Page 56 of Gates of Tartarus

“Oh God! No! Why?!?” I say immediately, covering my face and leaning back. “Christ on a cracker! What did I ever do to you? I thought we were friends!” I moan, fanning my hands in front of me, the strange smell lingering on my palate.

“Ooooookay,” he says, laughing, “not lemon verbena.”

“What the hell?”

“We’re gonna find some smells that help ground you,” he explains, extremely unhelpfully. “This one’s peppermint mocha…” He waves the bag in front of me alluringly, and I look at it dubiously.

“I do like peppermint mochas…” I say slowly and take the bag, sniffing reluctantly. “Christ! No! Fuck! What the actual... Why are you doing this to me?”

Jonah is giggling at this point, wheezing slightly. “It wasn’t that bad!” he says, wiping his eyes.

“I’m not doing this anymore,” I grumble.

“Try this one,” he says placatingly. “I’m sure it will be better.”

Shooting him a suspicious look, I push his hand and the bag away from me. “No way. Are you filming this? Is this, like, funny for some reason? What’s next? Skunk or something?”

Shaking his head, he flashes his devastating grin at me. “Please?” he asks entreatingly. “It’s important. Or, I think itcould beimportant, anyways. This one’s called ‘Autumn Wreath’.”

I roll my eyes and huff out a loud breath. “Fine. For you. But that’s theonlyreason.” Grabbing the offered bag, I steel myself but am pleasantly surprised when a warm, homey smell wraps around me. It’s what I imagine childhood Thanksgivings smell like, and my throat inexorably tightens. I move to smell it again, chasing the strange feeling, but Jonah grabs the bag away, frowning.

“That one made you sad.” He looks at the offending bag and dumps it in the trash near him.

“It made me homesick,” I correct quietly. “Just... homesick for something that never existed, if that makes sense.”

“Let’s stop,” he says suddenly. “This isn’t going the way I thought it would.” He stares at the bags in front of him with a mix of something between anger and disappointment. “I did so much research…” he sighs under his breath. I’m sure he didn’t mean for me to hear him, it was so quiet it was almost a thought rather than a spoken word, but there’s something in his tone that makes me want to try again.

“Hey now! Chin up, Chipmunk!” I say, voice weirdly jovial, like a broadcaster on a sports network or something. “Let’s keep going! Ever onwards and all that.”

Jonah looks at me, eyebrows raised. “Uh... you okay there, Kai?”

Waving my hand in front of me, I brush away the question and grab a bag. Opening it, I inhale, and the warm, spiced scent of cinnamon and clove hits me. “Ooooo!” I exclaim happily. “This one smells like Christmas!” Inhaling again, I smile. “Whatisthis? I love this!”

“Cinnamon Bear. It’s a Scentsy thing?”

“You... uh… you do Scentsy?” I reply, trying very hard to contain my smile, and he shrugs, blushing a little.

“My cousin sells it.” My smile breaks through, and he bristles slightly, like a hedgehog. “What? It smells good…” he says defensively, and I laugh.

“Do you have, like, all the decorative warmers and stuff?” I tease gently, and he tugs on one of my braids cautiously.

“Smell the next one, you infuriating woman.”

The next is sharp, stinging citrus that rushes straight to my brain. It’s like taking a shot of espresso. It clears my mind instantly, the opposite of sinking into meditation.

“Grapefruit?” I ask hesitantly, and he nods.

“How was that one?”

“That was perfect!” I say, excitement creeping into my voice.

Jonah nods in satisfaction. “Right. How about this one?”

Wrinkling my nose, I frown. “Too... I don’t know. Florally?”

“This one?”

“Oof!” Eyes watering, I pull back. “Yeah. Ow. It works, but it burns.”

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