32

Poseidon

It doesn’t matter that I had a conversation with Zeus and Hades just a short time ago. It feels different having them here , in my space, not bickering over a fancy boardroom table but actively planning an assault on our enemy. The coup is in action. We’re gathered around the digital map Bellerophon projects onto the blank wall. It depicts the five ships and our coastline.

“We launch from here, here, and here.” Athena points to each spot in turn. “Even if the jammers work on their radar like you say, we don’t want to gather and present a pretty target for them to shoot at if someone happens to see us.”

Hades stands with his arms crossed over his chest. Like Athena and the rest of their respective people, he’s dressed for war, not for the boardroom. I don’t know what Zeus was thinking, showing up in a suit.

Hades leans over to speak to the white woman with short blond hair at his side. Medusa. Normally, his ever-present shadow is Charon, who I fully expected to accompany him. When Charon ferried Hades across the river, I assumed rumors of his injuries in the recent attacks in the lower city were exaggerated. Apparently not. I do question the decision to bring Medusa, though. She’s got a reputation for being dangerous—because she used to work for Athena. At least until that mess with Odysseus and Calypso. I would have expected her to avoid coming back to the upper city, especially since this meeting requires Athena’s presence.

“Don’t be shy, Hades,” Athena says drily. “Share it with the class.”

He gives her a long look, expression carefully blank. “Normally, I would recommend splitting our respective forces to be represented on each of the boats, but in this case, I think it would do more harm than good. We don’t have time for the potential pissing contests or the slightest hesitation.”

Athena’s lips thin, probably at the insinuation that any of her people would let a silly thing like loyalty get in their way of obeying an order. She runs a tight ship, so to speak, but surely she realizes he’s right. The Thirteen, myself included, have spent too much time ensuring our people are loyal to us , not the Thirteen as a whole. It’s the only way to sleep soundly at night, even as a legacy title. For someone like Athena, that’s doubly true; her title can be claimed through the assassination clause. Since that knowledge became public, she’s fielded no less than three attacks…that we know about.

“He’s right,” Zeus cuts in. “We can’t afford to waste energy ensuring we all play nice. We have to make this work the first time.”

“Fine.” She turns back to the projected map. “Zeus.” She points to the spot in the middle. “Hades.” The next one to the left, a little dock a quarter mile away that’s rarely used by anyone but teenagers. “Me.” Her arm sweeps back to the right to the farthest point. “Poseidon’s people will have to be on each boat.”

“Poseidon himself will be with me,” Zeus says, still sitting in that damn chair as if it’s his throne in Dodona Tower. He doesn’t raise his voice, but he doesn’t have to. “Icarus as well.”

That stops me short. “No. Absolutely not.” No one protested Icarus’s presence for this meeting, but I figured that was because they didn’t see him as a threat. It’s not as if he can call Circe and tell her we’re coming.

He managed to call his past lovers with the aim of blackmailing them .

I ignore that logical voice murmuring in the back of my head. It’s true enough, but I can’t believe Icarus will betray us. Betray me . He might be as good a liar as anyone else in Olympus, but beneath that, he’s scared out of his mind and starting to care deeply for me. I don’t doubt his feelings, not when I’ve seen and heard and felt the evidence. He’s not going to betray us. I’m staking my life on it.

“No, he’s right.” Hades speaks softly, but it still draws every eye in the room. “We’ll be out there for some time before we reach the ships. Plenty of opportunity for him to slip your guard and make a few calls. That won’t happen if he’s on a boat with one of us.”

I’m already shaking my head. “It’s too dangerous. He’s not trained.”

“He doesn’t need to be.” Zeus stands and stretches. “He just needs to sit there and not betray us. It’s easy enough. Right, Icarus?”

I glance down at Icarus. He’s gone waxy with fear, but his dark eyes are determined. That worries me. All of it worries me. I have a suspicion he thinks he has something to prove, and that means he’s going to do something dangerous. “No. If that’s the requirement, then this whole thing is off.”

“Poseidon.” Icarus takes my arm and tugs me a few steps away. I don’t think we’re actually out of earshot, but he doesn’t seem to care one way or another. He steps close and lowers his voice. “You can’t call the whole thing off. This might be your only chance to turn the tide.”

“I don’t care.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Fine, yes I do.” Agitation is a live thing inside me. I want to roar at how unfair this is, at the fact that I already know I’m going to lose this argument. Normally, that would be enough for me to change gears or simply give in, but this is Icarus . I don’t trust that he’s not motivated by some fatalistic bullshit. “You’re injured.”

“Not injured enough to keep me from having pretty athletic sex.” He smiles sadly. “I’m fine. I’ll be okay.”

I don’t believe him. But even as I open my mouth to keep arguing, I remember what happened the last time I left him in someone else’s care. My attention falls to his chest, a chest I am now intimately acquainted with. His bandages might have come off, but the healing wounds there will scar. All because I misjudged a situation and the depth of Polyphemus’s grief and anger. Polyphemus will be piloting one of the boats, but there are others who have plenty of motivation to hate the Vitalis family, and Icarus is the only Vitalis left in Olympus. Theseus hardly counts, even before he fully switched sides after marrying Zeus’s sister.

“Poseidon.” Icarus presses a hand to my chest. “We don’t have time for this. You are going to have to agree. Let’s just find a way to do this right.” His eyes go troubled. “And hope Deo and the rest actually leave.”

“Even if they don’t, we’ll handle it.”

He shakes his head. “It will be significantly more dangerous.”

He’s right, and I can’t lie well enough to comfort him about it. “I don’t like this.”

“Look around, big guy. No one likes it. No one wants to be here. We’re all just playing hero because we’re the only ones who can.” He smirks, looking a little more like the rakish spoiled prince I once believed him to be. “The Thirteen are finally pulling their weight. All it took was a coup to make it happen. Someone better call MuseWatch and alert the presses.”

“Not until after we’ve succeeded and Zeus has abandoned the coup officially,” Athena snaps, proving the entire room was party to this attempt at a private conversation. “If you’re done, there are still several details to finalize.”

Icarus is right. I’m not winning this argument. Not with him and the others firmly in the opposite camp. “Nothing is going to happen to you. I won’t let it,” I whisper.

He smiles, taps my chest a few times, and moves around me to walk back to the others. It’s only as I turn to follow that I realize I recognize the pattern. It’s the one I tap out when I’m concentrating. He’s been paying attention.

With that bolstering me, I find the strength to turn to face the rest of the room. “Fine. Let’s move on.”

“Gladly.” Athena continues to walk us through the plan.

It’s simple enough. As soon as we’re done here, we’ll split off to our respective launch locations and wait for the agreed-upon time to slip into the dark water and head for the ships. She’s planning on Icarus failing, which leaves us to deal with five ships. Each pair of boats will hit one, her and Hades’s people scaling the sides and going to our best assumption of where the captain’s quarters are—and where the rest of those in charge will be sleeping. After killing their targets and setting explosive charges, each team will make an announcement that the crew has fifteen minutes to abandon ship before it goes down—and that any attempt to make landing on Olympus’s shores will result in a quick and fatal end. Then it’s back to the boats and a quick retreat to shore, just in time for the charges to blow and sink the ships. Simple.

Except for the fact that there are half a dozen points off the top of my head where everything can go wrong. The captain’s quarters are nowhere near where we need to set the charges, and even in the middle of the night, there will be people awake and moving about. Getting to the designated locations will likely mean killing anyone we come across.

I glance at Icarus, seeing the same knowledge reflected in his expression. He doesn’t protest, though, likely for the same reason I don’t. There’s no other way. Making the announcement is a compromise Athena didn’t want to make, but it still feels like it’s not enough. There will be lifeboats to allow the crew to get to safety. Probably. The nearest non-Olympian coastline is only a few hours of rowing, which isn’t ideal but it’s still better than mass murder. I just hope they won’t try to row to the nearest shore.

Athena stops and turns to face us. “Anything to add?”

Hades shrugs. “Seems simple enough.” He glances at me. “The only risk is of one of her generals betraying us instead of Circe.”

“The generals won’t betray us,” I say. My face heats when everyone turns their attention on me, but I’ve dealt with the uncomfortable sensation of being the center of attention enough times in the last few decades that I’m able to keep speaking. “Circe has no reason to expect them to sail away, and she certainly has no evidence to support an attack. She knows Olympus’s politics well enough to recognize that the Thirteen will never vote to go to war. Zeus’s coup will catch her flat-footed.”

“That’s the plan,” Athena murmurs. She cuts a look to Zeus, the threat clear in her tense stance. “Though the coup won’t last past dawn.”

As long as he keeps his word. I don’t say that aloud, though. There’s no reason to introduce doubt right now, when we need to trust each other the most. “When the other ships are gone, Hades’s people can continue with the plan to plant the charges and remove Circe and the others, and the rest of the boats will assist with the evacuation efforts.”

“Poseidon.” Athena sighs. “We’re under no obligation to ferry them to safety. To suggest that is absurd. They have their own boats. They’ll be fine.” And if they’re not, it’s not our problem. The unsaid words sit there in the space between us, the knowledge that most people in this room don’t care about an enemy crew, recruited under duress or not.

“I insist.” I look around, meeting each of their gazes in turn. “This all started because most of the people in this room stood by and did nothing to curtail the last Zeus’s abuse of power. If we want to end the cycle, this is how we do it.”

“They’re the enemy,” Medusa scoffs. “They wouldn’t give us the same courtesy.”

“All the more reason to extend it to them.” I speak softly, all too aware that Medusa has history with the title Poseidon. It’s my uncle’s abuse of power that resulted in her ending up under Athena’s command, indirectly responsible for her landing in the lower city. Knowing that makes me cautious with her.

Athena crosses her arms over her chest and glares. “Then you can play savior if you want. The rest of us will stick to our plan.”

Zeus rises, effectively ending the discussion. “Let’s get moving.”

There’s nothing left to say. It’s only as we’re walking out the door and breaking off to our respective destinations that I realize I should have pushed harder to keep Icarus behind. He keeps pace at my side, but it seems like every step he takes bows his shoulders more. I hate it. I want to protect him and I don’t know where to begin. “Icarus.”

He glances up. “Yeah?”

“It will be okay. I promise.” I hate that it feels like a lie, like I’m making a promise I can’t possibly uphold. But for him, it’s worth it.