He rubbed at his chin. “Do you think Merlin knows we’re related?”

I ran a hand over the table. “We could ask.”

Tad shrugged. “But does it really matter right now? I mean, so we’ve got warlock blood. For all we know, warlocks don’t have close family ties. A lot of Supes don’t.”

I knew it probably didn’t matter in the long and short of things, but I couldn’t push it away. “Maybe that’s why Merlin wants to help now? Could he possibly have not known we were related, and now that he does, he decided that he could actually be nice to us?”

Tad snorted. “Who knows? I certainly don’t.”

I took the papers from him and smoothed them all out, putting them on a pile on the countertop. Well, that was one secret I wasn’t sure that I could swallow whole. Like a loaf of bread going down my throat sideways. Ugh. I tapped my fingers on the counter. “Okay. So we know this means we have warlock blood. What does that tell us? Anything helpful?”

He scratched at one ear. “Well, what I know about warlocks isn’t a lot. They can do spells, have magic, and are born with their abilities. They also tend to be a bit reclusive because everyone wants them to do stuff for them.”

I rubbed a hand over my face. “So none of that really changes things unless we have to deal with Merlin, right? I mean, does it?”

Tad shook his head, and I went on. “We have to go back through the Wall on our way to find Zeus tomorrow, so we should stop at Merlin’s place and ask him if we really are related. And what it might mean for you and me.”

I wondered now if one of the pictures in the hallway between Merlin’s poker room and where he turned people into Super Dupers was a portrait of a young Gramps. There had been one with a resemblance to Tad the last time I’d walked down the hall. Perhaps it was possible I’d just missed the one of Gramps. I was so fogged in that moment of waking up a Super Duper I wouldn’t be surprised if I’d missed something as obvious as my own grandfather staring back at me.

Tad yawned and, with a wave of his hand, disappeared back down the hall. “Fine, whatever.”

I was too jazzed up, though, my body all but humming with nervous energy. A flutter of wings snapped me around, and Ernie held up his hands. “Easy, no biting the messenger.”

“You aren’t a messenger.” I smiled, but the smile fell quickly. “I’m going to bake. What do you want?”

“Ooh, I get to choose?” He rubbed his hands together.

“If you’re here with information about Hercules, you’d better believe you get to choose,” I said.

He flew across the room and landed on the top of my stand mixer. “I ate this dessert once. It was amazing. Graham-cracker crust, different fruit-flavored gelatin, and whipped-cream filling. Not what I’d call high end, but it was delicious. Think you can reproduce something like that?”

I moved through the kitchen, grabbing the few packs of flavored gelatin I had, and got them started with hot water to dissolve. Then I grabbed a can of Sprite to give a bit more texture in the mouth. I put three colors, blue, red, and green, in separate bowls in the fridge and then started on a crust.

“How do you know how to make this?” Ernie asked, moving to sit on the counter right in front of me. I smiled at him.

“I’m a baker, and I collect recipes like some people collect baseball cards. I remember seeing something like what you are talking about a couple of years ago; I never made it, but it’s a straightforward idea.” I mixed the crust together with a good amount of melted butter and pressed it into a springform pan, then put it into the oven. I turned, wiped my hands on my apron, and gave him a look. “Now, that’s got about fifteen minutes to bake, which gives you time to spill the magic beans.”

He snickered. “You’re getting good at the puns.”

I winked. “You better believe it.”

He leaned back, no longer smiling. “Here’s the deal. Herc is holed up in a downtown building that is set to be demolished. The girl—the Hydra, I should say—is with him.”

“The Hydra,” I repeated, and he nodded.

“Yeah, she’s damn hot, and she’s all over Herc, pawing at his belt, and he’s trying hard to be all gentlemanly.” He snickered. “He always was a Goody Two-Shoes.”

“Any plans you could get out of them?” If I didn’t keep him on track, this conversation would go out the window in no time. He loved gossip almost as much as he loved baked goods.

“Only that they are planning a surprise attack in the next few days. They were pretty cagey, almost like they knew I was there.”

“Wait, you were spying on him?” That surprised me.

Ernie grinned. “You’re my home girl. I’m fully invested in team Drakaina now. No more Hera. No more Zeus. Team Alena through and through.” He pulled a shimmering piece of cloth from behind him (where he kept it when he was wearing a simple loincloth is beyond me), but the cloth . . . it glittered and sparkled with the same color and pattern as my scales. I took it from him, laughing. “You aren’t serious?”

He wound it around the upper part of his left arm. “Yup, I am. Just means that whatever your fate is, I’m tied into it. And . . . for the first time in years, I don’t feel torn. I don’t wonder if my boss is going to kill me for telling the truth.”

“You don’t have a boss,” I pointed out. “If you backed away from Aphrodite, Hera, and Zeus.”