Dry humor huffed out of her. “We wanted an audience, but now, I’m not so sure. I don’t fear for my life in a battle with Eryx.” She returned her magic-hot gaze to the harbor. “I fear for everyone else’s.”
His gut sinking, he joined her at the window. “You think you can’t control your magic?”
“It’s not that.” Dragging her lower lip between her teeth, she bit so hard the pinkness paled to beige. “Eryx will try to use innocents to shield him. And Hera will turn a blind eye—if she’s even there in person.”
“There might only be one path to Eryx,” Carver agreed soberly. “And you might have to make some very hard choices before today is over.”
Her eyes dimmed, the magic flickering. “I already have.”
He nodded. One choice cost her Cleito and the other cost her the Shard of Olympus. “Sometimes you can’t save everyone.”
“No.” She sighed. “Especially if Eryx has the amulet.”
Carver swept an uneasy gaze over her. Bel’s anger visibly drained from her as they talked, dulling her hair and eyes. The wait for the evening sacrifice could bring her up and down the path of rage a hundred times over and just fatigue her before the battle even started.
“Part of me still wishes Hera had been the good guy,” she murmured. “She took something valid and turned it rotten and awful.”
“She should’ve left her machinations on Mount Olympus.”Instead, the goddess had taken her curses and killing intotheirworlds, into their homes and families. “But if she’d been your choice, we’d have failed in our mission.”
“If she’d been the goddess she used to be, maybe failing wouldn’t have been so bad.”
Carver couldn’t argue with that, so he didn’t. He stood shoulder to shoulder with Bel, looking out their window. Such sparkling beauty, and it teetered on the brink of war. “It’s hard to believe we’re on the cusp of waging two battles for two thrones.” Goose bumps rose on his skin despite the sunlight warming him through the open window.
Bel’s eyes grew luminous again, bright and hard. “Believe it, Carver—because we’re about to help decide the fate of men and gods.”
Chapter 33
Bellanca heard the frantic footsteps pounding up the stairs before the knocking started. Her eyes locked with Carver’s, her pulse hammering as hard as the heavy fist on the door. They sat across from each other at their table, sharing a meal more out of necessity than appetite. There was strength in food.
The pounding intensified. “Bellanca! Bellanca! Carver!”
She abruptly stood, her chair scraping back. “That’s Dimitri.” She looked down at herself, horror dawning. “I’m covered in weapons.”
“Does it matter? You won’t be serving at Spiro’s tomorrow.” Carver stood, too, rounding the table.
She tried to swallow, her mouth suddenly bone-dry. Whatever she might be about to gain, she was about to lose something precious. “So dies Atlantian Bellanca,” she whispered hoarsely.
His eyes locked on hers. “So lives thequeen,” he said sharply.
Nodding, she finally managed that swallow and moved toward the door.
“Bellanca! Carver!” Dimitri frantically pounded. “Are you in there? Please!”
Foreboding barked inside her like a watchdog. “Dimitri never gets worked up about anything.”
Carver’s mouth flattened. His eyes flicked to the door, and she reached for the latch, opening it.
Dimitri froze mid-knock, gaping at them. “Did you…? How did you…?” He looked back and forth between them, his shock-wide eyes taking in their weapons and attire. He snapped his mouth shut. “I don’t understand.”
Carver tugged him inside and closed the door behind him. “What’s wrong?”
Dimitri speared a hand through his hair, and a wet sheen burst across his eyes. “I didn’t know where to go, what to do… How to help her.”
Bellanca’s heart started to pound, the boom of dread echoing inside her. “What happened? Help who, Dimitri?” She and Dimitri loved the same people. If she had a family in Atlantis besides Carver, it was at Spiro’s. Her breath shortened, fear taking up all the space in her lungs.
“Soldiers came,” Dimitri said unsteadily, his blue eyes swimming. “They just dragged Lilika out of the taverna. Eryx chose her for sacrifice, and he’s starting the procession early.”
***
