ABOVE THE GODS

FORTY-THREE

VERONICA FELT LIKE A VIDEO GAME CHARACTER when she all but rematerialized out of nothing.

Riding the wind and being the wind were two totally different things, she found out. When she rode the wind, she felt one-hundred percent in control. However, being the wind, she felt she had no control whatsoever.

She figured it was because it was someone else turning her into the wind but she would never find out.

As the West Wind carried them into the sky above Split, she was sure she could feel Jason and Nico's presence nearby. It made sense, especially if they were traveling together.

Together they raced over the hills, past Roman aqueducts, highways, and vineyards. As they approached the mountains, Veronica could see the ruins of a Roman town spread out in a valley below--crumbling walls, square foundations, and cracked roads, all overgrown with grass—so it looked like a giant, mossy game board.

Favonius set them down in the middle of the ruins, next to a broken column the size of a redwood.

Veronica's body re-formed. She rolled her shoulders back to prevent the lead overcoat feeling she knew Jason was feeling. Veronica would compare it to dismounting from a gymnastics trick incorrectly. She didn't want all her own weight to come back and hit herself with full force.

"Yes, mortal bodies are terribly bulky," Favonius said. The wind god settled on a nearby wall with his basket of fruit and spread his russet wings in the sun. "Honestly, I don't know how you stand it, day in and day out."

Veronica didn't know how she stood it either.

Veronica scanned their surroundings. The town must have been huge once. She could make out the shells of templed and bathhouses, a half-buried amphitheater, and empty pedestals that must have once held statues. Rows of columns marched off to nowhere. The old city walls wove in and out of the hillside like stone thread through green cloth.

Some areas looked like they'd been excavated, but most of the city just seemed abandoned, as if it had been left to the elements for the last two thousand years.

"Welcome to Salona," Favonius said. "Capital of Dalmatia! Birthplace of Diocletian! But before that, long before that, it was the home of Cupid."

Veronica noted how the name echoed. It was as if voices were whispering it through the ruins.

Something about this place seemed even creepier than the palace basement in Split. Lately, Veronica had been thinking about Cupid. She chalked it up to Aphrodite's nighttime visit. She'd certainly never thought of Cupid as scary but she knew what he was capable of.

"Oh, he'd not like that," said Favonius.

Jason flinched. "You can read my mind?"

"I don't need to," Favonius tossed his bronze hoop in the air. "Everyone has the wrong impression of Cupid... until they meet him."

When Favonius sent a pointed look in Veronica's direction. She turned her head to avoid his gaze.

Instead, she watched as Nico braced himself against a column, his legs trembling visibly.

"Hey, man..." Jason stepped toward him, but Nico waved him off.

At Nico's feet, the grass turned brown and wilted. The dead patch spread outward, as if poison were seeping from the soles of his shoes.

"Ah..." Favonius nodded sympathetically. "I don't blame you for being nervous, Nico di Angelo. Do you know how I ended up serving Cupid?"

"I don't serve anyone," Nico muttered. "Especially not Cupid."