12

12

I Never Was Any Good At Tests

I sit ramrod straight in my chair. Now? No time to digest this? Or get ready? Mentally prepare? Just…go play and hope you don’t die.

They aren’t kidding around.

Zeles folds his wings tighter against his body. “This first Labor is more of a challenge to get you started. It is not one of the twelve in which you will compete against one another… And this is the only Labor in the Crucible in which every single one of you has the chance to win.”

He lets that sink in a second.

I’m still stuck on the fact that we’re starting immediately.

“And you want to win this one,” he says. “Those of you who play well will earn two gifts from your patron—one relic and one skill or attribute—both of which you can use to assist you through the rest of the Crucible.”

Zeles claps, and the space around the tables of decadent food is instantly filled with a thousand glittering artifacts of all shapes, sizes, and types, placed and piled all around the platform, even up on the wide balcony rails. It’s so cluttered that it looks like an antique shop vomited.

“Champions…hidden somewhere on this platform is a token, an item that you and you alone must find. A different one for each of you.” Zeles looks us over. “When you find it, you will be taken farther into Olympus…” He waves up the sweeping staircase. “Along with your patron. When you reach your god or goddess, you win the challenge, and they will bestow upon you their two gifts.”

It can’t be that easy. Can it?

“If you do not reach your patron inside Olympus within the hour…” The Daemon points to a sundial on the floor at our feet. “Then you forfeit your gifts.”

Ah. There’s the catch. Not getting magical gifts when the others do would be a serious deficit to start with. That sits with me about as comfortably as sitting here between gods.

I glance at Hades, who I find watching me—studying me, more like. Trying to figure out if I’m smart enough for this little test? Only, he’s not allowed to help me now, is he? And, news flash, I haven’t trained or been tested by the Order in years—and didn’t do well when I was. I’m not sure how my skills as an office clerk are going to help much, either.

My shoulders sink. He picked the wrong damn champion.

Hades’ hand reaches for mine, lifting it up and placing it to rest on the arm of his chair, our fingers intertwined for all to see. So I know this is another little show for the others.

It’s working. To my right, I can see the open-mouthed shock on Dionysus’ face.

Hades’ silky voice curls around me, seeping into my muscles and tightening them like rachets with every word. “Don’t worry, my star. I’ll keep you safe, and this test is cryptic, but there will be signs to help you along the way.”

“Enough of that,” Zeus snaps at Hades.

Even Zeles looks a little thrown, his wings twitching. Given where my hand is perched, I don’t blame him. None of the other gods or goddesses are screwing around with their champions this way. Then again, I think that’s the point.

Hades chuckles darkly but holds up his other hand in a gesture of supposed surrender. “I won’t say more.”

Zeles’ lips thin, but he moves on. “Champions, your time starts…now.”

The other champions surge from their chairs, several running to the riches piled haphazardly before us.

Yanking my hand free, I hop up with more haste than grace and stumble a little—enough that Artemis, seated near us, sneers. Her intelligent, hazel eyes remind me of the hawk she hunts with. She’s built like a huntress—lean and strong yet light—and the way she moves her head, scanning everything, only adds to the impression. Her armor is what I’d have expected, all moons and bows and arrows over a green gown that complements her mahogany skin.

Green for the virtue of…Strength, maybe? Or Heart? I can’t remember, and I could see Artemis valuing either one.

I purposefully give her a goofy grin and a shrug, and she turns away, obviously considering me both clumsy and naive. Not a bad thing. Given where and how I grew up, I learned early that a little misinformation can only benefit me. Boone still thinks I’m afraid of the dark.

Speaking of, what in the world is he thinking right now? Watching me disappear from the den only to show up at the temple with Hades had to be a shock.

Hades, still relaxed in his chair, waves toward the tables and piles. “Run and play, my star.”

Does he really think this is fun for me?

I bite my tongue to keep from asking that out loud.

“Look at that glare.” Aphrodite tsks. “Better watch out, Hades. I might steal her from you. I would love to be glared at like that. So much…passion.” She breathes the last word so it’s practically a moan.

Heat surges up my neck and into my cheeks.

The long, black hair curling down her back sways with every move of her hips, her light-brown eyes never leaving mine as she comes closer. She looks about my age, maybe a year older—but her eyes tell a different story. “I could put all that passion to better use,” she murmurs in a seductive purr of a voice. “Don’t you wish to—”

“Addie!” Hades snaps, out of his chair.

Addie?

Immediately, everything about her demeanor changes, the softness of her features hardening. Hells, the softness about all of her hardens until a warrior stands in her place, staring daggers at Hades. “You’re such a sourpuss. No fun at all.” Then she winks at me and walks away.

Hades shakes his head. “Watch out for her. If she says the words ‘don’t you wish to,’ clap your hands over your ears, because if she gets to the rest, you’ll be compelled to do whatever it is she asks then and there”—his gaze cuts from her to me—“no matter if it’s something you want to do or not. Fuck an enemy. Betray a friend. She can even make your body obey her against your will. Your reactions, your movements…sensations.”

The last thing I want to talk about with Hades is sensations. “I won’t listen when she says those words. Got it.”

A slight tilt to one side of his mouth is his only response.

“I thought you would all disappear until we find you with our artifacts?” I ask, flicking a glance toward Zeus, who hasn’t stopped glaring at Hades since he took my hand.

Zeles answers. “They will disappear when the item is found or be instructed to leave in the final few minutes.”

In other words, they want to watch us squirm.

“Better find it quick, then.” Hades walks away to stand at the base of the stairs, as far away as he can get from the rest of the gods and goddesses, who have all moved to the tables of food and drink.

I join the other champions among the tables, debating the best plan for success.

A gong goes off, and Dionysus’ champion gasps. Her dark-brown hair is arranged in an intricate braid, and she’s wearing a pantsuit made from wine-colored velour embroidered with grapevines that match her patron’s armor. Meike Besser, I think her name was. She has a rather large, hawkish nose with intelligent brown eyes beneath thick brown bangs. She shoots me a rosy-cheeked smile, then ignores the piles of antiques and wanders over to the food tables.

“Fifty-five minutes remaining,” Zeles calls out.

Is he going to count down every five minutes for us? That won’t be nerve-racking at all.

Meike, meanwhile, picks up a bite-size morsel from the table of decadent treats, studies it, then takes a tentative bite. She immediately chokes, her breath expelling in a harsh whoosh and dust flying from her tongue. She picks up a cup and drinks only to splutter and spit that out as well, the red stain on the white marble floor not wine…but blood.

We won’t find our tokens among the food, apparently. It is also not for the mortals.

As Meike straightens, I notice that some of her long, dark bangs are stained red. Seriously, the gods are assholes.

Focus, Lyra.

Thanks to learning that tidbit from Meike, a plan starts to form. I take my time, strolling and looking about, but I don’t touch anything yet, keeping an eye on the other champions and searching for patterns in the items. Not that I’m seeing any.

Another gong. “Fifty minutes.”

“I’m curious…” Hades’ voice sounds from right beside me, and I jump. I’m not used to people getting close. His habit of popping up wherever he wants, even when he was just standing all the way across the platform, is going to take some getting used to.

“I don’t have time to talk,” I say.

“I know, but you don’t seem to be trying very hard. At least the others have picked a few things up. Don’t you want to earn your gifts?”

“I’m starting out slow.”

“I can see that. Why?”

I shrug. “Just learning what not to do first. Seems prudent in dealing with a game devised by a bunch of bored gods.”

“Interesting. Have you learned anything so far?”

“Yeah. Don’t eat the food.”