24
Hermes’s chiton is the blue gray of the angry clouds that claw over one another overhead. He flies from the box, his winged talaria flapping wildly as they carry him to us.
Elias and Niall help Koda stand.
Even the usually unflappable Hermes isn’t kind when we don’t show him the proper amount of deference, though that is a measurement that ebbs and flows like the tides, depending on their moods, and one which the mortals must always guess at.
He lands with a smile and nods to the various groups gathered, drawing this out when I just need it to be over.
“We hope that each of you enjoyed your unique gift today and want to congratulate you on surviving the third trial. It was certainly entertaining. So many surprises…” Hermes stares at Hazi for a breath.
Two. The messenger god walks through the small clusters of contenders until he stands before Koda, Niall, and Elias.
“You were the first to enter the arena, Koda Zivai.”
Koda’s teeth chatter as he bows his head for Hermes to place the golden laurel on his crown, quietly offering his thanks.
“Tonight’s celebration will be held at the palaestras. Please arrive at your respective courtyard at sunset,” Hermes announces, but glances back at Koda as he adds, “If you’re too ill to attend, or choose to attend the ill, your absence will be excused.”
I narrow my eyes at the unusual showing of kindness, wondering why the change of venue, and why the separation – again?
“The fourth trial will take place at dawn in four days’ time. A celebration will follow that night for the contenders who survive it. Those who do not secure a divine champion before the crown strikes the winner’s brow, will be leaving us.”
Always reminding us of the blades at our throats, as August so perfectly described it.
On a positive note, Koda will have some much-needed time to recover, and he won’t be required to attend tonight. Thank the gods for Anansi championing him. Otherwise, he likely wouldn’t have been excused.
Hermes looks us over before flying back to the box. Some of the gods have already gone. Some linger, talking amongst themselves.
August nudges my arm. “Ready?”
“Cillian’s here. I need to talk to him for a second.”
“I’ll wait with you,” he says, then asks Niall and Elias to take Koda to our oikos.
I study the mortals flowing out the exits and find a tall, familiar face walking against the flow.
“Callalie!” Cillian yells, waving.
I smile and pray I’m not too late.
He leaps into the bottom of the arena and meets me halfway. I throw my arms around his neck and whisper urgently in his ear. “Take Abuela to Morrigan’s realm as soon as you’re able. Ask the goddess to protect her. She’s in danger.”
His grip tightens on me. “Are you sure?”
“I am.”
He squeezes me once more before letting me go, turning and running toward the nearest exit. All I can think as I watch him leave is…What if we’re too late?
August and I are among the last to arrive back at the temple.
We rush down the steps and manage to catch up with Niall and Elias as they share Koda’s weight near the bottom of the many staircases.
At the final landing, August takes Koda into his arms and carries him the rest of the way to our oikos.
I open the door for them and hurry to peel back the blanket before August gingerly lays our friend in the bed.
“I need boiling water. I have a tea that might help him,” I say aloud, wondering how we can get it for him. If they ask their champions for it, would that break the rules against helping another pantheon’s mortal? What if they also take a sip?
Niall and Elias look to each other for a solution when one creeps into the room.
“Koda requires boiling water, you say?” Anansi, regally draped in red, conjures a kettle that leaks steam from its spout and walks to the bedside.
My shoulders sag with relief. I take the tin out of my pocket, open the lid, and shake the loose leaves into a cup.
Anansi’s sharp eyes meet mine before flicking to the teacup. He sniffs the air like he’s sifting through the contents and quantities. “This is your tea?”
I nod.
“It’s very kind of you to share it with him.” Anansi carefully pours steaming water into the cup.
I take a spoon and mix it well, then let it steep. Bits of leaves and petals swirl at the surface. “I don’t have any honey. I hope it’s not too bitter,” I apologize.
August helps Koda sit up and in a moment of uncharacteristic tenderness and care, Anansi takes the cup from my hands and holds it to Koda’s chapped lips. “Drink, my friend.” The god offers him sips until only the dregs remain.
I offer him a spoon. “Every part is important.”
Anansi feeds Koda the leaves and petals. Nothing goes to waste.
In the hour that follows, Koda’s shivering stops. His coughing vanishes and he breathes easier. The flush recedes from his cheeks, along with his fever. Relief settles over us all.
We help him get comfortable in the bed, then cover him with the blanket so he can rest. He falls asleep, his soft, rhythmic breathing the only sound as Anansi nods toward the door.
August and I follow him outside, where Niall and Elias wait.
“How is he?” Niall asks, looking between our faces.
“Resting,” Anansi answers.
August and Niall start talking and their voices gradually become muffled. I worry something’s wrong with my hearing, fearing I lost more blood than I realized, when the trickster god’s keen eyes turn to me.
“No one – god or mortal – can hear us right now. I’ve cast a web over us.”
My chest tightens. The temple looms above. The Greek gods made this sand, every grain. It’s their wind that rustles the sea oats. “How can you be sure?”
“Because I have a unique ability, Callalie Ryan. Now, I’m going to ask you a very simple question. Where did you get that tea?”
He’s a snake in the brush, and I’m someone walking by without realizing the danger. I fight the urge to swallow. To run. I pray that my mother is safe and hidden, and that Cillian was able to get to Abuela and take her to Morrigan for protection.
“Did the Pythia give it to you?” he presses. Anansi stares at the oikos. “I haven’t smelled one of its ingredients in millennium.”
As much as I want to trust Anansi, I can’t.
If he thinks the Pythia provided this remedy, let him.
“You should go talk to her, then. I don’t know anything about the concoction.
” In the end, he’s a god playing a game, and I’m a mortal who would do anything to protect my family.
I clear my throat. “Maybe something in the tea just reminds you of whatever you think you remember.”
His eyes narrow. “Whatever I think…” he seethes. “The allies you’ve made will be vital as you move forward, Callalie. But don’t forget that gods can be allies, too.”
He’s going to get me killed if anyone notices us or senses what he’s doing. A nosy god or mortal might accuse him of assisting. Anansi doesn’t care about Koda, or else he wouldn’t risk his life over something as trivial as an ingredient in a cup of tea.
“Ogun still speaks of August Aymes,” he casually mentions. “Tell me who gave you that blend, and I will ensure he champions your friend.”
“With all due respect, Anansi, I don’t want allies who would hold something so vital over my head for information I don’t have,” I rasp, wholly disappointed. “Let me out of here. Now.”
I just saved his mortal, but that wasn’t enough. He wants more. Because if we have anything they don’t, no matter how insignificant, they can’t stand it. The trickster stares at me and I stare back.
He could rip the information from me, break me apart piece by piece. He considers it. A terrible, sentient desperation ripples in his eyes. These gods may look like they’re clothed in the same skin as us, but they’re not. If a mortal sees their true forms, they won’t live to describe it.
The instant Anansi drops the ‘web’ he cast over us, my three angry allies descend.
“What the fuck was that?” August demands.
Anansi gives a spider’s smile. “We needed to privately discuss something, August Aymes. It’s none of your concern.”
“She is my concern,” he insists, still livid. He seems to remember the other two men and gestures to them. “We’re her allies.”
“If Koda gets worse, or you change your mind…” Anansi hands me a whistle made from a thin piece of wood.
When Anansi disappears, I hand it to Elias. “Put this with Koda’s things.”
August curses. His eyes hold a vast, monster-laden sea of worry. I wonder if he knows I’m struggling to swim against the currents and beasts keep coming at me from the depths.
Niall steps closer. “Elias and I will stay with Koda tonight. We have champions. You two should go to the feast.”
Before it’s too late, he doesn’t need to add. And what if it already is?
“Thank you,” I tell Niall and Elias.
Fear is a living, breathing dragon in my belly. I thought Ogun might champion August, but now even that support is dependent on me giving Anansi information that might damn my own mother in ways I don’t understand.
What was in that tea that sparked such a reaction from him?
I bite my nail, wondering if pointing him to the Pythia was the wisest thing to do, even though I didn’t outright lie. What will the trickster do when he goes to her and she doesn’t have what he wants?
August watches me, sensing that something’s still wrong, no doubt.
Elias scuffs the sand with his bare foot. “So, were you all given a weird prophecy, or what?”
I laugh.
Niall purses his lips. “Weird is such a strong word.”
Elias gives him a playful, weak shove. “How would you describe your gift?”
“Unhelpful, as of yet,” Niall decides.
Elias promises to question him about it until he screams later, earning a groan from Niall, but also a smile. The two head out, promising to return in time for us to make it to the feast at sunset.
I’m at a loss for words, but I need to tell August about Ogun.
He rubs the back of his neck. “Sit with me for a while?”
“Of course.”