Page 168 of A Touch of Chaos

When Hector got to his feet, Ajax did not move.

“No,” Apollo said as he shot across the field, but Machaon had reached him first.

“What is he doing?” Persephone asked.

“Performing,” said Hades as the demigod placed his hands on Ajax.

After a few seconds, the hero’s eyes opened, and he was able to sit up.

The crowd roared with praise.

“A god could have done the same thing,” said Persephone.

“They could,” said Hades. “That is the point.”

Persephone looked at Hades as understanding dawned. The demigods wanted to show that their powers were no different from those of the Olympians.

“I’m beginning to think giving Theseus any kind of platform was a mistake,” said Persephone.

“I suppose we will find out.”

Once Ajax was on his feet, Hector was declared the winner. They were led off the field, but Apollo did not return to his seat. He remained at Ajax’s side, his anger apparent. She wondered if he would try to fight Hector. He had been eager for combat, and now he had a target.

The next game was announced: the footrace.

Persephone looked at Hermes. “Aren’t you fast?”

“I can be,” he said, and then he wiggled his brows. “But I can also go slow if you know what I mean.”

“Do you have to be like this?” Persephone asked.

“I ask myself that question all the time,” said Hades.

“Seriously?” said Hermes. “No one likes me for me!”

“My point is,” Persephone said, refusing to go down that road, “I thought you loved wrestling and racing. Why aren’t you competing? Are you afraid you’ll get beaten by a demigod?”

Hermes sputtered. “Excuse you! I don’t get beaten.”

“Obviously not, because you don’t compete.”

Hermes’s face flushed red. She wanted to laugh, but she also wanted him to take her seriously.

“You know what, Sephy? Fine. I’ll show you.”

He rose to his feet and cast off his robes. They landed over her head but slipped away, too silky to stay. She caught the God of Mischief running to the starting line in a pair of tiny shorts.

When she looked at Hades, she found that he was staring back, a brow raised.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said. “I’m just wondering what you are doing.”

“We can’t let the demigods win a second time, and Hermes is the only god who can beat them in a footraceeven without magic.”

His lips twitched. “You do know the prizes for winning funeral games are boring?”

“It isn’t about the prizes,” she said. “It is about winning.”

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