32

32

The Strongest Power

I should have asked Hades where to start looking before he left.

I stare out over the peaks and valleys connected by the flowing rivers, with pristine buildings scattered among the lush landscaping, and try not to dwell on the fact I may not be here to enjoy the view ever again after tomorrow.

I sigh, pulling out a pearl and rolling it between my fingertips as I walk aimlessly.

Eventually I get to a crossroad and decide to turn right. Off the bat it becomes apparent Hades’ home is one in a row of fourteen all lined up on the same side of the street, with views out both the front and back. Ten guesses as to who claim the other homes.

Each house—or mega-mansion, really—reflects the deity who lives there the same way their armor does, to the point of being almost one-dimensional. Poseidon’s is all ocean, Zeus’ lightning, Demeter’s harvest, and so forth. Do they focus so much on what they are the god or goddess of that they don’t think they can be anything else?

I’d rather not run across any of the major deities on my own, rules or no rules, so I hurry out of that grouping of buildings and around a small lake formed between the valleys of two mountains fed by Poseidon’s brilliant blue waters. Up ahead and above me, buildings are spaced along the side of the terrain in a way that makes me think of a little mountain town, and that’s where I’m headed.

Until, halfway across a larger field, I spot a pegasus in the distance.

Not just one but a herd of them, in all different colors, grazing peacefully in a field of tall grasses mixed with vibrant flowers everywhere.

It’s not until I’m crossing a nearby bridge over a burbling stream that I stop. I lean against the rail of the bridge, staring at a rose-colored pegasus. Despite the lingering ache of what happened to Isabel, my heart settles as the mare lifts her head to look right back as though she were seeing into my soul. She’s close to the road, and I can hear her feathers slide against one another when she ruffles her wings as she grazes.

The only warning I get that I’m not otherwise alone is the distinct pounding of running feet. That and the pegasus lifts her head again.

I whirl just in time to see Dex, murderous intent written in every line of his face, brown eyes narrowed to slits as he barrels toward me.

“You made me look like a coward,” he hollers.

I grab my relic from the back of my tactical vest, sliding it free and taking the axe in two hands, lifting it over my head to throw.

Don’t make me do this.

“Already?” At the sound of an amused female voice, we both freeze.

I lower my weapon to my side as Aphrodite approaches. She looks at Dex, and her smile is one sirens would envy. “Don’t you wish—”

I drop my axe, and it clanks to the ground as I slap my hands over my ears, so I have no idea what she says to him next, but Dex suddenly relaxes, arms loose at his sides, then turns and walks away without a second glance at me.

I slowly lower my hands, staring at her.

And she smiles, eyes twinkling. “I’m guessing Hades warned you?”

“Yes.”

She doesn’t seem concerned as she watches Dex’s retreating back. “I’m not a fan of bullies.”

“Me neither,” I say faintly as she closes the gap between us. “What’d you make him do?”

Her smile turns mysterious. “Nothing too naughty.”

This is Aphrodite like I’m guessing very few people see her. She looks my age, wearing yoga pants and a sweatshirt, and her gorgeous dark hair is piled up on top of her head in a messy bun. No makeup, no adornments, just the raw beauty of the goddess—the kind of beauty that inspires poets and wars.

She reaches down, picks up my relic, and takes a long look at it. “Hades gave up one of his precious axes?”

“No,” I say cautiously.

She arches an eyebrow in question as she holds it out to me. She must realize from my expression I don’t plan to say more and asks instead, “Could you actually have hit Dex with it?”

I take the axe, flip it upside down, and shove it into the hidden pocket in my vest, the weight of the metal fitting comfortably against the small of my back. “Yes.”

“Would you have?” she asks next.

Honestly, I don’t know. But being honest with a goddess who is not my patron seems like a very bad idea. “Of course.”

Aphrodite leans on the bridge railing, looking over to the rose-colored pegasus, who is still watching me while chewing on another bite of grass. “You did well today.”

I glance down at my feet. That is not a compliment I want, not given what happened. “Tell that to Hades.”

“Did my brother lay into you? He’s all bark and…” She makes a face. The kind that if I made it, I’d look like a troll, but on her…jeez. “Well, his bite can be pretty bad, too, but he only uses it when he has to.” She considers me. “A little like you and your axe.”

I’m starting to realize that, too. “He was…fine.”

Her gaze turns thoughtful. “That was a rough death.”

“Yeah.”

“I could make you feel better.” She steps even closer, and her hand touches mine. Warmth flows through me, loosening my muscles and… “Don’t you wish—”

I yank my hand away and clap my palms over my ears. “Thanks, but I’d rather work through it on my own.” I’m probably talking too loudly now.

Aphrodite pouts, then mouths back, “Fine.”

When I lower my hands, she says, “Hades is no fun, telling you about that. I was only going to take away the sadness. Just for a little bit. Replace it with pleasure.”

If the tiny moment of warmth I experienced is any indication, I have a good idea what she means by pleasure. “Errr… It’s sweet of you to offer.”

In her own way, at least. And at least she’s not trying to harm me right now. I glance around, realizing we’re really all alone.

“But Hades told you not to let me,” she guesses.

I can’t help but chuckle. “A little bit that, but mostly…I earned the sadness. I’d rather feel it.”

Which makes the goddess tilt her head to study me, and I try not to fidget under her direct, searching gaze. “Good for you, little mortal. Most of your kind would take the reprieve and not look back.”

They probably would, and maybe I’m a fool not to.

She waves a hand down the path. “If you head this way, through the entertainment district to the other side, you’ll find the temples where we go to listen to prayers. Maybe you’d like to honor your lost champion there.”

My lost champion. As if this goddess has nothing to do with it. But, like Hades said, we’re butterflies to them, and Aphrodite is being kind in this moment. I guess deities, like mortals, are complicated.

“But be careful.” She glances at the weapon in my hand. “I hope you really do know how to use that.”

In other words, watch my back. Got it.

“You’re actually nice.” The words pop out, and I mumble, “Sorry.”

Aphrodite laughs. “Don’t tell the others.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s hard enough to be taken seriously when love is up against powers like storm, war, knowledge, and death.”

“Seems to me that love can calm storms, end wars, make fools of smart people, and bridge the gap between life and death. Doesn’t that make it the most powerful?”

She stares at me with something like…appreciation. Warmth radiates from her in a way that makes me want to lean closer to bask in the glow a little more.

“For that, Lyra Keres, I will share with you a secret.”

I blink at her.

“Two, actually, because I find I like you.” She smiles—not the breathtaking kind, but self-deprecating, as if she can’t quite believe she admitted that. “The first is that my Labor will be about the person you love most in this world.”

Oh. My shoulders slump as my mind churns with a fear I didn’t even realize I carried. I don’t love anyone. Sure, there’s Boone, but I’m not sure a crush—or admiration, for that matter—counts as love. There’s no one else. Not really. Not Felix or my parents. I learned long ago it would be foolish to ever let anyone into my heart—a one-way trip to misery, given my curse.

I brush aside the memory of being wrapped in Hades’ arms. That’s not love, either.

What if I have no one? Oh, good gods. I’m going to show up to Aphrodite’s Labor, and the whole immortal world will be watching. Hades will be watching. If there’s no one there for me, humiliating won’t even cover it.

Aphrodite’s smile manages to be comforting and amused at the same time at the look of horror surely overtaking my face right now. She pats my shoulder awkwardly, then coughs and continues. “The second secret is more a…warning.”

I wait.

“Hades is one of my favorites,” she confides. The breeze picks up tendrils of hair that have escaped her bun, blowing them artistically around her face. “But he has a hidden agenda, playing in the Crucible. One I haven’t quite figured out yet, but I know him. He doesn’t do things without a specific reason.”

I believed you were strong enough to survive the Crucible. There are other reasons, but I did think that. Hades’ words rattle around in my head.

Other reasons.

“Are you warning me not to trust him?” I ask.

“I’m warning you that nothing is ever as it seems with my brother.” Aphrodite shrugs like this is no big deal, but her gaze holds mine intently. “And when he wants something, he can be the most ruthless of us all.”