The Search for Juno

Chapter XXII

"You can't put down selfie."

    Alex, offended, sat back in his chair. He and Conny were gathered around the distressed oak dining table, a Scrabble board between them: a sprawl of tiny wooden letters gleaming dully underneath the dirty kitchen light. "Why not?" said Alex, tugging at his key earring. "It's totally a word."

    Conny shook his head vehemently. "It's not. It's nonsensical bullshit internet lingo, is what it is."

    Conny started to knock Alex's letters from the board, but Alex swatted at his hand. "It's in the dictionary, Con. They added it in 2013. Oxford, you know. So it's official."

    Conny was still glaring at Alex, and with such undeniable wrath in his grayish eyes that it seemed like more than his tiny body could hold. Finally, Conny sighed, lowering his hand again. "Not that it matters," he said, pouting out his lips as if he were two years old, "because it's not like you're going to win."

    Alex rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't be so confident..."

    Simply, like a gentleman laying out his silverware, Conny set down one tile after the other, until miraculously, he had formed the word obsequious.

    Alex's gaze slowly rose from the board and up to his brother's beaming face.

    He said after a beat of silence, "I give up," and promptly scooted his chair back, going in search of booze.

    "Don't be like that, Alex!" Conny said, his voice unusually peppy. "It's not over yet."

    "It may as well be," Alex called. The liquor cabinet was beside the pantry; Alex rifled through it, glass clinking against glass, until he recovered a three-quarters full bottle of brandy. "It was over before it began. You knew I couldn't beat you, you conniving little bastard."

    Conny leaned his elbows upon the table, resting his chin in his hands. "Considering we're twins, if I'm a bastard, wouldn't that also make you a bastard?"

    Alex scoffed. "Don't be a smart-ass—"

    "Boys, boys!" It was Artemis, manifesting suddenly at the kitchen island and giving Alex a jolt so bad he nearly dropped his drinking glass. "What's all this commotion?"

    "Conny's being a jackass," said Alex, at the same time that Conny said, "Alex's being a baby."

    The two glared at each other for second longer before the goddess cleared her throat. "Where's June?" she demanded, easing down on a barstool in a single fluid, graceful motion that made Alex's eye twitch. "I can't stand the company of just men. She, at least, makes you both tolerable."

    Conny's eyes darted away. "She announced she was bored and then walked out. I couldn't care less where she is."

    "Mm." Artemis narrowed her eyes. "Sounds like you could, though."

    Conny's face flushed a brilliant shade of pink, his fingers fiddling at the collar of his turtleneck. "I don't know what you mean—"

    "Artemis," Alex said then, sparing Conny any further embarrassment. In all honesty, if Conny sputtered any longer, Alex was worried he would run out of breath. "Perfect timing, actually. Do you mind if I ask you something?"

    Artemis shifted her arctic gaze from Conny to Alex. "If it's a stupid question," she said to him, "then yes. I do mind."

    Alex lifted his glass to his lips, hesitated, then took a slow, careful sip. "It's about Juno."

    Something in Artemis's eyes burst alive if only for a moment, a new and urgent flame.

    Alex would have to tread carefully. "You say she killed Poseidon."