Lo disentangled himself from my grip. His face, normally animated with mischief or exaggerated drama, was solemn in a way that sent ice through my veins.
"It's not good, doc," he said, dropping onto our couch. "He did it. He went after Prometheus, like we knew he would."
"And? What happened? Is he—" I couldn't bring myself to finish the question.
"He's alive," Lo said quickly, holding up a hand. "But he's been detained by Rhadamanthys and taken to Tartarus."
The relief of knowing Luka was alive collided with fresh terror. "Tartarus? What does that mean?"
"It means," Lo explained, his face grim, "that he's being held in the Pantheon's maximum security detention facility until the tribunal."
"Tribunal?" I echoed, my mouth dry.
"Three days from now," Lo confirmed. "Just like Rhadamanthys said. Luka killed Prometheus—one of the Seven—one of the organization's directors. In our world, that's somewhere between high treason and deicide."
My legs finally gave out, and I sank into the chair opposite him. "What does that mean for him? Are they going to—" Again, I couldn't finish the sentence, the possibility too horrific to voice.
"Not yet," Lo said, leaning forward. "The Pantheon operates on tradition and protocol, almost to a religious degree. The tribunal will determine his punishment... or his vindication."
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to think clearly despite the panic threatening to overwhelm me. "So Prometheus is dead," I said.
Lo nodded. “Dead as can be.”
“And Ana?”
"Rhadamanthys has her in protective custody as a material witness for the tribunal."
"How do you know all this?" I asked.
"I have contacts," Lo said vaguely. "And I've been monitoring Pantheon communications since Luka left. As soon as I learned he'd been taken, I called in every favor I could."
He reached into his jacket and pulled out what looked like a small metal disc, no larger than a poker chip. "Which is why I have this. A temporary visitor's pass to Tartarus. We can see him, but only once before the tribunal."
Hope flared in my chest, bright and painful. "When?"
"Now," Lo said, standing. "The transport is waiting, but we need to move quickly. The pass is only good for the next four hours."
I was already heading for the bedroom to change. "Give me two minutes."
"Vincent!" Lo's voice stopped me at the threshold. When I turned back, his expression was uncharacteristically gentle. "Prepare yourself. Tartarus isn't... it isn't a pleasant place."
I nodded once, sharply, and went to get dressed. Whatever awaited us, I would face it for Luka. He'd given up everything to protect me; I wouldn't abandon him now.
The Tartarus facility burroweddeep beneath the Acropolis, the elevator plunging so far down my ears popped painfully three times before we stopped. The air changed as we descended, growing colder, staler, tinged with something metallic that coated my tongue and made my skin crawl.
"How did you get this access?" I asked as the elevator plunged deeper than I thought possible.
Lo's smile was tight. "Let's just say I have friends in places both high and very, very low. And everyone owes Luka a favor, whether they realize it or not."
The elevator finally stopped with a soft chime that seemed incongruously pleasant, given our destination. The doors opened onto a circular antechamber where two guards in matte black tactical gear stood flanking another doorway. Their faces disappeared behind obsidian visored helmets, their bodies unnaturally still except for the synchronized rise and fall of their chests. They didn't fidget, didn't shift weight from foot to foot like normal humans. They stood asif they'd grown from the floor itself, exuding the cold efficiency of predators who never needed to rush because prey never escaped.
Lo approached confidently, presenting his visitor chip. One guard examined it while the other ran some kind of scanning device over both of us.
"Visitor clearance confirmed," the first guard announced, his voice mechanically filtered through his helmet. "Forty-five minutes authorized. No physical contact with the detainee. No exchange of items. All conversation monitored. Any violation of protocol will result in immediate termination of visitation privileges."
Termination of privileges, or termination of us?I wondered darkly, but kept the thought to myself.
The second door hissed open, revealing a long corridor lined with what appeared to be cells, though they looked more like high-tech capsules than traditional prison bars. Most were empty, their transparent fronts revealing sterile white interiors.
