Page 73 of Flame and Fury

“I thought you had shit to do. Can we get going?” Atlas says, his voice level and unaffected. His stoic nature makes me want to get him riled up, to poke at him until he snaps. I’m not sure what that says about me. Though it’s probably a good thing Atlas isn’t letting Hermes provoke him.

“As you command.” Hermes bows, twirling his hand in an exaggerated flourish. “Let’s all hug it out now.” Hermes opens his arms wide, like he’s waiting for us to walk into his embrace. Atlas shakes his head and slaps a hand on Hermes’s arm. He’s still holding on to my hand, so there’s no need for me to touch the god.

“Spoilsport.” Hermes huffs out before we’re transported from the rest stop. Whenever I’ve traveled like this before, it’s felt like my stomach was being yanked out through my mouth. Maybe it’s a power thing because being carried through the fabric of the universe by Hermes is more like a cool breeze blowing back my hair. It’s almost pleasant.

Wherever Hermes has taken us, it’s still dark. We’re standing on a neatly trimmed lawn in a neighborhood of struggling middle class homes. Middle class is a term loosely used. There aren’t many decent paying jobs out there. The elites have their businesses and trickle down what meager wealth they deign to provide to the little people. Many of these homes have been passed down from a previous generation. There’s no way the majority of society could afford to buy them these days.

It’s obvious that there hasn't been much upkeep over the years. Paint is chipping off siding, shutters are crooked and broken. There are no flowers decorating front stoops. Streetlights dot the cracked sidewalks, but at least every other light is burned out.

The exception is the house in front of us. It’s bland compared to the ostentatious houses we’ve been to during the games, but it’s more of a home than those places will ever be.

“Tell Ares he owes me one!” Hermes salutes us and then disappears.

A hiss and a whine at my feet have me jerking my head around. Did Hermes leave us in a field of snakes? The hiss sounds again, and a second later, water sprays over me and Atlas.

“What the hell?” I jump back, only to get hit in the back with another stream of water.

“Gods,” Atlas grumbles, keeping hold of my hand as he runs toward the driveway.

My clothing is soaked.Again. I’m getting pretty fucking tired of being damp.

“What was that?” I stare at the yard, seeing water all over the place.

“Sprinklers.” Atlas shakes his head.

“Someone is wasting water on grass?” I wipe drips of water off my forehead and flick my hand away.

“Not someone. Ares.” Atlas sighs as he leads us to the front door.

“Ares? Where are we? Did Hermes drop us off at some random person’s house?” I scan the neighborhood, searching for a reason why he would leave us here.

“Were you on my lawn?”

I spin around toward the front door. Ares fills nearly the entire doorway. Golden light spills out from behind him into the dark night.

“Blame Hermes. He says you owe him one, by the way.” Atlas steps forward to move inside. I follow behind him, still confused about where we are.

“The little shit should be glad I don’t call in all the favors he owes me.” Ares looks at us and tsks. “Take off your shoes. You’re a mess.”

“I’m sorry. Did you say your lawn? Is this your house?” I drop Atlas’s hand and work on my boots, taking them off and holding them in my hands. What does he want me to do with them?

Ares steps inside the house and motions for us to enter. “Drop your shoes there.” He points to a rug just to the right of the door. It has paw prints on it and sayswipe your paws.I drop my boots on the mat, and Atlas does the same.

“Did you kill someone and steal their house?” I stare, wide-eyed, at Ares.

He laughs and slaps me on the back so hard I would have stumbled forward if I hadn’t braced at the last minute.

“You’re funny, champion. Welcome to my humble palace.” Ares takes a few backward steps into a living room, his arms spread wide. “Actually, stay there.” He points at us and disappears down a hallway.

I lean forward and peer into a nice-sized living room. There’s a comfortable-looking couch and leather reclining chairs sitting on either side. They all face a huge television. Everything is dark, giving off a distinctly masculine vibe. The floors are a dark wood, with a large rug of swirling patterns of blacks and grays. I sort of feel like I’m the first woman who’s ever stepped foot in here. Separating the kitchen from the living room is a long island with stools tucked beneath.

Ares comes back down the hallway and tosses towels at me and Atlas. I dry off as best as possible and then wrap the towel around my shoulders. It’s hot outside, but this house has air conditioning and it’s cranked down so low that the tip of my nose is cold.

“Did you turn the sprinklers on as soon as they landed in your front yard?” Hades appears in the kitchen, holding a popsicle. He wasn’t there a moment before. Was he in the garage?

“Did I hit my head tonight? I mumble.

Hades is who I wanted to see, but Atlas didn’t mention that to Ares, so why is he here? Nothing about this night is turning out how I expected. Including this house. I’ve always pictured Ares in a huge war room with maps of the continents lining the walls. They would have little push pins indicating battles or something and show how each of the gods claimed their slice of the world. There would be a scale model of a war campaign built on a large table with tiny metal horses and soldiers being moved over mountains and through cities.

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