Perseus shifted beside me, rattling. With his face covered, it was impossible to read what his reaction meant.
Andromeda scoffed. “This trial was meant to determine how attached you are to the existence of these monstrous mortals, to see if your time spent here has helped loosen your misguided empathy for them. By bargaining for his life, you have failed.”
“What’s more important?” I countered. “These ‘trials’ you’ve designed for me or your quest for the mortal kingdoms? I thought it was the latter, but you’ve continued to focus on Aesir. Why?”
She motioned at the door. “Perseus, return her to her quarters and give the order to Callisto. Her beasts may feed.”
Perseus’s armored hand latched onto my arm, and he dragged me toward the study’s open door.
“Wait,” I called out, trying to think. “You’re searching for something in Aesir, something you need before you launch your ships. That’s why you’re looking at maps, right? If you let me bring the man back to life, he’ll spy for us. He can find whatever it is you’re looking for.”
Andromeda had returned her attention to the maps. She didn’t acknowledge my words as Perseus dragged me out of her study. His steel-covered fingers dug into me. They were cold, harsh, and unyielding against my skin. I tried to pull out of his grip, but it was as unbreakable as manacles.
“Fuck,” I muttered to myself, not bothering to hide my frustration.
“You would not have saved him either way,” Perseus said. “Whatever choice you made, it would have been the wrong one. So do not blame yourself.”
Torches passed by as we moved down the corridor. Their flickering flames cast an orange hue across the carpet, reminding me of Oberon, Albyria, and everything I’d been through this past year. And how I’d finally tried a different approach, but it wasn’t working.
So I dropped the mask. “Why are you trying to make me feel better? You should be glad I failed.”
“Glad,” he said, as if testing out a word he’d never spoken before. “I am not certain that is how I would describe the emotion you assume I’m experiencing at this moment.”
I peered up at him, frowning. “So then, how do you feel?”
“I do not feel emotion as you do. I simply am Perseus, the embodiment of fear and—”
“Perseus.” Callisto stepped from the shadows.
Just like the God of Fear, she’d dressed for battle. Rather than the scraps of metal Perseus had collected, her clothes looked as if they’d been molded to her frame. The fighting leathers were dyed a deep crimson, and her elbows and shoulders were fortified by steel.
Perseus removed his helm. I winced as his powerful fear poured over me, drowning me, choking the air from my lungs. I had the sudden urge to run, but I knew I wouldn’t get very far as long as he had a tight hold on me.
“Why aren’t you out with your beasts?” Perseus asked as he shook out his hair, like he was trying to toss off the constraints of his helm. He seemed to mostly wear it in Andromeda’s presence. Again, I couldn’t help but wonder at the relationships between these five gods.
“I was, then I got bored with all the waiting.” She turned her attention to me and smiled, though there was nothing soft in her expression. It was the kind of smile Oberon had always worn before he spoke his cruelties. “You’ve given up on your heroics, then? Can’t say I’m surprised. You mortals are so easy to break.”
“She didn’t break,” Perseus said. “Just like I said she wouldn’t. Sirius, too.”
Callisto frowned. “The wall’s out there, and she’s in here. I’ve been watching. She didn’t even attempt a rescue.”
“She thought she’d be clever and bargain with Andromeda. It didn’t work.”
Callisto looked far angrier about this than I would have expected. Lines bracketing her mouth, she huffed out a breath, whirled on her feet, and vanished down the corridor without another word. As soon as she was out of sight, Perseus started dragging me toward my quarters again, his steel boots as loud as drums.
“She thinks you’re a distraction, and that Andromeda should focus on our quest instead of you,” Perseus, surprisingly, explained. “She’s probably right. When one has a singular obsession, one will miss things that are happening right in front of them. Important things. Things that could change the course of everything.”
“What are you talking about?” I shook my head, my frustration reaching a fever pitch. Very little about today made sense. Callisto was acting oddly. Perseus was acting oddly. Even Sirius was acting oddly. I bet if I encountered Orion, he’d be acting oddly, too. The only one behaving more or less like herself was Andromeda.
We reached the door to my quarters. There were no guards around, but Perseus would call for them after he’d locked me inside. He paused before opening the door, examining me with eyes so distant they might as well have been lost amongst the stars.
“I’m afraid there is little more I can explain in my current form,” he finally said. I swore he almost sounded sad. “Just know, I am notgladabout any of it. Our quest, I mean. It’s difficult for me to explain when my words are…well, you will understand one day.”
“Whatquest?”
My heart pounded as I waited for his answer. I knew this could be another trick. Another trap, another trial. Andromeda could be testing how I would react to a hint of…well, the only thing I could call it wasrebellion. Perseus spoke as though he didn’t want to be a part of Andromeda’s quest to destroy humanity. But that couldn’t be true, right? She just wanted to see if I would believe him, if I would offer to help him rebel.
But there was something in his eyes—a conviction I couldn’t ignore. My gut told me it wasn’t a test.
