“I don’t know,” I reply honestly. “There’s something funny about this—”

As I answer, a metallic sound clinks in the sink. Our wide eyes meet before I jump to my feet.

There, in the sink basin, solid against the sea of black muck I managed to knock out of the pipe, is a gunk-covered object—a big lump with what looks like a chain attached.

Quickly replacing the pipe, and hand tightening the connectors back in place, I grab the object by the chain and turn on the water. I hold it under the icy stream, watching as the blackness slowly swirls down the drain. When it’s clean enough to see clearly, I hold it up.

“It’s a necklace,” I say, disappointed.

I’m not sure what I expected. A sign, maybe, or a clue. Or a key. Not … jewelry.

“That’s not a necklace,” Nick says, stepping into the tiny space and lifting my arm so he can study the object at eye level. “It’s a pendant of Apollo.”

“What’s that?”

To me, it looks like a boring old necklace. A little tacky, with bright gold links, some leafy gold filigrees, and a giant golden gem in the center. Amber, maybe, or topaz. It’s not very well cut, either. It looks more like a shiny blob than a rare gemstone.

“Apollo, the god of prophecy,” Nick explains, “gives one to each of his oracles. It creates a mystical connection with the god himself, allowing them to receive information from him and allowing him to keep track of his priestesses.” Nick’s sad, dark eyes look into mine. “It is also the source of their power.”

“That means—” No, I can’t say it.

And I don’t have to. Nick finishes for me.

“The oracle is without prophecy.”

My fist tightens around the gold chain. This can’t be good. If things were so dire that the oracle had to discard her pendant, discard her powers, then she must have been truly frightened.

“You know,” Nick says, interrupting my thoughts, “there is another possibility.”

“What?”

“She might have shed her powers intentionally.”

“Why would she do that?”

He shrugs. “Maybe to prevent herself from helping you further.”

“No,” I answer without hesitation. The woman who first told me about my destiny, who helped me find Sthenno and who promised that I could save Ursula … that woman is not my enemy. “I don’t believe that.”

“Then maybe she ditched the pendant so she couldn’t be tracked,” he suggests. “It’s as accurate as a GPS signal for anyone with access to Apollo’s powers.”

That sounds more believable.

“I think she threw this in here so I would find it,” I say. “She fled before the attack, but she left this for me to protect. I need to return it to her.”

I expect Nick to argue. Heck, he’s argued about practically everything since we met.

But he nods and says, “Okay. Then let’s find her.”

I stuff the necklace—the pendant of Apollo—into one of my cargo pockets and make sure the flap is secured.

“First,” I say, pushing Nick out of the bathroom and shutting off the light behind me, “we need to go talk to my sisters.”

He glances back over his shoulder, not hiding his shock. I don’t answer. It’s not like I’m going to say, Yeah, totally, it’s time for you to meet the other triplets since I, like, trust you now. Instead, I just shove him forward.

It can’t be a coincidence that he was with me when I found the pendant, that he could explain to me what it is and what it means. The oracle must have known he would be there. It must have been fated to happen.

Which means, like it or not—and I’m not about to admit which side of that fence I’m on—Nick’s fate and mine are intertwined. Looks like I don’t have much choice but to bring him into the fold. Besides, keeping him close means keeping a close eye on him. Just because I’m letting him in doesn’t mean I trust him completely.

When Nick and I walk into the gym at Greer’s school, my sisters freeze. Well, almost. Greer is in the middle of executing a complicated flip-kick, and she has to finish the rotation before she lands on the ground and stares.

When did she learn how to do that?

“Gretchen,” Grace greets me, with awkward warning in her voice. “Hi. Um, I thought we were, you know—”

“Who’s the guy?” Greer doesn’t mince words.

“This is Nick,” I explain. “He’s here to help us.”

Grace’s eyes get wider. “Is he, um …”

“I’m a descendant of Themis,” he offers, stepping forward and holding out his hand. As Grace carefully takes it and shakes it, he says, “The goddess of law and justice. I was sent to protect Gretchen. To protect all of you.”

I don’t bother adding my opinion on him protecting me.

Greer looks skeptical, arms crossed over her chest and mouth pursed tight. I don’t blame her—if one of them brought a random dude to a sisterly gathering, I’d be pretty ticked off—but we don’t have time for that now.

“Don’t worry,” I say. “If he betrays us, I’ll skin him alive.”

Grace drops his hand and Greer looks slightly less irritated.

“Nick has an idea of where the Gorgons are likely being held prisoner,” I say. “Either in the abyss itself or in the dungeons of Mount Olympus.”