Chapter 57
Evadne
Hercules is going to take his time on the Virtus, no doubt. My fists clench as I remember how he looked at Hedone at the feast. Two can play at that game, I think, grabbing a coarse coil of rope up off the deck and tying it to the metal railing.
I throw the rope over the edge of the Hybris and climb over the railing.
Carefully coiling a length around my wrist, I test the rope with both hands.
Satisfied it will hold my weight, I ease myself over the edge of the ship, the flats of my feet against the sheer metal plating of the hull.
I begin to walk down the metal, one hand moving over the other on the harsh rope.
Does he think I’ll fail to reach their boat on foot? Or is he testing me?
No, I know what he’s doing. He’s proving that he controls my actions. That I have no choice but to follow his orders. A snarl escapes my lips. I’ll prove how much he needs me.
When I’m a few feet from the bottom and the hull begins to curve away beneath me, I let go, landing softly with my knees bent.
The smell of soil is stronger on the ground, and I take a moment’s pleasure in feeling it beneath my feet.
Yellowing grass crunches as I walk toward the Zephyr.
Not all of Sagittarius is this hot, I’ve read.
Some areas are shaded forest, and I’m sure there’s a mountain range on the island somewhere.
Mountains are usually colder, I think, though in Olympus you can never assume anything.
What looked like a short distance from the high quarterdeck feels like miles to me in the hot sun. I’m regretting the black leather vest I’m wearing as I trudge across the dry ground, the Orion looming larger as I approach.
I study the long wooden planks of the hull, lined with portholes and ballista windows, trying to figure out the best way to sneak on board.
It doesn’t look like I’ll be able to climb all the way up onto the deck—the ship is too large, and anyone on either of the two quarterdecks will spot me when I reach the top.
I decide I’ll climb to one of the ballista windows and pray that I can squeeze through the gap between the weapon and the frame.
It isn’t until I’m a lot closer that I realize most of the ballista windows are empty. That’s interesting. The Orion hasn’t equipped most of their guns, which means either they can’t afford to, or they have weapons elsewhere. I’ll need to tell Hercules this.
The Zephyr is hovering ten feet off the dry grass, and I curse my captain under my breath when I jump for the bottom of the ship and fail to get a grip for the third time.
Panting, I crouch down on the balls of my feet and count backward from three, before launching myself up again.
This time I get my fingers into the gaps between the lowest planks, and I hiss in pain as my fingernail tears on the rough wood.
I don’t let go, though, pulling my legs up after me, trying to get purchase on the hull.
I ignore the pain in my finger as I climb, slowly and carefully, to the nearest ballista window.
Peering cautiously around the edge of the frame, I check the room beyond is empty and silently ease my way through the window and onto the wooden floor.
I’m in the enormous cargo deck, I realize, looking around at dusty crates lining the hull.
It’s nothing like the cargo deck on the Hybris.
For one, it barely has anything in it, despite being three or four times the size.
The ceiling is probably double the height of the Hybris’s, I estimate as I creep toward the hauler in the middle of the other wall.
My mind whirs as I realize I should have come up with a plan, instead of seething about Hercules for the last forty minutes.
If all the giants are up on deck with their longboat, how am I going to pull off a sabotage attempt?
I’ll have to take an opportunity as I find one, I suppose. I swallow down a tendril of fear as I imagine the big captain dropping me over the edge of the deck if he catches me. No way I’d survive that hard ground.
Don’t get caught, then, dummy, I tell myself.
I creep along floor after floor, looking for a quiet way up to the top deck, where I assume they will have their longboat. Hopefully unguarded.
“Antaeus? How’s it going with the—” The sentence cuts short as I pass an open door.
Shit! I throw myself against the wall, heart hammering in my chest, but I’m too late.
“You! What are you doing here?”
I let out a breath. It could be worse. The voice belongs to Eryx.
“Shh,” I hush him, slipping into the room and quietly closing the wooden door behind me. Time for a new plan. “You’ll give me away.”
His face is furious as he stares at me from a massive bed. I take in the thick bandages around his chest and frown.
“Wow. I saw what happened with the Hydra in the flame dish. I have to admit, you were pretty impressive.” I walk toward the bed, and he struggles to sit up. “I didn’t realize you were injured, though. Are you all right?”
“You shouldn’t be here!” he snaps, pushing his loose hair back from his face self-consciously. I haven’t seen it out of its usual knot before. I smile and sit on the edge of his bed.
“I know.” I lean over, picking up a mostly empty glass of sludge. He tenses as I tilt it from side to side before sniffing it. “Gods, that smells vile,” I exclaim.
“It is. Why are you here?”
“Maybe I wanted to talk to you.” I look him in the eye.
He crosses his arms across his chest and flinches.
“I doubt that very much,” he snarls.
I shrug and look absently around the room.
“Talk to me about what?” he asks eventually.
It’s almost too easy to play him. The tiniest coil of guilt tries to worm its way through my stomach, but I squish it instantly.
“About the Hydra. About how brave you were.” I smile at him.
“It really was impressive.” My long ponytail falls across my bare shoulder as I cock my head at him.
He swallows as he follows the movement down to the tight leather vest I’m wearing.
“Eyes up, big boy,” I say. His face flushes immediately, and I laugh.
“Well, at least you’re getting some color back. ”
“I’m not talking to you. You shouldn’t be here. Leave, now.”
“You’re always saying that to me.” I pout.
“You’re always in places you shouldn’t be!” he snaps. “Why are you really here?”
“I told you, to talk to you. I want to know more about you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care. Tell me about your father.”
“If you want to know about Poseidon, you’ve picked the wrong giant to talk to. I don’t know anything about him.” He looks down angrily at his folded arms as he speaks.
“Why not?” I push.
“Because that’s how it works. Poseidon, Zeus, Hermes—all of them. In fact, I don’t think there’s a male god who hasn’t got abandoned children all over Olympus, except maybe Hades.”
Excellent. I’ve found one weak spot. Now to fish for information that might help later.
“What about Aquarius? Have you been there?”
He nods. “I grew up there. Then I moved to Aries when my mother died.” He trails off and drops my gaze. The guilt worm tries again. It’s a little harder to squash this time, but hey, we’ve all got dead parents.
“Aries, huh? Dangerous place, I’ve heard,” I say eventually. He looks up at me, pushing his chin out.
“Not for a champion boxer.”
“Ah, you had a taste for life as a gladiator, did you?”
“Gladiators fight because they have to; boxers fight because they’re good at it,” he says, and then frowns. His eyes narrow and he tilts his head, staring at me. “Speaking of fighting, who did you have a bout with?” he says, voice low.
This time I blush. And I fucking hate blushing.
I stand, awkward. I thought I had enough powder on to hide the bruised cheek.
“None of your business.”
“He hits you.” It’s not a question. I turn to the door.
“You really were impressive in the Hydra trial,” I say over my shoulder.
“Why would a man as strong and powerful as Hercules need to hit a woman?” he growls.
Power. Pleasure. Sadism.
I say nothing, but the anger in his tone makes my feet stop.
Eryx is soft. Na?ve. He won’t understand that it’s the price I pay for the goal I’m chasing. One I’m willing to pay.
But, for a beat, the thought of someone being angry that I’m in pain causes the unfamiliar feeling of doubt to course through me.
“I walked into something,” I say quietly.
Eryx lets out a long growl, and I turn back to him. His expression is livid.
“You should leave him.”
I snort. “And lose a shot at immortality?” I shake my head. “Not a chance.”
Now he looks even angrier, his bandaged chest rigid and his broad cheeks ruddy.
“Why in the name of all the gods would you want to live forever with a man so cruel? Do you not understand that if you win, he’s immortal too?”
I shrug. “Olympus is a big place. I can always leave later, if I want to.”
Something dark flashes in his eyes, and when he speaks, it’s with low resignation. “You love him.”
To my surprise, emotion grips my chest. I do a very, very good job of suppressing emotion. What the fuck is this overprotective lummox who barely knows me doing, messing that up?
“No,” I whisper. I don’t know why I’m still talking.
He fixes his gaze on mine. “You don’t love him?”
I shake my head and repeat myself. “No.”
“So, it’s all for immortality?”
“Yes. I’m a grown-ass woman, Eryx. I’m choosing this. I can take care of myself.”
“He’s a filthy piece of shit, and I would love nothing more than to tear his throat out if he ever lays a finger on you again,” he growls, and I can’t help the surge of something that bolts through me. Is it longing? Do I actually want someone to take care of me? To protect me?
But I know how that goes. It’s always the same. I end up alone, and only I can be responsible for myself. I can only trust myself. That’s how it has to be.
“I’m in control,” I say. I think about the last few days, and crush down the feeling that that may not be true.
“He’s more than ten times stronger than you, and a masochist!” Eryx half shouts, and slams his fist down on the mattress beside him. He gives a bark of pain and clutches his ribs, and I’m at his side before I realize I’ve moved.
I just stop myself from reaching out to him. “You all right?” I mutter instead.
“No,” he snaps, his scarred face screwed up in pain. “And you won’t be if you don’t get off his ship.”
I sigh and step back. “What I do with my life is up to me, big boy,” I say, slipping back into my cocky tone. “But thanks for the concern. Now, I’d better be going.”
“I’m going to tell Antaeus you’re here. Right now,” he says.
I pout at him. “But where’s the fun in that?”
“Your reason for being on my ship can only be to cause damage. That’s what you do, manipulate, lie, and cause damage.” He’s still glaring, but now the anger is directed at me. “I guess you’re right. You do belong on the Hybris.”
The slight sting from his words makes me realize that I’ve fallen too far into this conversation. I’ve let slip too much.
“Give me a five-minute head start,” I say with a coy smile.
“If he catches you, he will throw you straight over the side,” Eryx says.
“You wouldn’t let him do that,” I coo.
He gestures down at his bandages. “You think I can stop him?”
His face is stone, and I think he might actually be telling the truth. “Fine. I’m going.”
“Go fast. And don’t come back.”