It’s a brilliant idea, going to Artemis. The Goddess of the hunt-slash-wilderness-slash-animals-slash-archery-slash-moon et cetera is the perfect person to ask for help. As if she senses his need, she raises her lovely, eternally youthful face and smiles at her favorite nephew across the field, waving him over.
Hector puts a hand on my elbow, shooting a frisson of hot energy through my arm straight to my heart. Pre-Thunderclap Kali would literally melt right now. Post-Thunderclap Hector knows this and is obviously not above using it against me. “I gotta run, but I’m going down the mountain later to take a cheesemaking class from the satyrs. Do you want to come?”
Hector doesn’t care about Olympian politics and has no problem being friends with immortals nowhere near the peak. As if it’s not hard enough to resist the guy.
I cock an eyebrow. “Are water nymphs going to crash this party just to worship at your feet again like they did during the watercolor class? That was not fun.”
“Hey,” he says, looking mock offended. “Can I help it if water nymphs are the most discerning of all nymphs?”
I purse my lips until all of the flirtatious remarks that spring to mind have been stuffed into the back of my head. “Regardless, I can’t come. But if you need a taste tester, I’m your girl.” My ears get hot. Stupid, treacherous lips.
“Always,” he says with a smile he seems to have made just for me. “I’ll see you later.”
I watch him cross the field, the back of his chiton both a relief and a regret. Artemis catches my eye and winks. She’s my favorite teacher—by far—and she’s always dreamed of something happening between Hector and me.
Get with the times, Artemis. Not gonna happen.
Cosmo calls me over to the aqua screen to review the particulars of my mismatch. I take the reversal arrow from him and back up to sit down on the stone QM steps. He plops down beside me while I expertly twirl the arrow. As Cosmo talks, I think about how kind he’s being, about how we’re outside instead of at his desk, and about how he brought everything to me so as not to risk having to report this to the Big Gs. I’m sure it’s Deya’s influence that prompted this undeserved kindness. I feel a tinge of guilt at just how much extra work I’ve given him of late.
I shake it off quickly, remembering I’m not the one to blame here. I’m the victim, for Gaia’s sake. We’re all victims of the Fates. Besides, with Deya hanging on Cosmo’s every word, at least this mismatch is working in his favor, for a change.
Deya is practically drooling as he reminds me of the reversal process. She lives for the job. She’s the best, most competitive Erote I know, and she consistently outperforms even the sixth-years. She’s never missed a match, but she’s had to wait longer than she’s wanted to for the perfect shot. Anything that makes her better understand her “calling” is right up her alley.
I love her, but it’s kind of annoying.
When they’re done, Deya fills her quiver and Cosmo turns to me. “Do you want to see any of my new arrows while you’re here? I just put the finishing touches on a self-guided arrow that your dad is already flipping over.”
“No thanks,” I tell him. “You know I’m a purist.”
“That’s why you’re Artemis’ favorite pupil,” Cosmo says.
Deya looks pointedly at Hector, who’s still talking with his aunt. “There may be other reasons at play there.”
“Shush,” I say. “Can I go reverse this already? I really want to get to Flagstaff before lunch.”
Deya’s mouth falls open. Gaia, is she ever dramatic. “Are you serious? You—the goddess of job hating—want to get back to work? Are you planning to match a band geek with the first bully you see? Or a vegan with, I don’t know, lunchmeat? I can’t believe they haven’t yanked your training wings yet.”
“The day is still young.”
She eyes me suspiciously. “I’m coming with you. Don’t even try to argue, or I’ll tell your dad.”
I glare, but I don’t fight her. I may not care about this job, but I do care about not getting Dad involved in this particular screwup . . . or my current ungrounded status. We say goodbye to Cosmo and wave to Hector and Artemis, then head away from the archery grounds and step onto a perfectly smooth stone pathway, surrounded by forests and gardens that would put Eden to shame. We pass amphitheaters created for the Games, theaters cut into hills, and tracks for races, all in ideal condition thanks to the Domestic Comfort department. Hestia, the ancient Goddess who heads the department, takes her job very seriously.
After all, around here, upsetting the boss can make your life Hades.
We wind around the path to the Port. Although we could technically disappear and reappear at will, Hermes and Zeus decided ages ago to track all transportation on and off the mountain. They bent the magic on Olympus to make the Port the only place an immortal can “jump” from, except the Ancients. The Big Gs.
Deya grabs my arm to slow me down.
“Seriously, Kal, you haven’t been in a rush to get back to a job since your Thunderclap.” I hate the way she emphasizes the word. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on. You say we need to reverse Beach Rat’s match, so we’re reversing it. That’s fine. I just want to get to Flagstaff and match Ben—”
Deya’s head cocks to the side. “You’ve named him?”
“Uh, no. I didn’t name him, his parents did.”
“But you’re referring to him by name. Don’t you think that’s a problem? You know what your dad always says about over-familiarity.”
“Do you really think my dad should be giving anyone lessons on Erote professional ethics?”
“Okay, okay,” Deya says in a placating voice. “So after five weeks of following ‘Ben,’ why are you suddenly ready to finish? I’ve had three jobs in the time it’s taken you to prepare for this one.”
“That’s not fair. You’re the top in our class, unchallenged.”
“And I’m also the most thorough, which only proves my point. Besides, we both know I’m only unchallenged because you stopped challenging me.”
“I’m still better at archery,” I taunt. She sends me a smiting glare. “What’s the point of caring like you do, Deya? The ones that break up, the ones that create problems, the ones that stick? It’s all up to the Fates!”
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