The night air has gained teeth since we were last outside. I shiver, part of me wishing I’d grabbed a coat, but the one Hades provided me doesn’t work with this outfit and I’ll only have one chance to make the impression I want to. Besides, it feels fitting that I fled to the lower city without a coat and return the same way.
Hermes glances at me. “Not far now.”
Two blocks away, we find a nondescript black sedan tucked between two buildings, an uncharacteristically serious Dionysus behind the wheel. Hermes takes the front seat, and I slide into the back. He looks at me in the rearview mirror and shakes his head. “Damn, looks like Hermes was right after all.”
“I’ll take my payment in cash.” She sounds like she’s just going through the motions of their banter, her mind on something a thousand miles away. “Let’s go.”
Panic gathers in my throat as we wind through the lower city and ease over Cypress Bridge. The pressure is lighter than before, barely noticeable. Because Hades invited me into the lower city. I shiver but resist the urge to wrap my arms around myself. My heart sinks as we leave the lower city behind. There’s no going back now. Maybe there never was.
I expect them to head west toward my mother’s penthouse, but they turn north instead. This is wrong. I lean forward between the front seats. “Where are we going?”
“I’m delivering you to your mother. She’s with the others in Dodona Tower.”
I’m on Hermes before she can move, my hand wrapped around her throat. “You tricked me.”
Dionysus doesn’t even slow down. He barely glances at us. “Don’t fight, children. I’d hate to have to turn this car around.”
Hermes rolls her eyes. “You’re the idiot who didn’t ask for more details. You offered a deal. Your mother took it. I just deliver the messages—and now the package. Sit back before you hurt yourself.”
Instead, I tighten my grip. “If this is a double cross…”
“What will you do, Persephone? Kill me?” Hermes gives a mirthless little laugh. “You can try.”
It mirrors something Hades said earlier. That Zeus will try to take me and crush the lower city. The first part of that is a nonissue because of my actions. It’s the latter I’m trying to avoid. Damn it, Hermes is right. I asked for this. I don’t get to threaten and posture because it’s not playing out exactly like I expected.
Even knowing that, it takes more control than I anticipate to unpeel my fingers from her skin and sit back. “I need him to survive this.” I don’t mean to say it. They might care about Hades, but they’re no friends to me. I can’t trust them.
Hermes finally looks at me. “You seem to have things well in hand.”
I can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic or not. I choose to take the words at face value and let them boost me when I desperately need it.
Around us, the streets quickly take on a glitzier look. Everything’s been renovated in the last few years, more evidence of the way the upper city cares so intensely about how things look and less about the content beneath. The businesses stay the same, the people working them the same, at least until they’ve been priced out. How many of them end up in the lower city? I’m so ashamed of myself for keeping my gaze on the horizon when there were things I should be noticing all around me.
Dionysus pulls up in front of Dodona Tower and stops. When I look at Hermes, she shrugs. “I was only joking about delivering packages. You made this deal, so you should walk in there under your own power. You were right before—perception matters.”
“I know,” I say faintly. I don’t apologize for attacking her, though. She’s not on anyone’s side but her own, and while I understand, I can’t help but hold it against her. Hades could use allies right now, and when he’s in his hour of need, she and Dionysus have abandoned him. From the outside, it might look like I’ve done the same, but everything I did from the moment I sent Hermes with a message to my mother is for him.
I get out of the car and gaze up at the skyscraper in front of me, taller than any of the buildings around it, as if Zeus needs this physical demonstration of his might to remind everyone in the city of what he can do. I find my upper lip curling. Pathetic. He’s a child, ready to throw a tantrum and cause untold destruction if he doesn’t get his way.
The very last thing I want to do is face him and his shining crowd of flunkies after everything that’s happened, but this is what I asked for. This is the price I’m willing to pay to avert war. I can’t afford to balk before I even step onto the battlefield.