Page 163 of A Touch of Chaos

His grip on her tightened. “That is not the point.”

“I will not give Theseus the benefit of seeing merun,” she said, though she had to admit, she wasn’t sure she was ready to see the demigod again. When she thought about it, her heart felt like it was going to jump out of her chest. “That is what he wants.”

“Theseus wants everything,” said Hades. “He does not care if you run or not. He can manipulate either choice you make.”

Persephone’s stomach knotted. “Those are not comforting words, Hades.”

“I do not know that I can offer comfort where Theseus is concerned.”

“Are you all right, Seph?”

Persephone turned her head to see that Apollo had approached Hades’s chariot. He was dressed in a gold breastplate and leather ptergues. She had seen him clad similarly in the past when he trained at the palaestra with Ajax and other heroes.

“I am all right,” she said and let her gaze shift past him. “Where is Ajax?”

“He is farther back in line,” said Apollo. “He will enter with the other heroes after the demigods.”

Persephone shuddered. “I hate that he must walk in the shadow of Theseus.”

“I am not keen on the arrangement,” he said. “But it is tradition.”

Persephone wanted to roll her eyes, but she didn’t.

“Will you join the games, Hades?” Apollo asked.

“No,” Hades said. “Few wish to battle death.”

“I think Theseus and his band of jackasses would like a go,” said Apollo.

Persephone frowned. “Are you participating, Apollo?”

“I am,” he said. “Single combat.”

“As a mortal, right?”

“No,” he said. His mouth was tight, as if the suggestion insulted him. “I am a god. I will fight as one.”

“But, Apollo—”

“I will be fine, Persephone,” said Apollo. “Despite having no powers, I still have my strength. It would be unfair to fight mere mortals.”

A shrill whistle sounded, a signal for the gods to ready their chariots.

“Wish me luck?” he asked.

“You always have my luck,” said Persephone, but she would also fear for him, not knowing what, if anything, Theseus and his men had planned.

Apollo grinned and sauntered off, returning to his chariot.

“I do not like this,” Persephone said as Hades tugged on the reins, urging the chariot forward. “He has no power.”

“Apollo does not rely on magic in battle,” said Hades. “He will be fine.”

She tried to take comfort in his words, but as they entered the vaulted corridor of the stadium, her anxiety only grew worse. The crowd already sounded like a storm, thundering all around them, and they were not even on the arena floor.

She kept her gaze on Ares as he left the shade of the tunnel, the sun glimmering off his golden armor, the plume of red feathers coming out of his helm like fire, spilling down his back. He lifted his spear into the air—the same one he had used to pin Hades to the ground.

As the God of War guided his chariot, he glancedback at her, a cynical smile on his face.

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