Chapter Three

Island

Karter grimaced, his scar still throbbing as he watched Troy and Marina wail on the floor, Zeus’s bolts disintegrating. The twins’ earsplitting shrieks bounced off the walls, and Karter’s body racked with shudders, the scent of scorched flesh assaulting his nostrils.

Troy and Marina writhed their heads and arms in pain, and Karter suspected they would have twisted their legs as well if they could. However, it seemed they could no longer move those limbs. Hot tears welled in Karter’s eyes. He blinked hard to hold them back, his heart pounding. This is only a fragile human emotion, he told himself. Let go of it. In time it will pass altogether.

Hephaestus rushed toward his grandchildren, his deformed face contorted with what looked like worry. “Father, what have you done to them?”

“If my punishment went as planned,” Zeus began, “and my punishments generally do, Troy and Marina will be paralyzed from the waist down for the remainder of their miserable lives. That’s what they get for disobeying me.”

Only a few of the gods and demigods present appeared genuinely concerned for Troy and Marina—Hephaestus and Hestia, then Luca and Corinna. Karter thought he himself probably seemed worried for them as well, but he was doing his best to make himself as emotionless as possible. Several others looked downright pleased with the outcome, though—among them were Ares, Hera, Poseidon, Xander, Violet, and Griffin. However, a majority only sighed and shook their heads.

“Take them away,” Zeus ordered. Iro, Corinna, and Liam stepped forward to do as he demanded, their expressions fearful. “Lock them in the dungeons. I’ll come for them tomorrow so they can begin setting the forges straight.”

As the trio of warriors dragged a sobbing Troy and Marina out of the throne room, the rest of the gods and demigods broke out into gossipy whispers, and Karter had to take deep breaths to calm his racing heart. He glanced around the room, scanning other people in an attempt to forget his own panic for a moment. And, as he focused on everyone else’s faces, he quickly found there was one person whose reaction he couldn’t read. One person whose face remained an impassive mask—not a trace of delight or sorrow in her eyes.

It was Violet and Xander’s “friend”—the girl who had once been Diana and Pearl’s close companion, before Pearl’s untimely death and Diana’s consequent betrayal.

It was Layla.

Karter watched Layla curiously for a few moments as the gods and demigods continued whispering, forgetting about himself for a time and wondering why her expression was so blank as she observed Troy and Marina be carted off.

A second later Layla glanced his way, and, surprisingly, he thought he spotted a hint of emotion in her eyes, her brow furrowing. Was that guilt? Anguish? Something else?

Before Karter could decipher what he saw on Layla’s face, she turned away from him, and a giant hand clamped down on his shoulder. He flinched and turned to find his father standing over him. “Now we must prepare for the execution,” Zeus said.

Karter’s tongue suddenly felt heavy in his mouth, and he found he couldn’t form a coherent response. Would he be able to create and control green lightning? Would he be able to do this? He managed to nod in reply, his only choice to try and trust his father.

Zeus nodded back. “It is almost time,” he announced, never taking his gaze off Karter. “Time for all to watch the Daughter of Apollo die. To watch the end of the Dreaded Prophecy.”

Everyone in the throne room went quiet. Zeus guided Karter into the halls of the palace, the rest of the gods and demigods following close behind.

Andy craned his head, trying to spot Circe, but he couldn’t see anything past Scylla’s snarling eel-dog-monster heads that surrounded him and his friends. “What do you mean, we’re on your island?” he yelled. “This can’t be happening. You’re insane!”

“Shhh, Andy,” Darko hissed from behind the boy, his voice still strained with pain. “I’ve heard about Circe, back in my history lessons and trainings. She’s an enchantress, and whenever people have made her mad, she turns them into animals. You do not want to offend her, so calm down.”

But Andy couldn’t do that, panic brewing in his chest. If what Circe said was true, if they weren’t near a mainland, if they weren’t near Olympus or any of the twelve cities, then what in the world were they supposed to do? How would they reach Diana and the twins in time, if ever?

Zoey rested her hand on his shoulder, probably to ease his senses before he did something rash. However, it had the opposite effect on him. His heart pounded even harder than before. “I think what my godly companion here is trying to express,” she began, “is that surely this coastline couldn’t be an island. We’ve been traveling toward the mainland—toward Olympus, more specifically—for days now, and that’s where we need to go so we can complete our mission.”

“Hmm, most curious,” Circe replied. “You say you are gods, and I am inclined to believe you, considering you have somehow obtained Poseidon’s Trident, and considering the divine essences I sense you possess. Yet you do not know your way to Olympus? Most curious, indeed.”

Andy opened his mouth to reply, but Zoey beat him to it, laughing nervously. “Yeah, well, you know how it is. I’m sure you’ve run into your fair share of minor gods and goddesses.” It seemed her voice-powers had worn off, or she’d lost concentration. She didn’t sound as regal as she had a few moments ago. “Anyway, since you say we’re on an island, and since our mission is pretty time sensitive, it’s probably best we head out and find a way to reach Olympus.”

“Ah ah ah, not so fast,” Circe replied. “You will not go anywhere until I receive my payment. Not unless you care to be eaten by Scylla.”

“You forget,” Zoey started in a singsong way, sounding a bit more self-assured now, “that we are gods, and with a snap of our fingers we could end your very existence. So let us go without a fight, and we will repay you when it suits us.” At this the woman laughed, but it couldn’t be in jest. There was something sinister to it. Andy shivered.

“You have no power over my existence,” Circe said with another cackle. “You should know that. How can you be a goddess yet have no idea who I am? Curious, curious, curious.”

Who the hell does she think she is? Andy wondered. And why isn’t she afraid of us? We’ve got gods living inside of our bodies. Or, I guess, we’re gods reincarnated? Plus, we have the Helm of Darkness and Poseidon’s Trident.

Zoey took a step in the direction of Circe’s voice, and Kali grabbed her hand. “Wait. Remember what Darko said? Maybe we shouldn’t—”

“I can handle this,” Zoey interjected. She gave Kali’s hand a squeeze, as if to reassure the other girl, and pulled away. “I don’t think you quite understand who you’re up against, Miss Circe. We most certainly have power over your existence, regardless of whoever you think you are. After all, we are gods, and we possess not only Poseidon’s Trident, but also the Helm of Darkness. With these items, we rule over the Underworld and the seas. You have to do what we say. What I say.” Andy had to admit, Zoey sounded pretty convincing. Those voice-powers of hers sure were getting strong again. He almost had to force himself to stay standing instead of bowing at her feet and asking her what her first order of business was.

Circe chuckled again. “The items you speak of are useless unless the wielders know how to properly utilize their powers. I suspect you fools have not yet unlocked their secrets, considering you’re still attempting to persuade me rather than using them to make your escape.” Andy blinked in surprise. Zoey’s abilities really weren’t working on Circe. Not only that, but she made some seriously good points.

“Maybe we should just do what she asks,” Darko whispered. “Before anyone else gets hurt?”

Andy took a few deep breaths, his head finally clearing, his heart and stomach calming. The last thing he wanted to do was comply with this Circe person, but it didn’t seem they had any other choice. He looked to Zoey. “We’re cornered, exhausted, and starving,” he said. “Darko can’t fight with a busted wrist, and the rest of us are so weak there’s no way we can take on this ‘Scylla’ thing without getting seriously hurt—or an ‘enchantress’ who turns people into animals when she’s mad, for that matter. We don’t exactly have the upper hand here.”

“But we have Poseidon’s Trident and the Helm of Darkness, not to mention my voice-powers,” Zoey replied, turning to him. “If we can’t even fight some woman and her pet monster with them, how are we ever supposed to use them to steal the Master Lightning Bolt and take down an entire pantheon of gods?”

Andy shared looks with Darko and Kali and mulled over Zoey’s words. The Helm of Darkness and Poseidon’s Trident were supposed to grant them incredible powers that helped them rule over parts of the world, but Circe was right: the objects were useless in many ways unless Andy and Zoey could wield them properly and use them to their full capacity. The two of them didn’t know how to do that yet; otherwise, they would have already done it and escaped.

In fact, it seemed as if the pair had only touched the tip of the iceberg when it came to unlocking the objects’ secrets. After all, the only reason they’d defeated Poseidon was because Zoey manipulated the Trojan Cetus with her voice-powers. If they hadn’t had an advantage like that, they would have been totally screwed. Not to mention the fact that they didn’t have anyone to teach them or anyone who knew much about the objects ever since Diana had been captured. Until they could save her, or until they could do some research of their own and get serious amounts of training under their belts, they were pretty much stuck in this stagnant state of knowledge regarding the gods’ toys.

We might be legitimately hopeless, Andy thought. Which is kinda funny, considering how far we’ve gotten . . . somehow making it out of the Underworld and Poseidon’s palace alive. What if this is where it all comes to a halt, and we let down the world because we were too stupid to think about learning more regarding how to use the gods’ objects of power ahead of time?

He finally whispered to Zoey, “Think about what Circe said—the items are pretty much useless if we don’t know how to properly utilize their powers. I think there’s some truth to that. If there weren’t, we wouldn’t be arguing with her right now. Or am I missing something?”

Zoey knit her brow, pushing a few loose curls behind her ears. “You’re not wrong. I just . . . I’m worried about what’s going to happen when we finally face off with the gods. Like, if we can’t do this the way we’re supposed to, how will we ever do that? I thought by this point, we’d be pretty much invincible. But we’re not, are we?”

“You might be to some,” Darko said. “But you’ll still have to deal with every situation we come across a little differently. Maybe this is one of those times?”

Kali shrugged and jutted a thumb in Darko’s direction. “I mean, I see where you’re coming from, Zoey, but Darko’s not wrong.”

Zoey sighed and smiled a little, Andy’s stomach flip-flopping. How could a person go through hell and back multiple times—in a literal postapocalyptic world, no less—and still look so beautiful? “Thanks for talking me down, guys,” she started. “I keep thinking this is going to get easier, but it isn’t. The odds are still against us, it seems.”

“But at least we’re doing it together, right?” Andy asked.

“Right,” Zoey replied. She offered everyone a nod, then faced the direction of Circe’s voice once more. “All right, Miss Circe. What would you like from us as payment? We’ll give you whatever you want, within reason. For instance, you can’t have the magical objects in our possession—we’re, um, we’re delivering them. To Zeus, I mean. Once we give you what you want, though, we’d like directions to Olympus, and advice on how we can get a new method of transportation, if it’s not too much of a hassle.”

“You’re a goddess who gets down to business, I see,” Circe replied with a chuckle. “You’d fulfill any request I have and then be on your way without even knowing who I am? Who I really am?”

“Who are you, then, exactly?” Andy piped up, squaring his shoulders and tightening his grip on the Trident as he stepped forward.

“You’re an enchantress, right?” Darko asked.

“Yes, that’s true,” Circe replied, and the dog-eel-monsters, or Scylla or whatever, parted to reveal her.

When Andy laid eyes on Circe, he had to focus on keeping his jaw from dropping. Not because she was unbelievably gorgeous or anything like that. She was pretty, yeah, and she looked as if she could be around his age even though he knew she wasn’t. But what immediately stood out to him was that she couldn’t just be an enchantress—she also had to be a goddess.

She was fairly short, maybe an inch or so taller than Diana, unlike many of the other gods and goddesses they’d met before. However, her presence remained commanding all the same. Inexplicable energy rolled off her deep-olive skin in droves. Silky knee-length robes draped over her slim figure, bracelets and necklaces dotted with precious gems snaking around her limbs and throat. She held a large pointed branch like a wand, which had wires and raw crystals wrapped all around it. What startled Andy the most, however, were her eyes and hair. Her pupil-less orbs glowed like molten gold, and her long red locks flowed all around her head like the flames of a bonfire.

Circe must have been amused by the way Andy was staring at her. She gave him a little wave, her lips curling up in a flirtatious smile. Immediately he tore his gaze away.

“You’re also a goddess,” Zoey said matter-of-factly.

“Mm-hmm,” Circe replied. “A daughter of Helios and Perse—so a minor deity, just like you. Although I still thought you’d look much more impressive than you do. Your companion, on the other hand . . .” She gestured at Andy with her stick or wand or whatever it was and winked. “Very handsome. I love the wings.” Andy’s cheeks went hot. He glanced at Zoey. She only rolled her eyes at the goddess.

Kali must have sensed Zoey’s annoyance and Andy’s embarrassment because she trudged ahead of them. “Okay, so you’re a goddess who dabbles in witchcraft,” she said. “That’s real impressive, and I mean it. Now please, name your price for our safe passage out of here. We’re—we’re trying to rescue someone, and she’s running out of time.” Kali’s voice cracked as she uttered those last few words, and Andy recalled the moments before they’d all been separated from Diana.

Kali had begged Diana not to leave the group to battle Karter and the rest of the asshole demigods, but Diana had insisted she needed to so everyone else could escape. Then Kali had kissed Diana, right on the lips, and Diana had kissed her back. It had been a cute moment between them, and Andy would probably remember it a lot more fondly if his wings hadn’t been breaking through the skin of his back to grow in the same moment. The pain had been so intense he’d passed out. At least those two finally acknowledged they like each other, he thought. Maybe the next time we’re all together, they won’t bicker anymore, unless that’s just the way they’ll always flirt.

If they can always flirt. If we reach Diana before the execution . . .

Circe tapped her chin. “Hmm. You know, I’m not sure what I want from you yet. Follow me home and let’s chat while I think about it. Once we arrive, I can use some natural remedies to heal his bones”—she pointed at Darko—“and provide the four of you with food and drink.” She snapped her fingers, and Scylla slithered back beneath the cliff without hissing or barking or anything else. Circe twirled around and started heading farther down the cliff.

At the mention of food and drink, Andy’s stomach growled, but he still shared looks of bewilderment with Zoey, Darko, and Kali. What was Circe’s deal? First she threatened them with being eaten by her pet dog-eel-monster if they didn’t somehow pay her, and now she was offering to fix up Darko and feed everyone. Was this some kind of trap? Did she know Andy and Zoey were the Chosen Two of the Prophecy and were planning on saving humanity from the tyranny of the gods? Was she planning on turning them in to Zeus?

At any rate, what other choice did they have, other than to follow her?

“I guess let’s go?” Zoey said. The rest of them agreed, and with that, they trekked after the goddess.

They reached the bottom of a hill that sloped upward toward the cliff. Down here, a forest of cypress trees beckoned them into total darkness. “Uh, how’re we supposed to see in there?” Andy asked Circe as they approached the woods. “It looks pitch black.”

“Not to worry,” Circe replied, and slapped the tip of her crystal-wrapped wand against her palm. In an instant, a sphere of yellow illumination glinted into existence on the branch’s end like a flashlight. “I know most others cannot see in the dark.”

Andy scratched the back of his head. “You can see in the dark?”

“Why, yes,” she said, and giggled girlishly. Andy gulped. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the tone in her voice when she talked to him. “I’m surprised you didn’t pick up on that when you saw my glowing golden eyes, you striking creature.” Andy blanched and paused for a second. Uh, gross,he thought. She’s, what, thousands of years old? Even if she only looks a little bit older than me?

Someone pinched Andy’s arm, and he turned to see Kali. “Hey,” she whispered. “Remember what Darko said? Don’t offend her.”

“Yeah,” he whispered back, although the fact that she turned people who’d upset her into animals couldn’t change how weird he thought her flirting with him was.

As they walked into the trees, following Circe so they didn’t trip or get lost in the darkness, the goddess started to ask them questions. “So, what are your names? Other than your detour on my island, how is your mission for Zeus going? And what does the mission consist of, exactly?”

“I’m . . . I’m Zoey,” Zoey began, and Andy wondered, due to her pause, whether she’d considered saying Calliope instead. “And our satyr friend here is named Darko. Then there’s Kali and, um, Andy.” She gestured at them as she said their names. “As for our mission for Zeus, well . . . he doesn’t exactly want us telling too many other gods about it, if you know what I mean. He was pretty clear about that when he sent us away.”

Circe snorted. “I know exactly what you mean. Zeus has always been an idiot. Why make you keep your mission a secret, when those around you could help if they only knew what you are meant to do? It’s always a game of loyalty with him. If you ask me, there’s no one less worthy of being King of the Gods. But what can any of us do about it, right? We still have to follow his every last order.”

Andy blinked hard. What the hell? he thought. If she buys the story about us being gods and on a mission for Zeus, why is she trash-talking him right now? What if we were super-loyalists to him? Shouldn’t she be worried about us tattling on her or something?

Also, was she suggesting that if she knew what our mission was, she’d help us? What about the fact that we’re on her island, and we have to repay her for safe passage out of here, or else she’ll sic Scylla on us? His friends seemed equally taken aback by Circe’s contradicting words and actions. They raised their brows and shared looks with him.

Finally, Zoey let out a nervous laugh. “So, I take it you don’t like our king?”

“Not particularly,” Circe replied. “I cannot say I care for any of the Olympians, really. I suppose you can see, then, why I’m asking you for something in return before letting you go so you can finish your little excursion for them.”

“I suppose I can,” Zoey replied.

A few minutes of awkward silence passed before there was a rustling in the woods to their left. Everyone but Circe halted in their tracks. “What was that?” Darko whispered.

Gray fur that must have belonged to an animal flashed between the trees up ahead—there and gone in an instant. A howl sounded in the air, echoing across the sky, and goose bumps prickled on Andy’s skin, the hair on the back of his neck standing straight. “Circe, are you sure it’s safe out here?” he asked. “For our mortal friends, I mean.”

The goddess giggled again, and Andy shivered. “Of course, handsome winged beast,” she said. “That was just one of my pets you heard.” He gulped. One of her pets? It was probably better to keep his mouth shut from here on out. He didn’t want to be turned into a pet, and he didn’t want to be turned into pet-kibble, either.

When it began to feel as though they’d been walking through the black forest for ages, they reached a massive clearing at the bottom of another hill. A trio of long, vertically stacked stone staircases led to the top of the mound, marvelous gazebos and fountains spouting shimmering water lining the three flights of steps. And, at the top of the stairs—at the top of the hill—one of the most magnificent structures Andy had ever laid his eyes on beckoned them.

The building was a round ivory palace supported by tall columns, the marble it had been fashioned from glistening beneath the dim light of the moon and stars. Even at the bottom of the hill, Andy could make out the designs carved and painted into the palace’s exterior; they reminded him of pictures he’d seen in his high-school art classes that featured ancient Greek pottery.

Circe paused and spun around. “Gorgeous, isn’t it?”

Darko released a low whistle, and Kali said, “Sure is.”

Circe sighed contentedly, and her gleeful gaze wandered over all of them before fixing itself on Andy. She flashed him a dazzling smile, seizing his free hand with hers. “Come, come. Welcome to my home!”

Her palm was warm, feverishly so, and Andy had the very strong urge to yank away from her grip. However, remembering what Darko had said about how she punished those who offended her, he did no such thing. Instead, he let her entwine her fingers with his, allowed her to begin dragging him up the stairs leading to her palace.

For a brief moment, he glanced over his shoulder to shoot his friends a helpless look as they followed behind him and the sorceress. Darko offered him a pained shrug, while Kali gave him an awkward smile. It was as if they were saying, “Sorry, there’s nothing we can do. You’re on your own.” The only expression he couldn’t read was Zoey’s. She pressed her lips into a thin line. Was it just him, or did she almost seem annoyed with Circe? With him?

Circe tugged hard on his arm, pulling him up onto the second flight of steps, and he turned away from his friends, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his stomach.

Soon they reached the top of the stairs. Circe led them past tall columns and the front doors, then into the entryway, still clutching Andy’s hand. As they walked, the sorceress twirled her wand. Flames burst to life atop sconces attached to the walls, one by one as the group passed, casting flickering shadows along the gem-encrusted tiles making up the floor.

It was because of the dancing fires that Andy could finally see the interior of the palace. He drank it all in with wide eyes. The high, arched ceilings. The colorful paintings embellishing the white walls. The lavish, gold-trimmed furniture. The lions and wolves that were lounging on said lavish, gold-trimmed furniture . . .

Wait, he thought, what the hell? Am I seeing things? He stopped in his tracks to further inspect the palace’s insides, blinking hard, but no, he wasn’t imagining it. Twelve wild animals—seven sleek gray wolves and five fluffy yellow lions, to be exact—were sitting on Circe’s plush rugs and cushions and chairs and couches as if they owned the place.

In fact, it seemed as if the animals did own the place, and Andy suddenly felt as though he’d intruded on a sacred space. When the animals spotted him and his friends, they went rigid where they sat. Low growls escaped a few of the wolves’ throats, the fur on their backs standing straight, lips pulled back to reveal gleaming fangs. All the while, the lions flicked their tails back and forth, glaring at Andy and his friends with soulless black pits for eyes.

Worst of all, though, was the stench. When it finally hit Andy’s nostrils, he wrestled with the urge to plug his nose. It smelled like a barnyard in here.

Darko and Kali yelped from behind Andy and Circe as the wolves’ growls grew louder, and Zoey stepped up next to Andy. She side-eyed his hand intertwined with Circe’s. “I’m guessing these are more of your pets?” she asked.

“Now you’re catching on, Goddess of Eloquence,” Circe replied.

Zoey’s eyes narrowed. Her hand lingered over the bag holding the Helm of Darkness. The bag was draped over her shoulder, and it dangled at her waist. “How did you—”

It was then that the wolf closest to them—it had been sprawled out on a royal-blue rug with intricate, sewn-in designs—released a series of barks and snarls and pounced for Zoey.

At this point, Andy didn’t care about pissing off Circe. He yanked his hand from hers, brandished Poseidon’s Trident, and jumped in front of Zoey.

However, before he ever needed to use the Trident, Circe snapped her fingers. “Back, Agamemnon!” she ordered. Her voice echoed through the chamber, through the whole palace, it seemed. “Back!” The wolf—Agamemnon—heeded Circe’s command. It backed away, shrinking in on itself, whining all the while.

Circe wagged a finger at the rest of the wild animals around them. “My pets, these are our . . . our friends. Our guests. And you will respect them as you respect me and my nymphs.” She twirled around to face Andy; he still stood protectively in front of Zoey, and he didn’t plan on leaving her side again. “That is,” Circe continued with a wink, “unless I say otherwise.”

Andy gulped. There was something in the tone of her voice that made him nervous. But what else can we do, other than give her what she asks for and go? We’re in no shape to fight, and Zoey’s voice-powers didn’t work on her.

They strolled through more chambers in the palace, each larger and more magnificent than the last. As they walked, they passed what must have been dozens more lions and wolves. They even passed some young girls who looked like forest and sea nymphs; the girls stayed quiet and kept their heads down as the group went by, focusing on their chores.

All the while, Andy wondered where the lions and wolves came from. Had they once been people? People who’d angered Circe and been turned into “pets”? Or had they been born as animals and simply flocked to the goddess? Seriously, though, where had they come from? How big was this island, exactly? It couldn’t be all that large. And wasn’t there some kind of prey-to-predator ratio? Was that a thing? If so, where were all the animals the lions and wolves ate?

Finally, they reached a chamber that looked like a kitchen—that is, if one managed to fuse a kitchen with a witch’s potion room. Regular kitchen utensils, ovens and stoves, and pantries stuffed with food inhabited the room. So did a number of animal and human skulls and bones, along with several wooden racks filled to the brim with bottles of colorful glowing goo. Potions? Andy wondered. The thorned vines of plants unlike any he’d seen grew over everything, and the scents of fresh bread and juicy produce mingled with the smells of aromatic herbs and smoky concoctions. Hot air blasted Andy in the face as he entered, sweat forming on his brow.

Circe sauntered over to a rack of what Andy thought could be potions and grabbed a bottle shining a tranquil shade of green. “Come here, satyr,” she said. “Let me treat your injury.”

Darko looked at Andy, Zoey, and Kali as if asking for reassurance. They all nodded at him. “We’re right behind you,” Andy said, and Darko headed tentatively over to Circe, the rest of them following close behind.

When Darko made it to Circe’s side, she seized his injured arm and began work on it. He yelped in pain, his wrist cracking. “Don’t hurt him more!” Andy cried, lunging forward. Someone grabbed Andy’s hands from behind to stop him from getting any closer. He swung around, saw it was Zoey and Kali.

“She’s not hurting me,” Darko assured Andy, though he was breathing heavily, his voice laced with pain. “She set the bone.”

“Quite right,” Circe said. “Though your compassion for this creature is quite attractive, Anteros, try not to worry. He’ll be just fine.”

Andy stepped back, blinking hard. Had he heard her right? Had she really just called him Anteros? “What the hell?” he shouted.

“I knew it.” Zoey released Andy and stomped past him toward Circe and Darko as Circe continued her work on Darko. “I knew you’d figured out who we were when you called me the Goddess of Eloquence.”

Circe uncorked the bottle of mint-green goo she’d grabbed from her rack and handed it to Darko. “Drink this fast,” she ordered. “It will accelerate the healing process. In fact, once you finish it, you should be completely healed within a few minutes.” Darko did as Circe said, guzzling down the brew with a few quick gulps, and Circe turned to Zoey. “Of course I know who you are,” she went on. “I knew it from the moment I saw you—both of you.” She faced Andy, and suddenly her expression was pleading as she gazed at him. “After everything we’ve been through, do you really think I wouldn’t recognize you, God of Requited Love?” Andy took a few more steps back, his stomach turning. He wasn’t sure why, but Circe was really, really freaking him out right now.

Zoey’s hand hovered above the bag slung over her shoulder. “What do you mean, after everything you’ve been through? What are you talking about?”

“You really don’t remember?” Circe asked Andy, her shoulders slumping, her expression crestfallen. “The time we spent together?” Darko’s jaw dropped, his eyes going wide as he watched them, and Andy figured Kali probably had a similar expression on her face.

Andy shook his head. “Lady, I don’t have a freaking clue what you’re talking about. I don’t know whether Anteros—whether I—knew you before . . . well, before I was in this body. But I’m . . . I’m Andy now, okay?” He glanced over at Zoey, who offered him a quizzical expression. “Yeah, I’m Andy. Andy Regan.” He turned back to Circe. Standing straighter and with more confidence now, he felt surer of himself. “And I might be Anteros reincarnated—really, I have no idea how all this works. I just found out I have his wings and stuff a few days ago. But what I do know is I grew up like any other regular kid, with my own family and friends and no memories of Anteros’s life. So . . . yeah. I don’t know you, okay?”

Circe turned away. Andy wasn’t sure whether he’d seen it right, but he thought she’d been . . . smiling? Slightly? “Of course you don’t,” she said. “How foolish of me. You are, after all, not just Anteros, God of Requited Love. You are also one of the Chosen Two from the Before Time, brought back to life five hundred years after your deaths in the Storm to avenge humanity by leading a war on the gods. That is why you possess the Helm of Darkness and Poseidon’s Trident. You stole them to battle the gods. You weren’t tasked with returning them to our half-wit king on some ridiculous quest. Correct?”

Andy felt as though someone had socked him in the gut. She knows we’re leading a war on the gods? Why’d she pretend not to know who we are when we first met her?

“Shall I begin preparing dinner for everyone, then?” Circe asked, and she started toward the other side of the “kitchen.”

Zoey threw her hand into the air. “Hold on a sec! You don’t just know we’re Calliope and Anteros—you also know we’re the Chosen Two of the Prophecy. Then why . . . why are you helping us? Why haven’t you turned us in to Zeus?”

Circe looked over her shoulder, narrowed her fiery eyes straight at Zoey. “As I’ve already told you, I’m not particularly fond of the King of the Gods, and I’m not helping you out of the goodness of my heart, anyway, considering you’ll be giving me something I want in return.” She proceeded toward the nearest stove and stirred whatever was brewing in the steaming pot on it. “Besides, it’s not as though Zeus has allowed me to erect a city in my name, as he has many of the other gods. It’s not as if I have worshippers offering me sacrifices and spreading word of my great deeds, as many of the other gods do. One of the only reasons I haven’t faded away from lack of worship—as we all thought Anteros and Calliope had—is my association with Odysseus in the old days. Because I turned his men into pigs and eventually became his lover, my name was known by many in the Before Time. And now, because the gods have taken back humanity and spread their stories far and wide, including their involvements with Odysseus’s quest, I am still often spoken of to this day. Other than that, my own methods of survival seem to work just fine.”

“Why didn’t you just tell us all this in the first place?” Zoey pressed. “Why the smoke and mirrors? Why pretend you had no idea who we are and go along with our story?”

Circe snorted. “I could ask the same of you. You’re the one who tried to trick me from the very beginning, after all. So, what is it I should call the two of you? Your human names? Your divine names? Or something else entirely?”

“We use their human names, and they respond just fine, if that’s any help,” Kali chimed in with a shrug. “Need some help with the food? I’ve been told I’m a great cook, and the herbs and spices you’ve got have been calling my name ever since I stepped foot in here.”

“Go right ahead,” Circe replied, making room for Kali at her side. Kali headed that way, grabbing a few things from one of Circe’s pantries before reaching the goddess’s side, and Andy gave the future chief of Deltama Village an incredulous look.

Kali merely shrugged at him and started helping Circe. “What? I’m starving.”

Had dehydration and hunger finally gotten to Andy? Was he hallucinating all of this? How had their interactions with this immortal sorceress led to something as whacky as helping her prepare dinner?

Before he could form his next sentence, Darko clopped to his side. The satyr’s wrist looked good as new, and he seemed to be feeling much better. The color had returned to his face, and he was moving his previously injured arm as though it had never been broken. “It worked,” he said to Andy and Zoey, grinning ear to ear. “Circe healed me as easily as Diana would have!”

Zoey raised a brow at Darko as if still skeptical of Circe and her intentions, and Andy couldn’t help but feel the same. Something told him Circe couldn’t be trusted. We need to find out more about her. “So,” he started, “why hasn’t Zeus let you have a city of your own? And worshippers, too? I thought the more minor gods and goddesses had cities and worshippers across the world. Wasn’t that the whole point of the gods sending the Storm anyway? To take back humanity’s worship? Why’s he excluding you?”

Circe sneered as she worked alongside Kali. “Only the gods and goddesses who blindly agreed to Zeus’s plans of world domination were given such special treatment. The rest of us—the ones who were less enthusiastic about his idea—were left to fade and die with time.”

“That’s pretty messed up,” Zoey remarked. “It makes sense that you don’t care about whether we lead a war on the gods, then.” She shared a knowing glance with Andy. He guessed they were on the same page regarding their curiosity about Circe. Zoey seemed to be prying.

“I care little about politics,” Circe replied. “I keep to myself, look out for myself. And Zeus’s efforts to destroy me have not yet worked, have they? I’m still here, after all.” She clapped her hands, opened the cupboard above the stove she was at, and pulled out four clay cups with symbols and people and pigs painted on them. Then she lifted her and Kali’s pot and filled the cups with some kind of stew, the sweet and savory aromas of the gravy dancing in the air, teasing Andy’s nose.

His mouth watered, his stomach growling. That smells so good, he thought. When was the last time we ate? The effects of hunger finally overtook him, and he swayed to the side, feeling as if he might pass out.

Circe handed each of them a cup. Andy’s hands shook as he held his container, trembled so much his stew sloshed from side to side. “Please eat, my guests,” Circe said. “You are famished. After your hunger has been satiated, we will proceed with our bargaining.” Andy looked around at his friends. They were suddenly shaking from hunger as well.

“We need our strength,” Kali said, and before anyone could argue with her and point out that it might be laced with poison, she brought the cup to her mouth. Her dinner went down in just a few big gulps, and once she finished, she licked her lips and grinned at Circe. “Delicious. Thanks.”

Circe winked at her. “Don’t thank me. You helped with the finishing touches.”

Apparently, Kali’s act of bravery gave Darko the courage to trust Circe’s intentions, because he slurped down his meal next. “Darko!” Zoey scolded.

“What?” the satyr asked once he finished. “Kali’s right. We need our strength so we can save Diana, Marina, and Troy.” Andy shared another knowing look with Zoey. Even though Darko and Kali trusted Circe just fine, something felt off. Still, Darko made a good point: they needed their strength to save Diana and the twins. How would they ever rescue their comrades if they were starving to death? How would they ever even get off this island if they were starving to death? Worse than that, if he refused this meal, would it offend Circe? Would she turn him into one of her pets if he didn’t eat?

With dozens of worst-case scenarios running through his head, Andy gave in. He lifted the cup to his lips and sucked down the stew. It tasted just as delicious as it smelled. A delectable fusion of meats and vegetables and spices—this was the best food he’d had since the party at Deltama Village before he and his friends had traveled into the Underworld. Even before he was done, a blissfully warm sensation started to spread from his stomach into the rest of his body. I already feel so much better, he thought, and he really did. For the first time in God knew how long, he felt almost . . . euphoric. His head and limbs suddenly didn’t feel so heavy, all the pressure and stress dissipating from his tired muscles. Is there more of this stuff?

“Now, then,” Circe began, “would any of you like seconds, or shall we proceed with the bargaining?”

“Seconds, please,” Darko and Kali said almost in unison, and Andy held out his cup for more as well. Zoey stared at Circe, her lip curled with distrust. What was her deal? Sure, at first this had seemed too good to be true. But Circe had healed Darko, had allowed Kali to help prepare the meal—and the stew felt incredible going down, made Andy so warm and light and comfortable. Everything was fine; Circe was trustworthy. Couldn’t Zoey see that?

Andy elbowed Zoey in the side. “Go on, eat. It’s okay.”

“Their speech is slurred,” Zoey said to Circe. “Did you drug this?”

“I use red wine in all my cooking,” Circe replied to her, waving a hand dismissively. “Under the right conditions there’s enough to intoxicate. But go on, Goddess of Eloquence—er, Goddess of Eloquence incarnate, I suppose. As your companions said, you’ll need your strength for what comes next.”

Despite her shaking hand, Zoey set her cup aside. “I’ll wait and eat something else later. Thanks, though.” Andy opened his mouth to argue, to tell Zoey she should eat now, but she shot him a glare that told him he should keep his mouth shut.

Circe offered Zoey a smile sweet as candy and took the cup back. “Suit yourself, dear.” She got Andy, Darko, and Kali their seconds, and soon they’d slurped those down, too. Circe asked them if they wanted thirds, but by that point they were too stuffed, and they declined. If Andy hadn’t been so full, he would have had more, though. He felt better than ever, as if he’d been pampered at the world’s greatest spa all day rather than steering a broken-down submarine with a magical pitchfork across the Atlantic.

“So, have you determined what you want from us yet, Circe?” Zoey asked.

“I think I might have,” Circe replied as she began to clean up the mess from dinner.

Zoey raised a brow. “What is it, then?”

For a while Circe didn’t say anything. Finally, however, she turned toward the group. “My guests, I have made my decision. Once you have promised to fulfill my wish, I will not only grant you safe passage from my island, but I will also lend you a boat to reach the mainland, and I will give you directions to New Mount Olympus.”

Andy grinned, sharing grateful looks with Darko and Kali. However, when he looked at Zoey, she had a skeptical expression on her face, her arms crossed. He frowned. Did Zoey still think Circe was too good to be true? Did she believe the enchantress would betray them? That she wouldn’t hold up her end of the bargain?

“Stop dragging this out,” Zoey snapped. “Tell us what you want.”

Circe gave them a childlike smile, and she nodded at Andy. “What I want is for the God of Requited Love incarnate—for Andy, or as I knew him, Anteros—to stay with me on my island. Forever.”

Suddenly all the good feelings in Andy’s body fled. His stomach clenched, his muscles tightening once again, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “Wait, what? Why—why the hell do you think I’d ever stay on this island with you?” He cringed as the words came out. His speech really was slurred, as Zoey had pointed out.

Circe’s golden eyes flashed. “What did you say? That you won’t oblige?” She took a few steps toward him. “No, that can’t be correct. After all, I have shown you such hospitality. Perhaps I misheard you?”

“Oh, you heard me right,” Andy said, hiccupping. “Maybe you should get your ears cleaned if you’re having trouble, though.” Apparently, that hadn’t been the right thing to say, because Circe’s fiery hair crackled, burning higher, higher, higher, and suddenly she was raising her crystal-wrapped wand and—

“Our greatest and most sincere apologies,” Zoey exclaimed, running in front of Andy. She stood straight, her shoulders back. She was using her Calliope voice again, and she sounded every bit like a fierce goddess. “You have shown us great hospitality, Circe. You’ve given us food, healed our friend, and spared us from Scylla. But your request . . . it simply cannot be done. We cannot let you have Andy. Or Anteros, as you knew him.”

Circe’s hair snapped and popped, not calming in the slightest. “Oh, and why is that? Initially, you asserted the only request you could not grant was giving me the Helm of Darkness and Poseidon’s Trident. You said nothing regarding handing over someone belonging to your party.”

“You know why,” Zoey said, her voice growing higher pitched and panicky. “He and I—we have to lead a war on the gods. Please, ask for something else.”

Circe circled the group, tapping her wand against her palm. “I don’t want anything else.”

There was a long pause—whole minutes where everyone was quiet. Finally, hooves clacked against the tiled floor as Darko stepped forward. “I’ll stay with you on your island forever, Circe.” Though the satyr’s speech was slurred, he sounded sure of himself. “I’ll be your payment so Andy and Zoey can leave.”

Andy grabbed Darko by the shoulder. “Are you crazy?” he cried. “You can’t stay here. We need you.” He shot Zoey a hopeless look, but she only stared back at him with wide eyes, her mouth opening and closing in shock.

Circe tapped her chin with her wand. “Hmm. No. I don’t want you, satyr.”

Darko hung his head. Andy breathed out a sigh of relief, but the solace didn’t last long. Kali stepped forward next. “I’ll stay. Take me, Circe.” She turned back to look at the rest of the group, her expression full of sorrow. As she spoke her next words, Andy’s eyes welled with tears. “Just . . . if I do this, promise me that when you save Diana, you’ll tell her that . . . tell her that, more than anything in the world, I wanted to see her again.”

Andy extended his hand. “Kali—”

Kali yanked out of his reach. “This is what must be done. Eventually, word will spread to my village, and in time they’ll understand.” She winked at them, and Andy knew exactly what she was trying to tell them. Because Kali was the future chief of Deltama Village, this decision would leave her people without a leader. They’d have to appoint someone else, and until they found that someone, there would be chaos among her people. But it would mean Andy and Zoey could go on to save the world, which would ultimately improve the lives of her people, which was why she’d come with them in the first place. It would give her village a better chance at a free and prosperous future.

“Presumptuous, aren’t we?” Circe said with a giggle. “I respect your bravery, mortal, but I don’t want you, either. You will not make a suitable lover. However, Anteros will. I want Anteros.”

Andy balled his fists at his sides. He’d had enough of this. “First of all, I’m not Anteros anymore. I’m Andy. Second, you can’t just ask people to be your obedient little dogs. We’re human beings.” He cast Darko a quick shrug. “Uh, most of us are. Some of us are satyr beings, I guess. Anyway, the point is, I’m a person. You can’t just ask me to be your love-prisoner on this stupid island. It’s weird. You’re gonna have to ask us for something else. You can’t have the Helm of Darkness, Poseidon’s Trident, or any of us, though.”

Circe raised her wand. It glowed with golden light, sparks hissing and popping around it. “Even in this weak, mortal form, you still refuse to submit to me, Anteros?” She narrowed her eyes at Zoey. “And for that unremarkable whore, no less.”

Zoey flinched, and Andy clenched his jaw. “Don’t call her that!” he shouted.

“After all our years of involvement,” Circe went on. “After all the times you’d sneak into the palace while my husband was out—”

“You have a husband?” Andy interrupted. “And you want me, a sixteen-year-old kid, to stay with you and be your lover? What the heck is wrong with you, lady?”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it while you were still immortal,” Circe retorted. “Not until she came along, at least.” The goddess jerked her head at Zoey as she uttered that last sentence, and Andy swallowed hard. When he’d been a god, had he been a player? It sounded so unlike him now that it was hard to believe, but the pieces were starting to come together. From what he’d gathered here, he’d broken Circe’s heart.

“Look, I don’t remember any of what happened between you and Anter—uh, you and me,” Andy said. “I’m really sorry if . . . if I hurt your feelings. But you need to understand, I’m not Anteros anymore. I’m Andy. And I’m not going to stay here with you. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I’m too important to our mission.”

“In that case, I’ll do what I should have long ago,” Circe said, pointing her wand at Andy. “I’ll punish you and your whore for everything you’ve done to me.” Andy raised the Trident, but he was too slow, his reflexes dulled from Circe’s stew. The golden light emanating from Circe’s wand shot straight for him.

As the light rammed into Andy, his friends screamed his name, and strange, sharp pains overcame his body. His gut bubbled with nausea, and his skin felt as though it was pulling itself tighter and tighter around his insides, as if it was shrinking. His bones cracked and creaked, and he cried out and collapsed, his limbs involuntarily jerking at inhuman angles. The Trident fell from his hands, clattered to the floor.

Circe stood above him. She suddenly seemed much taller than before. “You should have done as I asked, my pet,” she said with a cackle.

Andy’s pain began to subside, but still he couldn’t climb to his feet. He groaned. Clawed at the tiles beneath him. Extended a hand for the Trident. Found he couldn’t reach the object of power, couldn’t even grip the floor properly. What had Circe done to him? What was she going to do to his companions?

What felt like whole minutes passed, the shouts of Andy’s friends ringing in his ears, before the strangely familiar voice of a man sounded in his mind. “Do not worry, child. I have been waiting for an opportunity like this since you were born, and finally my time has come.”

Who are you? Andy thought at the voice. What are you talking about?

“In time, you’ll come to understand that we are the same being. For now, allow me to take control of our body.”

It was then that a buzzing feeling—the same buzzing feeling Andy had experienced when he’d been drawn to the statue of Anteros in Aphrodite City—hummed in his chest, and a flash of silver light blinded him.