Page 126 of Bonds of Hercules
“Uh—Ceres,” I said, “why did you j-just crumple up that symbol? What do you mean it matters tonight? What were you—”
“What, Alexis?” She smiled. “Sorry, I’ve been lost in thought while reading.”
“The symbol you just showed me,” I whispered, deeply unsettled. “What was it?”
“The umlaut?” Ceres asked.
I reached down and picked up the wrinkled piece of paper and did a double take—the page was blank.
“I think that was just scrap paper.” Ceres went still. “Wait—Alexis, can you see something on it?”
I stared at the empty page, feeling sick.
“No, n-not anymore. I swear it just had a …” I shook my head. “Never mind. I must be tired. Sometimes when I’m exhausted, I imagine a man is watching me sleep. My mind runs away from—”
“Stop, Alexis.” Ceres stared up at me. “All we are is what we perceive. Right or wrong, real or not. Predestination speaks in a language that no one truly understands.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “It’s a feeling—and ifyou’vefelt it, you need to believe in yourself.”
I backed away, dropping the paper.
“I’m just t-tired.”
Ceres looked grave. “You need to trust yourself. I trust you, with my life. You need to do the same. Believe in yourself, in your abilities.”
I backed into the other bedroom.
“I just need to rest,” I said, shutting the door before she could reply.
Falling into Helen’s pink bed, I pulled the cover up over my head, then grabbed my pocket graphing calculator.
Dragging my fingers over the shiny buttons, I admired the linear equation I’d been working on.
“Dear Diary,” I whispered into the microphone. “Ceres is acting strange, and my recent graph supports that the Riemann zeta function has its zeros not only at the negative even integers but also with complex numbers with real halves.”
I paused.
“Also, I think I’m going crazy. I’m seeing things. A strange symbol. The grim reaper. And I feel like I’mdyingevery time I think about my husbands.” I clicked it off.
Knock.
Knock.
“The heir to the House of Hades has been requested to meet in the dining room,” a servant called through the closed door. “It’s urgent.”
I groaned.
Is a single day of rest really too much to ask for?
Less than a minute later, I cautiously pushed open the door to the dining room with the animals all huddled at my feet.
I peeked inside.
Spooky.
It was midday, but the curtains had been pulled, and the dining room was dark. The only light was from the smoldering fireplace, its flames burning low, and the scent of smoke was sharp.
Wind howled outside, as sheets of rain slammed against the long windows.
The storm was picking up.
