“Hey!” Lethe calls, moving down the bar to where she can see him better. “You going to replace that?”
“Does the little mortal really think I wanted to kill my own champion?” Poseidon barks at the shattered screen.
A nymph sitting beside him tries to calm him. “Of course she wouldn’t think that. The mortals don’t know what happened. The Daemones only returned the body and announced the winner of the Labor. They didn’t explain how she died—or why.” When that doesn’t seem to work, she adds, “They’re probably all blaming Hades anyway.”
As everyone around her nods in agreement, I swallow the bile rising in my throat. Poseidon flops back against his seat with a harrumph, crossing his arms.
Lethe grimaces, then slides her focus from him to me. “You’d better get out of here before he notices you.”
I’m already on that same page, my gaze darting between Poseidon and the door. But my breath catches as I realize the angry god’s attention is turning—to me.
34
Zai Aridam
In a blink, I slip out the door and back onto the street. I don’t breathe easy until I leave the entertainment district behind entirely, heading west toward the temples.
Since Aphrodite offered the original suggestion, I decide to pray for Isabel in hers, so I aim toward the one that screams goddess of love thanks to the pink glow coming from inside it. Apparently, Hades isn’t the only one who publicly leans into perception but privately is something quite different.
As I pass the temple dedicated to Hermes, though, movement inside catches my eye, and I pause. The boniness of Zai Aridam’s shoulders is hard to mistake. His back is to me, and I can see the way his dark hair curls a little against the nape of his neck.
Hesitation stays my steps. Clearly, he is praying, and maybe, like me, he’s struggling with what happened today. In which case, I should just give him privacy. But…
I need allies. It’s the whole reason I’m risking my neck being out here.
Does this make me an opportunistic bitch? Probably. But I walk inside all the same.
Lit by oil lamps along the walls and between columns, the temple is a simple circular room with a shrine at the front—a beautifully carved, almost lifelike depiction of Hermes mid-flight, with his winged helm and winged sandals. He holds his staff in one hand like a weapon, and clouds spiral down from his feet. Serpents and wings adorn the domed roof, and two potted palm trees stand to either side of the shrine.
Zai is standing directly before the statue, head bowed. Freshly lit incense burns, rising in an undulating tail of smoke and filling the room with a layer of clove and cinnamon with lavender, lemon, and safflower blended in a scent so familiar to me, it’s like coming home. After all, until now, I’ve prayed to this god more than any other.
“Do you come here to pray to the god of thieves?” Zai’s question comes out of nowhere, since he hasn’t so much as lifted his head. I didn’t even realize he knew I was here.
“No. I was going to…” I hesitate, glancing around. Talking about praying to a different deity while in another’s temple is probably a bad idea. “I saw you.”
He lifts his head, turning slowly to look at me. “I see.” He seems to study my face. I’m not sure what he thinks he’ll find there. “So, you are here to kill me, then?”
I can’t help the knee-jerk reaction that makes me hold a hand out toward him. “No!”
Confusion flickers in eyes the color of oak. “No?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Don’t you blame me? For Isabel’s death?” He holds himself completely still. “Or maybe you consider her death lucky. One less competitor.”
I pull my shoulders back. “If that’s how you see it, then we have no need to talk.”
I spin around and am nearly to the entrance before his voice stops me. “That’s not how I see it.”
When I turn, he’s sort of hunched over and his eyes are half closed, as if that little outburst was all the energy he had left and now he’s having a hard time staying on his feet. Not for the first time, I wonder what’s up with his health. Is he sick or something? He’s spent the last hundred years in Olympus… Does their food not nourish mortals?
I consider leaving him alone to rest.
“What did you want to talk about?” he asks, opening his eyes fully.
I take a step forward. “It seems to me that you and I could—”
“Zai!” a voice shouts from somewhere outside. “Zai!”
Zai’s eyes go wide with fear. “Hide,” he hisses at me.
“What? I—”
“It’s my father. If he sees you in here with me…” He shakes his head, but the implication of dire consequences for me is easy enough to pick up.
There aren’t exactly a lot of places to disappear in here, but I squeeze myself between one of the columns and the wall and pray Mathias Aridam doesn’t come to this side of the temple. Hopefully, the flickering of the lamplight doesn’t give me away with a shadow on the wall.
I’m out of sight just as Mathias stomps into the room. “Here you are, boy. Wasting your precious energy on guilt for that woman still.”
“She had a name, Father,” Zai says. “Isabel.”
I frown at the difference in Zai’s voice from a second ago—it’s gone flat, emotionless.
“A name that is not worth learning. She’s already dead.”
Wow. Heart of gold, this one.
