99

99

Plans & Schemes

I take a bite of the mango-and-strawberry sorbet cake two satyrs made for my dessert tonight and groan. “Oh my gods, Z, you need to taste this.”

Zeles grunts, staring at the cards in his hand fiercely. “Don’t call me Z.”

He hates it, which is why I do it.

The Daemones take turns babysitting me. They’re not so bad once you get to know them, and I welcome the distraction, given that they’re the only thing in here to keep me company other than the computer. Though I still haven’t figured out how to make Zeles crack a smile. But he’ll play card games with me, using the food slot in the glass wall to pass cards back and forth.

After three days here, I’m thinking of never leaving. Peace, quiet, entertainment, privacy of a sort—in the bathroom, at least—and meals to die for. The cooks figured out that I have a thing for fruit and have managed to work it into every meal. Like the bite of heaven in my mouth right now.

And every single second, every moment of every day, I am mentally working through how I’m going to face Hades before the next Labor and how I’m going to move on with my life after this is over.

That and trying to hold back how that makes me feel.

I shovel in another bite and pick up a card, then grin. “Gin.” The word comes out garbled around the food in my mouth as I lay my cards down.

Zeles grunts, then scowls, and I laugh.

“I only needed one more,” he grumbles and tosses the cards in his hands to the ground in a huff. Then he eyes me narrowly. “You’ve got to be using your thief skills to cheat.”

“Nope. I never did master the card shark or sleight-of-hand stuff for that.”

He gives me a dubious look.

I swallow my bite. “You’re going to have to pick those up, you know. I can’t from this side.”

I’m sitting cross-legged on the floor, but thanks to the wings, he can’t, so he usually stands and stalks around as he thinks.

He grunts again.

There’s a knock on the door that leads into this row of about five cells, and he stomps over and swings it wide.

“Lyra has a visitor,” a Daemon named Bia tells him. “He’s been checked.”

Even though I know “he” can’t be Hades—he’s not allowed—my stupid heart, which apparently can’t learn hard lessons, kicks into overdrive.

I’ve had a visitor each day, always in the evenings after dinner. Cerberus and Charon have both come by once each. I sit up straighter to see who comes through the door.

Zai walks in.

My heart puts on the brakes.

His face is a study of both fascinated interest in seeing the inside of my prison…and guilt.

I get to my feet and wave. “Hi.”

“They’re treating you well?” he asks as he approaches, keeping an eye on Zeles.

I smile, trying to show Zai I’m fine. “Yes.”

“Trinica and Amir would have come with me, but they’re only allowing a single visitor each day.”

Not Meike, though. Because she’s dead.

“I know. I appreciate that. Tell them thanks.”

He grimaces. “I should be the one in here. I killed…” He can’t even say Dex’s name.

What he’s carrying is so heavy, I can feel it through my glass prison. I knew it. I knew he’d take that guilt and hold on to it.

“It was an accident,” I say. “He would have killed me, and it just…happened.”

Zai looks away. “I know.”

“I’m not in here because of that,” I tell him, dry as dust.

He frowns. “Then why?”

I shift into baby talk. “I called Athena a mean word and the wittle, baby goddess got her feewings huwt.”

“Fuck, Lyra. You are just asking to get sent to Tartarus,” Zeles mutters darkly, glancing around as if he expects retribution to strike.

With an uncaring shrug that is some of my best acting yet, I shoot the Daemon a pointed look. “Do you mind?”

He leaves us with a final grunt, closing the door behind him. At least they give me privacy with my visitors when I ask for it.

As soon as he’s gone, I focus on Zai. “Anyway, that’s why I’m in here. They don’t give two shits about dead champions.”

He blinks a little owlishly. “Oh.”

“But it’s good to see your face.” I lean closer to the glass, peering at him. “How are you?”

He shrugs. “My father came to congratulate me on a good kill.”

Good grief. Zai should take the Harpe of Perseus and skewer that man, too. “That’s harsh, even for Mathias.”

At least that gets Zai to huff a laugh. “He said he didn’t know I could swing a sword so well.”

“Well, he’ll be mortal again soon. That and dealing with the Overworld after living basically as a god will be his own personal hell.”

“Yeah.” Zai ducks his head, hiding a grin I’m sure he feels is inappropriate. We are, after all, talking about his father.

Suddenly, he steps closer to the glass, as close as he can without smashing his face. “I’ll try to win,” he says urgently. “And if I do, Hermes has promised to make Boone a god.”

My mouth falls open. “How in the name of Olympus did you manage that?”

“He’s the patron god of thieves.” Zai looks behind him to check the door, probably making sure none of the Daemones come rushing in if they heard that.

Not that it’s breaking any of their rules, but it gives me a chance to wrangle my own reaction under control. The tears burning my eyes are welling hard, making the sight of Zai’s face blurry.

“You are a good, good man, Zai Aridam,” I whisper.

He shakes his head. “Don’t thank me.”

I frown. “Why? Did you promise Hermes something in return?” I ask, suspicion making me watch him more closely.

“No.” He waves away my worry. “He came to me, actually.”

The hells he did. Why would Hermes do that? What possible reason? “Isn’t there anyone you would ask to bring back? Someone close to you?”

He shakes his head.

“Well…thank you from Boone and from me.” I put my palm against the glass, and Zai flattens his on the other side.

What else can I say?

“Thank you for asking me to be your ally,” he says. The smile he offers me is one I imagine old friends would share, full of understanding and acceptance and a need to be there for each other.

I like to think of him as a friend. Boone said I didn’t have friends, not because of my curse but because of the walls I put up. I didn’t with Zai, and he accepted me when he really never should have. Curse or no curse.

“I probably brought you more problems than solutions,” I say.

Zai’s smile widens to a grin. “I like solving problems.”

His expression is so endearing, I don’t bother to tell him the truth. Even if Zai wins the final Labor, I’m guessing he won’t win the Crucible. Not with one of his wins being a tie with Rima. Diego wins. No matter what. But I’m not going to point that out. The gesture alone is…enough.

It also gives me an idea.

Hades won’t like it. Charon, either, for that matter. It’s a betrayal of sorts. But it’s also the right thing to do.

“Zai…I have a favor to ask.”

“What favor?” he asks. No wariness. No suspicion. Only trust.

I truly did pick the best possible ally for this nightmare. “You’re not going to like it.”