“How long is a r-round?”
Kharon leaned close. “Until you defeat your labors,” he said darkly. “Or they defeatyou.”
“So, if you’re defeated, it just … ends?” I asked.
Kharon gripped my neck tighter, his eyes hardening. “It doesn’tenduntil you drag your broken body out of the arena and—”
“And then they brand you,” Augustus said quietly.
“What if … you can’t leave the arena?”
Kharon and Augustus stood up straighter and refused to meet my eyes.
This is barbaric.
“Hermos.”
He walked forward calmly. A single snake trailed out of his head like hair, rattling, as he ripped open his shirt, showcasing multiple brands.
“Revelations—he has been dishonored bysixof his labors,” Zeus shouted as he rolled the two dice.
The crowd held its breath.
“One round,” Zeus announced. “Three labors.”
The crowd booed with disappointment. “Snake scum!” someone screamed. “Abomination. Your kind isn’t wanted in Sparta!”
Hermos smiled as he walked back to the line and Agatha grinned at him.
There was a one in eighteen chance of rolling a three with two dice.
Lucky.
“Patro,” Fate said.
My mentor sauntered lazily across the sand.
At the altar, he slowly opened his shirt, and everyone stared enraptured. The Olympian leaders leaned forward like they were all trying to get a better look.
He truly was his mother’s son.
Patro casually revealed his impressive, muscled physique—he appeared as if he was carved from bronze, the statue of David in the flesh—and showed off a single circular mark in the middle of his chest, right over his heart.
The dice clattered across marble.
“Revelations—he has been dishonored byoneof his labors.” Zeus’s lips twitched into a frown. “One round—two labors!”
The crowd clapped.
Another lucky roll.
Catcalls echoed as people whooped and hollered, begging him to look in their direction.
Achilles relaxed with visible relief.
Patro shot me a smug grin when he was within earshot. “Enjoy your time with yourhusbands,” he mocked. “I hope you don’tregretyour choice.”
I nodded back, too nervous to engage, and Patro looked bewildered.