Page 44 of Heroines of Olympus

“My name is Icarus. I’m part of the legion that accompanied Ares here,” she answers.

Aphrodite stares into Icarus’s eyes, as if searching for someone she knows.

Despite her heart being in her throat, and not wanting to get in trouble, Icarus is deeply attracted to the god before her. Everyone must feel this way in the face of the goddess of love. Her beauty is staggering, and it takes an effort for Icarus not to say that out loud. It is just the allure of Aphrodite.

A wall shutters behind Aphrodite’s gaze and she turns on her heel, leaving the two guards in confused silence.

* * *

Her eyelids areheavy and close on their own as Icarus keeps falling asleep on her feet. A light slap to the face has her jolting awake, only to find an amused smirk on Lysander’s face. If anyone other than him had done that, they would be on their ass before they can blink.

Lysander’s room is just down the hall from hers in the barracks and they had become fast friends over meals and card games, finding similarities in their rural upbringings.

A loud cry of pain comes from the dungeons and Icarus and Lysander glance at each other, questioning if they should go in.

“Don’t even think about it. We need to mind our own business,” Lysander argues, giving her a pointed look.

When Icarus does not respond, he furrows his brown in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not going in with you.”

Icarus shrugs her shoulders and pushes the door open.

Lysander curses under his breath and follows closely behind her.

They pass a long line of empty cells before they come upon a large cage in the back, a hunched-over figure inside groaning in agony.

Moving closer, Icarus gasps when she recognizes who is inside, the god Hestia.

She would recognize Hestia anywhere from the textbooks at school and the many paintings of her across the realm. The goddess of knowledge has a reputation for being good and kind, and Icarus cannot fathom what Hestia could have done to receive this fate as punishment.

Icarus knows the god cage from lore as a child and cringes in horror.

Lysander comes up beside her, his expression mirroring the shocked repulsion on hers.

“We need to get back to our post,” he breathes.

Her head nods, but Icarus does not move, unable to pull her gaze from Hestia, who is in so much pain that she has yet to even register their presence.

“C’mon,” Lysander urges and at last her feet listen.

When they return to their post, Dionysus is stumbling down the stairs, singing a bawdy off-key tavern song.

Dionysus puts his hand on Lysander’s shoulder. “Tell me why a couple of young, promising Heroes such as yourselves are down here?”

The god hiccups and burps at the same time.

Icarus and Lysander exchange a glance. Is this guy for real?

“Whatever Ares tells us to, sir.” Lysander gives him a placating answer as he puts his arm around the god and tries to direct him back up the stairs.

Dionysus brushes off Lysander’s arm and faces the dungeon door. “I’ll just go see for myself.” Hiccup.

He walks in and closes the door behind him.

“What do we do?” Lysander asks in a low, frantic tone.

Icarus shrugs. “He’s a god. We take orders from them, not the other way around.”

The door opens again, and Dionysus walks back out. Hiccup.

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