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Chapter 9

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The Red Knight and I strode into the ballroom, flanked by our escort, a pair of well-armed Greek soldiers from Ares’ security detail. To Knight’s chagrin, he’d been unsuccessful in convincing Yolanda to accompany him, which was probably for the best. He didn’t need the distraction and I wasn’t wholly convinced he’d survive prolonged exposure to her.

Tan brought up the rear, never far from his charge, as the three of us paused to survey the room.

“I’m beginning to feel a little overdressed,” I replied as I pulled at the coat of my three-piece tuxedo.

“Nonsense. That tux is a sartorial masterpiece.” Knight surveyed the room and leaned a little closer. “Though I must concede we do appear to be out of sync with the prevailing fashions of Olympia.”

The ballroom was full of more togas than I had seen in my life. Except perhaps for that one frat party I had attended in my youth which frankly I’d rather forget.

“Let’s split up, Seth. We need to mix and mingle. Talk to as many people as you can,” Knight said.

I was far from the life of any party, preferring to hover in the corner with the one or two people I might know. The idea of talking with any of the divine patrons or their champions had me more than a little on edge. It wasn’t as bad as my trip through Hades’ maze, but it was a close second. I hated mingling with new people.

“Do I have to?” I asked with the enthusiasm of a sixteen-year-old contemplating his chores.

“Why do you think we’re here?” Knight replied. “While winning this little contest would be extraordinary, this shindig is the closest thing we are likely to get to the United Nations of the supernatural world. How many Olympians have you met before today?”

“None,” I replied.

“Me too,” Knight replied, “and I’m a mortal. They aren’t really known for parlaying with us normals. This is our best opportunity to find out what’s going on. I suggest you make the most of it, as I will be.”

He wandered off. Raising a hand, he called out to Hachiman as if they were old friends. I couldn’t help but notice his first port of call was the warrior god. It wasn’t particularly surprising, but it was telling of Knight’s intentions.

I suspected that Edward was right. With everything I’d seen in Delphi, I knew there was something going on. The Olympians were feuding with each other. The established status quo that had been in place for millennia seemed to be fraying.

But that didn’t mean I could trust Knight either. In all things, Edward Knight looked out for himself and his interests first. I couldn’t rely on him to share what he learned. Case in point, he was willing to throw me to the wolves just to get a seat at this table. I was beginning to realize he didn’t particularly care whether I won or lost. Either way, he would make the most of the opportunity.

Well, if I couldn’t rely on him, I’d have to do my own reconnaissance.

Ares’ ballroom doubled as his throne chamber, and his seat of power, an immense golden throne, rested at one end of the chamber. A series of chandeliers, an elegant mix of crystal and gold, provided illumination, though how they were powered was another matter. Magic, I supposed. Somehow, I doubted the Areopagus paid a power bill. Overhead, long gauzy fabric was strung across the roof in a complex pattern resembling a spider’s web. It descended in neat sheets throughout the chamber to block out or at least obscure views. It created the illusion of a series of shelters throughout the ballroom with a large central area that had been left vacant for dancing though I noted none of the attendees seemed particularly keen on making use of the space.

“Nice suit. Whose body did you steal it off, scavenger?”

I turned to my right and found Reoánaighsidhe, the winter champion, standing with the CIA agent and Hera’s champion, Alexa. The priestess chuckled politely, while the agent looked on quietly.

I considered ignoring him but the way I saw this place, it was a prison yard. I couldn’t afford to show any signs of submission or weakness.

“I’m surprised you don’t recognize it,” I replied. “I took it from your closet. I figured you wouldn’t be needing it after tomorrow, but I must say it’s a little tight in the crotch.”

The Reoánaighsidhe’s hand went for his belt where his sword hung, but the priestess of Hera placed her hand on his.

“Easy, Reoánaigh. We’re still bound by guest rights. You wouldn’t violate them for this wastrel, surely?”

The Sidhe warrior relaxed. The Fae could be treacherous, dancing all over the spirit of the law, but the letter of it was unyielding. For him to harm a guest would bring not only Ares’ displeasure but his master’s as well.

“Do not worry, scavenger, I’ll find you on the field tomorrow. Your guest rights won’t protect you there, Biadh!”

I had no idea what that meant but given his rosy disposition and charming nature, I figured it was safe to assume he wasn’t wishing me well. I flashed the Reoánaighsidhe a grin and took my leave but was too busy watching my foe to see where I was going. I ran into Cora.

She tumbled forward a step, her heels not quite giving her the purchase she needed to steady herself. I caught her by the arm.

“My apologies. I wasn’t watching where I was going,” I offered quickly, as I let go of her arm.

The champion of discord stood and smoothed her dress. It was scarlet and hung off one shoulder, hugging her curves in a very enticing way. It was the sort of dress that could make a man walk into traffic without realizing the danger he was in.

Her blonde hair was worn high and fixed with a series of jewel studded accessories that kept it on the crown of her head. She was entrancing and I was engaged, I reminded myself. Delightful and distracting as she might have been, I was a one-woman man. I’d already given Lara enough reasons to kill me and while she had forgiven me, I wasn’t going to tempt fate here.

“Don’t even mention it,” Cora replied as the snickering behind us drew her eye. Doubtless the winter champion was regaling his new friends with commentary on my grace and poise.

Cora looked at me, then at the winter champion and placed a hand on my tux. “Don’t mind them. They’re not worth your time.”

She brushed a piece of lint off the tux as she seemed to consider things and then offered me her arm.

Oh, dear. Warning lights were blaring in my head. She was a fellow champion, and a beautiful one at that. There were a million reasons I should politely excuse myself and yet I couldn’t seem to get any of them to come out of my mouth.

I looked at her arm for a moment, which she took as tacit approval to thread it through mine and escort me further into the chamber.

Still, it was the closest thing to kindness anyone had shown me since I’d arrived here. Besides I told myself, Cora was the personal champion of the mistress of discord. If anyone knew what was awry among the Olympians, she would. Perhaps she could share some insights. I let her guide me onto the dance floor.

“Do you dance, Caldwell?” she asked as her lips turned upward into a smile.

“Poorly, and call me Seth,” I replied, with a level of charm and charisma that was closer to Dwight Schrute than 007.

“Show me, Seth,” she replied as she turned to face me and raised her hand.

I took her hand, wrapped my arm around her, and did my best not to embarrass myself with what few dance steps I could remember. The music was a leisurely ballad played on a series of unusual stringed instruments. As I looked closer, I realized the entire band was Sidhe musicians playing from behind one of the veiled shelters near the throne. The harmony was divine, but frankly I was looking for anything other than Cora’s lovely blue eyes to stare into.

“Penny for your thoughts?” she asked.

She expected me to keep time with my feet and speak at the same time? That seemed unlikely. It was the sort of thing that James Bond managed to do effortlessly on screen, but for me it was one too many tasks and I almost stood on her foot as I opened my mouth to inquire about herself.

“Sorry,” I said, before following quickly with, “So, how did you come to know Eris?”

Cora’s lips parted as her tongue brushed across them. “She found me. My life was a disaster. It started on the streets, where I fell in with some troublemakers and ended up running for my life with everything I could carry. She found me before an enforcer could finish the job. I’ve been with her ever since.”

“What does one do for the mistress of discord?” I asked. “Call me ignorant, but what need do the gods have for us mortals?”

“Plenty,” Cora said with a laugh. “I do things she cannot in the mortal world. In exchange, she has trained me, fed me, and kept me alive.”

I nodded. It sounded like a fair enough arrangement, but I doubted it was that simple.

“Whose idea was it to enter the tournament?” I asked. “Hers or yours?”

“I go where my mistress wills,” Cora replied, taking her eyes off mine and focusing them somewhere behind me.

“You could die here. Doesn’t that bother you?” I asked, lifting my hand a little higher on her back.

Cora looked at me and cocked her head to the side. “We all could. Most of us will. But like I said, I should have died a long time ago. All the years from then until now have been a gift. So I do whatever my lady wishes.”

“Did your lady ask you to dance with me?” I asked, conscious of the fact that she was just as likely probing me for information as I was her.

Cora laughed. “I do some things of my own accord.”

The thought made me smile. She certainly seemed genuine enough but deep down I knew I had to be wary. Everything was a game here. Perhaps she was telling the truth or perhaps not. There was no way to be certain.

“What does Eris want with Ares’ prize? I thought the two of them were closely aligned. What need has she for the god of war’s blessing?” I asked as we worked our way around the floor.

“What need have you?” Cora countered.

“If you haven’t heard the rumors,” I replied, “I’m not here of my own accord. I was kidnapped and compelled to compete. All that aside, I asked first.”

“Fair enough. My mistress is often maligned by others. History is written by the victors who see her as an inconvenience. Sometimes those in authority need to be challenged. Eris does so and is scorned for it. What need has she for the boon? I don’t know, but who am I to know the will of a god? Perhaps she fears she cannot rely on Ares to help her of his own accord.”

That was intriguing. Of the Olympians I had met, Ares, Eris, Deimos, and Phobos were thick as thieves. If Eris couldn’t count on her brother’s aid, something was definitely going on.

I was about to ask her if she knew anything about the coming challenge when a hand rested on her bare shoulder.

“Excuse me, dear,” a feminine voice began. “I am cutting in.”

Each word was filled with a power and authority that was absolute. The voice spoke like one used to being obeyed. Cora didn’t even turn to look; she dropped my hand and darted from the floor, leaving me standing face to face with Hera, Queen of Olympia, mother of the gods.

My heart took up residence in my throat, even as a cold shiver ran down my spine. I tried to find words, but it seemed my mouth had both of my left feet wedged in it.

“Aren’t you going to offer me your hand?” Hera asked, one eyebrow rising expectantly.

There were a lot of things going through my mind at that particular moment. One, the obvious insanity of dealing with a woman whose agents had tried to murder me both at Delphi and from beyond the grave. Two, could one really refuse the Queen of Olympia and not be reduced to a smoking pile of ashes? Three, should I accept and her dear husband, who was far from my biggest fan show up, my extremely tenuous position here at the Areopagus could come to a violent and premature end.

I stammered, unable to construct a coherent sentence to save my life. With my faculties failing me and my common sense long dead, I raised my hand to accept Hera’s.

A thin smile crept across her lips. The mere touch of her skin against mine sent a surge of power washing through me. It was tangible and electric. I could feel the energy coursing through her being. On the surface, Hera was cool, calm, and composed. Inside, she was a raging storm of arcane power the likes of which I had never before felt in my life.

She was terrifying.

I looked at the Queen of the gods wearing a light pink dress with a plunging neckline and decided that staring into her almond-colored eyes was the best course for survival.

She led me around the floor, and I had little choice but to follow. Man or not, one does not tell the Queen of Olympia how to dance.

“I must apologize,” I managed, finding my tongue at last. “I’m not much of a dancer.”

“On the contrary,” Hera replied, “you’re doing very well.”

It was kind of her to say, but I had my doubts. The fact I hadn’t tripped us both up was a definite plus though. If I could survive to the end of the song, I could politely excuse myself and retire from the floor.

The song ended and a lively tango filled the hall. I went to release her hand, but Hera pulled me even closer. I took a deep breath and felt her pressed against me. I was now confident I was in smiting territory and knew I ought to run like hell. But it was as if my feet were possessed with a mind of their own, deftly managing an impressive tango. They kept pace with Hera in what had to be the single most graceful performance of my life.

And then the penny dropped. On my best day I couldn’t manage a tango. I looked at Hera and her smile only broadened.

“Don’t feel bad. We all need a little help to get going from time to time.”

I let out a sigh. Whatever enchantment she was affecting, she was doing it effortlessly, granting me a grace I clearly didn’t possess and badly needed to keep pace with her as she roamed the floor. I glanced over her shoulder, searching the room’s inhabitants. For my own well-being, I needed out of this dance before her husband arrived.

“Stop glancing about like a scared kitten,” Hera said. “You have guest rights here. You’re safe, at least until tomorrow.”

“You really think Ares will go toe to toe with his father, your husband, to defend me?” I asked.

Hera laughed. “Even my husband must uphold the law. Us gods are not above them. If anything, we’re bound by them. You’re safe, at least for the evening, or until you break them yourself.”

That was all well and good, but I wanted to live considerably longer than that, so her assurances did little to bring me comfort.

“What do you want with me?” I asked, abandoning all pretense as we moved across the floor.

“I wanted to meet the man responsible for thwarting my agents at Delphi. You have cost me a great deal, Seth.”

“As I told them, I had obligations of my own,” I replied. “It wasn’t personal.”

“Oh?” Hera replied. “And where have they got you now? You need a better patron, Seth.”

I looked into her eyes. She was beautiful, in the way that all deadly creatures are, but as I stared into her eyes I could see her mind at work. Behind the beauty lay a keen intellect, one that was jockeying for position among her equals, while dancing a tango and dragging me along for the ride. What part I played in her machinations, I could scarcely fathom.

“Is that a job offer?” I replied. “I don’t know that I’ll live long enough to accept it.”

Hera looked at me and pursed her lips. It was as if she were weighing something in her mind.

“You are right. Your fate is uncertain. But I’ve always found a little motivation goes a long way. Why be enemies when I can be a powerful ally?”

It was a similar sentiment to Helena’s offer to me at Delphi. At least now I knew it had been made in good faith. It was worth considering but at the same time, I already had too many masters. I had a curse to cure, a trial to survive, and obligations to the brotherhood that I hadn’t even began to puzzle out. Besides, her motives were still unclear, and that had me concerned.

“Why do you even want me?” I asked. “I’m just a wizard, and not a particularly powerful one at that.”

Hera quickened her pace. “Don’t sell yourself short. All the greatest heroes were forged in affliction. Should you triumph, you will be an agent I’d be proud to have in my employ.”

The music increased in pace again and I could feel a bead of sweat running down my brow as I labored to keep up with her almost frantic motions. I moved as quickly as my enchanted oxfords could carry me, making sure my hands didn’t slip an inch.

“I can be a powerful ally, Seth,” Hera whispered, almost in my ear. “I can help you find power most men could scarcely dream of. I know of your family’s affliction. Why not accept my help and I will spare your life?”

“You know about the curse?” I asked. Now that I hadn’t expected.

“Is that what you call it?” she asked. “Interesting. More like a parasite, really.”

She pulled me closer.

“What do you mean by that?” I could feel Hera pressed against me from my thigh to my throat and here I was talking about my curse. Priorities, right?

Hera shrugged. “All a matter of perspective.”

The music continued to build to a crescendo and I found myself unable to speak, my arms glued to Hera as our entwined bodies moved across the floor. The music stopped abruptly, and the mother of Olympus spun, throwing herself back into a dip. I hung on for dear life, my chest inches from hers as she reclined back one stiletto heel on the floor, the other raised high in front of her.

A smattering of applause echoed through the chamber as I breathed heavily. The clapping died, and I looked up and found Zeus standing ten feet away, his arms folded over his chest. The air around him was electric as his steely gray eyes bored into mine. If it weren’t for whatever enchantment Hera was working, I might have dropped her there and then.

I swallowed and raised Hera to her feet. She placed a perfectly manicured hand on my chest and said, “Think on it, and don’t let the philanderer in chief dissuade you.”

I almost laughed, until I caught Zeus in my peripheral vision and bit my tongue instead.

Hera departed with a knowing smile, leaving me standing alone before her husband.

Many thoughts went through my head. The first was a shrewd appreciation for the precarious position she had left me in. By using me as a pawn to irritate her husband, she had almost compelled me to side with her for protection. If I didn’t accept the offer, I’d be on my own to face whatever fury Zeus could channel in my direction. If I agreed, I would have another master, one who might be able to shed insight on my curse, but would most definitely have expectations on my time, and quite possibly my life.

In that moment, I also wondered just how quickly lightning could travel. Of course, I’d seen it in action many times. I’d even worn Zeus’ girdle in battle. I knew the power the Father of Olympus wielded, and I knew that I would likely not even hear the words that killed me. Zeus raised a hand.

This is it. This is how you die. You accepted a dance and got fed to the God of Thunder.

Not the worst way to go. And granted, I’d have a hell of a story to tell in the underworld, but I’d already been there, and I’d much rather stay alive.

The hall was silent. I half expected my heart to stop as lightning tore through the Areopagus.

Instead, Zeus beckoned and pointed to an unoccupied seat at a table.

I let out a sigh that was equal parts relief and terror. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, or in this case, out of the shelter and into the storm.