Page 110 of The Games Gods Play
Apollo smiles, and it’s impossible not to be drawn to the god. “Welcome, champions, to your fourth Labor!” Apollo’s smile widens as he looks to Artemis. She, unlike her brother, is not a smiler.
“And your fifth Labor,” she announces.
“What?” Neve is the one to protest. Rather loudly. “No one said anything about two at once.”
Ares sits stoically beside her, but judging by the tightening of his features, I think he’s not too happy about her outburst.
Artemis spears her with a single, unimpressed look, and Neve quiets, though she doesn’t stop glaring.
“No one said anything about not having two at once, either,” the goddess says in a voice that tells the rest of us that arguing is pointless…and noted. “We are twins. We have done everything together since the womb.”
Dae, sitting by Rima on the bench, crooks his ally a smug little smile. I look away quickly so no one notices that I saw, but I can’t help but wonder if there is a rift among that group of allies.
Apollo waves at the door they came through. “In order to make it to Artemis’ Labor, you must first complete mine.”
Two in one shot? Sure. Why the fuck not?
I’m way past fear or silver linings and have hit the fuck-them-all phase of the Crucible, I guess.
“For my Labor,” Apollo continues, “you will each individually have two minutes at a time in the room behind me. Your goal is to find the trigger that will open a door—it might be physical, and it might not. If you don’t find the answer in your allotted two minutes—”
“Let me guess,” Neve grumbles. “We die, eh?”
“Do you wish to die right now?” Ares asks her in a low aside that sends rigid tension crawling up my own spine, and he’s not even talking to me.
Neve closes her mouth and shakes her head, red curls bouncing.
Apollo smiles. “No. You will return to this room. You will each take your turns in an order I specify, and you may try as many times as you need until you figure it out.”
Which means those who answer faster will get a head start on Artemis’ Labor.
“You may discuss what you find in the room with any of the champions you like but not with your god or goddess,” Apollo says. “They will be taken elsewhere when this begins.”
“What if we never figure it out?” Zai asks.
“Then you will die.” The answer is given in the same tone Apollo might use to announce that a sumptuous meal had just been served. As if this is a pleasant end.
After getting to know Hades, I’m starting to agree with him.
I blow out a frustrated breath through my nose, and it takes my total concentration to keep all my body parts still. Yet another Labor that is geared to unlevel the damned playing field. No wonder Hades finds loopholes.
“How do we win this Labor?” Rima asks, her delicate surgeon’s hands clasped in her lap.
Apollo gives his champion a nod like he appreciates that at least one person is playing to win. “If or when you find the answer—and no, it is not a riddle—you will be given something, and a door will open to let you start Artemis’ Labor. The first person to do so is the winner of my Labor. You will receive your prize at the end of both.”
He steps back so his sister can describe hers.
That’s it? That’s all there is to his? Find the answer and open a door?
“For your fifth Labor,” Artemis says, “as my brother explained, you will be given something when the door is opened. That something is four flags that you will wear on your body—one for Strength, one for Mind, one for Heart, and one for Courage.”
Her eyes linger on me. I’m getting really tired of being the only champion with a different thing.
Artemis pulls her gaze away from mine. “These flags will appear clipped to your person where you think they would—on your arm for Strength, over your heart for Heart, on a headband for Mind, and to your spine for Courage. Your job will be to not lose your flags as you run an obstacle course.”
Obstacle course. I deflate like a punctured balloon. I suck at those.
“Do we try to take one another’s flags?” Dex, of course, asks that.
