She gives Cassandra a long look that seems to be a promise to speak later but allows her date to guide her to the stairs and away. I don’t quite breathe a sigh of relief when they’re gone, not when this thorny interaction will be the first of many. “I didn’t realize you and Aphrodite are friends.”
“Oh, we’re not.” Cassandra finally looks back at me. “But we get along just fine. I like watching her leave chaos in her wake. She enjoys the way I snap and how my presence at her sister’s parties stirs the pot with the other guests.”
I don’t understand that. Parties in general are hardly my favorite thing, though they’re rife with information so I can’t afford to skip them often. But Cassandra can, and what she just described almost sounds like they set her up like a carnival attraction. I don’t like it. “If you say so.”
“I do.” She turns to Pan. This time, her smile is much warmer. “It’s nice seeing you again.”
“The feeling is entirely mutual.” He hefts his bag over his shoulder. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
As we turn and head for the back of the house, it strikes me that I don’t know as much about Cassandra as I thought. It seems like every time I turn around, she’s revealing a new angle, a new piece of information. It’s disconcerting…and addicting.
I can’t wait to see what she shows me next.
11
Cassandra
Minos has invited quite the eclectic mix of people. I sip my wine and study them situated around the long banquet table. Minos sits at the head of it, his foster sons Theseus and the Minotaur on either side. It’s interesting that he’s blocked himself off from his guests, but he obviously has a plan. His two children, Ariadne and Icarus, are here of course, practiced smiles in place. The last member of his people, though not of his family, is a plus-sized woman with light-brown skin and luxurious wavy black hair who sits next to Theseus and has a delightfully loud laugh that carries all the way down the table. I don’t know what she’s laughing at, because it’s certainly not somethingTheseusis saying.
There aresixmembers of the Thirteen here, most with plus-ones. Apollo, of course, sitting on my right. We saw Hermes, Dionysus, and Aphrodite earlier. But he’s also invited Hephaestus and Artemis. They’re cousins, both from legacy families, and both very much not on board with some of the waves the new Zeus has been making. If I were going to try to drive a wedge into the Thirteen, they’re where I’d start. The foundation is already there.
But then why invite the others? Hermes plays her own games, and she always has. Aphrodite might like starting shit, but she’s never going to side against her brother. I still don’t quite understand Apollo and Zeus’s relationship, but he wants what’s best for Olympus and right now he feels that Zeus is the way to that.
Then there are the true surprises.
I glance to the group clustered at the end of the table around Minos’s son. Pan and Adonis chat easily with a third person I recognize from school. Atalanta is an athletic Black woman with a scarred face and locs spilling down around her shoulders. Plus-ones for Dionysus, Aphrodite, and Artemis, respectively. If everyone is bringing dates or friends, I suppose that’s not outside the realm of expectation.
But the gorgeous woman with light-brown skin and long, dark hair and the handsome white man with their heads close together across the table from him?ThemI did not anticipate. Eurydice Dimitriou and Charon Ariti. Best guess, they’re here representing Demeter’s and Hades’s interests, respectively, but I can’t believe either Persephone or Demeter agreed to allow Eurydice into what could potentially be a dangerous event. They’ve worked hard to keep her as sheltered as someone can be in Olympus.
I ignore the flicker of jealousy the thought brings. Demeter might be a political monster, but no one with the tiniest bit of intelligence doubts that she loves her daughters. It’s a different kind of love than most people experience, perhaps, but it’s there all the same.
Apollo shifts closer and my foolish heart picks up as he leans down and speaks directly into my ear. “Eurydice is a surprise.”
“I was just thinking the same thing.”
“I need to speak with her.”
That strange flicker of jealousy threatens to ignite, but I do my best to dowse it. If Apollo is interested in Eurydice, it’s not my business. In another week, I won’t even be in the city.
I nod. “She’s a wild card.” The others, I can hazard guesses as to why they’d be present, though I’ll need a little time to fine-tune those suppositions. There areseveralpowerful people heavily invested in keeping Eurydice tucked away from the rest of Olympus. Her being here doesn’t make sense.
The problem with having a table full of this many people is that Minos and his foster sons might as well be in a different room. I can’t hear anything they’re saying. Ariadne on my other side is entirely wrapped up in some story Hermes and Dionysus weave across the table from us. I catch something about a scooter chase, but I’m not sure I need to hear more. Hermes and Dionysus might play jesters in public, but they’re too smart to give away any kind of information without intending to.
Still… Can’t hurt to try. We didn’t manage to find the security room in our predinner explorations, though we did map out a portion of the downstairs floor plan.
Dionysus laughs uproariously as Hermes wraps up the story. I wait a beat and then lean forward, all interest and intent. “Is it true this used to be your house, Hermes?”
“Guilty as charged.” Her smile warms several degrees when she looks at me. It was that warmth that first attracted me to her. So much about her is farce, but when she enjoys a person’s company, she doesn’t pretend otherwise. “But I’m a city creature right down to my soul. It’s a shame to let such a lovely place waste away beneath dust and sheets, so when our friend Minos mentioned he was interested in purchasing a home, I offered mine up.”
Our friend Minos.
I have to fight not to narrow my eyes. There’s a bit of an ironic lilt to those words. There’s absolutely no way that Hermes considers Minos a friend; he’s far too similar to the last Zeus, and I’m intimately acquainted on her thoughts abouthim.
My voice comes out too sharp. “I would have thought a house owned by the vaunted Hermes would be less mundane.”
Dionysus coughs into his cloth napkin, almost managing to cover up his laugh. “She called youmundane, love. Fighting words if I ever heard them.”
“Cassandra does love a fight.” The warmth on Hermes’s face doesn’t fade, though her expression goes crafty in a way that used to thrill me. It usually meant a whole lot of fun or pleasure in the future—often both. Now it just makes me wonder what she’s hiding.