34

Poseidon

Climbing up the side of the ship in increasingly unsteady conditions isn’t something I’d choose to do on any given day. Doing it while worrying that Icarus’s arms will give out and send him into the unforgiving sea is agonizing. I made him go before me, following Zeus, and I’m certain I can see the tremors in his body.

This was a mistake. Leaving him behind would have been hard, but Ceto is one of my best. She would have kept him safe…probably. But I can’t guarantee that, can I? Polyphemus is also one of my best, and look how that turned out.

It doesn’t matter. Zeus didn’t give me a choice. Icarus is here, and I have to keep him safe. I reach the top and haul myself over the edge. My knees crack as I land in a crouch and Icarus gives a faint wheeze that might be a laugh if he had the air for it. “I should stop calling you ‘big guy’ and start calling you ‘old man.’”

“No, thank you.” My knees crack again as I straighten to join him next to Zeus, which makes my cheeks flame despite the circumstances. The rest of Athena and Zeus’s people slip onto the deck and look around.

It’s eerily quiet on deck. I know Deo said that this ship was run by a skeleton crew, but I didn’t believe him any more than Icarus did. Now, though? It’s hard not to wonder what Circe could possibly have been thinking. Yes, we have jammers and our boats are quiet and we were all dressed in dark clothing so nothing would give us away, but we shouldn’t be able to climb aboard and mill around without someone noticing.

Zeus straightens his jacket as if he’s about to step into a board meeting. “Let’s go before they have a chance to rally.”

Rally suggests they’re in disarray, but best I can tell, no one even knows we’re here. The Circe who met Hera and me out on the water was one of the most self-possessed people I’ve ever encountered. Even more so than she was as a young bride to the last Zeus. There’s no way she could know Zeus would stage a one-night coup to come here to kill her, but… “Something’s wrong.”

Zeus looks at me and, for a moment, I swear I can see the intent to just shove me overboard so he doesn’t have to deal with someone questioning him. He shuts down the thought immediately, but the slip showcases how on edge he is. “It’s too late to do anything but move forward.” He motions to Bellerophon. “Lead the way.”

Icarus and I fall into step behind him. Athena’s people create a wedge around us. Even now, when we’re about to charge into combat, they’re protecting the Thirteen. As if their lives matter any less than ours. As if I earned my title through any merit beyond the blood in my veins—same as Zeus. We’re no better than any other citizen of our city.

“Unclench your jaw, big guy,” Icarus murmurs at my shoulder. “That’s a good way to give yourself a tension headache.”

I match his low tone, barely more than a whisper. “This is wrong. Even with a skeleton crew, there should be more people here.”

“Yeah.” He nods down at the butt of the pistol my hand has instinctively found. “I hope you know how to use one of those.”

“I wouldn’t wear if it I didn’t. That’s grossly irresponsible. I go to the range once a week and am up to date on all safety material.” I belatedly recognize that I’m earnestly responding to what was clearly a joke.

“Of course you do and you are.” He laughs a little, but his eyes are shining strangely in the moonlight. “I expect nothing less.”

“Quiet,” Zeus says. “Hades is in position on the other side of the ship. We’re going in.”

I don’t want to. Fuck, I don’t want to do any of this. I’m not a soldier. I’m barely even a leader. I’m not sure I even believe in the same Olympus that Zeus and the others do. The one ruled by the Thirteen. But we’re here and we’re the only thing standing between Circe and a potentially catastrophic loss of civilian life.

I reluctantly draw my gun, pause to reach back and guide Icarus behind me, and then follow Zeus through the door. He, at least, shows no hesitation. He’s focused in a way that makes the small hairs rise on the back of my neck.

This ship is strange. It’s not quite military, but it’s not a cargo carrier, either. We’re on the starboard side nearest the stern, tucked back behind where the officer cabins should be. I would wager Circe’s is at the top, but we have to get to her first.

“This all ends tonight,” Zeus murmurs, almost too low to hear. He nods at Bellerophon. “Kick down the door.”

Bellerophon obeys without hesitation, kicking open the door and moving gracefully to the side right as someone in the room fires. They didn’t even wait to see who it was.

I shove Icarus back, putting him between me and the wall. I think he makes a sound of protest, but it’s hard to hear over the ringing in my ears. Where I’m floundering in the first real combat of my life, Zeus isn’t.

When the person comes through the door, a shotgun in their hands, he grabs the barrel and shoves it skyward as they fire. He punches them in the throat, rips the gun from their hands, and shoves them at Bellerophon. Two pulls of their trigger and the enemy is dead.

It took all of three heartbeats. Zeus’s expression never changed. It still doesn’t as he turns to me. “Clear the cabin. We’re going to keep moving.”

I manage to nod, and then they’re gone, hustling down the hallway to the next door. The body is still on the floor at my feet. I’ve seen bodies before, but not like this. I never wanted to see them like this.

“Poseidon?” Icarus presses his hand to my back. “I don’t like this, either, but we can’t afford to freeze.”

Because if we freeze, we might end up dead. He might end up dead.

That gets me moving. “They came here to kill us.” Maybe if I say it enough times, this will feel right. Or maybe that’s just a lie we tell ourselves so we can sleep at night. If we’re getting the crew to safety outside of Olympus, there’s no reason we couldn’t do the same with the rest of the officers.

Not with Circe, but with the rest.

“Breathe, big guy.” Icarus is so close, he’s practically plastered to my back. I have no idea how he’s not stepping on my heels. He rubs small circles between my shoulder blades. “The man is an officer, and he’s the same guy who runs a fighting ring for street kids. Where do you think the Minotaur came from? Theseus? They didn’t crop up in a vacuum. Aeaea has just as much rot as Olympus.”

Knowing that doesn’t make me feel better, but it does keep me moving. I step into the room to clear it. It takes only a single sweep to recognize that no one else is here. The cabin is familiar enough—it seems all maritime vessels have similar ones. Bed bolted to the floor in the event of tumultuous seas, a narrow door leading to a small bathroom barely big enough for someone to hide in. But when I open the door to the shower, there’s a person cowering there.

I jolt. “Shit.”

Icarus steps forward before I can stop him. Gone is the flirty playboy, gone are the lies. The compassion on his handsome face is so honest, it makes my chest ache. “It’s okay,” he says softly. He makes no move to close the distance further. “You’re safe.”

The only response is for the person to curl even more in on themself, their arms around their knees and their long hair covering their face. Icarus glances at me, but I don’t have the right words for this situation. I don’t know if there are right words.

He eases down into a crouch. “They’re only after the officers. No one will hurt you.”

They lift their head a little, recognition shining in their dark eyes. “You’re Icarus Vitalis.”

He flinches. “I, uh, yes, I am.” On his next breath, he seems to gather himself. “You’re safe. No one is going to hurt you. I promise.”

“Okay,” they whisper.

He hesitates. “Do you know where Circe is?”

“No.” They shake their head. “He…kept me here. Away from the others.” I catch sight of bruises, both new and old, marking the light-brown skin of their arms.

“I’m sorry.” He reaches out, but hesitates before making contact. When they don’t flinch away, he carefully grips their shoulder. “It won’t happen again.”

It’s like the strength goes out of their body. They slump down against the wall. “It always happens again. It’s how things are.”

“Not anymore. Stay here. This will be over soon.” He gently shuts the shower door and turns to me. “Do you understand now?”

Yeah, I guess I do. This person is obviously part of the crew, and is just as obviously being abused by the officer now dead on the floor outside. It’s just one person, but it certainly supports Icarus’s insistence that the crew wouldn’t choose to be here if they had a choice.

“Let’s keep moving,” I finally say. I almost tell him to stay here and barricade himself in, but I don’t want to let him out of my sight.

Out in the hallway, we find more dead bodies. I edge around them and follow the sound of fighting, Icarus close on my heels. “We just need to find Circe,” I huff. “Then this ends.”

“I hope so.”

We catch up with the team at the bottom of a set of stairs. Bellerophon glances at their tablet. “This should be the main suite. She’ll be there.”

“Let’s go.” Zeus doesn’t hesitate. He rushes up the stairs and slams the door open, the stolen shotgun still in his hands. He doesn’t spare us a look before disappearing into the room.

Fuck. I drag in a breath and follow him in, steeling myself to pull the trigger if necessary. Circe has been the cause of so much pain and suffering. She may have been victim to it herself, but even as I empathize with the pain she’s experienced, I cannot condone the harm she’s committed. She’s too clever, too driven. As long as she lives, Olympus won’t be safe.

Except the room is empty.

I slowly lower my gun, following Icarus’s touch to shift away from the door and put our backs to the wall. The room isn’t anything particularly fancy. There’s a desk bolted to the floor, and a short divider that has a single bunk on the other side, sheets tucked in with military precision.

Zeus charges into the only other door, one leading to a tiny bathroom. It’s pristine in a way that suggests no one has been here in some time. There are no toiletries on the sink or in the shower. I look back at the room again. No computer, no personal effects, no clothes . “She’s not here. She might never have been here at all.”

Zeus spins around, blue eyes showing emotion for the first time all night. They’re wide and wild. “Where is she? Where the fuck is she? ”

“We’ll find her.”

“She was here. You met her out on the water with my wife.” He clenches his fists. “She went back to her ship after that meeting.”

“I thought she did.” I catch sight of a stack of papers on the desk and move toward it. “She went in that direction, but we didn’t follow her. It’s possible she changed course once she was out of sight. She didn’t land where my sentries could see but…”

“But without the barrier, there’s more land than there are sentries,” Icarus murmurs, finishing my thought.

Zeus veers around me and plucks the piece of paper I noticed from the desk. He reads it and curses. “That fucking bitch .”

It takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness enough to read the words written in thick marker, their meaning almost obscene in their cute bubble letters. Circe even drew hearts over the tops of the i ’s.

It’s so cute that you thought you could get the best of me. Darling Zeus, you should know by now that I’m always three steps ahead. Tell Icarus that Deo sends his regards. Better luck next time.

—C

“What—?” I can’t even get the sentence out before Zeus shoves everything off the desk and roars in rage. “Zeus, stop.” I start to step forward but Icarus grabs the back of my shirt, pulling me up short. Or, more accurately, as soon as I feel the resistance, I stop. “There might be evidence we need in the room.”

“There isn’t.” He kicks down the divider between the bed and the rest of the room. It’s also bolted to the floor, so it only bends drunkenly until he kicks it again and again.

Shock roots my feet to the floor, but Icarus has the presence of mind to shut and lock the door before any of Athena’s people see. I’ve never witnessed Zeus as anything other than cold and composed, even when he was still Perseus, heir to the title his father held.

He continues to rampage. Icarus and I stand as silent witnesses. I’m aware of the tension in Icarus’s frame, but there’s not a damn thing I can say that won’t make things worse. I’m not letting Zeus turn his ire on the man I care for, but I’m also not going to say as much and give Zeus any ideas.

He finally slumps against the desk. “Damn it. This is so fucked. It was supposed to end tonight.”

This is my cue. We aren’t friends—he hasn’t earned the effort it takes me to manage his emotions—but there’s no one else. I step forward carefully. “This is still a victory.”

“How do you figure?” He doesn’t look up, fisting the fabric of his expensive slacks.

“It’s pretty fucking clear. Circe lost her squadron. Four of her generals sailed off without her.”

He snorts. “So they can circle the coast and come back. She said Deo sends his regards.” He narrows his eyes at Icarus. “He played you. He played us .”

“ Think , Zeus.” I want to shake him but manage to resist the urge. “She has no reason to deceive us. With five ships, she could bomb the city to oblivion with little risk to herself. The only reason she didn’t get around to it yet was because she was sure the Thirteen wouldn’t vote—something she was correct about. She didn’t see the coup coming. We stopped her.”

He finally drags a hand through his blond hair and curses. “We didn’t stop anything, but at least the blockade is no longer an issue.” As he speaks, I can actually see the walls coming back, his control once again reasserting itself. “Take this ship.”

“Excuse me?”

“Take this ship,” he repeats slowly. “You and your little boyfriend wanted to free the crew? Do it. Then bring the ship back to port and we’ll take it apart with a fine-tooth comb.” Zeus jerks open the door and stalks out of the room.

I blink, still trying to process this unexpected turn of events. I glance at Icarus, who surveys the room with a strange look on his face. “Is it a trap?” I ask. “It’s what she did with Hades in the lower city.”

“Circe isn’t the type to try the same trick twice.” He drifts to the mess of papers on the floor and picks up the note. “And no matter what kind of monster she is, I don’t think she’d blow this ship and its crew up—not even to get you and Zeus.”

“And Hades.”

He opens his mouth, seems to reconsider what he was about to say, and shrugs. “My father would make that play. The last Zeus would make that play. Circe is terrifying, but she’s terrifying in her intent. It’s more likely…”

I follow his thought, even though I desperately don’t want to. I clear my throat. “It’s more likely that this blockade was a distraction.” A clever one at that. She knew we’d vote and vote and vote again, trying to get the Thirteen to unite enough to stand against the ships. Just like she knew it wouldn’t work. While we were fighting each other, she was already moving onto the next step in her plan. “Are there even large-scale weapons on the Penelope? ”

Icarus laughs bitterly. “I have no idea, but now that you’ve asked the question, I think we know the answer, don’t we?”

I feel sick. This has all gone so wrong. It’s been going wrong from the beginning, but I had no reference for the sheer gauge. “If Circe isn’t here, if these ships were never meant to attack Olympus, then where is she?”

“I have a feeling we’re going to find out, sooner rather than later.”