What is a beautiful, selfish woman like Calypso compared to all that history?
The thought feels strangely like a betrayal, but I shove that awful sensation down deep. I wavered before and look what happened. I can’t afford to do it again. I know where Calypso is going; she practically invited me to chase her. Granted, she had a different outcome in mind, but I’ll do what I have to.
And if watching the life fade from her pretty eyes tips me over the edge?
Well, that’s the price I’ll pay for safety.
CHAPTER 5
CALYPSO
Olympus is a city that loves its legends. I can’t speak for other cities, but here they seem to have more than a grain of truth. Cold wind whips my hair around my face as I approach the middle of three bridges that cross the River Styx. The Cypress Bridge looks like something from outside time, its marble pillars stretching high overhead.
My only chance at survival lays on the other side.
I shouldn’t have baited Medusa. Honestly, I shouldn’t have left her alive, but while I’ve committed many sins, murder is not among them. I couldn’t start with her. She’d looked so put out and shocked as I propped her up, and I hadn’t been able to stop myself from looking my fill. Her muscles are even more impressive to see than they were to feel, her tight black shirt clinging to well-defined shoulders and biceps. If the fit of her pants was any indication, her thighs are downright bitable. And her face…
She’s right. She wasn’t traditionally beautiful, even before something happened that left her marked with jagged scars. Not pretty or cute or any of those lesser adjectives. When I looked at her face, the only word I could think of was strong.
I can appreciate strength, even if Olympus can’t.
Unfortunately, she’s not for me. Athena has her leashed too tightly and the same honor that made Medusa hesitate to harm me is the thing that will keep her from shucking off Athena’s shackles and coming to me.
What would I even do with an assassin that, if I don’t miss my guess, has big himbo energy?
The thought brings a smile to my lips, but the cold whisks it away. I’m stalling, and I can’t afford to. I wasted too much time draining Odysseus’s accounts, and I’ve lost my lead as a result. I can’t wait any longer.
The first step onto the bridge almost convinces me that the tales are bullshit, but the second step brings the pressure. It doesn’t hurt exactly, but the farther I get from the bank of the upper city, the greater my desire to turn around and run to escape the sensation of being squeezed like a lemon. I will not be deterred. I duck my head and pick up my pace, reaching the midway point in short order.
That’s when the pain begins.
It starts in the soles of my feet, sharp little pinpricks that feel like I’m walking barefoot over glass. My exhales sob out, but I press forward. I’m almost there. If I can reach the lower city, all sources say that I’ll be beyond the Thirteen’s influence. I’ll be safe for the first time in my life and have the resources to ensure that safety is protected. I can have a life of my choosing.
That determination gets me to within ten feet of the end of the bridge.
That’s when I see the man. He’s wearing a thick black coat with a hood, but I catch sight of his face as he stares at me. He’s a white man with a truly impressive square chin, and broad enough shoulders to give Medusa a run for her money.
I stop short, squinting against the darkness and his hood hiding most of his face. “Hello?”
“Go back.”
Yeah, not likely. I hesitate, mentally flipping through my options before deciding on the truth. “I can’t. If I don’t make it to the lower city, I’ll be killed.”
“Why?”
It’s hard to concentrate past the pain radiating up my legs, but I give it my best shot. I have a feeling that if this man turns me away, I won’t get another chance. I don’t know who he is or what gives me that impression, but my instincts have gotten me this far, so I’m not about to question them. “Athena and Zeus want me dead because one of their favorites was too cowardly to dump me as his mistress.”
“If you’re lying, there will be consequences.”
“I’m not.”
He nods briefly and steps back. “Come on, then. You’ve made it this far, you can make it ten more feet.”
The pain becomes agonizing, but I’m not about to fail this strange test. The moment I step off the bridge, it disappears as if it never existed. I glance back, but the bridge appears just as unassuming as it did before. “Quite the welcome.”