Page 113 of The Games Gods Play
My jaw drops.
Music. The harp doesn’t want to be played—it wants to hear music.
“I did it.” The words fall in a whisper from my lips. Elation slams into me like I just stole the best score ever, and I have to swallow back a crow of delight.
I won!
I mean, not on purpose or anything. This was just a happy accident. But I don’t usually have happy accidents.
Oh my gods, I won.
I fucking won a Labor.
Hades is going to be over the damned moon—or his version of it, at least. Four Labors in, and I’m not dead, and I’m tied for victory with Diego, Zai, and Jackie. For the first time since Hades named me his champion, I feel a rush of confidence that I can survive this. Maybe even lose my curse.
And be loved.
Happiness blazes through my veins and has me bouncing on my toes with the energy of it fizzing warmly through me. It’s probably a good thing Hades is not here, because I’m pretty sure I’d throw myself into his arms.
I peek through the door, not wanting the watching world of the gods to see what I’m feeling in this moment.
After a deep breath, I step into the dark and creepy cave.
57
Sorry, Not Sorry
After only one step into the cave, I falter.
Zai and Meike are still out there. So are the others.
I have to make a decision. The thing is, if any of them don’t figure it out, they die. If that wasn’t on the table, I’d tell Zai and Meike and leave the others to figure it out for themselves.
My arms flop to my sides as I close my eyes and release a frustrated groan. But I can’t not. Opening my eyes, I look upward, knowing that, however they do it, all of Olympus is watching me go through this.
“I’m sorry, Hades,” I say, loud and clear.
There will be many hells to pay whenever he gets out of god jail or wherever they’re holding him, if he’s talking to me at all.
I’m actually looking forward to arguing with him about anything again.
Focus, Lyra.
I step back from the marble door leading into the cavern and close it, and maybe thirty seconds later, the satyr opens the door to the waiting room. The moment the others clock that I’m wearing my flags, they all jump to their feet in a jumble of exclamations and more than a few curses.
I raise a hand to shut them up. “Each and every one of you has to swear, on your lives, that if I give you the answer, you will not harm or hinder any other champion in completing either of today’s Labors.” Trading information for safety worked for the last Labor, right? Then I hesitate. Consequences have a different meaning to me now.
I glance at Zeles. “Is that against the rules?”
“No.”
“Good.” I face the champions.
A litany of expressions stare back at me—shock, dubiousness, anger. But the proof that I know the answer is on my body in the form of four flags. “Promise me, or I’ll only tell my allies and the rest of you can risk ending up in the Underworld.”
“What are you doing?” Zai mouths.
“I’m sorry,” I mouth back at him and Meike. Meike at least shoots me a thumbs-up. See. She gets it.
