I swallow. Here’s the part where I could unload everything—but how could I do that to her? And tonight, when we’re supposed to be having fun, of all nights?
But then I remember that Kronos threatened not only me—but her. How can I do that to her? I won’t.
So I lie. “I’m fine. Just a little nervous for this surprise.”
She nods, accepting the lie, and loops her arm through mine on our way down the block. She brought her car with her, and we pile into it. It’s an old, beat-up Subaru that has probably seen four different owners before her. Still, it runs, and that’s good enough for us.
She takes us past SFU’s campus, through the downtown section that marks a neutral territory for the gangs, and up into the hills. The road narrows, but she seems unbothered. This road seemed a lot less treacherous when I was stuck in the backseat of the old cab. In Marley’s little car, going at the speed of light… I slip my hand around the door handle and squeeze the life out of it.
“Have you been where we’re going?” I almost say Olympus and ruin my own lie.
“Last year,” she admits. “Janet asked if I wanted to go with her a few times… I’m sorry. It was kind of shitty being here and making new friends on my own.”
I can’t expect my best friend to only hang out with me. Besides, we never thought I’d be able to join her. Attending the same university together was a dream we let go of long before high school even rolled around.
She got back to Sterling Falls a few weeks ago to find me… well, drowning.
Things got better when she showed up, but there was no way I was dumping everything on her. How I had managed to make so many mistakes within three months of arriving, I don’t know.
And then something occurs to me. “Do we need to pay for tickets?”
She glances over and immediately picks up on my worry. She knows money is tight, at least. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you. I can spot you this time.”
I let out a sigh. Financial struggles aren’t new to me. But calculating every last move I make, down to the penny, has taken some getting used to. It’s made worse by offers from Marley to cover me for certain things.
Things I should’ve been able to afford if I had that job, and that scholarship, and that life that got whisked away from me.
I’m holding things together by threads.
The hills suddenly even out, and she slows. There’s a line of cars ahead of us, all heading for the same place: the sprawling marble building called Olympus. It’s a silver-and-shadow beast that sits on the slight rise. The marble columns in front are as impressive as I remember. This time, though, the front doors are open. A golden glow emanates from within, and light leaks out onto the main yard.
The effect is rather magical.
We turn onto the property and find a parking space. I take a deep breath and stare at Olympus.
This time is going to be different.
I’ll actually get to go inside, for one. And I have Marley.
Even if I do see them—which, I suppose I need to see them in order to steal Hades’ mask—I look different. The red hair, the septum ring. I’ve lost weight, on top of that. My curves have disappeared.
Marley gestures to the flower mask in my lap.
I tie it on and flip down the mirror. The mask goes, in an odd, bold sort of way, with my dark lipstick, hair, and the white dress. It’s a statement—although I’m not sure what sort of statement I want to be making.
Marley hasn’t pointed out the out-of-place cuff on my wrist, either.
The weather is warm for early September, but something about the atmosphere elicits a shiver up my spine. I glance over my shoulder toward the woods, then quickly straighten. I never found out what actually happens in Olympus. Besides the attire. I didn’t ask after my first, terrible attempt.
We join the crowd that’s heading up to the mansion. A man in a black raven mask stands at the door, collecting cash. A raven mask, I note. Last time it was a boar. I wonder if they’re different employees or just… different masks.
Marley elbows me. “I got you, remember?”
I nod and bite my cheek. Having someone else pay for me just stacks guilt on my shoulders, but I try not to let it dampen my already iffy mood. “I’ll pay you back.”
The line inches forward. I crane my neck to see inside, but the angle is wrong. All I can see is one of the doors swung inward. The carvings are more apparent, and I want to get up close to run my fingers over them.
I had missed the crowd before. This time, we’re surrounded by similarly styled people.
Everyone wears masks, and they’re in various degrees of fancy. Some men and women are in formal wear—long dresses and tuxedos—and others just have open-collared shirts, skirts, and cropped shirts. I can’t get a handle on how we’re supposed to be dressed.
Marley and I have landed somewhere in the middle.
We finally get up to the front, and the raven-masked man stares at us for a beat.
My best friend opens her purse and pulls out two bills, but oddly, the man’s dark eyes bore into mine. I squint at him, trying to see if I recognize him as the smoker who stopped me three months ago.
That’s ridiculous, though. I can’t tell if it’s him any more than he would recognize me.
I’ve noticed that the unimportant details of that day have smudged in my mind. Like how many minutes I was late, or which column the man leaned against. The vivid things, I can’t get rid of. And oh, how I wish I could.
“No charge.” His voice is rasping and unassuming.
Yet, the chills return.
Marley has no such trepidation. She calls a cheery thanks to him and drags me inside.
I cast a quick glance at the door and make out a curving wreath of leaves at eye level. And then we’re in.
I should’ve suspected something grand from the size of the door. But I had no idea this awaited us. We stride through a large atrium. There is a staircase directly ahead of us that goes up to a landing then splits in two. The second floor, high above our heads, has open railings to overlook the atrium and staircase.
Marble pillars line the sides of the atrium, hiding shadowed alcoves. It continues on either side of the staircase, and arched doorways lead farther in.
It feels a bit like choosing between Heaven and Hell.
Built into the wall over the staircase landing is a statue. It might’ve at one point been marble, too, but it now drips with black and gold. The immobile man has a distinctly ethereal appearance, and his golden crown sparks off the light.
“Drink,” Marley says, shoving a flask into my hand. “It’ll help you stop twitching so much.”
I still. The last thing I need is to go into this with dulled senses. But I can’t deny that every brush of another body has me flinching. It’s a combination of Kronos and my past, balled up into one. Men who seemed kind at first but quickly proved my instincts wrong.
My judgement is off.
But I do trust my best friend, so I twist off the cap and take a big swallow. The gin, her drink of choice since we were teenagers, leaves a distinctly pine taste in my mouth. I grimace and shove it back at her.
She chuckles under her breath.
“I don’t understand the point of this.” It seems no one is leaving this room, and some people are acting like no one else is around them. A few stand in clusters, chatting with who I have to assume are friends, and others stand alone. We’re all so close, though, that it doesn’t really matter.