Page 46 of Deadly Games
I hesitated, tempted to respond in the negative. My instincts told another story. “The Underworld, I think,” I said, looking between them. “Both of them.”
Loki nodded, as if the news wasn’t remotely surprising. “They wouldn’t have gone without telling us if something wasn’t wrong.”
Before long, we were all dressed, but I still felt like I couldn’t move fast enough. I went for the door, pausing when Dionysus called my name. I looked back at him in confusion.
“We need a plan before we just waltz up to the portal,” he reasoned. “Heimdall would never let us through.”
“He has a point,” Loki mused. “Even I’m not permitted to visit unless I’m with Hades.”
“Shit,” I muttered. They were right, of course. I just hadn’t been thinking clearly in my panic.
“Can’t you shift?” Dionysus asked, turning to Loki.
“Right,” he said dryly. “Heimdall’s never seen that trick before.”
Dionysus rolled his eyes. “I don’t see you coming up with any better plan.”
And just like that, they were back to bickering like an old married couple. Some things never changed. “I have an idea,” I said, reaching for the rumpled card in my jeans pocket. It was a little bent, but the sigil was still legible.
Loki leaned over my shoulder to inspect the card. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Hermes paid me a visit,” I admitted. “He said to call him if I ever needed help.”
“No offense, but why would he care about you?” Loki asked.
It was a fair question, and I wasn’t thrilled about the answer. “He’s the one who told me Ares was my father. Call it nepotism.”
“Ah. I know it well,” Loki chuckled. “If anyone can get us past the bridge, it’s probably him, but are you sure you can trust him not to turn us in?”
“I don’t think he’s overly loyal to Cronus,” I answered. “Besides, it’s not like we have many options. The only problem is, I don’t know how I’m supposed to use this.”
“It’s a summoning sigil, so it activates with blood,” Dionysus said, shrugging at the looks we were giving him. “What, am I theonlyone who pays attention in Alchemy?”
Loki snorted. “Nerd.”
Dionysus flipped him off. “Anyone have a knife?”
“No, but I’ve got one better,” I said, forming a small vine in my palm. I pricked my finger on one of the thorns and wiped it on the sigil. “Like this?”
Before Dionysus had the chance to respond, blinding light filled the room. When it dissipated, Hermes was standing before us in a pristine white suit fit for Sunday morning--or collecting souls, which seemed more likely.
“Well, well,” he said, folding both hands over his glossy black cane. “If it isn’t the talk of the town. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Is that offer for a favor still good?” I asked hopefully. Dionysus was staring at him in disbelief, and even Loki seemed a bit starstruck.
“Of course. I am a man of my word,” Hermes said, giving me a curious once over. “But before I help, answer me this. This favor wouldn’t happen to be aiding and abetting the commission of treason and chaos, would it?”
I winced. Lying to Hermes seemed like the only thing more dangerous than telling him the truth. “Kind of…?”
“Marvelous,” he said with a short bow. “In that case, I’m at your disposal.”
Dionysus blinked. “We need to get past Heimdall to go to the Underworld.”
“Ah. Tricky, indeed,” Hermes mused, pressing a nimble finger to his lips in consideration. “I’m afraid that’s quite impossible. There are only a few allowed passage through that portal, and Heimdall is too sharp for even my arsenal of subterfuge.”
“So much for that,” Loki muttered.
“I didn’t say I couldn’t help,” Hermes snipped. “They don’t call me the Messenger of the Gods for nothing.”
