ear, “I could use a change of scenery.”
His arms dropped to my waist. “I’ll take you wherever you want.”
I slipped out of his embrace and flashed him a smile. “Great, I’ll get the keys.” I giggled at his confused look. “You did say anywhere. Let’s go recruit Hephaestus.”
He gave me a withering look. “Not what I had in mind.”
I tossed my hair over my shoulder. “You should have been more specific.”
Chapter XXVII
Hades
I woke to a cold appraisal from Athena’s gray eyes. Disoriented, I sat up and realized I was in Demeter’s living room.
Hades! Persephone’s fear sliced through me.
I’m here, I assured her before turning my attention back to Athena. “Can I help you?” I laced the sentence with as much sarcasm as I could muster.
It wasn’t much. Whatever just happened to Persephone had left me shaken. Pain was not an experience I relished, especially hers. I pushed my hair out of my face and narrowed my eyes at Athena.
“You need a haircut,” she observed.
My attention snapped back to Persephone as she struggled to get out from under…who was that kid and what the hell did he think he was doing?
CPR. An ally then.
“You’re up.” Demeter walked into the room. Her face was pale and drawn with worry.
I swung my feet over the couch and sat up. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
“Is she okay?” Demeter demanded.
The ocean, the kid chirped.
Gee, that narrows it down. I stood, taking a deep breath to steady myself as the room shifted around me. “She seems to have escaped Zeus.”
Athena’s expression became guarded, and I exchanged glances with Demeter. We all knew it wasn’t likely she’d escaped. Zeus was up to something.
You’re Poseidon’s son, Persephone exclaimed.
I swore. But how! How could he have known she’d find some random, unknown child of Poseidon?
Unless…
“Could Zeus have access to a prophet?” I asked while Persephone got worked up about Poseidon saying Triton was her age. You’re closer to his age than Poseidon’s. I didn’t add how relieved I was that Poseidon saw Persephone as a child. Or that I wondered what it said about me that I didn’t.
You saved me, she said to the child-god.
No, he didn’t, I objected. It was irrational to feel defensive, but that didn’t seem to matter. Twice now someone from Poseidon’s world had saved her when I couldn’t. It takes more than drowning to kill you.
“…not aware of any living prophets, divine or otherwise.” Athena leaned back in her chair.
I jerked my head up. “What?”
She frowned at me. “Are you all right?”
With effort, I turned my attention away from Persephone. She was safe. I was no good to her if I couldn’t focus. But when I opened my mouth, I realized I couldn’t answer Athena’s question because I wasn’t “all right.” I’d seen what Zeus had put Persephone through, and it wasn’t over yet. “Can you repeat whatever you just said?”
She let out a long breath, as though repeating herself was beneath her. “I am not aware of any living prophets.”
Prophet gods were rare, even before Olympus fell. Knowing the future impacted the outcome, and gods, even minor ones, tended to be involved in events in a big way. Most gods born with the gift of prophecy passed it along to demigods eons ago. Humans rarely lived long enough to master it. It had taken Cassandra centuries to get to the point where she could understand her visions, much less communicate them to me in any meaningful way. It was unlikely Zeus had access to a prophet.
But it made so much sense. Over the last year we’d been moved around like pawns until we were exactly where Zeus wanted us. I thought back to the day I’d rescued Persephone and brought her down to the Underworld. Could that have all been engineered by Zeus?
He couldn’t have known how everything would end up, could he?
“Demeter…” I paused, uncertain how to proceed. “Persephone is in Poseidon’s realm.”
Demeter’s face went white.
“He hasn’t found her yet, but—”
Demeter grabbed my hand, and before I could blink, we were standing on a beach. She walked to the edge of the shoreline, picked up a shell, and tossed it into the ocean.
“I can handle this.” I kept my eyes on the ocean and off her face, sensing that she needed a moment to compose herself. “You didn’t have to come.”
“Yes, I did.” Demeter’s skirt and hair whipped around her in the wind. She looked so much like Persephone, but I never saw Persephone in her. I’d known Demeter too