It doesn’t matter why he’s here, only that he is. I sit back on my heels and look around. We explored the library briefly this morning, but it’s just like every other personal library I’ve visited. It’s relatively subdued compared to the rest of the house, a reasonably sized room with dark bookshelves and several cozy overstuffed couches arranged around a large bay window. It’s probably a lovely place to spend an afternoon.
There’s also nothing sharp to accidentally stumble and fall against. Not to mention Pan’s wound is on the back of his head, as if someone clubbed him when he wasn’t looking. But what…
“Apollo?”
I look up to see Eurydice standing on the other side of the chair, a marble tortoise held in her hands, blood spattered across its carved back. “I found this under my chair. Tucked away as if someone tried to hide it fast.”
It’s all the proof we need.
Someone tried to kill Pan.
24
Cassandra
Things happen quickly after that. Most of the rest of the guests appear in a group, and under different circumstances, I might be amused by the sheer chaos of half a dozen members of the Thirteen trying to take charge of the situation.
Hard to be amused about anything when I’m watching Pan’s back to ensure he hasn’t stopped breathing.
I liked the cheerful man. I desperately want him to be okay.
Minos sweeps in five minutes later with two men in nondescript uniforms who might be paramedics, but they’re not dressed like any I’ve ever seen. He stops short and looks down at Pan.
My adrenaline is surging. I can’t stop shaking. It’s almost enough for me to miss the pure fury on his face. He masks it quickly. I’m sure I’m the only one who witnessed it, kneeling at Pan’s side as I am.
Minos snaps his fingers. “Stop bickering. We need to help this man.” He motions to the two men who accompanied him. “Get a stretcher and prepare him for the ambulance. It should be here shortly.”
The impulse to throw myself over Pan’s body so they won’t take him is nearly overwhelming. Someone attacked this man, and the only reason he was here in the first place is because Minos invited him. No one else at this party wants Pan dead…
Do they?
I look helplessly at Apollo. He’s got his expression locked down tight. He circles around and cups my elbow, guiding me to my feet. “Let the medics help, Cassandra.”
“If they hurt him—”
“They won’t.” He says it loud enough that everyone stops arguing and looks at him. “Pan is a friend. A number of people in this room—and beyond—would take it amiss if anything happened to him.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to snarl that something already happened to him, but if Apollo can assure no one finishes the job, that’s the only thing that matters.
“Of course.” Minos smiles, all charming host once more. “He’s under my hospitality.”
“Not that that helped him,” I mutter. “He was attacked while under your hospitality.”
The medics make quick work of getting Pan onto a stretcher and whisking him out of the room. Once he’s gone, we’re left staring at each other with an increasing amount of distrust. Pan didn’t slip and fall on the stone sculpture. Someone hit him with it.
Someone likely in this room.
Eurydice opens her mouth, expression still distraught, but before she can say anything, Aphrodite storms through the door. She takes in the scene with a single sweep. “Why does everyone look like their favorite dog got kicked?”
“Pan—”
The door opens again behind Aphrodite, cutting Eurydice off a second time, and in walks Theseus with his arm slung around Adonis’s shoulders. Adonis has his smile firmly in place, and not even I can tell if it’s fake or not. Ah. That explains the fury in Aphrodite’s eyes.
Theseus doesn’t immediately release him. “Adonis won.”
“Wonderful. Let’s take a quick break to, ah, deal with a few things.” Minos looks around the room. “We’ll rejoin for dinner.”
“Rejoin for dinner,” Eurydice repeats. She takes a step forward, ignoring the light touch Charon places on her arm. “You can’t honestly expect us to ignore what happened to Pan. I thought he was dead.”
“He’s not dead,” Minos says mildly. “He was drinking with Dionysus during lunch. He obviously tripped over the rug and injured himself.”
I blink. Surely they’re not going to buy that? It doesn’t make the slightest bit of sense.
Dionysus chooses that moment to hiccup. “He was putting it away. Chap can drink me under the table.”
I glare at Hermes, but she’s got a small smile on her face and, for once, apparently has nothing to say. Aphrodite props her hands on her hips. “Someone explain what happened.”
“I just did, my dear.” Minos moves to the door, stepping easily over the bloodstain. “Shall we?” He walks out without another word.
Theseus tightens his grip on Adonis’s shoulders and steers him after his foster father. It’s at that moment that I realize no one else in Minos’s household is in the room.
One of them was responsible.
Except we have no way to prove it. It can’t be Ariadne. There’s no way she got downstairs in time to attack Pan…but she’s the only one I can safely mark off the list of suspects. I step back and take Apollo’s hand. “We should call Ares. That wasn’t an accident; it was attempted murder.”
Charon shakes his head slowly. “No way to prove it.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“There’s no way to prove it,” he repeats patiently. “They will come in and the first thing they’ll do is sweep for prints. Do you know whose prints are on that tortoise?”
Eurydice’s.
Apollo sighs. “There might be others.”
“It will muddy the water.” He turns to Eurydice. “We can leave if you want. I don’t think we’re going to find the answers we’re looking for here.”
Her lower lip quivers, but she makes an obvious effort to still it. “I’m fine. There’s no reason to leave. Not until you’ve accomplished what you set out to.”
That all but confirms my suspicions that Charon is here on a fact-finding mission for Hades, the same way we are for Zeus. It’s a small blessing that Hades, at least, isn’t looking to ally himself with Minos. I can’t say the same for the others, except Aphrodite.
“Eurydice—”
“Would you leave if I wasn’t here?” His silence is answer enough. She turns to the rest of us. “Are you leaving?”
“Nope.” Hermes laughs. “This is just getting interesting.”
Dionysus shrugs. “He’s got good wine.” His normal good cheer is nowhere in evidence, though. If anything, he looks far sicker than alcohol can explain.
I cannot believe what I’m hearing. They should all be heading for the front door. Instead, they’re…staying. “You’re serious. Someone just tried to kill Pan and you’re just going to stick around and wait to give them another shot? And what about Atalanta and Tyche? That’s three people.”