Kato looks up from the lyre, his eyes troubled. “You’re resourceful. And tough.”
“Why, thank you. But it had protective horns, a clubbed tail, and—oh, that’s right—three heads!”
Kato’s expression shifts into something I could almost call a smile for the first time since I found him. He plucks the chords again in the beginnings of a tune I recognize, a ballad popular in southern Sinta. His fingers move with skill and subtlety over the strings. I had no idea he was musical.
“Maybe we’re not meant to kill it.” He keeps playing. “Doesn’t music soothe the beast? I’ll play, you sing.”
“I sound like a strangled Satyr when I sing.”
He smiles. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”
“There’s no need for mudslinging,” I say with a huff.
He chuckles softly. “I can carry a tune.”
“Great!” I pat his arm. “That’ll be your job. I’ll stand back—waaaaay back—while you calm the beast. I’m confident you’ll sound as good as you look.”
His chest puffs out. “How do I look?”
“Terrible.” I grin. “You needed a bath, a shave, and a comb before we even set foot on the Ice Plains. Now, I can just barely make out your eyes and your nose. The rest is all”—I flap my hands around—“hair.”
His chest deflates. He eyes me wryly. “I could say the same about you.”
I gasp. “I grew a beard? Do you think Griffin will like it? I’ve been trying to keep it neat, but I may have picked up an eel.”
Kato laughs outright, and he really is unbearably handsome. Some of the grimness evaporates from his eyes. “I was talking about this.” He gives one of my tousled waves a light tug.
I once saw Griffin do that to Kaia. It’s brotherly. Affectionate. My heart squeezes in my chest. My love for Griffin is completely different, but Kato has a piece of me that no man ever had, not even Aetos. Katoseesme, and accepts. In that moment, I realize he’s slipped inside my soul right next to Eleni. They’re a blond-haired, blue-eyed, sunny pair—my light in the dark.
Clearing my throat doesn’t drive away the thick lump in it, or dispel the sudden tightness, so I make a show of smoothing down my hair—a lost cause at this point. “Ah, that. It’s getting to the stage where it deserves a name. The Knotted Nest? The Twisted Tresses?”
“What about the Terrible Tangle?”
I nod. “That has serious possibilities.”
“The Matted Mess?” he suggests.
My jaw drops. “It’s not that bad!”
Grinning, Kato pats my head. “Let’s get out of here.”
Yes, please!“I have your clothes. They’re even dry, thanks to your Eternal Fires of the Underworld Cloak.”
He quirks an eyebrow, taking the things I hand him. “That gets a name, too?”
“I should think so,” I answer loftily.
“Have you named your sword yet?”
I shake my head. “Your mace is outside.” His knives are tucked into his boots, like always.
“I know.” He looks me over, frowning. “Where is your sword?”
“In the beast’s tunnel, along with two knives.” I bite my lip. “I have to warn you… I may have, uh, gone in a few circles. Here and there.”
Kato barks a sudden laugh. “Of course you did.”
I give him a halfhearted evil eye and then turn my back while he changes. The God-sized bed and other low, lavish furniture have fruit bowls and filled platters all around them. I gather food, devouring a bunch of grapes while I’m packing up the rest.
