Why doesn’t he wake up? Get up? What’s holding him down?
Zai leaves a woman who is a smaller, softer version of him to come to where Boone and I are standing. After a quick glance at Boone, Zai stands beside me, facing Dae. “Amir’s blessing from Hera has apparently shown itself.”
“And it’s making Dae scream?”
Zai nods. “Hera’s blessing is vengeance. Dae is the reason Amir lost his Strength flag in the last Labor, and her blessing is that any champion who hinders or hurts Amir during the course of the Crucible will reap the consequences in the next challenge.”
Dae screams again, so long that his voice runs out but his mouth remains open.
I flinch.
“Easy,” Boone murmurs to me.
And Zai shoots him a frowning look.
A curse from the gods. I feel the blood drain from my face, leaving me lightheaded. “Is he in pain?” I whisper.
Zai’s expression fills with reluctant concern. “No. The curse trapped him in his body. It’s not Amir’s doing. He has no control over it. It just…is.” Zai glances out the window. Evening has almost swallowed the light of the sun, turning the sky dark blue except at the westernmost horizon, where it is still changing from deep purple. “Dae can’t go save his loved one.”
“Who is it?”
“His grandmother.”
I close my eyes against the knowledge and sight of what that’s doing to Dae. His grandmother, who he loves most in the world, is going to die, and he can’t get to her. He can’t save her.
The fervor and timbre of Dae’s screams heighten, and the sort of bolted-down thrashing of his body only escalates, growing worse and worse, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes, until suddenly he goes quiet and horribly still.
A quick glance shows that the sun is gone, taking the day with it.
It’s too late.
Dae’s grandmother is dead.
He blinks his eyes open slowly, looking up at the ceiling for a long, silent moment. Then he puts his hands over his face and sobs.
68
Me…And Them
“I see you survived.” Hades is waiting in the center of the foyer of his home when Boone and I walk in. He stands with his hands loosely in his black suit pant pockets, the sleeves of his silver button-down shirt rolled up. Why is he dressed like that?
His tone and gaze are back to calculating, lethal-edged steel. No hint of the man who shared small parts of himself with me in my bedroom.
“Both of you.”
I’ve never seen Boone go so still as when he stares down the god of death. “So, you’re the asshole who put Lyra’s life in jeopardy by making her play in these fucked-up games.”
Hades doesn’t react with so much as a twitch. “So, you’re the thief who thought he made it in and out of my home without notice.”
Boone frowns, glancing at me, then back to Hades before his expression turns sly in a way I am more than familiar with. He’s up to something.
“Caught that, did you?” Boone snakes a hand around my waist, giving me a squeeze. “Just trying to help.”
“I know.” Hades doesn’t even glance at that arm around me. “It’s why I let you live.”
Oh, good grief.
I shrug away from Boone’s touch, which he doesn’t really mean. He’s just fucking with Hades. “Why don’t you two get acquainted while I change.”
“No time.” Hades snaps his fingers, and Boone and I are wearing new clothes.
Now both men are wearing black suit pants and crisp button-downs, except Boone’s shirt is white. This is the dressiest I’ve seen him. I’m wearing a conservative black pantsuit with loose legs and long sleeves, with a butterfly made of glittering thread over my heart.
I glance from it to Hades, but he’s still closed off. Giving away nothing.
“We have a…party…to attend,” he says.
A what? “You’ve got to be joking.”
Hades just shakes his head, and we follow him out the door and over one house to Zeus’ home—yes, with lightning and clouds adorning everything and a lot of glitz, flash, and over-the-top decor. The god would do well as a designer for Vegas casinos.
In a large ballroom—and yes, Zeus has a freaking ballroom, with a mural of nymphs and cherubs serving him and only him painted on the ceiling—we are led to chairs at one of two long, beautifully decorated banquet tables that face each other. We’re at the very end of ours, near the open doors that lead out onto a terrace. Ares, Neve, and a girl who is apparently her sister are to Hades’ left, then me and Boone to Hades’ right. I’m stuck in the middle, so to speak. Dae, of course, isn’t here. Artemis is seated at a table by herself with no champion and no loved one, conspicuous as hell. And Aphrodite isn’t seated with Jackie and the young man with her. Her brother, I think.
This is a nightmare.
Maybe I didn’t rescue anyone and Hypnos and Morpheus still have me trapped in my sleeping body.
