Trapped

to run for the British Isles, Siodhachan—and I mean literally run all the way there. It’s the only path I’ve seen where you live through this. «
    » Live through what? «
    » You’ll see. The ankle-winged boys are coming to tell you now. « The crow tossed its beak at something behind us. We turned and looked up.
    Hermes and Mercury descended from the sky, pale savage beauty paired with golden pomposity, and the Roman demanded to know what I had done with Bacchus.
    » Ask the Fates, « I said, shrugging.
    A bolt of lightning lanced down from the heavens to strike Oberon, who first yelped, then barked at the sky.
    › Hey! Who did that? Mother clucking chicken! ‹
    Oberon was unharmed because of Perun’s fulgurite on his collar, but one of the Olympian sky gods had clearly intended for him to die. It was a message meant to put me in my place, to reduce me to quivering obeisance.
    I looked up and spoke loudly: » That was damn rude, Jupiter. The last god of Olympus who was rude to me was Bacchus. «
    » Where is he? « Mercury demanded again.
    » Why do you wish to know? Have the Roman wine cellars run dry? «
    » You will return him or suffer the consequences. «
    I shifted my gaze to Hermes and asked, » What is the Greek interest in this? «
    Hermes shrugged and spoke in his taut melodious tones: » Olympian solidarity, officially. But, in truth, Artemis was extremely vexed about the kidnapping of the dryads. As was Diana. All nymphs of the wood are sacred to them. This Bacchus affair is their chance to exact revenge for what they promised to forgive. «
    I could almost hear Granuaile saying, » I told you we shouldn’t have touched the dryads. « I carefully kept my gaze on the Olympians so I wouldn’t have to see it in her face.
    » Well, Bacchus and Faunus should be blamed for it, not I. They forced me to do it, and, besides, I returned the dryads unharmed as promised. «
    Mercury said, » We won’t let you do to the Olympians what you did to the Norse, Druid. Return Bacchus or die. «
    » Return him or die? That’s not much of a choice. If I bring Bacchus back, he will kill me. «
    The messenger gods didn’t even bother to shrug. They merely raised their eyebrows as if to say, » So? «
    » Haven’t you ever heard of Catch-22 ? Throw me a bone here, guys. If I’m going to die either way, what’s the point of giving Bacchus back? «
    They ignored my question completely and Mercury said, » Choose, mortal. Will you return Bacchus or no? «
    Fuck these guys. » No, « I said. » He’s a dick. «
    » Then so be it. « They flew straight up and away, revealing two floating chariots behind them in the distance, almost hidden against the hillside. Two helmeted figures with bows released arrows at us—Artemis and Diana. They knew I would say no. They’d planned for it.
    The Morrigan crunched down in front of us in her human form, now fully armored, and took the arrows in a massive ebony shield. I had never seen her bother with armor before.
    » I am here to fulfill my oath to you, Siodhachan Ó Suileabháin. Run now, « she said, » for England. You have two immortal goddesses of the hunt on your trail. I shall hold them as long as I can, but it won’t be forever. « She drew a sword from a scabbard at her waist.
    » Morrigan? «
    Artemis and Diana goaded their chariots forward. The Morrigan turned and pointed west, her red eyes blazing through an ebony helmet. » Go, Siodhachan! They come! «
    I grabbed Granuaile’s arm to pull her away and we ran, Oberon at our side, into a forest we suddenly found foreboding rather than friendly.

To those who have glimpsed divinity in beauty 
or
to anyone who’s ever had to think about baseball Acknowledgments
    To my family, friends, and all my wonderful readers: Much love and a raised flagon to you!
    As always, the keen insights of my alpha reader, Alan O’Bryan, helped me tremendously in the process of writing. He also got me playing Magic: The Gathering again and smooshed me with a Boneyard Wurm. Friends are rad like that.
    I am so blessed to have editors at Del Rey who are capable of both geeking out and rocking out—often at the same time. Thanks to Tricia Narwani and Mike Braff for throwin’ up the horns and encouraging all the world-building.
    I recently discovered that my agent, Evan Goldfried, knows more about beer than I do. In my eyes, this makes him An Authority on Just About Everything. I respect his authori-tah!
    Amalia Dillin (@AmaliaTD)