A loud pop like the crack of gunfire awoke Athan, and he sat up. A coarse black blanket fell from his shoulders, and a chill skirted over his bare skin, giving him raised goose bumps. A roaring fire burned on the other side of the room in a roughly-hewn fireplace, and another snap of the wood told him what had awoken him. Rough walls of dark rock surrounded him, and the ceiling was the same black stone of the Underworld. If the cave wasn’t so high, he’d feel buried alive. There wasn’t even a window, only a single opening into the darkness of what he assumed was Hades’s realm.

A glance around the room told him he was alone, and he swung his legs over the side of the cot and waited for a wave of dizziness to pass. On the other side of the space, four bunk beds the same gold and black as the litter and his cot lined the wall. Shelves were carved into the stone, making cubbies that appeared to be filled with clothes and other linens.

Where were Xan and Dahlia? And why hadn’t they put him in a bed?

Athan stood, and the blanket pooled at his feet. Cool air skirted over his bare skin, and he shivered. Who had undressed him, and why? Not that he minded his boxer-style briefs, but he didn’t want to wander around the Underworld in his underwear.

He wrapped the blanket around his waist and toured the room. The clothes were all chitons, far too small for him, and bedding was folded and stacked in the corner, likely for the inhabitants. Over by the bunks, pictures were stuck to the rough stone: girls smiling, their arms thrown around each other. They weren’t sisters—there were too many different races for that to be the case—more like a sorority, as they were all similarly dressed in fitted black clothes or drapey chitons.

Dahlia would fit in well with the group. Maybe. Except Dahlia didn’t wear dresses or have friends, except for Xan and Hope.

“You’re up.”

Athan turned and faced a redheaded woman, somewhere in her late teens, standing inside the opening to the cavern. She was dressed in a black robe, a blue clasp at her shoulder.

“Hecate will see you.” Her words were clipped, as if well rehearsed, and her accent was similar to Xan’s brogue when he got angry or drunk.

“You’re from Ireland?”

The young woman pursed her lips but didn’t answer.

He let it hang in the air between them until tension filled the space. Weird. Why wouldn’t she answer? Not that it mattered. There were more pressing issues. “Where’s Xan?”

Her eyes darted out the doorway before coming back to Athan. “The guy you were traveling with?”

“Yes.” He drew the word out for several seconds. Who else would he be asking about? And why was she so nervous?

“He has been detained.” Her smile patronized him and offered no comfort. “But I’m sure you’ll see him shortly.”

Detained? Great. Xan wasn’t the best at keeping his temper in check. And after that blast, he was sure to be pissed. “Is Dahlia better? Where is she?”

The girl waived him forward. “Come. Now. Let’s not keep our goddess waiting.”

Our goddess? Hecate? Not likely. But it wasn’t worth arguing. Not yet. “Um, one more thing.” Athan pointed at his makeshift skirt. “Can I have my clothes back? I’d like to get dressed. And what did you say your name was?”

The woman flinched. “You’ll have clothes momentarily.” She indicated that he follow, and she stepped out of the room.

She’d again not answered his questions. Athan rubbed his hand over his face. His options were limited, and they both knew it. He tucked the corner of the blanket at his waist, and hoping it would hold, he followed her out of the cave.

Only to realize they’d been in a cavern of a much larger cave. Athan followed the girl through a series of tunnels. She never once turned to see if he was following, and step-by-step, his resentment and frustration grew. Two left turns and a right. Down a set of stairs, another right, then left, then up two levels . . . She was leading him in a maze.

He debated telling her. After all, she was clearly trying to confuse him by taking him in circles. But she’d withheld information, so he saw no reason to spoil the fun. Fifteen minutes later, they were exactly down the hall from the bedroom he’d woken up in, and his escort led him into a space the size of an Olympic stadium.

“Isn’t that Hecate?” He pointed to the goddess reclining on a chaise lounge. Two young men wearing nothing but loincloths stood on either side of her, fanning her with large palm fronds. Their rich mahogany skin was painted in intricate designs of scales and feathers, and their shaved scalps were bare except for one long lock of hair.

She frowned. “Yes. Our goddess is anxious to meet you.”

The goddess didn’t look anxious.

His skin crawled as unease skirted through him. They crossed the large room, and Athan took inventory. He was dressed in a skirt, barefoot, weaponless, and the only other people, if he could call them that, were girls in dresses, who also appeared weaponless, and two men waving foliage. Nothing that could help him.

Maybe Hecate was one of the good gods. His father had once been close to her—consorts was what the textbooks called it. Lovers, really. But it had ended long ago, like ancient Greece long ago.

All Athan could think as he crossed the stone ground was witchcraft and magic.

“Son of Hermes.” She sat up. “What are you doing alone in the Underworld?” The goddess waved at the two young men, and they stopped their fanning. Her hair hung loose, the maroon waves framing her in a halo of blood all the way down to her waist. Her flowy chiton was a pale green fabric, almost completely sheer except in a couple of strategic places. Hecate perused him from head to toe and back again. “Or is your father here, too?”

As he swallowed back disgust at her obvious once-over, he considered his options. Lying to Charon hadn’t gone over well, but did Hecate have allegiances to Thanatos? “No, he’s not. I’m here to collect someone.”

“Shame.” Her blue eyes gleamed. “Is the person you’re trying to get alive or dead?”

“Hopefully alive. Are my companions safe?”

She waved away his question. “Does your father know you’re here?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t tell him I was coming, but he’s probably aware of it by now.”

She nodded. “Probably.”