I’m about to argue with her when Ying Yue marches through the door and finds the projector behind us. Her hair is in spikes, and she wears her red leather jacket over her black jumpsuit. I get the impression she’s the sort who couldn’t disappear in a crowd if her life depended on it.

  She switches the projector on and begins. “The House of David has received word of a possible artifact in Greece. The cult behind it is already established, so this time, our job isn’t prevention. This time, we’re stamping them all the way out.”

  Joshua lets out a triumphant whoop, and I cringe. I don’t understand the bloodlust, but Ying Yue seems pleased to have an enthusiastic audience. She hits a button, and the screen lights up with the image of a colorless Greek statue.

  “Meet the goddess Athena,” she says, “or Pallas Athena as she’s sometimes called. Most of you will know her as the namesake of the city of Athens, and most of you will be familiar with the myths surrounding her. So pay attention, Joshua. I wrote this part of the presentation especially for you.” The room fills with muffled laughter, which Ying Yue immediately silences. Although, her grin is evidence that her joke has achieved the desired effect. Joshua crosses his arms and rolls his eyes.

  Ying Yue continues. “Athena is the Greek goddess of wisdom and strategic war. She has many attributes, one of which is the aegis.” Ying Yue moves the pointer over an article of clothing the statue wears. It drapes across Athena’s chest and has the image of a face at its center. I haven’t seen this depiction in a long time, but I remember it well. The aegis acts like a kind of shield, protecting whoever wears it. The image of the Gorgon’s head affixed to it is supposed to have sent whole armies running from its wearer. Not that anyone would want to go to war with the goddess herself. You’d have to be an idiot to even consider it.

  “The involved cult has declared war on the goddess Athena on behalf of Zeus,” Ying Yue says, cementing my opinion that she might actually be a mind reader. She changes the image to a group portrait of about ten to twelve people, all wearing scarves and goggles. They remind me of Seditio a bit, hiding behind their masks. If there’s one thing I respect about the House of David, it’s that they never hide who they are. “The cult has long held that the aegis rightfully belongs to Zeus and must be returned to him. They blame the collapse of the Greek pantheon on the theft of the aegis.”

  “But it wasn’t stolen,” I interject, shrinking in my seat when all the faces in the room turn toward me. “I mean, it was shared between them—a gift from Perseus who killed Medusa in the first place.” I let out a nervous laugh and hate myself for it. “Everyone knows that… don’t they?”

  Ying Yue taps a stylus repeatedly on the shell of the projector. “No, everyone does not know that, but thank you for the lesson, Bachman.” She clears her throat and resumes her speech. “Regardless of what we’ve all been taught about these myths, the group believes they have the truth and everyone else is wrong, as do most cults. To them, the Greek golden age was the golden age of mankind, which is criminally narrowminded, if you ask me. They hate all civilizations that came before it, and they especially hate all religious traditions that came after. They intend to restore the Greek pantheon with their ‘army,’ whatever that is. The only thing that’s kept them in check until now is their belief that they need the aegis before they can begin their terror campaign.”

  During her presentation, Ying Yue shows more slides depicting the cult’s ideal outcome and their plan to discredit other religions through several false flag operations. She then arrives at an image of the Parthenon. “Our counter operation begins in Athens, where we’ll gather more intel, hopefully infiltrate the group, and learn how they plan to retrieve the aegis. Unfortunately for us, Seditio is on this as well, and they’ve reportedly sent agents to assist the cultists with planning and execution. Unfortunately for Seditio, our informant was able to warn us, so we’ll be ready for them.”

  “We have an informant?” I ask on impulse.

  Ying Yue glares down at me, and I wonder whether I should have raised my hand and waited for her to call on me. “Yes, Bachman, we have an informant. Not everyone in Seditio is happy with the direction the organization is moving in. Apparently, they have a new leader who does not inspire morale.”

  “Is it possible your intel is bad?” I ask. “I mean Greek gods and goddesses? Really? Those religions have been dead for centuries.”

  “Yes, dead,” Ying Yue says, still shooting daggers at me. “And why do you suppose they’ve stayed that way?”

  My eyes widen when I realize the answer. “The House of David?”

  “Correct.” Her slow clap is insulting, but the way she ribbed Joshua, I assume catching flak from Ying Yue is all part of the gig. “By keeping artifacts from people determined to worship inanimate objects, the House of David has prevented the rise of most dead religions. They all sprout groups here and there from time to time, and we stamp them out. Can you imagine what the world would be like with that many warring religions? It’s bad enough as it is.”

  While she continues her presentation—which is now about how to blend in as tourists, where we intend to look for cultists in Athens, and how we expect them to behave when found—I consider the implications behind what I’ve just learned. How many groups never rose up over the years because the House of David took care of them before they became a problem?

  It bewilders me, the way people can get an idea into their heads and then infuse an inanimate object with it. The object becomes almost as important as the idea itself, to the point where the idea could rise or fall depending on what happens to one temple, one book, one artifact. As educated as I am, I never learned just how powerful these items could become. I mean, I had an inkling—who doesn’t? But now it feels like we’re all dancing on a knife’s edge between civilization and chaos. Lives hang in the balance. And it all depends on the random movements of otherwise meaningless objects.

  * * *

  Athens, Greece—Mission: Eliminate the Cult of the Aegis

  “It’s beautiful here.” I sit at the foot of the bed in my hotel room on a video call with Phoebe. Before I left, I was allowed to say goodbye to family and friends, but Phoebe had pulled one of her typical disappearing acts, so I never got to see her. It broke my heart a little, but I’ll do my best to make up for it now.

  “Tell me everything,” she says. “Have you been to the beaches yet? I hear the beaches are amazing there.”

  I laugh. “It’s not supposed to be a vacation, Phoebs.”

  “So? Do everything anyway! People who travel for work get to do fun stuff too. That’s the whole point. Haven’t you learned anything from the movies?”

  “Okay, okay. I promise I’ll have some fun, but only because you told me to. It’s going to be tough to leave the hotel, though.” I switch cameras to show her the room. The bed sits at one end on a platform, and a glass partition separates it from the rest of the suite. Floor-to-ceiling windows illuminate the bed with natural light, which slips through the partition into the living area. “I can see the Parthenon from my room.” I show her the windows. “They shine spotlights on it at night. You should see it. We’re going there tomorrow to get a tour of the place.”

  “Ooh, is that where your crazy cultists are hiding?” She knows I can’t tell her much about the job, but she continues to ask anyway.

  I decide to counter her questions with the language she speaks best—sarcasm. “Yes, Phoebe. They’re all hiding at the Acropolis, waiting to jump out at tourists who walk by.”

  She doesn’t miss a beat. “Do you think they’re disguised as Doric or Ionic columns? I mean, are these cultists fat or skinny? Do they feast or fast? Have you done any reconnaissance on this, or do I need to hop on a plane and show you how it’s done?”

  I’m glad she can’t see my face right now because my smile is way too big for someone who’s just giving a courtesy laugh. I love her stupid sense of humor. I want to hear her ridiculous, insensitive jokes for the rest of my life. “This is the bathroom.”

  “Wow!”

  Her reaction is the same one I had when I first saw it. The bathroom’s huge. The sinks are carved from actual slabs of unfinished marble and have brass fixtures. There’s an enormous tub and separate shower. Everything is gleaming white and gold. “Joshua says when Eden’s in charge, they always have to stay in shitholes.” I laugh. “Maybe that’s just where he’s most comfortable. It’s not because he’s frugal or anything. You’ve seen how he tips.”

  “Yeah, I have. And the dork never came back to the bar. Now that I know he’s got deep pockets, I swear I’d treat him better. Tell him, will you? ‘Phoebe wants you back.’ Say that. Make it sound like I’ll sleep with him or something.”

  My smile slips as I turn her back to the main room with its sofa, fireplace, and flat-screen TV. “You wouldn’t though, right?” God, I’m so stupid.

  “Why do you care? Jealous?”

  “No,” I lie. I’ve given her the tour, but I don’t want to switch back to the selfie camera.

  “Well, I’d totally sleep with him. Wouldn’t you? Oh, wait… He’s your brother, so…” She cackles into the phone as my shoulders slump. “Come on, give me back your face. I’ve gotta go soon.”

  Reluctantly, I switch the camera back.

  “Ah, don’t be sad, Orion,” she says when she sees my poorly disguised disappointment. “We’re young and free, aren’t we? You should be getting out there too. I’ll still be here when you get back.”

  My teeth are sore from clenching. “I know. I just thought—”

  “I’m still gonna snag you when you’re properly aged, you know. And we’ll tell each other all about our adventures and conquests. Trust me. Have a good time, O. Promise me you’ll have a good time.”

  I nod and try to smile. “I promise.”

  “Good. I want to hear all about it when you get back, okay? Bye, boy.” Right now, she looks like she could conquer the world, so I take a quick screenshot before she ends the call.

  “Bye,” I say as her image disappears. When I’m sure she’s gone, I follow it up with a quick, “Love you,” because I do, and not saying so just feels wrong.

  * * *

  I wasn’t lying when I told Phoebe that Athens was beautiful. The Mediterranean is a shade of deep, royal blue I’ve never seen before. I know the Gate is floating too far out for me to see. Somehow, it makes me feel less alone to know Eden’s out there waiting for me to fuck this up. I’m going to prove him wrong, though.

  Ying Yue, Joshua, Sarah, and I are taking a guided tour of the Acropolis. Ying Yue keeps snapping photos with Joshua like he’s her boyfriend. If the two of them are trying to look like tourists, they’re the weirdest tourists I’ve ever seen. Frankly, they dress too cool with their leather jackets, black boots, and matching sunglasses. They also seem too uncomfortable with each other to be believable as intimate partners. I could have told them not to pretend to be a couple, but what do I know? I’m the newbie here. Anyway, Sarah and I aren’t much better. She’s the epitome of awkward, and I have no idea how to behave around her. At least we know better than to pretend to be a couple.

  The hike up to the Acropolis would be pleasant if it wasn’t sweltering. We spent a month gathering intel, so it’s well into summer now. The steps we climb are worn and ancient. Olive trees dot the landscape and rustle with the swell of each breeze. It’s so different from the mossy green of Mobile.

  All of us have stopped in front of an enormous stone amphitheater called The Odeon to hear our tour guide recite its history. “In 161 AD, Roman senator and aristocrat Herodes Atticus dedicated this amphitheater to the memory of his wife. It’s one of the largest surviving theaters of its kind in Athens. All manner of plays were performed here, and since its restoration in 1950, it has returned to its original purpose. We hold plays, operas, even popular concerts here—often under moonlight. I highly recommend buying tickets to the next performance.”

  Our tour guide is the real reason we’re here. She’s one of the more outspoken members of the cult we’ve come to dismantle. A short girl with wide hips, spiral curls, and no shortage of spirit, she’s obviously new. She loves her job way too much to have been working it longer than a few weeks. She’s exceptionally easy to read, and she’s been blushing in my general direction since we started the tour.

  “Next stop is the Temple of Athena Nike.”

  The tour guide walks ahead of us, and Sarah falls into step beside me. “Ask her out after the tour,” she says.

  “What?”

  “She’s clearly into you, so ask her out. This is an opportunity we’d be fools to pass up. She loves to talk, and she’s likely to spill a few good secrets under the right circumstances.”

  I want to tell her I already have a girlfriend, that I couldn’t do that to Phoebe, mission or no, but it wouldn’t be true. Phoebe doesn’t want me, not really, not in any way that isn’t a joke to her. She’s essentially ordered me to get out there and date around. She probably has her own prospects to pursue. “Fine,” I mutter.

  Our tour guide shows us several more structures, one being the famous Parthenon everyone always takes pictures of. So, I take a picture. I wish I could enjoy this more. I can’t stop thinking about my new role in this mission. I don’t like it, but I signed up for this, so I don’t feel like I can refuse. Anyway, if it saves some lives, who am I to complain?

  When we come to the Erechtheion, our tour guide’s voice goes up an octave. She speaks more quickly, rattling off interesting facts I’m sure weren’t in her training literature. “And here is where Poseidon’s trident struck the earth when he created a spring of brackish water in competition for the city. Athena grew an olive tree, said to have been planted right in this spot.” She gestures to the ground where another olive tree currently stands. “The most stunning feature of this building, of course, are the famous Caryatids of the Porch of the Maidens. You probably noticed them while perusing the Parthenon. They draw your eye, don’t they?”

  She’s speaking of the sculpted maidens that take the place of columns on the south side of the structure. They stand in a row like soldiers, but their posture is easy and they wear long, flowing robes. They seem seconds from stepping down and walking away with the entire roof of the porch on their heads. They’re the most stunning detail on the Acropolis, without a doubt.

  “The Erechtheion was once a sanctuary for the city’s various faiths,” the tour guide says. “Many items of power and importance were kept here, including a long-lost statue of Athena, which we will sadly never see.”

  She wraps up our tour by thanking us for attending and wishing us a lovely stay in Athens. I catch her just as she turns to go. I greet her in Greek, hoping that gets her attention. She turns to see me, and her face immediately lights up. “I speak fluent English,” she says. “I’m sure it’s more comfortable for you, although your Greek is very good.”

  “Thanks.” I grin and decide to stick with English. Knowing Greek too well might make me suspicious as an American tourist. “I just wanted to say how much I enjoyed our tour. I’d like to learn more. Can I…” I clear my throat and sheepishly kick the stones at my feet. “Well, can I take you out to dinner tonight? After your shift, maybe?”

  She looks up at me like a kid who’s just been handed an entire birthday cake and told she doesn’t have to share. “I’d love to! I’m Delia, and you?”

  “Orion.”

  She gives me the look I always get when I introduce myself to people. “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. My mom’s named Stella, so my parents thought a constellation made sense, I guess. Most people just call me Rion.”

  “Okay, Rion. I know a great place with a view of the Acropolis. I’ll get us a table outside, and we can talk with a visual aid, okay?”

  “Sounds great.”

  She grabs a pen from her pocket and takes my pamphlet from me. “Here’s the address of the place, and here’s my number in case you get lost.”

  I let my fingers brush against hers as I take the pamphlet from her. “Thanks, Delia. I’m looking forward to it.”

  By the color in her cheeks, I know I’ve already won.

  * * *

  At night, the Acropolis is lit up like a work of art. The deck of the restaurant Delia has chosen is decorated with climbing vines and candles in glass lanterns. We sit at a table for two against the far wall with a direct view of the Acropolis. I’ve already finished one glass of wine and ordered a second. The food and the view are both to die for.

  Delia talks on and on about the Erechtheion and how the Acropolis was a gathering place, a place of culture for many different people of many different faiths. She seems way too tolerant to be in a cult. I imagine her car has one of those Coexist bumper stickers on it. If I wasn’t already in love with Phoebe, I see how Delia could win my heart a little. She’s quite cute with her spiral curls pinned back, her accent just strong enough to make her sound mysterious, and her tight green dress bringing out the color in her eyes. Her only ornament is a strange metal choker in the shape of a serpent coiled around her neck.

  “What’s that you’re wearing?” I gesture to the choker.

  She touches it and gets a far-away look. “Oh, it’s nothing. I mean, it’s not nothing, but… I can’t tell you here.”

  “Where can you tell me?” I lean in. “I’m dying to know.”

  My loaded question brings her back to earth, and she bites her lower lip before answering. “My place. Come have a nightcap. That’s what they call it in America, right? A nightcap?”

  I nod and gesture for the check.

  On the walk back, she asks what I do for a living.