“Nor me,” Aphrodite said, cocking her head. “Rushing down the corridors and then vanishing? That could have just been Zeus and Poseidon going down into the tunnels.”
I perked up a bit at that. “Tunnels?”
Aphrodite jerked her head toward me, then pressed her lips together. Dionysos shifted on his feet, looking a bit sick. Demeter shot them both a look full of disdain. All my weariness was suddenly forgotten as I examined each of them in turn, noting their distinct discomfort. Aphrodite had just let something slip, something the Olympians did not want me to know about.
“Ah.” Demeter rubbed a hand across the top of her coiled black hair. “It’s where they keep the sacrifices. Zeus didn’t want you to know about it because he thought you might try something similar to what your mother did once.”
My mouth went dry. “What did my mother do?”
“She didn’t like that the sacrifices were kept down there, so she released them and moved them into the rooms along the west wing. Where you’re staying now.”
A small smile played across my lips. “That sounds like something she would have done.”
“Well, I’m sure you can imagine Zeus’s reaction,” Aphrodite said, “especially when one of the sacrifices nearly escaped. The woman made it as far as the beach, but the guards who were stationed there caught her. In retaliation, Zeus ensured the woman’s subsequent sacrifice was torturous.”
I was surprised my mother never told me about this, though perhaps she was worried I might try the same thing. And I had long since realized there was a lot she’d kept from me. Far too much.
“All right, this is just getting depressing now. Enough talk of Zeus,” Dionysos cut in, grabbing our arms and dragging us away from the corner. “Let’s celebrate!”
“Celebrate what?” Aphrodite asked, laughing as he dragged us over to the harp.
“We are alive. A ceremony failed, but Erebus didn’t take our immortality away from us. If that’s not a reason to celebrate, I don’t know what is.”
Frustrated, I followed along with it, but I was nowhere near satisfied by the answers they’d given me. I wanted to know more about the tunnels, the treatment of the sacrifices, and how long ago my mother had done this. It must have been before I was born. The High Queen I’d known, she never would have been so boldly rebellious against the rules of the Thirteen Crowns.
But the Olympians had already moved on. Dionysos snapped his fingers at Apollo, then pointed at the instrument.
Apollo smiled and took his perch beside the harp. When he began to pluck the strings, filling the megaron with a rich, sweeping song, the tension in my body eased a touch. I’d been coiled tight since we’d entered the palace, certain that everything would come falling down on us at any moment.
It had gone far better than I’d expected. Far better than we deserved, if I were being honest. The success of Nekros was essential to the survival of the peace treaty. And if we lost that, I’d lose Troy. Any move I made against Zeus needed to be logical and measured and timed just right. This had been reckless.
It was impossible not to stew in how badly I’d failed.
I should have insisted we stay on the island. Ares had been desperate, not seeing things clearly. I should have talked some sense into him, given the gravity of the situation. And I should have insisted we take Hestia back to the palace and invoke a threshold curse instead of putting her on a boat.
For reasons I couldn’t explain, I had lost sight of things. Duty had always been a compass to me. Every time I was unsure of a decision, I looked to it as an answer. What was the best course of action for me to reach my goals? And when I focused on that, I always knew what to do.
Out there, in the wilderness with Ares, I hadn’t been asking myself that question.
I wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
After a song or two, I eased onto a chair to rest my aching feet. I needed a bath and a bed, and soon. It was only a few hours until sundown, if that. At this rate, I’d have a little less than an hour to rest my eyes.
I pushed up from the chair, speaking to no one in particular. “I’m going to my room. Enjoy the rest of your celebration.”
Ares was there before I got halfway to the door. His broad shoulders blocked out the torchlight behind him. “Where are you going?”
“Bath. Bed.” It took all my energy just to utter those two words. If I had time, I’d have a quick look for those tunnels, too. But first? Rest.
“Good. I am as well.” He extended his arm to me, his brow arched suggestively. I was too tired to argue, so I slid my hand into the crook of his arm and walked with him out the door.
When we were halfway down the corridor, I pulled away from him. “Goodnight, Ares.”
I started moving toward the west wing, but Ares grabbed me my the waist and pulled me against him. His chest rumbled against mine when he spoke. “And where do you think you’re going?”
Frowning, I cast a glance toward the open megaron doors. Aphrodite and Hephaestus were both hovering near the entrance, watching us, transfixed.
Oh, for the love of Hades.
