She headed for the kitchen and set coffee to brew. Then she pondered. Was she really going there? Was she really going to believe that she was descended from a goddess and had some magical ability? Her appearance certainly suggested she should give it serious consideration. The day before, she’d thought Alexios was moderately interesting and ridiculously creative, but even the door opening and lightning strike hadn’t completely convinced her. Of course, she had been exhausted. Maybe she wasn’t able to fully process everything because her mind and body were operating at half throttle.

Or…!

She whipped around, looking at the front and back doors, but both dead bolts were in place. So unless Alexios could lock the door after leaving, he hadn’t sneaked in during the night to dye her hair and inject her with Botox. Also, even though she had been beyond tired, surely she would have woken up if he’d shoved a needle in her face.

This is it. You’re one-billionth goddess.

She’d made up her mind. She was going to believe Alexios, and if that meant playing Frodo, then so be it. What was the worst that could happen? She ran around looking for a ring that didn’t exist? At least she’d burn off a few pounds. But if all of this was true and she found the ring, then she’d cash in some serious money. Assuming Alexios came through on that end of things. It’s not as if he’d offered a down payment.

She frowned. Maybe she should ask for one. If the world only had a week left, then shouldn’t it be worth it to cough up some incentive money now?

Snooze strolled up and sat, staring up at her with that sad expression that only a hound dog could manage. He’d hidden under the bed, pouting, after she’d tripped over him the night before, so she hadn’t been able to get his take on her purple-clad friend. That was unfortunate because Snooze always seemed to know when someone was bad news. He showed his displeasure by peeing on their leg.

She reached down to scratch his head.

“What do you think? Should I ask Alexios for money?”

Snooze let out a single bark, which made her jump. Barking was rare unless he was upset about something. Even hunting, it was more of a bray. Not the piercing sound he’d just emitted. She stared at the hound and realized he was staring right back, a very intent look in his eyes. If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear he understood what she was saying and was trying to answer.

“What the heck—let’s play a game. I’ll ask a question. You bark once if it’s a yes and twice if it’s a no.”

Snooze tilted his head to one side.

“I’ll take that as you’re in. We’ll start with something easy. Is your name Snooze?”

One bark.

“Do you like Harold?”

Two barks.

Marina stared.

“Do you like sweet potato?”

One bark.

“Do you like apples?”