The goddess’s expression didn’t soften, but turned contemplative as she studied Lore. When she spoke again, the words were calm and measured. “Are you frightened of him?”

“No,” Lore said. “I—”

“Your fear will feed him,” Athena told her. “It will bring him pleasure. Do not grant it. He is as mortal as you these next six days. If you falter again, remember what he took from you. He may possess power, but you have righteousness. And should even that abandon you, remember that I am beside you, and I will not let you fail.”

Lore tried to gather some response. Seeing Wrath coming toward her, knowing that he’d recognized her—it had sent a wave of doubt crashing through her confidence. It wasn’t that she wanted his death any less. It had been the sudden, hard realization of what the Agon might ask of her to see his death through.

I can still get back out again, she told herself. I’m not doing the killing. This is an end, not a beginning.

“We need to meet the others,” Lore said. “Is the street clear?”

“Yes,” Athena said. “I will carry the girl.”

Lore passed Iro over to her, and Athena stepped out into the darkness.

Lore lingered a moment, taking in the sight, and tried to remember what it felt like to be unafraid.

The address Van had given her and Castor before they’d split up turned out to be for a laundromat about twenty blocks north, in Hell’s Kitchen.

They approached the waiting side door, letting the heat from the vents wash over them. The air was choked with the smell of detergent.

Lore blinked against the fluorescent lights as they stepped inside, but Athena had already pivoted toward the sound of a familiar voice.

Miles leaned against a desk in the laundromat’s cramped office, his face animated as he chatted in Korean with the gray-haired woman there. But when he spotted them, his expression fell.

“What happened?” he asked. “Where are the others? Who is that? Why are you late?”

“Which question do you want answered first?” Lore asked, tired.

The older woman sighed and stood from her chair. She switched off the monitor on her ancient computer, pulled her purse out of the drawer, and said, “I’ll close for the night. Tell Evander to leave payment in the safe and vary the bills this time.”

She shuffled off, and within seconds, the lights across the laundromat dimmed. Only a few machines were still churning as she stepped out and locked the door behind her.

“Look at you, making friends wherever you go,” Lore said as Athena lowered Iro into the room’s other chair. The goddess stepped away, allowing Lore to feel for Iro’s pulse and try to rouse her.

“Exactly how hard did you hit her?” Lore asked. Iro had been unconscious for almost twenty minutes.

“Who was that woman?” Athena demanded, ignoring her question.

“Mrs. Cheong,” Miles said. “Really sweet lady. She told me I reminded her of her grandson, with all my tattoos.” He took a breath and nodded at Iro’s limp form. “Okay, tell me who this is.”

“Iro of the Odysseides,” Lore told him. “Daughter of Heartkeeper.”

Miles gave them a pained look. “Why do I get the feeling things didn’t go as planned?”

“The short version?” Lore began, leaning against the wall. Her body was quivering as it tried to regroup after the strain of carrying Iro. “Wrath is alive and Heartkeeper is dead and Iro may know the alternate poem or where to find it.”

The side door creaked open again. Athena was out of the office with her dory against the newcomer’s throat before Lore could even draw her next breath.

Van held up his hands. “Is everyone here?”

Athena lowered her weapon, stepping aside to allow him to pass. “The false Apollo is yet to come.”

Van looked less troubled by that fact than Lore was. He stopped in the doorway, taking in the sight of Miles. His lips compressed, but he said nothing as he studied him.

“Yup, still alive,” Miles told him in an uncharacteristically sardonic way. He picked up the plain black backpack at his feet and shoved it at Van with some effort. Van’s arms bowed slightly under the weight.

“Your contact was a real gent,” Miles continued. “He only called me ‘Unblooded trash’ twice, but still said he preferred dealing with me to you.”

“Possibly because you don’t hold the key to his eternal shame,” Van said.

“Mrs. Cheong wants her money,” Miles reminded him. “And for you to vary the bills. Says you’re a good business partner, whatever that means.”

“It means I know how much to pay to ensure she forgets everything she sees and hears,” Van said.

He unzipped the bag and dumped out its contents onto the floor of the cramped office. Lore jumped as at least three dozen stacks of hundred- and twenty-dollar bills hit the tile. He gripped the laptop at the bottom before it could slide out with them.

Lore covered one stack with her foot and attempted to slide it over to herself unnoticed.

“Nice try,” Van said. “We’re going to need this money to survive the week.” He retrieved two stacks and turned to the safe beneath the desk, where he deposited them. “Did you run into any trouble?”

“Just a few weird looks when I insisted on that particular karaoke room and then didn’t stay to sing more than one Whitney Houston song,” Miles said.

There was a spark of something to his words—an exhilaration, like a kid who had just gotten away with breaking the rules for the first time. His eyes were bright, almost feverish at the memory, and his cheeks flushed the way they always did when he was excited.

Van’s hands stilled over the pile of money. His tone turned accusatory. “There’s almost three thousand dollars missing. Did you buy something on your joy ride?”

“Yeah, I stopped to treat myself to a nice meal,” Miles sniped back. “I’m not a thief. He had another bit of information, but he wanted more for it.”

“And you gave it to him?” Van snapped. “Without bothering to check in with me? He probably sold you a lie—”

“All you got was confirmation that the Kadmides bought a new property on Central Park South, and that they bought it using a shell corporation,” Miles said. “What I got him to tell me was that the new Dionysus, the Reveler, was allied with Wrath and had been working with him and the Kadmides since the last Agon. But the Reveler fled at the start of this year’s hunt and hasn’t come back. Wrath’s after him now, too.”