Stone Heart (Dark Olympus 2.50)

I want her with me, to chase this thing between us until we figure out the full shape of it. But, even more than that, I can see how the jobs she does for Athena are leeching away her life. It’s not the same kind of thing that I witnessed growing up with my parents, but it’s close enough that I recognize it in the way she carries herself, how she speaks, how desperate she is to ensure I make it out of this alive.

She’s done her part. She spared me back in my apartment and again here. Her plan might not be one I intend to follow through on, but it is a plan.

I am fully committed to meeting her halfway and doing whatever it takes to ensure she doesn’t feel like her only option is going back to Athena.

I leave her in my new bed, her big body sprawled out with a carelessness that warms my heart. No matter what she thinks, there is a strange sort of innocence to her. Or maybe not innocence. Maybe it’s a purity of character. I can’t quite define it, but it draws me all the same. She just so fucking honest.

Charon’s card is in the back pocket of my jeans and I stare at it for a long time. It’s not in my nature to trust. If my life has taught me anything, it’s that everyone has an agenda, and those with power are only too happy to use it to get what they want—even if it means stepping on those below them. Maybe even especially then.

He didn’t ask for anything when he gave me this card, or when he led me to this apartment building. I’m not quite willing to believe he did it out of the goodness of his soul, but even only being in the lower city a few hours, I get the impression that there’s something different here than in the upper city.

Asking Charon for help is a risk. He might name a price that is too high.

I grip the card until its edges imprint on the pads of my fingers and look back at Medusa. There’s no escaping this life. Even if I left Olympus—if I convinced her to come with me—I don’t imagine the greater world is somehow kinder than what we have here. It’s simply different.

Better to deal with things here and now, instead of wishing on a shooting star.

I take a breath, hold it for five seconds, and release it slowly. When I dial the phone sitting on the dresser, I feel slightly more like my old self again. I can do charming. I can do whatever’s required to secure our safety, even if I lose the fledgling fantasy of a future with Medusa in the process. It’s worth it if she’s safe, if she’s free. If we both are.

Charon answers on the second ring, his voice heavy with sleep. “Yeah?”

“You’re not the one in charge of the lower city.”

A pause. When he speaks again, he sounds alert and suspicious. “Did you call me in the middle of the night to tell me something I already know?”

“No.” I take a deep breath, cast one last look at Medusa, and gamble everything. “I thought crossing the river would be enough to deter my pursuers. It wasn’t. I need help.”

Another pause, longer this time. “Tonight?”

I refuse to give up even a moment with Medusa if I don’t have to. “The morning is soon enough.”

“I’ll be there at eight.” He hesitates. “I can’t guarantee anything, but I can get you in front of someone who can help. After that, it’s up to you.”

Someone who can help.

The leader of the lower city.

It seems that tomorrow, a mystery will be solved, though I can find no joy in the discovery. It’s not just the strange boundary that lines the River Styx that keeps people—and the Thirteen, in particular—out of the lower city. It would take a strong leader; someone like the last Hades and his lineage that stretched back to the founding of Olympus, the same as the other members of the Thirteen.

But Hades is dead and gone.

“Thank you,” I manage.

“Don’t thank me. I haven’t done anything yet.” He hangs up before I can argue.

Tomorrow, I’ll consider that Charon thinks several rather large acts of kindness to be nothing. He might be trying to manipulate me, but I don’t think so. I think this is genuine, though I can’t begin to guess what that means.

I use the bathroom, grab a quick drink of water, and then slip back into bed. Medusa murmurs in her sleep and turns without opening her eyes to wrap an arm around my waist and tug me back to be little spoon to her big spoon. She sighs in utter contentment, and that soft feeling in my chest expands in a truly worrisome way.