He chuckles. “True enough, but Iris, the sunshine and rainbows messenger of the gods herself, fearing the wrath of Zeus if the punishment he gave Phineas was annulled because of it, saved the winged menaces and helped them escape to a cave in Minoan Crete. In exchange, the exiled Phineas told Jason a safe course through those islands.”
“Hence we’re headed there, makes sense.” My arms are turning to spaghetti. How long can I hold on? I grit my teeth.
You’ve nothing to prove to him, Pell.
Whose side are you on? I ask myself.
Without warning, Harpoc dips and swings me away from his side, and I screech as my noodley arms give way. I panic and scrabble for him, for anything, to hold onto.
“Pell, I’ve got you.” A second later, I thrash, cradled in his rock-hard arms without so much as a smidge of grace. I don’t care, I go full koala, clutching his neck, my heart in my throat.
“I’ve never trusted anyone but myself,” I bite out, barely controlling my fury.
“You might try it sometime. I believe you’ll find there’s great freedom in it, Pell.” Humor plays in his voice.
I’m ready to kill him. “Warn a girl before you do something like that again.”
One of his hands starts running circles against my back, and despite the thickness of my jacket, I feel every bit of the movement. At first I arch away, but as he continues, I relax and actually lean into it, my anger abating.
I bury my forehead in his neck—he could have been a not half-bad masseuse.
At some point, I feel his nose on my head. Is he nuzzling me?
I can’t tell for sure. I don’t actually mind, but it’s a while before my heart slows. I’m still clinging to his neck, and my arms feel like lead weights with them above my head, but no way am I letting go.
Still we fly on, water below us, as far as I can see when I peek.
I bring my head up suddenly, curious to watch his wings at work. It startles him and from his sheepish look, I know he’s been nuzzling me, and butterflies start tap dancing in my stomach.
Does it mean what I think it means?
Just whoa up there, Pell. You still don’t know the man.
I might not know him… yet, but…
My inner voice groans.
What?
His wings span at least fifteen feet each and are covered in millions of onyx feathers that match the color of his hair. He brings them down in the next beat, and we lurch upward, then glide, floating on some invisible current. They’re magnificent to behold, and so close.
Held securely in his arms as I am, some of my fear ebbs, and I shift my hold of his neck to my left arm, freeing up my right.
He narrows his eyes, clearly wondering what I’m up to.
I smile as I brush hair out of my face, then reach up and run a hand along the top of a wing. Like the rest of him, it’s firm, but the feathers are so soft.
He shivers.
I grin, then run my hand across it again, to the same result. What’ll happen if I play with his hair?
“Do you mean to torment me?” He tugs me down, smiling.
I wag my brows. “Is that what I did?”
He snorts. “You know it is. Seems I need to give you something to occupy that devious mind of yours.”
I draw a hand to my chest in mock offense.
“You haven’t asked me whose secret you deciphered on the second scroll.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Crapshit. So much for distracting myself from reality with a certain sexy so-and-so.
My mouth goes dry in an instant, and I sit back in his arms, choosing to drop mine from around his neck.
He smiles at that. Yes, I’m starting to trust him.
Watch yourself, Pell.
I gather the bulk of my long hair in both hands and draw it behind my back, stalling, not that it’ll do any good.
“I’m afraid to ask. What other creature did I release?” I scrunch up my face as if that’ll make whatever he specifies any less likely to kill my ass.
“As it happens, you brought King Midas back.”
“Wait, THE King Midas? The guy whose touch turns everything to gold, King Midas?”
“The very one.”
“These secrets aren’t just those of hairy, scary beasts?” I have to be sure. It sounds too good to be true.
“’Fraid not.”
“That’s good. That’s great actually.” Lightness fills my chest.
The words I read to Jude spring back to mind. “I sought the throne when it was not mine. A willing actor played a convincing oracle. The people of Phrygia were desperate, and I lent myself as a panacea in their time of need.”
Duh, Pell, could some scary huckleberry usurp a throne?
Scary huckleberry? I roll my eyes, then refocus. “A power-hungry bastard then, I take it?”
Harpoc smiles but continues looking ahead.
All land has disappeared, and the smell of salt fills the air as Harpoc continues starring ahead not saying a word.
He’s a captive audience. Time to get back to my questions. “Was it secret magic that enabled you to speak to the sphinx in… what language was it anyway?”
A corner of his mouth hitches up, but he doesn’t reply.
“It’d be cool to have a whole host of languages at your disposal, for whatever the situation. I can see it now, you walk into a new place not knowing the language, and…” Dir di de dur. “…secret magic sniffs it out, and you rattle off a string of words.” I chuckle at my own imaginings.
A smile breaks out across his face. “That would be handy.”
But he doesn’t commit to whether secret magic
