Page 26 of The Games Gods Play
“Stop talking,” he snarls.
I snap my mouth shut so quickly, I bite the inside of my cheek, but I refuse to wince.
He stares at me hard like I hold the secrets of the world. “Why you?” he mutters to himself. “You’re nothing.”
Ouch. But I guess I’m not the only one asking.
Meanwhile, the clock is running, and he’s wasting too many ticks.
Be warned,” he says. “Watch your back.”
“Are you threatening me?” I ask, glancing in the direction of the four Daemones watching every soul on this platform very closely.
“That would be against the rules.” Something in the way he looks when he says that—everything about him, his eyes, his jaw, his shoulders, rigid—keeps me from relaxing. “Then again,” he muses, “the rules will no longer apply after the Crucible is over.”
So this is a threat.
I’m not hazardously brave enough to call him on it, so instead I lean to the left slightly to peek around him, right at Hades. I don’t say a word, but I guess Hermes gets the hint when he turns his head to see where I’m looking.
Does he really want to tangle with that particular god? Even after the Crucible? Not that Hades will give me a second thought when this is done, but Hermes can’t be sure of that. “I get the impression that Hades is very possessive of anything he considers to be his, and he seems to be one to hold a grudge.” I look at Hermes. “Am I wrong?”
Without another word, Hermes stalks away.
Fantastic. The Crucible has hardly started, and I’m already public enemy number one.
The gong goes off again, stringing my nerves tighter. “Thirty minutes,” Zeles announces.
I look around at how many items are here. Thirty minutes isn’t going to be enough to check them all, and I still haven’t made it to the thing Zai saw to even know what I’m looking for. I move faster now, making my way across the platform to where he was, still trying to hide what I’m doing. I can practically hear the sundial ticking down the seconds like a clock with cogs. It’s not until one of the other champions shoots me a sidelong glance that I realize I’m humming. Again.
I clear my throat and pick up a slender baton, only to jump when it suddenly turns into a hissing snake in my grasp. It winds its way up my arm. Another trick of the gods, I see. Am I supposed to scream? Run away and hide? They’re amateurs at pranks compared to pledges.
“Not so fast, little fella.” Reaching up, I grasp it gently by the head and peel it away before it can loop around my neck. I look at it. “I don’t have time for a distraction right now.”
“Oh, give him here,” an impatient female voice says. Demeter’s golden armor sets off beige skin and wheat-colored hair. Even her eyes seem to spark with gold. I give her the snake, which winds around her wrist and snuggles into her like a beloved pet.
But she’s focused on me. “Why would Hades pick you?”
Everyone’s number one question, it seems. “You should ask him.”
I turn away but pause when she says, “He probably just wants to fuck you.”
Wow. I open my mouth but stop myself just in time. What if this isn’t her being a bitch? What if this is a mother jealous on her daughter’s behalf? Persephone’s death must still hurt her terribly. “My condolences,” I say, “on the loss of your—”
Demeter’s expression turns poisonous, and it leaks into her voice. “Don’t dare speak of her, mortal.” A nearby urn of beautiful lavender-colored hydrangeas withers, turning black at the edges.
I glance toward Hades. His expression is stony. No help from that area. I say nothing, and Demeter, chest heaving with the emotions she’s unable to control—a mother visibly heartbroken—walks away.
Great. I am going to be even more popular here than I am in the den. I can already tell. At least they mostly ignored me there. And at this rate, I’ll be competing with no gifts to help me and twelve gods, and their champions, all rooting for my demise.
Forcing my head back in the game, I finally get to the small glass flower shaped like a rose Zai stared at earlier and fight to control my expression as elation flutters through my chest. A symbol is etched into the bottom of the glass. A bow and arrow. This is the token meant for Artemis’ champion.
I set it down quietly and keep going like nothing happened.
At least now I know what I’m looking for—the one with Hades’ symbol.
Gong. “Twenty-five minutes,” Zeles calls.
Forget hiding what I’m doing. I rush now.
