“Good,” she says. “That’s good.”

“Why are you in here?” I ask. “Why aren’t you in a cell like Euryale?”

Her laugh is full of pride. “The shackles and steel bars were no match for my strength.” She demonstrates by yanking the metal flap off its hinges. “I broke out of three cells before they decided to contain me in here. If there was any exposed hardware, I’d have broken out of this place too.”

“That’s really—”

A sharp pain pierces my skull, right above my forehead. I rub at the spot, trying to do something—anything—to stop the pain. My migraines are usually triggered by bright lights—clearly not the case here.

I just have to push through the pain.

The pain is only the beginning, the male voice says.

No, not now.

Leave her, the woman says.

You dare defy me? he roars. You dare violate the binds of ritual?

No more than you fight the prophecy itself, she throws back. You mock your own rules and—

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“Enough!” I shout. Hands pressing on my temples, I try to push the voices out of my mind. “Leave me alone!”

I clench my eyes shut, waiting for the argument to continue, but there’s nothing but silence—blissful silence.

When I open my eyes, Sthenno is frowning at me through the small opening.

“You touched the pendant,” she demands, “didn’t you?”

She sounds furious.

“Yes,” I reply, wary at her tone. “I had to. Gretchen went into the abyss and we didn’t know how to get her out. I had a vision that told me the pendant would give me the answers. And it did. If I hadn’t touched the pendant, she wouldn’t have—”

“Damn it! You are a walking trap,” she says. “You’ll get us all killed or captured.”

“No,” I argue. “We’re going to rescue you.” The pain is getting worse—my vision is starting to blur. I reach for the whistle hanging around my neck and lift it to my lips. “We already have Euryale safe. We’re going to take you home.”

Pain slices through my forehead. I suck in a breath to blow the signal.

As the ear-piercing shrill of the whistle echoes down the stone hallway, off the metal doors and into the dungeon beyond, my mind explodes like someone took an ax to my skull.

“Greer!” I hear Sthenno cry out as I collapse to the ground.

I don’t even fight the black as I am yanked into another vision.

I am in a white room. It is made of marble, like the halls of Mount Olympus, and decorated with laurel branches and ravens. In the corner, a stand holds a golden instrument that looks like a miniature harp.

“Welcome, young huntress.”

I spin to face the source of the familiar voice, the voice that has been whispering in my mind. It is a man—no, more than a man. A god. I don’t know how I know; I just know.

“Who—who are you?”

I never stammer. But, then again, I’ve never come face to face with a god—not even in a vision.

He smiles, his beautiful face transformed into an angelic expression. “You do not know?” His smile fades, replaced by a scowl. “How charming.”

I take it all in—the ravens, the lyre, the too beautiful face.

“You’re Apollo.”

He applauds softly. Mockingly.

“After all the time we’ve spent together, I would be hurt if you didn’t know.”

“Time together?” I shake my head. “We’ve never met.”

“Not formally, I suppose.” He studies me. “But I have been watching you closely since you touched my pendant.”

“Watching me?” The air rushes out of my lungs.

If he has been watching me, he has been watching my sisters, watching our progress. No wonder enemies keep showing up everywhere we go. Apollo knows just where to send them.

Remembering the sensation of being pulled out of my body and pulled into this vision, I ask, “Why did you bring me here?”

“I thought we should have a chat. Please”—he gestures at the space in front of me, and a chair appears—“have a seat.”

Something feels very wrong about this situation. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be having a conversation with a god while in a vision. They shouldn’t work like this.

I slowly shake my head. “No thank you.” I straighten my spine. “What do you want from me?”

“What do I want?” he asks, his voice deceptively sweet. “I want you and your sisters to walk away. I want you to let the door seal forever so my family has something else to talk about over dinner.”

In a flash, Apollo is right in front of me, mere inches away.

“Since you do not seem inclined to give up,” he says, “then I want you dead.”

“You will have to find us first,” I say with more bravado than I feel. My heart pounds like an earthquake in my chest. “You cannot kill what you cannot catch.”

“You cannot hide.” He smiles, and the expression knocks my breath away. “You and your companions have fought children until now. The wrath of Olympus is in motion against you. Not even one of my sister’s wayward soldiers can save you. You will not know what hit you.”

His sister’s soldiers? What does that mean? He is only trying to confuse and frighten me, and, well . . . I do not frighten easily. I’ve never faced down a god before, but I dig down deep and draw out all my courage.




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