Page 84 of The Games Gods Play
part 4
keep your enemies closer
I’ve failed so many times,
not succeeding is now statistically impossible.
42
Did I Already Lose My Ally?
After bathing and dressing, I grab my tactical vest and slip it over my shoulders, then head out of my bedroom. I guess Hades must have left while I was in the shower. I try not to notice how the house feels quiet and lonely without his larger-than-life presence.
On my way to the stairs, I notice an open door that has always been closed when I’ve come by here, and my steps falter.
Quietly, I enter the narrow, windowless room—almost a closet, really. Painted entirely red, the room has only one thing in it. Well…lots of little things, but they all serve the bigger piece.
An altar.
Buttery sunlight pours in from a skylight overhead to fill the space with air and spotlight the altar itself. My heart constricts little by little, turning to a dull ache behind my ribs as I take in the details. I’ve seen altars to passed loved ones before, of course, but nothing like this.
It’s colorful, with bouquets upon bouquets of narcissus flowers—mostly in cheerful yellows and bright whites but with pops of purples and oranges and reds as well. They surround a torch that rises from the center of the table made of black obsidian. A glittering skull forms the pedestal at the top of the torch for deep-red flames that cast sparks into the air.
Two pomegranate trees on either side bend to touch each other over the altar, like lovers embracing. Dark-green leaves are interspersed with the large red, ripe fruit with their distinct star-shaped tuft on the bottom.
Persephone.
This altar is for her.
She’s been gone some time now. A hundred years at least. Though, I guess in the scheme of Hades’ life, that’s not long. But to have this here for the rare times he visits…he must still be in deep mourning.
Suddenly, I feel like I’ve intruded on something so private, so sacred, that I should never have laid eyes on it.
I bow to the altar, offering a silent apology to the deceased goddess of spring and Queen of the Underworld, then back out and quietly close the door behind me.
But the image and the knowledge of its existence feel like weights I’ve hung on my heart. It drags at me all the way to the gates of Hermes’ house, where I’m supposed to meet Zai.
He’s not here yet, though, so I wait, checking my watch. I’m right on time. He doesn’t strike me as the type to be late. Should I go inside? Except if I bump into Hermes, I might make things worse for Zai.
I shift on my feet, trying to make up my mind. I even consider sending in one of my tattoos to get him. Then the gate opens, but it’s not Zai. A satyr with mint-green fur on his lower goat half and purple hooves and horns emerges and offers me a note before returning inside without a word.
It’s from Zai. A single sentence.
Meet me behind Hermes’ temple. ~Z
Hades’ concern is starting to ring true. This is not a good sign, if Zai feels the need to hide and send notes. He should be safe enough in Hermes’ house, right?
I hurry down the road, looking over my shoulder frequently, like an escaped prisoner. I’m especially careful as I make my way through the Main Street area and only relax when I get to the temple.
But Zai isn’t here, either.
I whistle the signal to come out before I remember he’s not one of my fellow pledges and wouldn’t recognize it. But there’s a rustle to my right all the same, and a head pops up.
“Oh my gods, Zai.” I manage to keep my voice down, but he waves at me to be quiet all the same, then glances around me past the tree.
“Did anyone follow you?” he whispers.
“I don’t think so, but are you—”
