Page 18 of Nemesis

5ARTEMIS

Reese Avery is a ghost.I spend the rest of the day trying to track him down and come up painfully empty. I don’t hear from Malik or the sheriff. Or Wolfe, Jace, or Apollo.Or Antonio. But then the sun sets, and I am due at the fights, so I head back to my empty condo to get dressed.

I arrive at Olympus on time—as in, with everyone else. The hired hands are wearing their raven masks. They haven’t worn those in a while, as Apollo likes to have them rotate in new ones. But I like them best of all, with their sharp beaks and blue-black, glistening feathers.

The man at the door waves me in without hesitation. And without payment. I adjust my mask. It’s made of bone, although there isn’t really an animalistic shape to it. Not like Apollo’s intricate deer skull mask.

My gold dress swishes around my thighs, and I slip easily through the crowded atrium. There’s no end to the luxury of Olympus on a fight night, although at once I long for the emptiness of it during the day.

I find a spot at the back and lean against the vegetation-covered wall. It’s practically alive with blooms and vines andmoss. It’s meant to represent Persephone. It was a gift for her when they took Olympus back from the Hell Hounds.

Raven-masked employees weave through the room, dressed all in black, holding trays of champagne. I resist the urge to snatch one off and chug it.

Eventually, the huge doors boom shut. The chatter rises sharply, anticipation clawing at the room, until Apollo appears. Like usual, he wears only brown leather pants. The gold deer skull mask obscures his whole face. There are beaded leather cords that hang down, brushing the tops of his shoulders, and golden antlers protrude from the top of the mask.

He carries a staff that he uses on the marble floor like a gavel.

Boom, boom, boom.

“Welcome to Olympus,” he calls to the hushed crowd.

I can’t help the prickle of excitement that travels through me.

“I’m your host for the evening, Apollo.” The mask can’t obscure the edges of his wide smile. “We have some great fights planned for you tonight. Winners will walk away with not only their dignity… but glory.”

The crowd cheers.

“Who will have to be scraped off the floor? Who will persevere?” He raises his arms. “Only time will tell. Enjoy yourselves, gods and goddesses. The doors are now open.”

Because I’m looking for it, I see his foot twitch on the marble. There’s a sharppop, and smoke bursts up from the floor. People gasp and cry out, and when the smoke clears, he’s gone.

Some go upstairs, to where there are better views down to the fighting ring. Others flood around the wide center staircase, preferring to be up close to the action.

I wait.

I don’t know why I linger in the atrium, hanging back until the room is empty.

Almost empty.

Someone’s on the steps, near where Apollo stood. A man in a black dress shirt and pants. From the back, his dark hair is close-cropped on the sides and a longer on top. He’s scuffing his foot across the step.

To figure out how Apollo disappeared?

“Some tricks should be left a mystery,” I call.

He straightens and pivots. His mask is inky black. It’s surprising how much depth it has, and from here, I can’t tell if it’s fabric or something else. And for a moment, I’m stumped on who he represents.

“I like figuring out how the world works,” the man says. His mask comes all the way down to his jaw on his right side. On the left, his high cheekbone and sharp jawline are visible. His lips quirk. “Don’t you?”

“I know how it works,” I say. I climb the steps slowly, until I’m even with him. And it’s startling how much taller he is than me. “Olympus tells me its secrets.”

Not as much as it speaks to its hosts.

“Hmm.” His eyes are nearly as black as his mask. “Artemis?”

I almost flinch.

“There are tiny arrows in your mask. Like the bone’s been chiseled.”

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