Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
"Was it a good piece?" I asked hopefully.
"Oh no." Mira was actually smiling right now, and her eyes were glowing like she was in the middle of reminiscing a rather fond memory. "I believe it said...it's shamefully predictable and appallingly desperate for the upstart to believe she could become a proper goddess just by adding ambrosia to her DNA."
"That kinda sounds like verbatim," I said suspiciously.
But Mira ignored this. "I just want you to understand thoroughly what you're up against—-"
I rolled my eyes. "There's only so many ways you can keep reminding me I'm not the ideal LOTUS."
Mira blinked. "LOTUS?"
"It's...you know what? Never mind. Can we just please focus on solutions? And you must have one, surely?"
"There is one that might work..." Mira's tone became thoughtful. "But I don't know if Hades would approve—-"
"Let's worry about that later," I said eagerly. "What is it...oh." Mira had once again grabbed my hand, but thankfully it wasn't to start tearing my skin open again. This time, she had dumped an object in my hands, and I stared down at it blankly.
A small and exceptionally detailed iron figurine in the shape of a partridge, and sadly...I couldn't recall a partridge in any Hercules episode.
"I'm sorry, but what is this?"
"Perdix is the nephew of Daedalus—-"
"The guy who created the Labyrinth?" I smirked at the look Mira gave me. "Yes, I do—-"
"And that he was killed by his famous uncle?"
"Oh, er, no, I did not know that." But I wasn't surprised she did.
"Daedalus was jealous of Perdix's greatness as an inventor."
Oh, these ancient Greeks. They were such a murderously jealous bunch.
"So when he saw the chance to kill the boy, he took it. He pushed his nephew off the Acropolis—-"
"Seriously?"
"Fortunately for Perdix, Athena saw what was happening, and the goddess saved his life by turning him—-"
"Oh my God!" I stared down at the iron partridge in my hand. "Is this Perdix?"
Mira gave me a pained look. "No."
"It was a logical assumption to make," I said defensively.
"No." Mira looked even more pained. "It's not. May I continue now?"
I started to answer, but it seemed as if Mira was afraid to hear another word from me because she had started talking rather quickly.
"What you're holding is one of Perdix's inventions. If you feed it a drop of your blood, the partridge will come to life and work as a living compass. You can command it to trace the stolen vial, and the partridge will be able to do so since the vial contains your blood."
"So I just command it?" I asked dubiously, "and wait until it comes flying back with the stolen vial?"
"If it were that easy," Mira said patiently, "I'd have done this myself. But it's not. This partridge can only follow you because you are the source of the blood it feeds on. Consequently, you'll need to follow it on foot, go wherever it leads you, and that's why I said Hades is unlikely to approve of this. He thinks you're too weak—-"
"He's just overprotective," I muttered.
"Because you're weak."
Oh, for the love of...
"And since I don't think it's worth risking Hades' wrath by letting you go on this quest alone..."
Chapter Seven
Thirty minutes later, and I was at the back of Hadrian's manor, wondering whether I had it right from the start. When his cousin insisted I take on a suitable companion and that she had the perfect person in mind, I had thought it was rather sweet of her, but...
Snakes for hair, a stare that could turn you into stone, and nails (this was frankly starting to feel like an omen) so long, hard, and crooked they almost seemed like talons.
A Gorgon, for Hell's sake!
Her idea of a perfect companion for me was a Gorgon!
If Mira wanted me dead, couldn't she just be up front about it?
I fought to keep my smile from slipping as I descended the steps to meet the Gorgon halfway. An oversized pair of sunglasses covered almost half of her face, which I was grateful for, naturally. Long live Ray-Ban!
She also had on a plain black dress, short-sleeved and ankle-length, and sensible-looking sandals. Very widow-like, or maybe she simply thought it efficient to have her funeral outfit on, in case she met someone down the road she'd like to kill?
The thought made me feel a little panicky, and this time I knew the Big M hadn't anything to do with it. Just good old fear, and it had me beaming extra brightly as we finally came close enough to each other to talk.
"Um, hi—-"
SNAP!
Her tongue had flashed out with a literal snap, real quick and scary, with her tongue as thin as a popsicle stick but as long as a chopstick, and yes, that was my fear-addled brain making me think in rhymes.
The Gorgon's lips stretched into a smile.
That is our traditional way of greeting.