Circes creaked from across the breakfast table. She paused with her soup spoon midway to her mouth, the steaming porridge dripping back into the wooden bowl. “I’m impressed, son of Apollo. Mortal men can never resist a siren.”“I’m not a normal mortal, Circes,” Brennan pointed out calmly as he took a bite of his own breakfast. “Although, some advance notice would have been helpful.”“I did not know in advance,” she replied. “Zeus alone knows his plans.”“Circes,” I interrupted. “When do you think we’ll hear of our next challenge? It’s maddening to not know.”She shrugged, dipping her spoon once again into her soup. “I know not, Empusa. Be patient, young one.”Young one. I had to smile. Only the very ancient could call someone who was a thousand years old young. I heard Brennan chuckle, as well. “I don’t know what you’re laughing about, young pup,” I told him, jabbing him in the ribs. He laughed even harder until Circes silenced him with an icy, sightless stare. “There is nothing to laugh about,”
