I straighten. Someone who dares to talk back to Hades? Not just that…he’s reprimanding Hades. “Oh, I like you.”
Hades’ mouth thins. “She didn’t tell me.”
Asclepius snorts. “You should have known. You were right there when she hit those stairs.”
Before Hades can answer, Asclepius pats my shoulder. “I won’t be able to do this after the first Labor starts, my dear. Any magical healing is reserved only for the winner of each and the champions who share the victor’s virtue.”
Great. The Labors might require healing. And I’m the only one in the Survival virtue, which means if I don’t win, I don’t get healed. Just one more check mark in the “against Lyra” column.
I should stop keeping that list. It’s depressing.
“Best of luck. Play well.” Then Asclepius is gone as fast as he appeared.
Hades is still in thundercloud mode, so I roll my shirt back down, zip up my vest—it’s much more comfortable now—and turn my stool back to the island so I can finally finish my food, which is probably cold at this point.
“Next time, tell me,” he says.
“Fine.”
We both fall into silence, but he feels far too broody at my side, and it’s making the muscles in my shoulders coil. “Do you know what today’s challenge is?” I ask.
Hades shakes his head. “Only the god or goddess who devises the Labor knows. They aren’t even supposed to tell their own champion, though I’m guessing most find a way around that.”
I pause mid-chew, then finish the bite. I’m never going to get these eggs into me at this rate. “Will you be devising a Labor?”
“No. I’ve been informed it’s too late. I would have had to square it with the Daemones a year ago.”
Terrific. I will be unprepared for every single Labor, while at least one champion will likely have a leg up in each. I chew that over along with more breakfast.
I’m a little lost in my own head, which is probably why Hades’ question is like a bolt from the blue.
“Who was the man in your room last night?”
24
Caught Off Guard
I splutter and choke on inhaled egg, gulping down tea to try to help. When I can finally breathe, I carefully put my fork down. “You didn’t hurt Boone, did you?”
“No. He left here unharmed and unaware of my notice.”
Well, thank the gods for that. But I can’t get a good read on Hades, whose expression is as neutral as it gets.
“He’s your lover?” he asks, sounding bored.
I’d laugh if he wasn’t poking at a sore spot that will probably never heal. “Obviously not,” I say carefully instead.
It turns out gods can feel guilty. Just a tad, the expression gone as fast as it came, but I caught it.
“He’s one of the master thieves in my den. Not even a friend.” I pause, because after last night, I’m not certain that’s true.
“Then why was he here?”
A very good question. I wish I knew. “To bring me my things. He was helping me avoid someone when you selected me—and watched me disappear.”
“Your not-friend was helping you avoid who?”
“It’s a long story.”
“And you don’t want to tell me.” What is going on with his voice now? I thought I was starting to get a grasp on his tones and their meanings. A glance shows his face is still neutral enough. Even so, he sounds off.
“Not really. No.” I get up and go to the sink to wash my plate and the pan.
“Are you in love with him?”
I set the pan down in the sink with a bit of a clatter and face him. “You really cut right to the heart of things, don’t you?”
He cocks his head, looking mildly interested. “Are you?”
Hells, I really don’t want to talk about this. “It doesn’t matter.” I turn back to the sink.
There’s a telling pause behind me. “It’s good if you’re not. The less worry you leave behind, the better you’ll do in the Crucible.”
Which brings me back to reality with a thump, and I hadn’t even realized I’d left it. His voice wasn’t tight because he cared about what was going on with me or how my life might be affected. All Hades cares about is his end goal, whatever that may be, and I’m just a stepping stone to get there.
Something I’d be smart to remember.
