Page 58 of The Court of the Dead (The Nico di Angelo Adventures #2)

Apate leered at her. “Awww, and we were having such fun! You used to be a better sport, Laverna. What are you doing working with this puffed-up pretender, anyway?”

Pirithous’s face was a mottled red. “You lied about being gods of truth?”

Dolus grinned. “That’s kind of what we do.”

“They look exactly like Truth and Honesty,” Laverna muttered. “The only way you can tell the difference”—she gestured at their spindly floating legs—“is that this pair can’t stand on their own two feet.”

“We save a ton on shoes, though,” Apate said, winking at Pirithous.

“Now, Mister Chief Justice Person, perhaps you could explain why you threw this little party, because it sure wasn’t to wake us up from our long slumber.

We like the Mist. It tricks people. We tend to notice when someone breaks it. ”

Mary Tudor and Tantalus were now trying to hide behind each other, like they were playing some weird game of tag.

Kelli stood by her cart, apparently waiting for a command.

The rest of the crowd remained motionless, entranced by the two beautiful liars who appeared on the verge of doing something violent and possibly entertaining.

“It’s a trap,” Hazel blurted out. “You should leave right now.”

The twins regarded her.

“But we like traps,” said Dolus.

“Adore them,” Apate agreed. “Especially since they don’t work on us. But I tell you what, child, since you seem to be the only one here with a functioning brain: once Pirithous answers our questions and fails to trap us, I’ll let you decide how we cook him—Cajun spice or extra crispy, hmm?”

“Yum!” said Dolus. “Now hush and let the adults talk.”

They returned their attention to Pirithous, who seemed to be having trouble swallowing.

“I—I was not lying,” Pirithous stammered. “My plan is exactly what I said.”

“It was all Pirithous’s idea!” Queen Mary shrieked.

“He forced us!” Tantalus added.

Apate smiled amiably at the two judges. “Well, good. Then we don’t need you.” She snapped her fingers, and Mary and Tantalus turned to dust.

Maybe this should have pleased Hazel, but all the hair rose on her arms. She reached for Asterion’s hand. She could hear the rustle of Quinoa’s leafy wings as he trembled in Arielle’s arms.

Hazel wondered if she and her friends could find a way to leave now, and let Pirithous face the ramifications of his actions alone.

But she didn’t want to draw any attention.

Also, she couldn’t abandon the other imprisoned mythics, or put mortals in even worse danger.

She had a feeling these twins were not particular about who they turned extra crispy.

“Whoops!” Apate regarded the piles of judge dust she’d made and giggled like a child at a birthday party. “Laverna, my old friend, perhaps you could tell us the nature of Pirithous’s trap, and why you are serving such an inferior being.”

“Laverna,” Pirithous countered, “you will say nothing.”

The goddess of thieves looked so torn Hazel thought her head might come off again. Laverna opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

“Well then,” Dolus sighed. “I guess we don’t need you, either.”

He snapped his fingers, and the goddess exploded into a cloud of lint.

Pirithous’s eyes widened. “You dare disintegrate my goddess?”

“Don’t be silly,” said Apate. “We can’t disintegrate goddesses. We just sent her to Mongolia. Or possibly Tanzania. Not really sure. She’ll find her way back eventually.”

“Now, then!” Dolus raised his voice so it echoed throughout the park. “Before I have to vaporize anyone else, what were you really trying to do here, Pirithous?”

The last remaining judge tried to stand straighter, to give the appearance that he knew what he was doing, but Hazel wasn’t fooled. He looked terrified .

“I—I was hoping for Hades,” he said in a high-pitched voice.

Dolus’s smile filled Hazel with dread. “So, you did not intend for us to arrive?”

“No,” Pirithous said. “That is the truth. But that doesn’t mean we can’t work together! I’m sure there is something I can do to provide both of you with what you want!”

“Oh, you can!” Apate glanced over her shoulder at Hazel. “What do you think, girl, Cajun spice, perhaps?”

The goddess lifted her arm and extended it toward Pirithous.

He backed away, his panicked eyes darting from side to side. “Kelli, now!”

The empousa cheerleader yelled, “RELEASE!”

The Laistrygonian giants and Cyclopes tipped over the entire wagon, spilling its contents across the steps of the museum. It sounded like a car being crushed in a trash compactor.

Pirithous’s secret weapon was an enormous chain.

Each link was made of black Stygian iron and large enough that Hazel could’ve stepped through it easily.

At either end was a stirrup-shaped shackle about four feet wide.

Just looking at them made Hazel nauseated.

As a child, she’d seen similar instruments of enslavement in museums in New Orleans.

This chain was bigger and probably magic. But its purpose was the same.

Apate and Dolus had a different reaction. The two gods fell into each other’s arms, laughing so hard that tears rolled down their faces.

“He thinks…He thinks he can…” Dolus wheezed. “BWAHAHAHAHA!”

“With a chain !” Apate howled in delight. “What a fool!”

Pirithous did not look offended or frightened. His expression hardened.

He seemed… certain .

“Laugh while you can,” Pirithous said, raising his hand. “I, too, know how to snap my fingers.”

Apate managed to catch her breath. “Yes, show us your mighty power, Pirithous!”

Dolus spread his arms as if greeting the chain like a friend. “Come forth!” he begged. “Amaze me!”

Pirithous snapped his fingers. “Dolus and Apate, I bind you.”

Nothing happened. The twin gods collapsed in another peal of laughter.

Then the chain lashed out like a rattlesnake. One shackle struck Apate in the neck, contracting until it had her in a choke hold. The other shackle did the same to Dolus. The gods crashed to the pavement so violently that Hazel winced. Dolus’s face smacked against the asphalt.

The twins tried to rise, but they couldn’t. The chain pulled them down, forcing their heads to the ground.

Dolus gasped. “What—what is this?”

Pirithous approached, once again in full command of the situation.

“I thought you knew everything about traps,” he said. “Or did I actually succeed in deceiving the gods of deception?”

Apate snarled, trying in vain to raise her head. “How?” she croaked. “How is it so heavy ?”

“Well,” Pirithous said with a smirk, “the chain was meant for a Titan, after all. Someone far more powerful than you.”

He knelt at Apate’s side, cupping her chin in his hand as if he were going to inspect her teeth. Hazel wanted to run him through with her sword, but she was too horrified to move.

“You see,” Pirithous said, “when Hades released me from my punishment, he thought I would quietly fade away, becoming one of those impotent shades who drift around Asphodel. But I did not. I wandered the darkest corners of Erebos, consumed with righteous fury. I knew I had been given a sacred mission—to bring order to the Underworld by replacing that lazy, incompetent, corrupt, unfair…” He shuddered, struggling to bring his anger under control. “By replacing Hades.”

He stood, smiling directly at Hazel. “Oh, I had no problem finding followers who agreed with me! But I needed more than bodies. I needed something that could trap a god. It took me ages, but I found it—a chain forged by Hephaestus himself, infused with the power of Zeus and the entire Council of Olympus. And then, like so many things made by the gods—it had simply been forgotten, abandoned, tossed aside. Much like me and all my followers!” He faced Dolus and Apate.

“You should feel honored, my newest recruits. You have been bound”—he paused dramatically—“by the chains of Prometheus !”

A terrible wail rose from Apate, forcing Hazel to clamp her hands over her ears.

“Free us!” cried the goddess.

“You will regret this!” howled Dolus.

Hazel shivered. She had told Pirithous much the same thing in the Court of the Dead. And yet, despite the terrible power of these gods, here was Pirithous with the upper hand again .

The spectacle still held everyone spellbound.

Mortal bystanders, having recovered from their initial shock, were starting to gather around the plaza.

Half a dozen cars had stopped in the street, both drivers and passengers hanging out their windows, aiming their phones at the crowd of monsters.

In the distance, Hazel heard the thump, thump, thump of an approaching helicopter.

A news crew? The police? Either way, it was the last thing they needed.

Asterion squeezed her hand. “What should we do?”

Hazel wished she had an answer.

Next to her, Arielle cradled Quinoa more closely. “I don’t think we can fix this,” she murmured. “We need to cut our losses and get away from here. If we all run at once, he can’t stop us all.”

“Maybe she’s right,” Quinoa said. “I don’t want to become food for anyone!”

They had a point, but it still didn’t feel right to Hazel. She couldn’t simply leave all this behind, could she? She hadn’t solved anything. She couldn’t let Pirithous win. Demigods weren’t supposed to flee; they were supposed to stand and fight!

Meanwhile, Pirithous was glorying in his newest triumph. He strutted around the chained gods, his arms raised.

“Look what I have done, Hades!” he shouted to the skies. “This will be your fate, too!”

Asterion knelt next to Hazel. “It must be your decision, Praetor. I can see you struggling with this, but we will follow your lead.”

Hazel gripped her spatha. Maybe helping the others flee really was the best option—to save as many lives as they could—but it didn’t sit well with her. She needed to understand these chains. She needed to take their power away from Pirithous.

“Hades!” Pirithous called out again. “I am giving you the opportunity to defend yourself! Present yourself for my judgment!”

He is delusional , Hazel thought. Father will never show up for him.

Pirithous dropped his arms, and then he turned to address his followers. “No matter! We will continue our efforts until the accused does show his face. With our two new recruits, we will be stronger than ever!”

Dolus howled in anger. “We are not your recruits!”

“We will never work for you, fool!” Apate agreed.

“That is your choice, of course,” said Pirithous.

“You can stay shackled in the chains of Prometheus for as long as you wish. The iron does have a way of convincing its victims, though. When I first summoned Laverna and put her in those chains, she lasted almost half a day before the eagle found her.”

The twins stopped struggling.

“Eagle?” said Dolus.

“Oh, yes!” Pirithous said. “A clever bird. It knows exactly how to cut open the belly of a god and feed on their immortal organs. Very painful, I understand. And it will just keep feeding…forever, as long as you are chained. But you don’t have to worry about that just yet.

Your first problem will be the agony that comes from simply wearing those shackles. That should start right about…now.”

The twins writhed, screaming, as their restraints began to glow and steam.

Hazel couldn’t stand it. She had no love for these gods of deceit, but there was nothing fake about their cries of pain. She wasn’t sure she could do much, but she readied her spatha.

As quickly as it started, the gods’ agony subsided. They collapsed, gasping and exhausted, smoke still billowing from the irons around their necks.

“There, now,” Pirithous said. “You probably have…oh, a couple of minutes to relax. Of course, every time is exponentially more painful. I have to give Zeus credit. When he designs an eternal punishment, he doesn’t mess around.”

“We will destroy you,” said Apate, but there was no force behind her words. She sounded like she was about to cry.

“Let us out,” croaked Dolus. “What do you want?”

“Oh, it’s simple!” Pirithous said. “Bind yourself to me, as all these others have done before you. Serve the Court of the Dead. Swear your oath, and I will release you. Understand, you are not who I’m after. Together, we will bring Hades to his knees!”

Hazel could see it in the gods’ faces—they were about to relent.

They could not stand the pain. And once Pirithous had them on his side, he would be more powerful than ever.

She and her friends would be turned to dust. Pirithous would keep going, collecting followers, enslaving the gods themselves, until finally her father would have no choice but to respond—and possibly be enslaved.

“No,” she decided. She turned to her friends. “We can’t flee.”

Asterion nodded solemnly. “We are outnumbered. I do not think we can win. But if we must fight, I will be honored to die at your side.”

Arielle grimaced. “I can’t believe I am saying this, but me, too. I will fight with you, Hazel Levesque.”

Quinoa grunted. “Why not? Even the best grain can’t last forever. Say when.”

A warm sensation coursed through Hazel’s body. At first, she thought it was simply gratitude for having these friends at her side. And that was part of it, yes. But it was also a sense that something had changed, like a shifting tide.

She scanned the park.

There. Down the road to the south, about a hundred feet from the plaza, a group of people were running in their direction. And the one in the lead wore a bomber jacket.

Hazel laughed with delight, startling even her friends.

Asterion frowned. “What is it, Hazel?”

“The cavalry,” she said. Then she raised her sword and shouted loudly enough for all the mythics to hear. “ATTACK!”