“Then where does it go?”
She bit her lip at me. At this rate, she wasn’t going to have any left. “The, uh, the arch—the portal is through an old stone archway in the basement of my court—is one the gods were said to have used to visit the Pythias, back when we were their servants. It doesn’t work since my mother’s spell went into effect, but you had a pass key to another supposedly closed portal, so maybe it will for you.”
“Dorina was the key,” I reminded her, my head spinning. “I’m . . . I’m nothing—”
“You’re her sister, and closer than a sister. You can probably open it, too,” Ray said, and then turned on the Pythia, his blue eyes snapping. “Are you trying to say that you expect her to sneak into the realm of the gods, the people currently trying to kill us, find another portal from there to Jotunheim, and then what? Retrace her steps with a bunch of the gods’ most wanted in tow? Is that what you’re saying?”
More lip chewing commenced. “Kinda?”
“Well, okay then. I’m down.”
“What?” I said, staring at him. Because that plan was insane, even for me. And Ray was usually the voice of reason.
“Oh, like you’re not gonna go.”
“Of course, I’m going to go! I don’t have a choice! My family is there!”
He looked at me soberly. “So is mine.”
I blinked at him, and belatedly realized that I might not have a Second anymore. I might have a brother-in-law. It was a bit of an adjustment, or it would have been at any other time.
Now, it just sort of washed away on all the crazy.
I glanced at Louis-Cesare, and he shrugged. “If you are going, so am I.”
“And us,” Sarah said, looking around at her men. “I mean, that was the deal, right? We find Dorina. And we haven’t found her yet.”
“Can I talk to you privately?” Tomas hissed.
“Around here? Probably not.”
But they went off to mutter at each other in a corner.
“They’ll come,” Ranbir said, drifting back inside with Ev, their muscle man, and Sarah’s brother Jason. “Professional pride on her part and the other sort on his. First team to ever assault the stronghold of the gods. . ..” His smile turned almost beatific. “The ads practically write themselves.”
“You’re really going to do this?” Claire asked me, after the Pythia took the opportunity to say her goodbyes and flee.
“Don’t have a choice. How fast can you get me functional?”
“I already told you. Three weeks, perhaps more.” She slapped my hand as I tried to sit up, to evaluate my progress for myself. “And that’s assuming you don’t reinjure yourself by being stupid!”
“She won’t reinjure herself,” Louis-Cesare promised.
“Well, then. We have three weeks to prepare.”
“We?” I repeated. “You’re going, too?”
“Of course, she isn’t,” one of her guards said, from beside the door. “The very idea is absurd!”
“Eske,” Claire told me. “He’s new.”
Obviously.
“Okay, okay,” Ray said. “You guys heard what you wanted. There’s no more juicy stuff, all right? Let’s let her get some shut eye.”
They left again, and this time Ray went after them, I supposed to usher them down the hall and make sure they really did leave.
“I’ll check on you in a little while,” Claire said, and followed them out, her troubled looking guards, most of whom were not new, trailing after her.