"Thank you," I said.
"Don't thank me yet. Thank me when you come back." She crossed herself. "If you come back."
Rhadamanthys led us to a black SUV parked at the curb. He opened the back door and gestured for us to get in.
Lorenzo went first. I followed, sliding across the leather seat until I was pressed against his side. I couldn’t see him thanks to my missing eye, but feeling him, knowing he was there beside me? It settled me.
Rhadamanthys got in the driver's seat and started the engine. "We'll be at the airfield in twenty minutes. From there, it's a two-hour flight to Montana. Rest while you can, amici. This time tomorrow, you’ll wish you had.”
I thought about the seven kids from Project Icarus, Eight and the way she'd fought when we first found her.
This was always how it was going to end, with me and Lorenzo against the man who'd destroyed both our lives. Chained together in the dark, fighting for something bigger than either of us.
I reached for Lorenzo's hand and foundit on the first try.
The ranch sat ina valley between two ridges, surrounded by pine trees that stretched up the mountainside. Rhadamanthys directed the SUV down a dirt road that wound through the property, past a red barn and several outbuildings, until we reached the main house. It was two stories with wood siding and a wraparound porch. Diego's family network stretched further than I'd realized. Some distant cousin or uncle of Diego’s owned this place, but like all Romani safe houses, it asked no questions and kept its doors open to people who needed to disappear.
The seven kids from Alaska had ended up here, and somehow, so had we.
Rafael shifted beside me in the back seat. He'd been quiet since Seattle, clutching the rosary Florica had given him. I wanted to ask if he was okay, but I wasn’t sure if he was praying or just thinking. It seemed rude to interrupt a prayer.
The SUV stopped in front of the house, and Rhadamanthys cut the engine.
Rafael opened his door before I could respond. I followed him out into the afternoon heat. Montana was warmer than I expected, with the sun bright overhead and no clouds. It was a beautiful day, the kindthat made you forget about underground mazes and eagles that tore out eyes.
Hades appeared on the porch in a pair of jeans and a simple black button-up. “Welcome to Montana.” He descended the steps and took my hand. I thought it was just a handshake until I felt him press something cool and metallic into my palm. “You’ve more than earned this, my friends. Constantine's eagles are vicious creatures. It was no small thing killing one in Alaska. He is lesser for it. You must use that to your advantage when he arrives.”
My legs buckled. “He’s cominghere?”
"Of course he is." Hades released my hand. "You have three Director seals. That gives you the right to challenge him in a trial by combat. He must answer."
I looked down at the bronze disc in my palm. A crocodile was stamped into the ancient metal, jaws open and teeth sharp enough to draw blood.
"When?" Rafael asked. His voice was steady, but I heard the tension underneath.
"Within the hour." Hades glanced toward the barn. "The children are in there. They're safe as long as I remain on this property. Constantine knows better than to move against a Director so openly."
"But after the ceremony?" I asked.
"After the ceremony, you'll be in the labyrinth. Win or lose, it will be decided there." Hades turned back toward the house. "We'll set up outside. It's a lovely day, and there's no need to stain the floors with what's coming."
Hades and Rhadamanthys disappeared into the house, leaving us standing in the yard with an hour to kill before Constantine showed up to negotiate how we'd die.
The smart move would be going inside to strategize. Instead, my feet turned toward the barn where I’d heard the voices of children.
I stopped at the threshold.
Inside, the seven of them had scattered into their own versions of coping. A girl near the back was doing pushups, her form perfect, counting to herself like it was the only thing keeping her sane. Two boys were tossing a baseball back and forth, but their movements were too stiff.
The smallest one with the rabbit sat in a corner, rocking slightly and sucking her thumb. One kid had claimed the loft and was just sitting up there, staring at nothing. Another was pacing the length of the barn while the last one lounged against a hay bale with a phone, scrolling too fast.
One week out and nobody knew what the hell they were supposed to be doing.
I recognized every single response. The exercise. The fake normalcy. The shutting down. The pacing. The pretending everything was fine.
Rafael moved past me into the barn. The two boys with the baseball stopped throwing.
"You don't have to stop," Rafael said quietly.
