THIRTY-ONE
RUNNING DIDN’T LAST. Between her bouts of grief, the grating pain in her chest slowed her down. But it didn’t matter. She hadn’t gotten more than a mile when Styx’s voice rose behind her.
“You gonna carry your own s**t?”
Had she known he was so close? No. Being honest, he didn’t feature in her melancholy. In such an open space, there was nowhere to run. Not that she’d be able to lose him anyway.
Stopping, fixated on the glimmer of civilization in the darkening sky, she let him come around and dump the Bergen at her feet.
“That all you have to say?” she asked.
“What do you want me to say?” he asked, still scowling. “I won’t apologize, if that’s what you’re waiting for. He would. But he’s not here.”
“Why him?”
“He was the only one Zeus would let get close. His loyalty to O
