Page 74

“You said Eros was weakened,” I say finally. “After the temple. What do you mean?”

The oracle looks at me like she’s been waiting for me to ask, and my stomach sinks again. There’s something she’s preparing me for, something she wants me to do.

“His powers are much diminished, and in his weakened state, Aphrodite has imprisoned him. She has hidden him from the eyes of the other gods, and conscripted her other sons to guard him.”

I listen, my heart quickening.

“To what end? When will she release him?”

The Pythia shakes her head.

“When she has bent him to her will. When he is broken.”

Broken.I stare out over the mountains of Delphi, the dust-brown earth and the scrub of green; the blue of distant hills. Aphrodite and her two other sons, three against one. What does it mean, to break a god’s will? I run my finger over one of the cedarwood arrows, its smooth feather-tail.

“But what canIdo? I am a mortal. He is a god.”

“And so you think yourself powerless?”

“Gods have all the power that matters.” I am impatient now. “All they leave us with are prayers.”

She cocks her head to the side at that, as though considering my words.

“Nevertheless,” she says finally, “you must decide.”

I stare at her placid, quiet face. I open my mouth, then close it again. This is madness.

“What are you asking of me? What aid would you have me offer?”

The Pythia nods.

“You must go to Mount Olympus. You must ascend its slopes.”

Olympus!Mortals don’t go to that place. It simply doesn’t happen.

“It will be difficult. Do not stray from the path. Do not become distracted. You must listen carefully to your instincts. There is a great river that divides its peak. You will find him on the other side.”

“But…you said he has been hidden there. How am I to find him?”

She nods.

“Do not let your eyes grow dazzled. You must seek out the darkness, daughter of Sikyon. You will not find him in the light.”

A knot grows in my stomach.

“What darkness?”

But her lips only tighten.

“You will know it when you see it,” is all she says. “If you are watching.”

I swallow hard. Maybe Herakles, or Theseus, or some other god-child could make it up to the top of Mount Olympus, but I have heard things about the mortals who dare to seek the gods’ own realm, the ones brave or foolish enough to climb the slopesthat were made to keep us out. There are stories of monsters, of spells darker than in any tales of the Great Poets. It is arrogance to think that we can journey at will through lands we were never fated to walk. And yet apparently I am to attempt it.

“And will he be returned to me?” I say. “If I do this? If I go?”

She blinks slowly.

“You have a chance.”