She blocked the glare of the sun with her hand as she pushed the heavy door open and stepped into the great hall. No sound met her ears, so she figured that meant Demetrius wasn’t anywhere close. Which was a good thing. She most definitely didn’t want to talk to him, now or ever, if she could avoid it.
Pebbles pushed into the soles of her bare feet, but after several days on this island walking around barefoot, she was getting used to the pain. Moving onto the front steps of the ruins, she scanned the horizon. Any temples are going to be built on higher ground, farther inland. That made sense. Early dwellers would have wanted their temples as close to Olympus as possible, just as Demetrius had said. A sliver of pain sliced through her heart at the thought of him but she pushed it away, pulled up her temper instead. It, if nothing else, was the fuel she needed to get through this day.
She stepped onto the grassy soil and pulled up short when she heard a voice. A vaguely familiar voice, calling from the bottom of the hill.
She squinted. Tried to see through the bright morning sunlight, then gasped when she caught sight of Gryphon climbing the slope steadily toward her.
Gryphon. No. It couldn’t be. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been…
Bare feet forgotten, she took off running down the hillside. The dagger slapped at her hip. The small bag of rocks in her pocket jostled against her thigh as she jumped over stones and twigs sticking out of the ground. Excitement bubbled up in her chest because they weren’t on this island alone after all. Gryphon was here. Gryphon was alive!
She pulled up short just before she reached him. Breathed deep and smiled wide. She wanted to throw herself into his arms, but she didn’t want to knock him backward down the hill or shock the hell out of him. He was used to the shy, reserved, docile princess, not the take-charge female she’d become.
Her chest rose and fell as she worked to slow her breathing. She took in his white shirt, not the slightest bit dirty, his crisp pants, and shiny black boots. And her smile faltered when she focused on his face—his windswept blond hair, his clean skin and natural coloring, not tan like Demetrius or sunburned like her. He looked like he’d just stepped off a boat onto the island, wasn’t the least bit worn and frazzled from days stranded here.
“Gryphon,” she said when she found her voice. “What—? How did you—?”
“There you are, Princess. I’ve been looking for you.”
Her eyes narrowed. He sounded the same, looked the same, but something was off. Something she couldn’t quite pin down. A trickle of wariness coursed through her veins. “How did you get here? What happened to—?”
“I came through the portal.”
“Portal? You came through a portal? Onto this island?”
“Yes.” He held out his hand. “Come with me and I will take you there.”
That wariness kicked up a notch. “Why can’t you just open a portal home right here?”
He glanced to his right. “Something about this island…interferes with my abilities.”
Okay, that made sense. Demetrius had said this place was as screwy as the Bermuda Triangle. And considering Demetrius couldn’t open a portal, it made sense Gryphon wouldn’t be able to either. A little of her anxiety eased, but not completely. “How far is it?”
“Not far. Come with me.”
He motioned, and her eyes cut to his hands. Big, strong, guardian hands. They were the same hands he’d used to unchain her from that bar in Thrace Castle where the witches had strung her up, and yet…something still felt off. Her gaze slid to his face. To his eyes. To his blue eyes that seemed brighter than before.
“What the hell…?”
She flinched at the sound of Demetrius’s voice. Her heart rate kicked up and a flutter lit off deep in her chest. But instead of the rush of warmth his voice had elicited the past few days, today all the sound did was blast a hole the size of a crater in her stomach.
She clenched her jaw. Pushed down the humiliation and pulled up her anger. He’d made it more than clear how he felt about her: he didn’t. And she wasn’t about to play the blithering idiot, especially not in front of Gryphon.
She squared her shoulders. “I’m definitely ready to go home, Gryphon. Let’s go.”
But Gryphon was no longer focused on her. His gaze skipped past her to land on Demetrius. And something hard settled in his eyes as he focused on the Argonaut at her back.
“Gryphon,” Demetrius said with what Isadora knew was also a hint of wariness. He stopped just to her right. And it was all she could do not to turn and glare at him. “How the hell did you get here?”
Gryphon’s gaze shifted to her, then back to Demetrius. “I’ve been looking for the princess.”
“You? Where are the others?”
Silence. Then, “Also looking. I came across a daemon who told me where to find her.”
“A daemon?” Isadora asked. That wasn’t right. How would a daemon know they were here? Demetrius had told her some kind of signal had crossed when he’d opened the portal from that field. Instead of taking them home, it had landed them here by mistake.
Gryphon’s bright blue eyes shifted her way, but before he could answer, Demetrius said, “The Argonauts are here? On this island?”
“No,” Gryphon answered, swinging his gaze back to Demetrius. “But I’m sure they will be quite pleased when I return with the princess.”
Demetrius was silent beside Isadora. From the corner of her eye she saw his clenched jaw, his scrutinizing dark eyes. He wasn’t happy Gryphon was here. Was it because he knew she was going to leave with the blond Argonaut and he was upset he wouldn’t have another chance to belittle her? Or was there something else going on?
“Come, Princess,” Gryphon said, holding out his hand to her again. Only this time his eyes never left Demetrius. “The portal is waiting.”
“Isadora—”
Yeah. Like she was about to listen to Demetrius? Not a chance. She stepped toward Gryphon, but she didn’t take his hand. “I’m ready.”
“Isadora,” Demetrius said again. “Wait—”
“No, thank you,” she tossed over her shoulder as she brushed past Gryphon and headed down the hillside. “I’m done waiting. Really done waiting. Especially for you.”
Demetrius didn’t answer. And she didn’t bother to look back to see his expression. But she was almost sure she heard a soft chuckle at her back. One that definitely hadn’t come from Demetrius’s mouth.
Something wasn’t right.
Forget the fact Gryphon had been near dead the last time Demetrius had seen him. Forget the fact there was no way Theron would ever have sent him off to search for Isadora alone. Forget even that there was something freakin’ wrong with Gryphon’s eyes and his speech pattern was off, like he was trying too hard to sound normal. What stuck like a burr in Demetrius’s brain was the knowledge there was no way in Hades a daemon would know the location of Pandora, except maybe the archdaemon, Atalanta’s right-hand monster. And he sure as shit wouldn’t give it up unless he was on death’s doorstep.
One Argonaut alone couldn’t overpower the archdaemon. He was too big, too strong, and with enhanced abilities from Atalanta, not a simple grunt that could be easily taken down. Gryphon showed no signs of battle, not even a scratch. And he claimed a daemon had simply told him where they’d been sent? Demetrius wasn’t buying it. Not for a minute.