The Burning Maze (The Trials of Apollo #3)(69)

‘It wasn’t just that.’

‘A century ago, I dated Grand Duchess Tatiana Romanov,’ I recalled. ‘Things were great between us during the Russian Revolution. She was so stressed, so scared, she really needed me. Then the crisis passed, and the magic just wasn’t there any more. Wait, actually, that could’ve been because she was shot to death along with the rest of her family, but still –’

‘It was me.’

My thoughts had been drifting through the Winter Palace, through the acrid gun smoke and bitter cold of 1917. Now I snapped back to the present. ‘What do you mean it was you? You mean you realized you didn’t love Jason? That’s no one’s fault.’

She grimaced, as if I still hadn’t grasped what she meant … or perhaps she wasn’t sure herself.

‘I know it’s nobody’s fault,’ she said. ‘I do love him. But … like I told you, Hera forced us together – the marriage goddess, arranging a happy couple. My memories of starting to date Jason, our first few months together, were a total illusion. Then, as soon as I found that out, before I could even process what it meant, Aphrodite claimed me. My mom, the goddess of love.’

She shook her head in dismay. ‘Aphrodite pushed me into thinking I was … that I needed to …’ She sighed. ‘Look at me, the great charmspeaker. I don’t even have words. Aphrodite expects her daughters to wrap men around our little fingers, break their hearts, et cetera.’

I remembered the many times Aphrodite and I had fallen out. I was a sucker for romance. Aphrodite always had fun sending tragic lovers my way. ‘Yes. Your mother has definite ideas about how romance should be.’

‘So if you take that away,’ Piper said, ‘the goddess of marriage pushing me to settle down with a nice boy, the goddess of love pushing me to be the perfect romantic lady or whatever –’

‘You’re wondering who you are without all that pressure.’

She stared at the remains of the scarlet evening dress. ‘For the Cherokee, like traditionally speaking? Your heritage comes from your mom’s side. The clan she comes from is the clan you come from. The dad’s side doesn’t really count.’ She let out a brittle laugh. ‘Which means, technically, I’m not Cherokee. I don’t belong to any of the seven main clans, because my mom is a Greek goddess.’

‘Ah.’

‘So, I mean, do I even have that to define myself? The last few months I’ve been trying to learn more about my heritage. Picking up my granddad’s blowpipe, talking to my dad about family history to take his mind off stuff. But what if I’m not any of the things I’ve been told I am? I have to figure out who I am.’

‘Have you come to any conclusions?’

She brushed her hair behind her ear. ‘I’m in process.’

I could appreciate that. I, too, was in process. It was painful.

A line from the Joe Walsh song reverberated in my head. ‘ “Nature loves her little surprises,” ’ I said.

Piper snorted. ‘She sure does.’

I stared at the rows of Caligula’s outfits – everything from wedding gowns to Armani suits to gladiator armour.

‘It’s been my observation,’ I said, ‘that you humans are more than the sum of your history. You can choose how much of your ancestry to embrace. You can overcome the expectations of your family and your society. What you cannot do, and should never do, is try to be someone other than yourself – Piper McLean.’

She gave me a wry smile. ‘That’s nice. I like that. You’re sure you’re not the god of wisdom?’

‘I applied for the job,’ I said, ‘but they gave it to someone else. Something about inventing olives.’ I rolled my eyes.

Piper burst out laughing, which made me feel as if a good strong wind had finally blown all the wildfire smoke out of California. I grinned in response. When was the last time I’d had such a positive exchange with an equal, a friend, a kindred soul? I could not recall.

‘All right, O Wise One.’ Piper struggled to her feet. ‘We’d better go. We’ve got a lot more boats to trespass on.’

Boat forty-one: lingerie department. I will spare you the frilly details.

Boat forty-two: a regular super-yacht, with a few crew members who ignored us, two mercenaries whom Piper charmed into jumping overboard, and a two-headed man whom I shot in the groin (by pure luck) and made disintegrate.

‘Why would you put a regular boat between your clothes boats and your shoe boat?’ Piper wondered. ‘That’s just bad organization.’

She sounded remarkably calm. My own nerves were starting to fray. I felt like I was splitting into pieces, the way I used to when several dozen Greek cities all prayed for me to manifest my glorious self at the same time in different places. It’s so annoying when cities don’t coordinate their holy days.

We crossed the port side, and I caught a glimpse of movement in the sky above us – a pale gliding shape much too big to be a seagull. When I looked again, it was gone.

‘I think we’re being followed,’ I said. ‘Our friend Crest.’

Piper scanned the night sky. ‘What do we do about it?’

‘I’d recommend nothing,’ I said. ‘If he wanted to attack us or raise the alarm, he could’ve already done it.’