Dax turns off the screen of his computer and swivels in his chair to greet me. He’s wearing one of his ridiculous elbow-patched sweaters. “Now, son. What’s all this bother?” he says in an exaggerated Yorkshire accent. I shut the door firmly behind me before ripping into him.

“Why did you send me into that party blind?” I say. “You’re supposed to be my guide. So why didn’t you tell me your Boon was the mayor’s daughter, that I’m attending school with her brother? Don’t you think these are important things for me to know?”

“Haden,” he says, dropping the accent. “I told you. I cannot speak of this to you.”

“But this affects me, Dax. It’s jeopardizing my quest. This Tobin kid is on to us. He’s determined to find out what happened to his sister, and he’s not going to stop until he does. How am I supposed to get Daphne to trust me if Tobin is filling her head with vitriol, all because of the mistakes you made?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Dax says.

“How?”

“Keep your voice down.”

“How?”

He slams his open palm on his desk. “I don’t know! I just will.”

I take a step back. “Why won’t you just tell me what happened?”

Dax stands. “I cannot.” His nostrils flare and he takes a deep breath, as if fighting from saying more. His meaning sinks in. He’s made an unbreakable oath. When he says he cannot, he means it would be physically impossible.

But who could compel him to do such a thing?

“If you value our friendship,” he says. “If I mean anything to you, you will stop being selfish for once in your life and listen to me when I ask you not to speak of this again. The consequences for me would be far greater than anything you can imagine.”

I nod and pull open the door. I leave the office more confused than ever. But I have to go. Because the one thing I need to ask him I can’t:

If Dax had returned alone to the Underrealm six years ago, but this Abbie girl still went missing, then what in the name of Hades had happened to her that he had sworn to never speak of again?

If it hadn’t been for the conversation I’d overheard between Daphne and Tobin in the hallway, I might think she is starting to like me, because she keeps glancing back at me during humanities class. Instead, she’s probably just trying to figure out whether or not I can be related to a kidnapper. Or worse.

I keep my face blank and pretend to be absorbed in the text of my book. When the bell rings, she stays in her seat instead of hurrying off to her next class. Is she waiting for me to leave? I pick up my book and head out the door. She follows a few seconds later.

I keep my pace slow so she won’t lose me in the crowded hallway. When I get to my next class, I duck behind the door. She stands there for a few minutes, satisfied that I’m where I’m supposed to be. I watch her turn and walk back in the opposite direction.

So she’s stalking me now?

I almost smile at the thought.

“You like her,” someone says.

I turn and find Lexie standing behind me, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Two of her friends flank her on each side. They remind me of miniature versions of Rowan and his cronies—but with matching shoes and coordinated skirts.

“Pardon?” I ask.

“You like Daphne. I can tell from the way you look at her.”

“I do not.”

“You do. I heard the way you two talked the other night. It’s obvious you’re jonesing for her.”

“I am not,” I say, not even sure what she means.

“You are. Heaven only knows why. But I’m feeling generous, so I’m going to offer you a little advice.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Listen, I don’t know what exactly happened Friday night, and I am not too keen on trying to remember, but I’m pretty sure I owe you for helping me home, and I don’t like being in anyone’s debt. So I am going to do you a little favor by offering a little womanly advice. You want Daphne to like you, yes?”

I clear my throat. “Perhaps.”

“Then ask her to help you with your performance for the Light-up Olympus Festival. Maybe suggest a duet? All that one-on-one time, working together—it’ll work like a charm.”

I consider her idea for a moment. It sounds exactly like something Dax would suggest.

“What if she doesn’t say yes?”

“She will,” Lexie says. “Trust me. I’ve seen the way she looks back at you.”

I’m not so sure about this assertion of hers but I nod and thank her for her advice. “One more thing,” I say as she and her lackeys start to head to their desks. “If you really want to be square with me, then you need to do me one more favor.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “What’s that?”

“Stop shunning Daphne.”

“That’s a big request. I’m not sure you have the bargaining power for it.”

“Suit yourself,” I say. “But you should see it more as me doing you another favor. If Daphne’s dad is in charge of writing the play and there are still several parts to be doled out, don’t you think you should be a little nicer to the one student who might be able to pull some influence on your behalf? I think you’d make an excellent queen of the underworld, don’t you?”

Her nostrils flare almost imperceptibly, and I know she sees my point, whether she wants to or not.

“Besides, if you owe anyone anything after Friday night, it’s her.”

Lexie uncrosses her arms. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

Chapter thirty-four

DAPHNE

I can’t find Tobin in the cafeteria, so I carry my lunch tray out to the courtyard. I sit under a statue of some Greek poet or whatever. I pull out the stack of homework I’m supposed to finish in order to catch up on the three weeks of classes I missed at the beginning of the year. Between that, rehearsing for the play, my current course load, and now Tobin’s “investigation,” I am starting to feel a bit underwater.

I try a couple of math problems and then give up. Instead, I pull out a notebook, and decide to make my own dossier of things I know about Haden Lord.

Name: Haden Lord.

Age: 16? 17?

Hair: Dark brown, almost black

Eyes: Jade green (but sometimes look like they have bright amber rings around the pupils?)