Page 10

10

Poseidon

I end the evening quickly after that. It’s easy enough to usher Icarus back to his room. As much as I want to flee to my room, as much as I’m certain his words were meant to incite a particular reaction in me, I can’t deny the truth of them. I intended for him to be safe here, and he wasn’t. I may not have been the one that drew a blade across his skin, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m responsible; it was one of my people who did it.

Leaving him unprotected is unacceptable, and as much as I want to trust my people implicitly, there’s been too much pain to go around. It changes people, and often not for the better. The only person I can fully trust with his safety is me .

I slide down the wall next to his door and stretch out my legs. I’m tall enough that they nearly touch the wall on the other side of the hallway. It’s going to be an incredibly uncomfortable night, but it’s a small price to pay for failing him.

I can’t allow him into my bed. I…shouldn’t. I really, really shouldn’t. Not only because of the complicated power dynamics—he’s obviously bargaining in an attempt to save himself—or because I can’t afford to have my loyalty to Olympus muddled at a time when I’m needed the most. No, the fear fluttering in my throat is solely because of my reaction when he pulled my hair during that kiss.

I’ve had lovers—a few, at least—but they were such careful encounters. There was never anything remotely like pain involved. Icarus didn’t hurt me when he pulled my hair, but it was the promise of hurt that buckled my knees. Something I wasn’t even aware I might want, and should I decide to explore that, it most absolutely can not be with one of the enemies to my people.

No matter how handsome he is. Or how good he tastes. Or how skillfully he kisses. Or how my stomach flutters when he says my name just so…

I shake my head, force thoughts of him from my mind, and settle myself down for a long night.

Orion finds me in the early hours of the morning. They raise their brows but make no comment on my choice of sleeping location. Instead, they simply hand me my phone. “You’ve been summoned.”

I blink blearily up at them, trying to focus. “Has the invasion started?”

They shake their head. “As best we can tell, none of the ships have moved. They haven’t sent out people, either. We have a watch set along the coastline like you wanted, so even if there were divers, we would find them. There’s been nothing.”

Maybe that should reassure me—I hardly want Olympus invaded—but all I can do is wonder why Circe is hesitating. There’s a reason for it. There’s been a reason for every move she’s made, skillfully and with great intent. There’s a reason for this too, and I have a feeling that by the time I find out, it will be worse than if she raided us on the first day.

I accept Orion’s outstretched hand and allow them to pull me to my feet. Only then do I check my phone. Sure enough, there’s a single text message from Zeus himself.

Zeus: We meet at eight. Be punctual.

He hasn’t commented on the fact that I didn’t return his phone calls the other day, and it’s just as well. I don’t have a good excuse. It’s not as if I can tell him I’ve been in league with his wife to see him dead. That I still am, technically. Zeus and I have never been friends and never will be friends, but planning for his death is nothing personal. It’s for the good of the city, just like everything else I do.

Within an hour, I’ve showered, changed, and grabbed a quick breakfast. I walk into Dodona Tower with minutes to spare. Even so, I’m not the last to arrive. That falls to Hera herself, sweeping in the room right before the doors close. She’s back in her customary menswear, the black suit tailored perfectly to her body and some kind of lacy top in a deep purple color peeking out from underneath the suit jacket. She meets my gaze for a beat and then moves to her husband and sits at his right hand.

Zeus doesn’t look at her. “Report.”

Hephaestus shifts in xyr seat. “This is a waste of time and a pathetic little power play. You didn’t need to summon us all here for a damned report. We are busy being actually useful.”

Zeus doesn’t flinch at the venom in xyr tone. “Be that as it may, we’re here now. Report .”

Demeter leans forward, breaking the tension a little. “Evacuations are well in progress. It will take days to fully empty the city, but we’re moving as quickly as we can. I’m afraid it’s going to affect the harvest. We simply don’t have the room in the country, not when every spare acre is dedicated to crop growth. But I’ve had my people convert two of the fields into a camp for the evacuees. It’s not ideal, but it’ll do until we solidify this situation.”

Athena shifts. “Any change from Hades?”

“No. His word stands. He won’t bring down the secondary barrier until the Thirteen are in agreement and we have an effective plan to repel the invaders. Seeing as how we’re zero for two with those, I don’t see him being a part of these conversations anytime soon.” This from Aphrodite. I wonder where they get their information from. I didn’t realize they were close with Hades, but maybe it has something to do with his wife. He might not play the political games, but Persephone is all too aware of their necessity. It wouldn’t surprise me to find out she’s been quietly in contact with several members of the Thirteen, her mother included, to do what it takes to ensure that the city is protected as much as possible.

Ares looks like she wants to shoot to her feet and only barely manages to resist the urge. “I don’t understand what Circe’s doing . It’s been days, and she hasn’t moved or attempted communication. If she’s going to invade, why hasn’t she done it already? If she’s going to threaten us, she has to make contact to do that.”

“It’s rather brilliant.” Athena doesn’t say it like it’s a compliment. More like it makes her furious. “The entire damned city can see her squadron just floating there, threatening us. The longer they do it, the worse the fear will become. She’s softening us up, just like she’s been doing from the beginning. First with that damned family, then with the murder of the last Theseus and her pet assassins continuing to rile up the general population. It might not be textbook, but it’s close enough. She’s ensuring that when she sets foot in Olympus, there will be as little fight as possible.”

“She’ll find plenty of fight from me and mine,” Ares practically growls.

“Not without a vote for war,” Artemis snaps. “Which you didn’t have the majority vote on last night and sure as fuck don’t today.”

Athena ignores her and keeps speaking. “Fear is a useful tool and Circe obviously knows how to wield it. Don’t underestimate that.” She pushes to her feet. “Now, as lovely as this meeting that has accomplished nothing has been, Demeter and I have an evacuation to oversee and people to call back. We might not have forces, but if we can conscript citizens—”

“We need a vote for that. As Artemis so helpfully pointed out, we don’t have it. Unless one of you who voted against war have changed your mind?” Zeus speaks for the first time since demanding a report. When no one speaks to say they’ll change their vote, he nods. “In that case, we evacuate everyone. I don’t give a fuck if some of the people try to volunteer. They’re civilians and should be treated as such. Get them out of here. Ares, I want you to start patrols. Work with Poseidon to set up some kind of schedule to supplement his sentries along the coastline. When Circe finally does move, I want to hear about it the moment it happens, not when they’re knocking down our doors.”

“If I—”

He keeps speaking over his sister. “Maybe at that point, the people in this room will stop prioritizing petty politics over the good of the city.”

Ares looks like she wants to fight with her brother but finally nods. “I’ll see it done.” She rises, and she and Athena leave the room together, shoulder to shoulder. They’ll be getting in contact with me later for the sentry schedule apparently. I look around the room, but there’s no peace to be had. Artemis glares at Zeus as if she’d like nothing more than to just shove him through a window. Aphrodite and Hephaestus speak in low voices. Dionysus appears to be taking a nap.

I guess the meeting is over. I haven’t formed much of an opinion on our new Hephaestus—aside from xe being more capable than Theseus was in the position—but xe was right. There had to be a more efficient way of communication that didn’t require all of us to travel to Dodona Tower.

My gaze catches on hazel eyes and stops there. Hera jerks her chin slightly, a clear command. I rise and walk out of the room, taking the elevator down one floor to where her offices are. From what I hear, she doesn’t spend much time in them, preferring the orphanage she’s recently renovated, but the door unlocks under my hand. I don’t have to wait long for her to arrive.

“The evacuations aren’t enough. You have to know that.”

I nod slowly, but can’t help pointing out, “We’d be doing more than evacuating civilians if you’d voted in favor of war.” I’d like to believe that getting the people out of the city is enough, that we might have a way to be victorious if we aren’t worried about civilian casualties, but the longer this goes on, the more I wonder. Circe has outmaneuvered us at every available opportunity. I can’t imagine that now that we’re in new territory, with Olympus facing a threat from outside our walls for the first time in the city’s history, we’ll suddenly turn the tables on her. It’s possible Icarus has information that might undermine her, but it’s even more likely that we’re past the point when information will actually matter.

We’re about to have a fight on our hands.

And we can’t even get organized enough to vote on meeting that fight head-on. Circe will be at our gates—if we had gates—and the Thirteen will still be squabbling.

Hera moves to the window and peers out before lowering the blinds. “I spoke to Circe. She wasn’t willing to discuss terms over the phone, but she will in person. Tonight.”

I knew she intended to call, but somehow hearing it makes everything so much more real. I’m already shaking my head before she finishes speaking. “No. Absolutely not. It’s a trap, and if she gets her hands on you—and the babe in your belly—then she has all she needs to bring Zeus and the rest of the city to its knees once and for all. You can’t do this.”

“I’m not doing it alone. You’re coming with me. We’re going to take a small boat out halfway between the ships and the shore. She’ll come with only one person as escort. It’s a peace talk, Poseidon. It’s possible she wants something we’re willing to give up. We won’t know until we actually talk to her—and that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

I can’t tell if she’s right or if she’s leading us down a road of pure destruction. Hera hates Zeus. I’m nearly certain that she hates this city as well, with the exception of her family and a few select others. What she may be willing to give up in order for Circe to spare the ones she loves is not the same thing as what I or any of the other Thirteen would be willing to give up.

I have a feeling if I tell her no, she’ll just find a way to do it herself, and then there will be no witnesses to whatever that conversation entails. I have to go. And I have to ensure she walks out of that meeting alive and unharmed. Damn it.

I sigh. “When?”

“Midnight. There’s not much of a moon, so we should have plenty of privacy.”

Plenty of privacy for Circe to murder us. I don’t say it. Hera isn’t a complete fool, for all that she’s deeply motivated by rage. She knows the risks, and she’s decided they’re worthwhile. So be it. It’s not as if I have another choice or even a better plan. It’s even possible that I’m wrong and what Circe wants is something that I’ll be all too happy to give up.

And maybe, someday, pigs will fly. It’s about as likely.