweeping glance. “They treated you well?”

That’s it? That’s all he has? Would it be unladylike to punch the god I love in the face?

“Yes.” I’m staring. I can’t help it. I’m drinking him in after days without, but I’m also searching for a flicker of a sign he’s hating this as much as I am. That he has regrets. That he’s pushing me away in some misguided attempt to protect me. That he has a plan and he’s trying to save Persephone and Boone…and me.

That’s a lot to shoulder.

Before, I would have said that sounded like him. To deal with all that silently and alone.

Now, I don’t know what to believe.

“As your god, I am required to take you to the last Labor.”

Required? As if he wouldn’t be here otherwise. The same way he didn’t watch Athena’s Game? I cross my arms. “I’m surprised they let you near me.”

“They feared any other god wouldn’t be able to hold off Athena if she decides to attack you on the way.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t thought about that.

Hades crosses to me in his slow prowl of a walk, coming closer but not close enough. Then he holds out a hand to me. “Let’s go.”

I peer closer, but he’s still a wall of nothing. Not a single damned emotion.

“I tried to tell Demeter. About Persephone, I mean…”

He lowers his hand to his side slowly. “You what?”

I flinch because that is very real anger. But I don’t back down, tipping my chin up. “If Diego wins, she’ll be queen. She could help her own daughter herself. She deserves to know.”

Hades spears a hand through his hair, pacing away. “They won’t let her. She’s going to bring down everything, start a war—”

“That’s what Aphrodite said.”

He whirls on me and clasps his hands behind his back as if he’s physically restraining himself from unleashing on me. “You told her—”

“She said she would keep the secret and not tell Demeter. For the same reason you just said.”

“Damn it, my star—”

“Don’t. Don’t call me that.” The words lash out from me. But I can’t listen to that endearment. Not anymore.

He snaps his mouth closed.

“I’m not going to apologize,” I tell him. “I thought I was doing the right thing with the limited information I had. If you had told me everything from the beginning, we really would be in a much better place now.”

Hades glares. “There is no other way—”

I take a step forward. “Bullshit.”

His jaw works. “Every person I’ve ever trusted has betrayed me.”

I want to soften at that. I feel my insides squish a little, but I don’t let him see. “You could have trusted me.”

His head rears back slowly, arrogance and impatience becoming a mantle over his face. “This isn’t helping anyone.”

Then he stalks closer to grab me by the arm, and we blink out. When we blink back in, we’re standing with all the other champions and their patron gods on the flat, cracked earth of a desert somewhere in the Overworld. Night—somewhere far from Olympus, then.

“Don’t die,” Hades says as he lets go, already turning away from me.

“Were you really going to make Boone into a god, or was that a lie to get on my good side?”

He pauses, then barely cants his head in my direction. All I see is the side of his face, his jaw clenched. “Finish this Labor and go home, Lyra. Forget about everything that happened here.”

Then he’s gone.

And I have my answer.