Page 16 of The Fifth Gate

I take a few steps before spinning back around to pace the other way. I need to burn off some of the energy roiling around in my veins or I’m going to scream.

I can’t believe he thinks I would do that to him! Manipulate him like that. Especially after watching the fallout of Aphrodite’s pranks and pettiness. I’ve seen lives ruined, whole families torn apart, and I’ve only been around for the last couple of centuries. She wasn’t even in her heyday for those.

And the worst part? The absolute worst, most ridiculous part? There’s actually a little sliver of hurt wedged up behind my ribs that the bastard would think so little of me. And isn’t that just the dumbest freaking thing in the world? He doesn’t even know me! So how in the world would he know what I’m actually like—that I have absolutely nothing in common with Aphrodite with the exception of my face.

I was kind of used to people not thinking much of me, thanks to Mother’s curse. But, somehow, in spite of everything, I still felt drawn to Ares. Maybe because I feel for him? Because I understand why he so badly wants out of his predicament? Because I recognize the fact that in this instance, Mother is the perpetrator, not the victim?

I don’t know what the reason is, but ever since Ares visited me in a dream in Chaena’s ice labyrinth, I felt drawn to him. I hate what he did to Janie, yes, but I also hate what had been done to him.

Even so, it still pisses me off that I kissed him back. Not just that, but if he hadn’t pushed me away, I very well might have done more. I’d been one tongue curl from climbing his body like the Matterhorn, if I was being totally honest with myself, and if you can’t be honest with yourself, then what’s the point?

And then comes the guilt, which manages to smother everything else. I can’t believe I kissed Ares. I mean, he kissed me technically, but I did definitely, completely, one-hundred-percent kiss him back. And that begs the question: what about Adonis?

Adonis, who’s waiting for me in Morevna’s garden. Adonis who’s been by my side every step of the way through Hell. Adonis, who threw his lot in with mine, who trusted me, who did everything he could to protect me and see me succeed, and I just let the first psycho god I stumble across pin me against the wall?

Oh, Gods, I’m a horrible person.

I scrub the back of my hand over my mouth, like that’s going to make anything better. What is wrong with me? My emotions are all over the place, but I need to pull them together, pull myself together. I don’t have time for distractions. Once I’ve rescued Janie, and gotten her back home, then I’ll have a chance to have a nice nervous breakdown.

I’ll be sure to put it in my schedule.

I let myself sit on the edge of the bed, and slump forward with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands.

There’s a sudden chill feeling, like cool mist pooling beside me, and Rhiannon lays a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I mumble into my hands.

“These are difficult times.” Her voice is low and sweet. Soothing, in its way. “It’s not unusual for people to have… extreme reactions, especially when pushed to the breaking point.”

It’s nice of her to say it, even if I don’t buy it.

“Penelope,” she says. “I can’t know your struggle. But you must find a way out of here. To find Arawn, or to find your sister, whatever you choose. But you cannot remain here. That man is volatile, dangerous. He could hurt you, and I don’t want to see that happen.”

She’s right. The pity party will have to be rescheduled for another time, because I’m on the clock. I take a deep breath then, scrub my hands over my face and stand. “Okay. You’re right. I need out of this room. But unless Ares forgot to lock the door behind him, I’m not really sure how I’m going to manage it.”

Rhiannon chews her lower lip, and tugs lightly on the end of her braid with both hands. “You are a daughter of gods. Can you not use magic?”

“Sure,” I admit on a shrug. “And the second I do, it will be like setting off a flare right in front of Ares’s nose. He’ll know the instant I let myself out of this room, and he’ll be on me before I make it three steps down the hallway. This isn’t the nicest hotel I’ve ever stayed in, but I’m not sure I’d want to see what the next place he’d stash me looks like,” I add with a wry twist to my lips. “I have a feeling it will be made of stone, with shackles and torches for added ambiance.”

There is also, of course, the greater than zero chance that Ares might just decide I’m too much of a pain in the ass to keep alive. It’s pretty obvious, with no sign of Aphrodite riding to the rescue, that I’m a better revenge token dead than I am alive, and I really don’t want to keep reminding him of that fact.

A little wrinkle forms between Rhiannon’s brows as she thinks. “I don’t know much of the ways of magic,” she says slowly. “But Arawn was its master. Is there some way to make another version of yourself? Something that makes Ares believe you are here when you are gone?”

“Like I did with the chess piece?” I think about it for a minute, turning the idea around in my mind, but eventually shake my head. “No. It wouldn’t work without something to anchor the spell to. The chess piece worked, because it was made from Hades’ power, and he’s Lord of the Underworld. I don’t have anything else I could anchor the magic to. Maybe the relics… but I need them all to get out of here.”

Rhiannon goes still, then she turns to face me, her expression resolute. “Use me.”

I blink at her, not understanding. “Use you?”

“Yes. As your anchor.” She takes my hand again, cool fingers surprisingly strong. “I will stay behind, here. You go and get your sister.”

I shake my head so hard that my hair flips around my shoulders. “I can’t just leave you here. Besides, what if Ares figures it out? I have no idea what he might do to you. I can’t put you in that kind of risk.”

I don’t have a lot of friends. The curse saw to that. Anyone I try to get close to only sees the surface of me, which means shallow relationships with vapid people, mostly. Rhiannon might have lied to me, but she’s also done as much to help me as she can, and she’s never tried to hurt me. She’s the closest thing I have to a friend (Adonis doesn’t really count as a friend since he’s more a boyfriend—another fact I can’t think about at the moment or I’ll start feeling guilty all over again). Regardless, I can’t let Rhiannon take that kind of risk.

Rhiannon actually smiles. “I’m dead, Penelope. I died a very long time ago. I doubt Ares could do much of anything to me.” Then the smile on her face widens. “I have an idea.”

I’m still wary, but I’m also kind of up shit’s creek, so I figure the least I can do is hear her out. “Okay.” I draw the word out, not happy with the suggestion, regardless.

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