The Daughter of Zeus novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: No Lock

The guest hall has no lock and no exit; Hermes brings real food and a grin, Alekos tells the rules straight, and a hound the size of a horse looks in her window.

They put me in a house with no lock on the door.

I checked that first, before the bath and before the bed.

The door was white oak, as thick as my arm, and it had hinges and a handle and nothing else.

"The Xenia," Alekos said, from the terrace outside.

"It's the guest house. Guests don't get locked in."

"Funny," I said.

"I don't feel like a guest."

"No."

He stood at the far end of the terrace with his arms crossed, looking out over a sea of cloud.

He had not come inside once.

I went anyway, down a long hall, through a courtyard of silver olive trees and across a bridge over a pool.

It all led to a stair of white steps down toward a gate.

I took the stair, and I walked for ten minutes.

When I stopped to catch my breath, I was standing outside my own bedroom door again.

Alekos hadn't moved.

He gave me a mild look.

"The terraces loop," he said.

"Until the throne says otherwise, no one leaves."

"You could have told me that."

"You'd have wanted to see for yourself."

I opened my mouth to argue and found I couldn't.

He was right, and it annoyed me.

I went in, and I stood in a bath of warm water for a long time.

Somebody had left clothes folded on the bed.

A plain linen tunic and leggings, the color of oatmeal, in my exact size.

I put them on.

I put my canvas jacket on over them, because it was mine.

When I came back out, Alekos was sitting on the terrace wall.

He had a clean bandage around his forearm where I had cut him.

"I'm sorry about that," I said.

"The arm."

"Don't be."

"I mean it."

"So do I."

He almost smiled.

It was tiny, and it vanished at once.

"Sit," he said. "I'll tell you the rules."

I sat on the opposite wall, as far from him as it went.

"The Hunt is first," he said.

"It's the goddess of the hunt's maze, and it's alive. You go in, track a quarry and come out."

He paused.

"The war god will be in there with you."

"The war god."

"Hera's son. He is the Champion of her side of the Games."

"And he's on the other team."

"He's trying to kill you," Alekos said.

"Do not be on his team."

"What's the second one?"

"The Oath. At the Styx."

"And the third?"

"The Judgement." He paused.

"That one's up to the queen."

"And if I fail any of them?"

He looked at me, and for the first time his face showed something besides patience.

"Then the third dawn is yours to lose," he said, "and mine to carry out."

"You'd do it."

"I'd do what the law says."

I stared at him.

"Then why are you telling me how to win?"

"Because I haven't decided I'd do what the law says," he said.

Nobody had ever said anything like that to me.

I didn't know what to do with it.

Footsteps slapped up the terrace stairs, quick and light, and a voice said, "Tell me you didn't let her eat the grapes."

A thin young man bounced up the steps with a tray.

He had honey-colored curls, winged sandals that actually beat against his ankles, and a courier's satchel.

"I haven't," Alekos said.

"I haven't let her do anything."

"Brilliant, she'd be married to Hades by lunch."

He set the tray on the wall between us.

It held bread and cheese and cold roast chicken, and a bowl of something with salt and lemon.

I forgot to be polite.

I ate with both hands.

"I'm Hermes," the young man said.

He hopped up on the terrace wall, uninvited, and crossed his legs.

"Your brother. Half. I'm told that's awkward. I'm going to be extremely normal about it."

"Is that why you brought the chicken?"

"I brought the chicken because you looked like you were going to bite the furniture."

I laughed.

It surprised me so much that I choked, and Alekos pushed a cup of water across the wall without looking.

Hermes watched us both.

"Oh," he said, to nobody in particular.

"Oh, that's going to be a mess."

"What is?" I asked.

"Nothing. Eat."

When the sky went dark, Hermes left, whistling.

I stood in the doorway of my bedroom.

"You're sleeping on the terrace," I said.

"That's the custom for a second. I guard the door."

"No."

He blinked.

"I don't want a guard.

I don't want you across my door like a dog.

If you stay, it's because you choose to, not because somebody told you."

He thought about it for longer than I expected.

"I'll sleep out here," he said.

"By choice."

"Fine."

"Fine."

I closed the door.

Then I stood with my forehead against the wood, listening to my own breathing, and it was a long time before I slept.

Something woke me at midnight.

It was a low sound, a growl that vibrated the floor.

I sat up in the dark with my heart pounding.

At the window, filling every inch of it, was a black muzzle with white teeth.

A hound the size of a horse was looking in at me.

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