I glance down at Cassandra. The faint line is back between her brows. She looks more worried than she has since we arrived. What did Hermes say to her to put that look on her face? “Time to head to the third floor?”
“Yes, this will be our best chance to check out the family rooms.”
“Right.” I’m starting to wonder if there’s anything here to find at all.
Or if we’re actually playing right into Minos’s hands.
20
Apollo
The hallway of the second floor is empty. There’s no telling if Eurydice and Charon have split up or ducked into one of the sitting rooms to hide; there are enough of them that they might be a good option if the goal was truly to hide from Theseus. Better for us if that’s their plan. I have no desire to have to explain why we’re intentionally aiming for our host’s private bedroom when there are plenty of good alternatives.
Cassandra waits till we turn the corner to pull her hand out of mine. “Let’s hurry. Minos seems the type to cheat, so it’s entirely possible that Theseus will head straight for us.”
I don’t argue, but I don’t like the way she won’t quite look at me. “What did Hermes say?”
“We’ll talk about it later.” She must catch the way I almost miss a step, because she exhales in a huff. “It’s not new information, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s just…odd. This whole thing isodd.”
There’s no arguing that. It’s not just the games or the underlying threat that seems to become more blatant as time passes. Participate or be banished from the house. Watch out for danger on the grounds. Don’t wander at night or something unfortunate might happen.
But to what end?
I slow, but Cassandra picks up the pace, tugging me along behind her. “If we’re lucky, Theseus isn’t cheating and will also cover the grounds first, but I would rather not bet on us being lucky. We don’t have time to waste.”
She’s right. We hurry down the hallway past the guest bedrooms. This section of the second floor looks much the same as the rest, the grand hallway studded by doors at regular intervals. We’d have to check to be sure, but the number of rooms matches the number of guests, and everyone at the party seems to be staying on the second floor. “Hermes is one person. What could she possibly need with a home this large?” Best I can tell, she wasn’t entertaining out here. Or if she was, the parties were so exclusive that no one spoke about them afterward. With how Olympus considers gossip an elite sport, I’m inclined to think the former is the truth.
“You’ll have to ask her. I didn’t even know this place existed.” She’s frowning harder. “I don’t understand why no one is blinking attwomissing people. Or at least one missing person. We can’t verify that Tyche actually made it to the party, but Atalantawashere.”
I squeeze her hand. “Everyone is here for their own reasons.”
“And it’s not the Thirteen in danger, so why bother to question it.” Bitterness coats her words, and the worst part is that I can’t argue with her. I’m not entirely sure of everyone’s motivations, but there’s a feeling of being untouchable that comes after you’ve held the title for a few years. Hephaestus said it himself.
That doesn’t explain why Hermes and Artemis are okay with losing their plus-ones.
We finally find the staircase to the third floor tucked back into a relatively unassuming alcove. It gives the feeling of a haunted Victorian mansion with its narrow walls that almost feel like they lean in over a person. I can’t tell if they’re actually at an angle or if it’s just a clever paint job, but I have to fight not to hunch my shoulders. The top landing is encased in darkness, a trick considering there’s a stained-glass window there overlooking the backyard. It must be the fact that the walls are painted a deep green that seems to encourage an overactive imagination.
“Hermes certainly has a flare for the dramatic,” I manage as we hurry up the stairs.
“Yeah,” Cassandra says shortly. “She does.”
On the third floor, the hallway looks very much the same as the second floor: broad space, thick carpet on the floors, the walls lined with more doors than are reasonable.
Cassandra once again pulls her hand from mine, and this time I allow it. We might be searching together, but it isn’t a reasonable ask to maintain my hold on her the whole time, no matter how comforting I find it. “You take left, I take right?”
“That works for me.”
The doors are locked. Of course they’re locked. I glance across the hallway at Cassandra as she rattles another doorknob. “I don’t suppose you’re adept at lock picking.”
“Why would I be adept at lock picking, Apollo? That’s not a skill set that people have tucked up their sleeves outside fiction.”
“You did date Hermes.”
Cassandra eyes me, expression guarded. “I knew you were going to be weird about that.”
“I’m not being weird about it.”
“You are most assuredly being weird about it.” She huffs out a breath. “Lock picking?Please. You have a propensity for kicking down doors. Go for it.” She motions to the door behind her. “Besides, you’re the spymaster. If one of us should be good at lock picking, it’s you.”