Chapter One
Zeus
One Year Earlier
Ilooked around, committing all that I saw to memory. At least, trying to commit it to memory. This was it. We were really doing it.
We were closing Olympus, to put it in modern terms. When I’d said I was over taking care of humans, I’d been angry. It happened. I have a temper. I said—and did—a lot of things when I was mad.
But the rest of the gods took me seriously. Honestly, it had surprised me when they did. The last five hundred years or so, I hadn’t gotten the impression my words held the weight they used to.
Not that I’d admit that anyone else. It was bad enough admitting it to myself.
The sight before me was hard to take in. The fields of ambrosia were gone. Everyone, all the gods, had celebrated our impending freedom with far too much enthusiasm, and in the manner of the Olympians, we had, to put it simply, wrecked the place.
Although it could have been worse.
At least Olympus was still standing, even if the ambrosia fields were not.
“Sulking?” A light, silvery voice that floated in the air like a faint perfume pulled me from my thoughts.
“No.” I whirled around, ready to slap a little lightning on whoever it was that was bothering me. I was trying to say goodbye here.
It was Nyx. One of the original goddesses, the goddess of Night. She was the daughter of Chaos, and I’d always found her beautiful. But she was… intimidating. And for me, Zeus, to admit such a thing spoke to the power and intensity of Nyx. Her hair was long and dark, with silvery blue highlights. Her skin was clear and fair, like the moonlight on water. She was tall, as tall as I was, and she radiated night. There was no other way to describe it. She’d mothered many of the original gods, and she and I had tangled in the past over her insistence on protecting her truly stupid son, Hypnos.
All right. Perhaps Hypnos wasn’t eternally dim, but he’d put me to sleep at the request of my wife, Hera, when she was angry with me and stirring up trouble. Had Hypnos not run to Nyx after he’d spelled me, I would have made him a scorch mark on some rock thousands of years ago.
Nyx, however, could probably kick my ass. She knew it. I knew it. She knew I knew it. Thankfully, she didn’t trumpet that fact.
It was enough that I knew. Thus her son lived to be foolish for many years after he cast his sleep spell on me.
“Come to gloat?” I looked away from her, not wanting to see pity, or scorn, or anything else.
“Come to see it once more.”
Something in Nyx’s voice made me turn to gaze at her. “Why?”
She shrugged, even that simple movement full of grace. Her hair moved around her shoulders like water at night, moving through a swift-running river. “I do not think I’ll see it again.”
“We’re not shutting it away. We’re just…” I stopped. I wasn’t sure how to describe what we were doing.
“Moving on?”
“Yes.” I nodded. That would work. “Moving on. Trying something new. Letting the humans look out for themselves.”
“They’re more capable than you think.”
“I didn’t think you had much to do with humans.”
“I don’t. They’re far too messy for my taste.” Her face turned to me, her smile making her skin luminous. “And I like being alone. But we’ve all been here, watching over the humans while warring and loving and falling out and making up with each other, for many years. It’s not just a change. It’s a goodbye.”
“I think it will be good.”
“Are you telling me, or trying to convince yourself?” There was no mistaking the humor in Nyx’s question.
“I don’t know.” I let the words out in a rush of breath, not liking the way the words felt on my tongue. I was the King of the Olympians. It was my responsibility to know everything.
“How did that taste?”
