Overhead, heat blazed. The flap of wings was so loud. I chanced a glance upward, catching sight of flaming hair and fangs so long they could pierce straight through my neck.

Ice raced through my veins.

The Empusa swept past us, her leathery black wings carrying her through the air.

She hadn’t seen us.

But she swooped back, flying low over the trees, her blazing red eyes searching the ground below. Her hands were tipped with white talons that could shred the flesh from my bones.

I ran harder, gripping Ares’s hand. If I let go and she saw him….

The bats coalesced around us, as if they could sense us more easily than the Empusa. Their little wings brushed against my arms and face. Shivers raced over me.

The Empusa swooped down at us, drawn by the bats.

I dove low, dragging Ares with me. We skidded on the ground, narrowly avoiding the Empusa’s raking claws, then scrambled upright.

My muscles were burning as we ran, the bats and the Empusa so close that the flap of their wings was the only thing I could hear.

When the trees began to thin and the Empusa shrieked her rage, hope gave me an extra shot of energy. We hurtled from the forest, skidding to a stop at a river bank.

I clutched Ares’s hand tight and spun. The Empusa hovered in midair at the tree line, her gaze searching the shore of the river.

“She can sense us,” Ares whispered.

“But she can’t approach.”

Her minions flew around her. She vibrated with rage, her black dress trembling. Her hair blazed out from her head, a fiery orange that somehow complimented her massive fangs.

“Do you think she barbecues people with her hair before she eats them?” I whispered.

Ares choked back a laugh. The Empusa’s head shifted towards us, her gaze narrowing. Chills raced over my spine.

Barking sounded from our left. I turned. A two-headed dog the size of a horse galloped along the riverbank, his fiery red eyes trained on the Empusa. He charged right up to the forest, growling and snapping.

The Empusa hissed and wheeled away, disappearing back through the forest. Her bats followed.

The hound turned to face us, its two heads nearly identical save for the different colored eyes. One had red eyes, the other orange. His fur was a shiny black. Muscles rippled underneath.

“He’s a puppy?” I said.

“I’d hate to see his father.”

The child of Cerberus trotted toward us. Though menace rolled off of him, I barely felt worried at all. I slipped off the helmet and handed it out to him, then let go of Ares’s hand.

He woofed low, then took the helmet in his jaws. Well, one of his jaws. The one with orange eyes. The other head reached out and licked my hand.

“Ouch!” I shook my hand. His tongue was as rough as sandpaper. It’d left little red scrapes. I shook a finger at him. “You’re very sweet, but you have to be careful.”

He woofed low.

Ares chuckled. “You’re scolding a hound of hell?”

“Please. Del has a hellhound. You met Pond Flower. They’re just dogs.” I bent down and picked up a stick, then tossed it. The dog jumped, spinning in midair, then took off after the stick. I dusted my hands together. “See?”

Ares grinned. “Point taken. Ready to cross this river?”

“As I’ll ever be.” I turned back to it.

The water was an oily black, like thousands of gallons of ink. Oddly, it smelled like metal. About thirty yards away, a boatman punted across the river. He wore a long black cloak that concealed his whole form, making him look like the grim reaper.

“Want to try for a ride?” I asked.

“Sure.”

We jogged down the beach, reaching the ferryman just as he beached his small boat on the shore.

“Hi.” I stepped forward. “Can we get a ride?”

His head tilted up. Though he had no features—just a gaping black space where a face should have been—his eyes gleamed red. His magic felt like flames licking against my skin.

“This isn’t the River Styx. And I’m not for sale.” His voice held all the rough darkness of hell, and I shivered.

“Um. I’m sorry.” I held up my hands, placating. “No offense meant. Perhaps you could just help us? Please?”

“No.” His voice whipped out, ice cold. “This task is for you, not me. You shall not find the underworld so accommodating.”

He lifted his pole and pushed off of the bank, sending his boat drifting back across the river.

I turned to Ares. “Well, shit.”

“Could you try conjuring?”

“Yes.” Though I’d hoped to save the power, especially since hell suppressed a lot of my magic, this was necessary. I called upon my gift, envisioning a small wooden rowboat. It appeared on the shore, half of it floating in the shallows of the river. Last, I conjured two oars. I turned to Ares. “Ready?”

He nodded. I climbed on first, moving toward the stern. Ares jumped in then pushed off the bank. As soon as the boat was floating freely in the water, it began to sink.

“But there are no holes!” I cried. My boat was perfect.

But the inky water devoured it. Soon, it lapped at the tops of my boots, burning my skin. Then at my knees and thighs. Agony swept through me, then despair. Sadness like I’d never known clawed at my mind.

“Back to the shore!” Ares’s voice was pained.

“No!” It was up to my chest now. “We have to swim for it. Quickly!”

There was no other way. With my perfect boat sinking and the only native hell-made boat now out of sight, swimming was our only shot.

“Hurry, then,” Ares gritted.

The water was up to my neck, bringing with it pain and sadness. My skin felt like it was burning, and horrible thoughts and memories bombarded my mind. It was as if the water were made of Phantoms. But this was just the nature of the River Acheron. Each of the rivers in hell had a characteristic. Unfortunately, we had to swim through the worst one.

I struck out through the black water, kicking as hard as I could. When my arms broke the surface, they were coated with inky black water.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I swam, thoughts of failure filling my mind. What if I couldn’t beat Drakon? What if everyone in the world lost their magic because of me?

What would we lose? Not just our magic, but our way of life. Drakon would use his ill-gotten gains to subjugate the world. Nothing was past him. He could turn us all into prisoners. Or slaves. Or kill us all. He was so evil that his end goal could be anything—but no matter what, it would be the annihilation of everything I knew and loved.

What would happen to my deirfiúr ? To Ares?

I swam through the pain, turning my misery into determination.

At the middle of the river, the water turned thicker. Almost like pudding. Ares swam next to me, even his strong strokes faltering.

A cold laugh sounded from the bank behind us. I managed to turn my head just enough to catch a glimpse of a huge man. He wore ancient armor, and his eyes were black as coal.

Hades.

“I’m doing this for all of us, you know,” I shouted back at him, suddenly angry. I didn’t expect help from all the gods, but his cold laughter in the face of my pain? Bastard.

I kicked harder, rage propelling me in a way that grief couldn’t. I pushed myself, dragging my body through the mucky water. By the time we reached the other shore, my muscles were trembling and achy, my face soaked with tears.

I crawled out of the muck, thoroughly coated. Hades’s cold laughter died. I flopped onto my back, panting, and turned my head.

He was gone. I could almost feel the annoyance he’d left on the air. “Take that, jerk.”

Ares struggled upright, then reached a hand down for me. “Come on, there’s a clear pool up ahead. We have to wash this stuff off.”

He was right. It still burned, and the grief brought by the river still lurked at the corners of my mind. I dragged myself up and followed him to the clear pool, taking in the forest around us.

It was lovely, actually, a mass of silver birches. The sun shined dimly through the trees, as if it were dawn. Birds chirped. The water in the small pond glittered crystal clear, the pebbles at the bottom a bright, shiny silver.

I stumbled into the water alongside Ares. It was cool and fresh, washing away the black ink. The pain faded, and the grief drifted from my mind. I sagged, submerging my head and letting the water wash away my tears.

With the misery gone, all that was left was the memory of what I was fighting for. Strength filled me. Inspiration. I could not fail at this—even if I didn’t think I was worthy, I had to be.

Lungs burning, I pushed myself to the surface. Ares had just broken through as well. His hair was slicked back from his head and his face clean of the black inky water.

His gaze zeroed in on mine immediately.

My heart thumped, swelling with an unfamiliar emotion that felt a hell of a lot like—

“I love you.” He dragged me against him, clutching me close. His voice was raspy at my ear. “In the river, I faced my greatest fear. Losing you. And it became clear … I love you.”

Lightness and joy filled my chest. Yes. Yes. This was right. It was so right. The River of Acheron had stripped away all of the unnecessary bullshit that clouded my mind and taken me down to pure fear and loss.

And one of the things I’d feared losing most was Ares. Like my deirfiúr .

And he felt the same.

My heart felt like it would burst out of my chest as I pulled back and met his gaze. Love burned in the depths of his green eyes, so obvious. I’d always thought it sounded trite when I read it in books, but I was so damned wrong.

I pressed my lips to his, kissing him hard. “I love you, too.” I laughed, a slightly crazed sound. “Holy shit, I do.”

I blinked, suddenly full of strength and determination. I had so much to fight for. I always had, and even if I hadn’t, I’d have fought anyway. The fight was that important.

But now, with Ares….

“I want more of this.” The words spilled out of me. “A lifetime of it.”

“So do I.” He kissed me hard. “Which means we need to get started. We have to get to that stone before Drakon does.”

“Yes.” I pulled back and swam for the shore to climb out.

Ares joined me, shaking his limbs as water flew off. My clothes dripped, heavy and wet.

I pulled the mirror from my pocket, grateful to see it uncracked. Within, Drakon flew. Behind him, the sky was a dark gray.

Shit. Almost out of time. My heart thumped.

I was about to conjure a fresh set of clothes when a voice sounded from behind me.

“Well, I cannot say that I am not impressed.”

I turned. Hermes stood at the other side of the pond, his golden sandals glinting in the dim sunlight.

“How long have you been there for?” I didn’t like the idea of him witnessing the moment between me and Ares.

“Just a moment. Long enough to see you crawl out of this pond like a primordial creature.”

Whew.

“You may be impressed, but Hades wasn’t,” I said.

“Miserable bastard, Hades,” Hermes said. “But can you blame him?”

“I guess not,” I said. “What did you do with Nestor’s shell?”

“Added it to my collection.” He grinned. “You would know all about that.”

I thought longingly of my trove. “I would, though turtle shells aren’t my thing.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing.” Hermes’s voice was rapturous.

Okay, Hermes was a nut job, apparently.

“I am here because I was impressed,” Hermes said. “You passed my test—with Nestor—and then you passed Persephone’s. Well done, the two of you. Thus I am here to give you a tip. A hint.”

“What kind?” Ares asked.

“You have entered the realm of Artemis, goddess of forests and the hunt. It will not be easy to pass through, but if you hope to make it out alive, I suggest you find her temple and make an offering.”

“A sacrifice?” Ares asked.

“Yes.”

“But not a dead animal or anything?” I shuddered.

“No. Artemis frowns on others killing the animals in her realm. She is the only huntress here.”

“Okay, then something of value,” I said.

“Exactly. And I have one more thing to assist you. Something that I gave to the hero who came before you.”

“Hercules?” Ares asked.

“Indeed.” Hermes held out his hand, and two pairs of golden, winged sandals dangled from his grip.

My heart leapt. No freaking way.

So far, being the chosen one had mostly come with a lot of danger and fear. But this? This was really cool.

“Thank you.” My voice was breathless.

“Thank me after you have learned to use them,” he said. “Because you’ll need to be skilled to escape Artemis on her hunt.”

“Oh, shit.” My skin chilled. “So, we’re looking at the deadliest game, huh?”

Hermes shrugged. “Artemis doesn’t normally make a habit of hunting people, but she doesn’t like trespassers. You must make it to her temple and leave an appropriate offering in order to avoid her wrath.”

But first we have to make it to her temple.

I took the sandals from Hermes and handed off a pair to Ares. Before we could strap them on, Hermes stepped forward and waved a hand toward us. A blast of warm, dry air rushed over me, drying my clothes instantly.

“Thanks.” I smiled.

Hermes nodded.

We put on our sandals over the tops of our boots. As soon as I’d tied the last lace, I shot straight into the air. My head bumped on a tree limb. Pain shot through me.

“Ow!”

“Careful!” Hermes called. “Envision where you want to go. Send your will to the sandals.”

I imagined fluttering lightly to the ground. I dropped suddenly, struggling to slow my descent right before I crashed. Next to me, Ares hovered effortlessly above the ground. I glared at him.

He shrugged. “Vampire reflexes.”

“I’m trying again.” This time, I wobbled slowly upward, but managed to keep from nailing the branch again.

Victory.

Hermes winced, clearly not agreeing. “Because I’d like to ensure that you complete your mission against Drakon, I will lead you to the temple of Artemis. At least that way, you can focus on your flying instead of your dragon sense.”

“Thank you!” I would take it. A guide was not to be turned down. No way.

“Just follow me, then, and avoid the arrows.”

Arrows? Shoot.

Ha. Bad pun.

Hermes launched himself into the air, gracefully ascending above the trees. I wobbled my way up to him, grateful to have Ares at my side. By the time I crested the tops of the birches, I had the hang of it. A bit. At least, I was no longer wobbling.

Hermes darted off across the treetops. I imagined following him, and my sandals complied. I zipped across the air after him.

Joy filled me as we flew toward a large white temple on a hill. It looked like the Parthenon, though we were definitely not in Athens.

By the time the sound of thudding hoofbeats sounded below, I was floating on cloud nine.

“Incoming!” Hermes shouted.

I startled, looking down. A glorious woman rode a massive steed, cantering between the trees, her bow pointed upward. Golden hair flew behind her head. An arrow flew fast and true—straight for me.

Shit!

I dodged left, barely missing the arrow and scraping against some tree branches that clawed at my hair. I righted myself, darting after Hermes and Ares. The next arrow sailed for Ares, but he nimbly dodged it.

“That’s the way!” Hermes did an excited loop-de-loop.

I struggled to keep my balance, my gaze constantly darting to Artemis on her horse. Her bow was an incredible work of art, a masterpiece.

One that was shooting straight at me.

I dodged left, hearing the arrow whistle past my ear. Sweat broke out on my skin, chilling in the breeze. I darted after the golden Hermes. The temple was only fifty yards away, now. The massive white columns gleamed in the sun.

Ares dodged another arrow, lunging high into the air. The next one came for me. Though I darted, scraping the tops of the trees, the arrowhead sliced through my arm. Pain blazed.

I ignored it, grateful that the arrow shaft wasn’t embedded in my flesh, and hurtled through the columns of the temple. I dove for the ground and rolled to a stop on the marble floor.

Hermes stood calmly after a perfect descent. So did Ares. I scrambled to my feet in the open space. The roof soared high above, but there were no walls between the massive columns that supported it.

“We’re here to make a tribute!” I called.

Hermes winced. “Not necessary to say it out loud. It is quite obvious from the fact that you are here.”

“Oh, okay.” I nodded awkwardly. “Just wanted to make sure we didn’t get shot again.”

“Again?” Ares’s sharp gaze darted over me.

I held out my arm. The arrow had sliced so cleanly through my jacket sleeve that the wound wasn’t visible underneath the leather, but it stung like the devil. “Just a flesh wound. Let’s worry about it after the tribute.”

He frowned, clearly not liking the plan, then nodded.

Good. Glad he was on board. Getting shot again was definitely a bigger threat.

I studied the open, empty space of the temple, noting the large altar on the other side. I approached it, Ares at my side. We stopped in front of it, staring at the empty space.

“Too bad there are no other tributes,” I said. “It’d be nice to have a hint.”

“Something that is valuable to you,” Hermes said. “That’s what the gods like best. Then it’s a true sacrifice.”

“Hmm, all right.” I racked my brain. “I don’t have anything of value on me right now. And if I conjure it, then it can’t be that special, can it?”

Ares shook his head. “That won’t work. But I do have my shadow sword.”

He drew it from the ether. The blade flickered with black flame.

Hermes whistled low. “That is impressive.”

“No!” I touched Ares’s arm. “You made the offering to the Hephaestus. I should do this one. Anyway, it’s my challenge.”

And he’d never be able to replace that sword. I couldn’t let him give it up.

“What if I offer to help Artemis find anything she wants—anything in the world?” I hesitated. “As soon as we’ve defeated Drakon, that is. It’d be a risk for me if she wanted something dangerous. Perhaps even deadly.”

“Hmmm.” Hermes tapped his chin.

The clip clop of horse hooves sounded, then a feminine voice. “Oh, quit trying to look thoughtful, Hermes.”

Hermes scowled, then disappeared into thin air.

I turned. Artemis rode her horse into the temple, tall and strong.

Whoa. Bad-ass.

“Would that work?” I asked. “I rarely help anyone find anything. It’s a carefully guarded skill. But I’ll do it for you, as my tribute.”

A thoughtful gleam entered Artemis’s eye. “Yes, that will do.”

She dismounted in a graceful leap, then strode toward me. Her leather armor was studded with iron. Very cool. She flicked her wrist, and a piece of parchment appeared in her hand. Then a quill.

She stopped in front of me, silver eyes assessing. Then she nodded and handed over the quill and parchment. “Your blood will act as ink.”

“Uh, sure!” Ugh, gods.

“Just press the tip to your wrist.”

Oh, man. This was dumb, wasn’t it? Making a blood vow to the gods. I steeled myself—this was necessary—and pressed the tip of the quill to my wrist. Pain flared and blood welled. The quill soaked it up. I withdrew the writing implement.

When I unrolled the parchment, I saw that my vow was already written in dark ink.

“Sign beneath.” Artemis smiled, her gaze glinting. Clearly, she was already imagining what she’d have me hunt down.

I sucked in a deep breath, ignored Ares’s worried gaze, and scrawled my signature on the parchment. I expected to have my voice sucked out of me, just like in The Little Mermaid when Ariel had signed her voice over to Ursula, the Sea Witch.

Well, this was a first. A blood oath to a god.

Oh, I was in over my head.