That too, she says, you shall see. Soon. Until then . . .

All right. If the voice in my head isn’t going to help, then I’ll figure it out on my own.

Well, at face value, it means we shouldn’t do this by ourselves. It means we shouldn’t face the coming war without help. The three of us can’t do it alone—not facing all the enemies who are out to stop us, one way or another.

We need as many friends on our side as we can get.

The gorgons are gathering our allies, but what if they aren’t enough? If I stop too long to think about the odds against us, I’ll crumble.

This is the absolute worst time for Thane to take off. I don’t care if he’s upset or pouting or beating himself up for everything he’s ever done. We need him, and he bailed.

Unacceptable.

I smack my palms on the table. “Enough.”

I’m all for him taking a little while to pull himself together, especially after something big like seeing the girl he likes die or telling his sister he was sent to kill her. Thane gets a little leeway for that. But we’re in the middle of epic things right now, and we don’t have time to indulge in self-pity. We don’t have time to indulge in anything.

None of us do.

There are too many things—too many gods and monsters—working against us. We need to be gathering numbers, not letting them spread out.

I turn my attention on Gretchen.

“You should go find Nick.”

“What?” she asks, twisting her head and gaping at me like I’m a talking dog.

“We might need him,” I explain, “and you obviously care about him.”

“I—”

“Don’t deny it. We can all see it.” Now that I’ve started, I’m gathering steam. I resist the urge to pat her hand. “I saw the look on your face as he got dragged into the abyss. I saw you dive in after him without a moment’s hesitation.”

“We needed him.”

“You needed him,” I correct. “You still do.”

She stares at her hands. I wonder what she sees there—the hands of a girl who’s hunted more monsters than she can count? Or the hands of a girl who cares about a boy more than she’d like to admit, even to herself?

“If it were me or Grace,” I say, “you wouldn’t stop until you’d found us.”

“It’s not you,” she argues.

“He’s just as much a part of this,” I continue. “Only he’s in it by choice, which makes him all the more valuable.”

She finally lifts her head, and the look in her eyes is a tumultuous mix of hope and fear, doubt and certainty. For someone like Gretchen, with her history, the kind of emotion she feels for Nick is dangerous, a liability. But she’s tempted.

One little push could send her over the edge.

I think a little subtle manipulation is called for here.

If she thinks I had a vision about Nick, implying that I’ve already seen how important he will be, then maybe she’ll stop fighting her feelings and go after him. Besides, how do I know that we don’t need him? He could be the crucial piece to the final puzzle.

“We still need him,” I say, choosing my words carefully. I casually rub my finger across my temple. “He’s important.”

She scowls at me, and at first I think I’ve gone too far. She looks angry, like she might shove back from the table and storm away.

Then she shocks the sugar out of me by saying, “I know.”

“You do?” I flinch, then regroup and say, “Good.”

“But I don’t even know where to start.” She tilts back in her chair. “He could be anywhere. He could be—”

She shakes her head, not willing to say her worst fear out loud.

“Hey, girls,” Grace says, returning to the dining room. She and Cassandra are carrying trays of drinks and sandwiches. “Lunch is served.”

While Grace hands out the drinks, Cassandra sets a plate before each of us. Sillus grabs a sandwich and takes a giant bite.

“You said you met the boss guy before, right?” I ask Gretchen.

Grace freezes, her glass halfway to her lips.

“Well, did you”—I’m not sure how to say this without sounding disgusting, so I just say it—“smell him?”

Gretchen frowns for a second, like she’s not sure why I would ask such an odd question. “Yeah. I did.”

“What are you talking about?” Grace sets her glass back on the table.

“Who’s the boss?” Cassandra asks.

Grace turns to her. “A bad guy. A really bad guy.”

Cassandra makes a pained face.

“Can’t you track him, then?” I ask Gretchen. “Sniff him out like a monster?”

She drops her chair back down on four legs. “Never had to pick out a specific scent before. I’ve always just followed whatever beastie stink was in the air at the moment. It’s worth a shot.”

“Um, why are we tracking the boss?” Grace asks.

“Gretchen’s going to save Nick,” I say.

“Really?” Grace cheers, sitting up straighter in her chair.

Gretchen mutters, “I’m going to try.”

“Who’s Nick?” Cassandra asks, and Grace leans over and whispers in her ear. A proud smile spreads across her lips. “You should definitely rescue him, then.”

“Right,” Grace says. “Let’s get started.”