The Search for Juno

Chapter XXXVI

Angie was surprised and a bit indignant at how chill Alex and Conny were about walking through a literal flame—Artemis poofed one into existence for them, it was hot and smoke-scented and everything, so it should have terrified them as it much had her—but she didn't have much time to care. As far as Angie was concerned, every hour that passed was another hour Hermes could be getting further away, whether physically or emotionally. She could not afford to wait any longer.

Being in the cave once again should have frightened her. There was scarcely any light, the jagged rocks and stalactites encased in inky shadow, no sound but the group's mingling breaths and the faint dripping of water from somewhere above their heads.

A beam of white light flared behind Angie, and she jolted. Behind her, Alex held up his cell phone, flashlight on. "What?" he said, when he realized Angie was glaring at him. "I can barely see anything. It's freaking me out."

Angie ignored him, instead turning to Clio, whose face was pearly and wan in the lurid light. "Stay here," Angie told her, taking the nymph's hand. "I'll go talk to Hephaestus and I'll be back in just a second."

Clio's eyes went round, her hand clammy against Angie's. "Are you sure? I mean why—why do you have to go by yourself, all of a sudden?"

Angie shot a furtive glance towards the twins, who both seemed too absorbed in some gimmicky app on Alex's phone to notice. "You know how Hephaestus reacts to strangers," she answered, turning back to Clio. "Especially mortal ones. So would you keep an eye on them for me? Make sure they don't do anything stupid."

Clio started to reply, but Conny cleared his throat. "I heard that," he said with a frown, fussing at the sling around his shoulder.

"Good," said Angie, voice echoing back at them as she turned, ambling further into the cave. "Don't do anything stupid, then."

The closer she got to Hephaestus's den, the more her nerves began to hum beneath her skin. I shouldn't be nervous, she told herself. I've met him before. I shouldn't be nervous.

But she was nervous anyway. This meeting, after all, was within an entirely different context than before. She knew so much more now—about who she was, about where she came from. Now that knowledge loomed before her like some impenetrable wall.

The flickering light from the hearth painted the cave walls gold, the eerie silence interrupted every so often with rhythmic dinks, like the strike of a metal drum. Angie stopped walking, and took a breath. She waited until her pulse nearly matched the metal strikes before she turned the corner.

She was in awe again, at the mallets and hammers and clamps that dangled from the walls in a neat yet chaotic array, at the work table decorated with piles of scrap metal like some abstract tactile collage. Behind the table, crouched low over the hearth, was Hephaestus, the back of his shirt stained with grease and sweat.

Angie barely had time to think of what to say before he said: "I know why you're here."

Angie fought back a jolt of surprise, stepping further into the room. "You do?"

Hephaestus turned, mopping away a smear of oil beneath his eyepatch with his sleeve. His face was gentle, the barest of smiles ghosting his mouth. It was strange, so strange, but Angie could have sworn at that moment that she'd known this man all her life.

Angie sighed, bracing herself against the work table. "Did you know?"

Hephaestus shrugged. "When I met you, I suspected," he answered, "but leave it to Hades to figure it out for sure. He has a much sharper intuition for these sorts of things, after all."