He smiles briefly, but it’s not a happy look. “You’re not a stranger, though, are you? You’re the prize.”
Thanks for reminding me. I glance at the Minotaur. He watches both of us with an empty look in his blue eyes. Creepy. I give them both a mock sympathetic look. “You don’t stand a chance of winning, and our women know their place is equal to everyone else. Go home before you embarrass yourselves.” I feel sorry for the women in question if he’s telling the truth, but where could he possibly originate from? Mars?
Theseus shakes his head. “You’re proof that Olympus is soft. You and your people have lived in the lap of luxury for so long, you’ve forgotten what it’s like in the real world.”
Cold slithers through me. “I suppose you’re here to teach us the error of our ways. Lucky us.”
“You have quite the mouth on you. We’ll work on that.”
The panic I experienced from that confrontation with Paris comes back—with interest. A single conversation with this man, and he’s quickly competing with my ex for the person I least want to win. It’s more than the threat he poses to me personally; it’s the way he’s calling Olympus soft as if he’ll have an opportunity to change it. Maybe I was too hasty in writing off a coup attempt. We cannot allow either of them to win. I shudder. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
He leans forward, but the Minotaur grunts. Whatever the relationship between these two, that sound is enough to call Theseus off. He leans back and closes his eyes, effectively ending the conversation.
It’s just as well. I feel a bit like cracked glass at the moment. One wrong move will shatter me completely. It doesn’t make any sense. I passed the first trial; I should be ecstatic. I should be celebrating. Instead, I’m fighting the urge to cry.
What in the gods’ names is wrong with me?
I don’t have an answer by the time we arrive back at the dorms. I keep my gaze on the floor as we file back to our respective rooms. It’s only when I close the door between me and the rest of the world that I start to shake. At least I held it together until this moment when I can break down alone.
Which is right around the moment I realize I’m not actually alone.
Hermes and Dionysus lounge on my couch. She’s flipping through channels so quickly, there’s no way she’s registering each one. He’s supine on the couch, his head in her lap while she idly sifts her fingers through his hair.
I should be happy to see them. They’re my friends after all, and I was just thinking about how much I miss them last night when I was all alone and out of sorts. I sigh. I should stop using the word should. It doesn’t matter that they’re my friends, because they’re my friends second. As with my siblings, for Hermes and Dionysus, being a member of the Thirteen comes first. “What are you two doing here?”
“Silly question. We came to see you, bestie.” Hermes clicks off the television and angles her body to face me. Her hair bobs around her head in black ringlets, and she’s wearing bright-pink lipstick that sets off her dark-brown skin and matches her jumpsuit and shoes. Her style is flawless, as always.
Dionysus lets out a faint snore. He’s got on a graphic T-shirt from some band I’ve never heard of and a pair of faded jeans. His mustache is curled perfectly despite the nap, so he’s either faking it or he just fell asleep.
It doesn’t matter. I don’t have the energy for this right now. “I need a shower and a meal before I do anything remotely entertaining.” Not that I can leave the house or property while I’m a champion, but Hermes and Dionysus are more than capable of creating their own entertainment. Especially with the kinds of people the champions are comprised of.
“Oh fine, you caught me.” Hermes rolls her eyes, though she’s still smiling. Enjoying herself at my expense. No reason to take it personally; Hermes enjoys herself at everyone’s expense. “I have a message for you from your brother.”
Disappoint lashes me. Trust my brother to send Hermes in her official capacity instead of coming himself. I try to keep my feelings off my face. “How strange that he couldn’t make the time to have a polite little sit-down with me. It’s enough to make a sister doubt where she stands on his list of priorities.” Kind of like when he makes plans to marry off said sister without consulting her first.
“You know how it is.” She shrugs and starts braiding Dionysus’s hair. It’s short enough that she makes quick work of each braid, but they stand out straight from his head. “Zeus is busy being Zeus. Ruling Olympus, putting out fires, entertaining our out-of-town visitors.” She gives a mischievous smile. “And being married to that Hera is a full-time job on its own.”
I don’t comment on the fact that Hera is the one who suggested I join the tournament in spite of me being the prize. If Hermes doesn’t already know—and how could she?—I’m not about to be the one to tell her. I don’t think she’d run right to my brother with the information, but she likes to keep people on their toes, so I can’t guarantee it.
Besides, I’m certain Callisto’s motivation was simply to stir the pot and cause trouble, even if she indirectly helped me in the process. If Perseus finds out his wife prodded me into this action, it will cause even more drama. No matter her reasons, Callisto did me a favor by snapping me out of my self-pity spiral. I won’t out her. “No one twisted his arm and forced a ring on his finger.” Not like he’s done to me.
“You’d be surprised.” She finishes another braid. “Will you hear the message?”
As if I have a choice. “Yes.”
She clears her throat, and a startling approximation of my brother’s deeper voice emerges from her lips. “You’ve had your fun. It’s over now. Resign before the next trial.”
I wait, but she seems to be finished. “That’s it? Normally he likes to threaten some kind of consequence.”
Hermes shrugs. “He’s a little distracted. The Minotaur and Theseus didn’t come to Olympus alone, and your brother has his hands full dealing with the leader of their little group, Minos.”
Easy enough to read between the lines. Their leader is here, watching me make a fool of my brother and the rest of the Thirteen. It’s undermining Zeus’s authority and doing the exact thing he doesn’t want—making us look weak. More like making him look weak.
Olympus needs a firm hand.
A sliver of regret goes through me. I might want to wring my brother’s neck right now, but even I can admit he’s likely doing the best he can in circumstances not of his own making. He hadn’t thought to take over the title of Zeus for years yet, but our father’s unexpected death changed the whole timeline. I do want Olympus safe and stable.
Maybe I should resign.