Page 139 of Blood of Olympus

“Yes,” I said simply, surprising him. “But I intend to offer you a bargain for doing so.”

Skepticism pulled at his features, already shoving him toward refusal before he’d even heard the terms of my deal.

“Before you say no, think about the one thing you want most in this world.”

“The one thing I want is no longer in this world.”

I levelled him with my gaze, allowing him to see the truth in it. “In exchange for joining us in this war and using your power however I, or my council, deem fit, I will bring her back.”

“You—” he blurted, gaze darkening. “Your father once promised me the same. Why should your promise end any differently?”

“Because my promise is not contingent on you avoiding temptation — we all know how vices go, and she was one of yours. My promise is contingent only on you giving in to your power and using it for something greater than derelict taverns.”

“Greatness has not been my ambition for a long time,” Orpheus grumbled, staring at the painting of the spider.

“Whether it is or isn’t, is irrelevant. I only care that you try. Sing them to sleep, coax them immobile — whatever the scenario calls for in the end, I only want your aid. With you, Orpheus, we have a chance to halt them with minimal cost of lives.”

He turned back to me, eyes brighter — barely daring to hope. “How would you bring her back?”

“Leave the how to me. If you help us, when we win, I will bring Eurydice’s soul back to you.”

His gaze flitted over every inch of my face searching in earnest for the deception; his tongue flicking at his lower lip like he could taste a lie on the air. “Unharmed?”

It took every ounce of self-control not to roll my eyes. “Unharmed.”

“Swear it.”

“Upon the River Styx, I swear to you, Orpheus, that if you help us win this war, I will retrieve, for you, Eurydice’s unharmed soul.”

That seemed to mollify him. He nodded once then dropped his head, drawing shallow breaths. His hands, clenched into fists, trembled at his sides. A heartbeat later, he hunched over as if an invisible string tied to his neck were pulling him toward the ground. With his head wedged between his knees, Orpheus clawed for every breath — every inhale rasping, sharp, and broken.

Having been in the exact same position too many times to count, I knew the onset of a panic attack when I saw one. Orpheus needed something to snap him out of it before it could really take hold.

Disinclined to embrace a strange man, I did the next best thing.

The melody dropped from my lips like ink spilling into clear water, and Orpheus latched onto the sound like his life depended on it.

Perhaps, it did.

Memories linger in the halls,

Ghosts in different shades of grey,

They’re stories on your tongue,

Songs you’ve already sung,

Debts you wish you still had to pay.

Our hearts are beating like drums,

And veins are playing like strings,

If love is a melody,

Ours was a symphony,

And your dirge left me choking on rings.