I can’t help myself, I squeal like a schoolgirl and rush her, wrapping my arms around her neck. On an inhale, I’m immediately taken back to all of the mornings we spent picking flowers and all of the afternoons dozing in meadows and the late nights we stayed up stuffing our faces with sweet cakes and poppy seed cookies.
Clea smells like all of those things, like flowers and sunshine and sugar.
Gaia, I’ve missed her.
“Oh, Ana,” Clea says against my hair.
When I pull away from her, Hades is gone and Monstrat excuses himself. “I’ll be back in thirty minutes,” he says.
I tug Clea inside the room and then give her another hug. I don’t want to let her go. I’m too afraid of her disappearing like Hades in a puff of smoke.
Right now, I need her more than ever. I need something—someone that feels familiar and safe.
“I’m so happy you’re here. Hades brought you?”
“Yes, well, of a sort. I was summoned to the palace by a letter signed in Hades’s hand. That’s about as much as I interacted with him.”
“Well that’s enough, trust me.”
She laughs and plops down on one of the slipper chairs. “So, here you are, one of the last two standing. How do you feel?”
“Where even to begin?”
Clea smiles at me. “I’m so proud of you, Ana.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t be. Just because I’m here doesn’t exactly mean I’ve succeeded. It just means I haven’t lost yet.”
“Is that not the same thing?” There’s a teasing lilt to her voice.
“Let’s not talk about the trial. How are the others? Marigold?”
Clea absently twirls the end of her long blonde braid around her finger as she talks. It’s a habit of hers that makes her that much more endearing. “Marigold is picking and delivering flowers with me now and she’s a natural. She has this magical ability to find the rarest of blooms. Just the other day she found a bunch of yellow piminies. Yellow! Can you believe it?”
“That’s amazing. And I’m so glad she’s doing well.”
I certainly made a frustrating partner in our duties. I could never summon the proper amount of enthusiasm when it came to picking and even less when it came to delivering. And don’t forget half of what I picked withered and died in my hand. Not that I ever told Clea that. It just meant that the flowers I contributed were always half of what they should have been.
But Clea never complained about shouldering the lion’s share of the chore.
Clea never complains about anything.
If I lose, I will miss her the most.
She must read the sadness on my face, because her smile fades and a frown takes its place. “What’s wrong?” she asks.
“I just wish I could take you with me wherever I end up.”
Her smile returns. “You’ll win this. I’m sure of it. And I can visit you at Hades’s House. There’re no rules against that. And when you have time off, we’ll meet in the city for coffee and pastries. I’ll look forward to that the most.”
I nod and squeeze her hand because what else am I going to do? It’s a fantasy we’ll never have. Because even if I were to win my trial, I’ll have a position within Hades’s inner circle and those people have no rest at all.
Plus…Cronus is here and…
Nope.
Not gonna go down that road.
No way.
“Thanks Clea,” I say. “Thank you for being the best sister I could have ever asked for.”
She pats my arm. “Same to you.”
When we pull away, she stands up and says, “Now, we don’t have much time. Let’s go explore this giant palace and see what we can see.”
I give her a face that is all mock scandal. “Clea, you naughty girl!” I sing in a voice not unlike Sura’s. “You can’t go snooping around the palace of the God of the Underworld! You must always act with decorum!”
We dissolve into a fit of giggles and then hurry out the door.
Chapter 23
Clea and I find a dozen treasures in the palace that we have no time to dwell on. Like a twenty-foot statue of Cerberus in a giant conservatory that houses so many exotic green plants, we’re unable to identify a single one.
We find the library that, instead of being lit by sunlight, is lit by floating golden orbs. It’s the most magical thing I’ve ever seen, and a fleeting thought runs through my mind that maybe I wouldn’t hate living in the palace.
The pre-trial celebration is in full swing in the ballroom, but we bypass it and instead find a giant swimming pool with a black rocky bottom and a hot spring beside it.
Somehow, being with Clea has pushed every one of my worries aside. By the time we head back to my room, I’m feeling more optimistic about the future. Even if I can’t be in hers.
We’re just turning into the last hallway before my room when we run into Haven.
I hook my arm through Clea’s and draw her nearer, though I can’t tell if I mean to shield her from him, or if she’s the shield.
Haven’s fan club is nowhere to be seen.
“Clea, how nice to see you,” Haven says and bows to her.
Clea tries not to let this extreme level of respect get to her, but I can see the flattery shining in her eyes. “Nice to see you as well,” she says.
“How’ve you been fairing at Hestia’s House without Ana? I’m sure it’s not been enjoyable. Though I suspect it means there’s more sweet cakes for everyone.”
She laughs. Laughs!
“We miss her, of course. We all do. There’s no one like Ana.”
Haven looks at me. There’s a teasing smile on his face when he says, “Of that, I’m absolutely certain.” Then he bows again, not as low this time, and says, “I should be going. I have a trial to win.” He winks at me and then turns away.
When he’s gone, Clea grabs me by the arm and says, “What happened to him? He seems so different! Nicer even!” She pokes me in the ribs with her other hand. “What did you do to him? Did you rub off on him? I knew there must be a good reason for you to be chosen for Hades’s House. Converting Hades’s descendants into decent human beings.”
“Hah!” I roll my eyes. “It’s just an act. Believe me.”
She frowns. “Really? He seemed genuine.”
“Everything Haven does seems genuine until its not.”
Monstrat comes around the corner and calls out for me. “It’s time,” he says.
Clea’s face falls. “I guess this is it.” She pulls me into a fierce hug. “Good luck, Ana. I know you’ll do great.”
“Thanks, Clea.” I hug her back, afraid to let her go.
This really is it.
Whatever happens after this, everything will change. I’m not ready for it. I’m not ready to lose Clea for good. I’m not ready to face Haven. I’m not ready to win and I’m not ready to lose.
Of course, according to Haven, I have no chance of winning anyway.
“I should go,” I say and try to bite back the tears blurring in my eyes.
Clea boldly swipes hers from her cheeks. “I’ll be watching from the theater rooting for you the entire way.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
When we part ways, I can’t keep the tears at bay any longer and Monstrat is kind enough to say nothing as the tears roll down my face.
Chapter 24
Monstrat takes me to a dressing room with another door through the other side. It’s from that direction that I can hear and sense the buzz of the waiting crowd. And when the gods and goddesses arrive, their names called out like at the Choosing Ceremony, the crowd goes absolutely wild.
I should have known the final trial of Hades’s House would be a public spectacle. Has it always been this way and I just never cared enough to pay attention? Has Haven suspected all along that our final trial would come down to a show and brute strength?
If he was playing me all along, it makes much more sense for him to want to fight me than someone like Pearce.
It’s
moments like these that I realize just how insane my being here is.
Monstrat pulls open the door of a wardrobe set into the stone wall. Inside is my final layer of battle gear.
I find a breastplate made of thin leather with metal epaulets that are attached at the shoulder. Tall brown leather boots stand on the wardrobe’s bottom. Instead of laces like my boots, these new ones fasten with three strong buckles.
Monstrat helps me finalize my gear.
Lastly, I plait my hair into a tight braid and secure it with a leather strap.
“How do I look?” I ask Monstrat.
“Like a warrior,” he says.
I can’t help but snort. “Any parting advice?”
Monstrat stands at the door that must lead out to the amphitheater. He waves me over. When I stand beside him, he checks the buckles on my breastplate and then motions for me to hold out my arms. When I do, he slides leather vambraces over my forearms and buckles them snugly into place.
“Haven will be operating with the belief that he’s stronger than you. That may be true, but strength is only one part of the equation.” Monstrat puts his hand on the doorknob but doesn’t turn it. “You have the advantage of being smaller and lighter than he is, which means speed and agility.
“In addition to that, your power is greater than his, so if you can avoid getting stuck in one of his illusions, you can use your power to beat him.”
I nod as if this all makes sense. But if I’m being honest, I’m not entirely confident I could escape one of Haven’s illusions. I haven’t exactly been fighting against them recently.
My face pinks at the thought of what Haven and I did on Mount Ida. He’s always known how to get beneath my skin, both with pleasure and pain.
“Ana?” Monstrat says.
“Yes. Right. I heard you.”
“Focus your concentration on the field and don’t expend all of your energy at once. Haven will try using his strength at the outset, so let him tire himself.”
“Okay.”
The volume of the crowd is growing by the second. Thunder booms overhead and the floor rumbles. Zeus must be showing off.
“Ready?” Monstrat turns the doorknob.
“Wait.” I hold Monstrat back with a hand on his arm. “Earlier…before Hades popped up in my room…you said something about a plan. What did you mean by that?”
He smiles and shakes his head. “I was just thinking aloud. It was obviously my plan all along that you’d win. I am your teacher, after all.”
I frown. That sounds like a credible explanation, but it doesn’t feel like a genuine one.
But before I can question him further, he pulls the door open and I have no choice but to move forward.
Chapter 25
Monstrat ushers me down a dimly lit hallway…or maybe tunnel is a better word for it. It seems to be carved right into the rock of the mountain. When the tunnel meets up with another, I find I’m suddenly standing beside Haven with the crowd roaring from the light of the other end.
Nereus is with him. He claps Haven on the back and instructs him to wait to hear his name called, then leaves. Monstrat turns to me and wishes me good luck.
Then we’re alone.
I can’t help but steal a look at him.
His dark hair is swooped back from his forehead and slick with some kind of pomade. It makes his cheekbones look longer and sharper in the flickering light of the wall sconces. His jaw is set, lips pursed.
Our armor is identical in function only. Where my breastplate is brown, his is black. His epaulets are scaled like a dragon’s hide as are his vambraces.
He looks stunning and fierce and it hurts my heart a little to see him standing beside me like this, knowing that in just a few short minutes I’ll be called to fight him.
I don’t want to fight him. I want his hands on me instead. On my skin. I want to feel his breath on my neck and his—
I reel in my wild thoughts.
I think this might be Haven’s biggest trick of all. I hate him and yet I can’t get enough of him. He’s the worst kind of guilty pleasure and I’m a glutton who will never be satiated.
The volume of the crowd ticks up in excitement and a second later, I hear the booming sound of Hades’s voice welcoming everyone to the final trial.
My stomach alights with anticipation. I fidget with my vambraces and check the straps again. “Does it feel good to be home again?” I say at a loss for anything else.
Haven flinches and clasps his hands behind his back. His armor groans as his muscles strain against the straps and buckles. “It’s never felt like my home.”
The crowd roars again. I missed whatever it was Hades said.
“They welcomed you like their long lost prince,” I try instead. “Surely that must feel good.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown, I suppose.” I laugh like it’s a joke, even though I’m serious.
Haven looks at me. His nostrils flare. His good eye burns brightly in the light. “It’s no crown.”
I snort. “Then what is it?”
He turns away and rolls his shoulders like his armor is beginning to chafe. “I am their puppet, expected to dance, and so I do.”
If he hadn’t stabbed me in the back so many times, I might feel sorry for him.
“I’m sure that’s what led you to do what you…” I swallow as heat burns in my cheeks. “On the mountain,” I say, dodging what I really mean. “Nereus probably put you up to that too, right? At every turn, you’ve burrowed beneath my skin. I know Nereus’s had it out for me since the beginning and you’ve been his puppet, using me every chance you got.”
Eyes still trained ahead at the exit, he says, “Oh, orphan, you’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?”
“Yup.” I laugh again. Is this still a joke?
The crowd goes quiet as Hades tells the tale of the first trial thousands of years ago.
“The truth has been staring me in the face all along, but I have to admit, I fell for it like all of your other adoring fans. You even had Nereus fooled, didn’t you? He kept pressuring you to get rid of me, but you knew I’d be an easy opponent to fight in the end.
“And when he told you to seduce me to get beneath my skin? Little did he know, you’d already done that.”
In a blink, Haven turns and drives me back against the wall.
We haven’t been assigned weapons yet, so all he has is the wide span of his arms and his brute strength.
It does the job.
He’s an immovable force.
There’s grit in the set of his jaw and anger in his narrowed eyes. “The truth, Hearthtender? You don’t know a fucking thing about the truth.”
He’s inches away now with his knee pinning me between the legs. Despite all the layers of clothing and armor between us, my skin reacts to his close proximity. I’m nearly buzzing, both with desire and with rage.
I hate that he does this. I hate that sometimes, I really am powerless around him.
What does this mean when we get on the battlefield? If he can easily get the best of me now, he can get the best of me then, too.
“You keep saying you don’t have a choice in all this,” I get out, “but Nereus didn’t make you lie about the maze. And he wasn’t up on that mountain, was he? You worked your magic and twisted me up all on your own. You’ve been playing your own game this entire time and I’m the stupid idiot who let you get away with it.”
I realize in this moment that it’s not Haven I’m actually mad at.
I’m angry at myself.
I might be powerful at the core, but I’m too weak at the surface. Naïve and gullible and fucking desperate for any morsel of love.
Haven had me played from the very beginning.
Except it isn’t victory or even amusement on his face. It’s confusion. “Your obliviousness continues to astound me, Hearthtender. Because if you had any clue at all you’d realize that I’m just as powerless when I’m wit
h you as I am with my brother.
“You think I want to fight you in that arena? You think this is what I planned all along?” He shoves away from me. Anger bristles in his gaze. “I wanted you gone the moment your name was chosen. Because the second you stood next to me on the stage, I couldn’t think straight.
“Everything about you knots me up inside.” He pounds a fist to his chest. “Every fucking thing. The way you smell, like honeysuckle and sugar. The way my chest tightens when I catch your scent and aches when it fades. The sound of your laugh. Your fucking laugh!” He leans forward and points at me angrily. “I hate your laugh! I hate the sound of it because it makes my stomach drop like I’m leaping over a fucking cliff. The way you bite your lip when you’re trying to hide that you’re scared and how I immediately want to protect you so you’ll stop doing it.”
He takes a breath. He’s visibly trembling now. “But you know what the worst of it is?” His eyes are glassy now. “The thing about you that drives me the craziest is that you don’t let me get away with anything. You don’t worship me like the rest of them do, and in some twisted way, that’s made me want to worship you instead.”
He shakes his head and steps back like he’s suddenly afraid of being too close to me.
“You’ve had it wrong, Hearthtender. The game is yours. It always has been.”
I’m speechless for once. My own frustration fizzles. If anything, I think I’m in shock. Did he really mean all of that? Haven isn’t one for showing vulnerability or weakness and all of those things he said…the things he admitted to feeling about me….
I’m a nobody. An orphan. Unclaimed and unwanted. Haven is Hades’s House royalty, a true descendant of the God of the Underworld, praised for just being, fawned over because of how hot he is, worshipped not despite of, but because of his razor edge and his relentlessness, and yet…I got beneath his skin? He wanted…me?
That can’t be possible. I, Ana Hearthtender, orphan of Hestia’s House, cannot possibly affect Haven Knightfall this way.
It must be another ploy. And it’s a good one. Because right now he looks like he’s on the verge of crying.
Vicious Champion (Games of the Gods Book 2) Page 14