Bellanca winced at Carver’s weak, strangled shout, the broken sound knifing through her. Magical healinghurt, mirroring the pain of the original wound. She had zero experience with venom, but this one must be indescribably terrible if Zeus had banished it from the mortal worlds.
And Carver hadn’t hesitated for one second to trade his life for hers.
Her chest knotted, aching fiercely. A sting crawled toward her eyes. She didn’t waste magic and blinked hard. How could she have everything she wanted for mere seconds before it got mortally endangered? Was this a cosmic joke? She deserved better. So did Carver.
And so did Atlantis, because this danger was far from over.
Fully healed, Hera kept Zeus just out of reach, her snakes hissing and her claws bared. Her power might’ve suffered, but she was still strong enough to break free of Zeus’s lightning cage and confident enough to face off with the king of gods.
Trying to focus on something other than Carver’s awful silence now, Bellanca gathered every scrap of magic she could still find inside herself and called it toward the surface. It wasn’t a lot. She’d tapped herself out battling that relentless barrage of boulders. Touching Carver—the intensity of that connection—had helped. Together, they’d been ready and able to kill Hera. Alone, she barely burned, and no sun flare even peeked out.
Zeus advanced, pressing Hera toward the wall. Before he could trap her, Hera struck and gouged four thick slices across Zeus’s jaw.
Ichor stained his beard with gold. “Don’t make me hurt you,wife.”
She scoffed. “What’s one more hurt in a line of thousands?Husband.” She clawed him across the face again. He didn’t try to stop her, but his countenance darkened. Golden liquid dripped to the debris-littered ground. Returning her lion paws to normal hands, Hera slid away from him as she shook Zeus’s ichor off her fingers as if it were mud instead of the lifeblood of gods.
Zeus stalked her, his great, deep voice rumbling like a thousand earthquakes ready to shake the worlds. “You have cause to be angry with me. I also have cause to be angry with you, Hera Olympus. You bring down your vengeance on innocents and not on me, where the blame lies for your anger. Take the fight where it should be.”
“What do you think I’m doing?” A shining sword appeared in Hera’s hand—long, lethal, and starlight bright. She struck at Zeus without preamble.
Zeus narrowly evaded and conjured a weapon of his own. He struck back at Hera, and each deafening clash of their blades sent a lightning bolt shooting from his sword.
Bellanca backpedaled closer to the altar. This was it.Olympianomachy.The War of Gods had started in Thalyria and would end in Atlantis. It mightendAtlantis. Icy terror spread through her, raising goose bumps, and she didn’t have the magic to spare to chase it from her bones.
Hera leaped for the sky. Zeus chased after her, and they took their fight to the air. Swords collided and lightning flashed as Hera viciously attacked Zeus, finally drawing blood with a triumphant cry. Zeus healed almost instantly and resistedreturning the insult. He pounded at her sword, trying to knock it away, and she fought back with a ferocity that could only come from the force of her own fury since she’d lost so many worshippers today.
Hera came dangerously close to severing Zeus’s head. Growling, he retaliated with a god bolt that crashed into her with a blinding shock. She flew backward and slammed into her own temple. Falling stone muffled her enraged shriek as she crashed through the roof of the empty, already damaged building and brought down the whole structure.
Bellanca held her breath, her eyes huge and her hearing thick from the deafening boom. Still in the air, Zeus stared down at the now-leveled temple. His slow, heavy exhale, full of regret and melancholy, was so human that sympathy panged inside her.
Everything stayed eerily quiet until the ruins rumbled and Hera rose from the carcass of her sacred temple, rage and rubble cascading off her. She hovered, her eyes ice cold, and then flew at Zeus again, attacking so brutally that he wavered under the strength of her blows. His stern, handsome face hardened, and instead of simply holding Hera off, he started fighting back hard. They battled furiously, blow for blow, their combat ruthless and awful.
Hera’s starlit sword collided with Zeus’s lightning-charged blade, and a ringing flash ripped toward the altar. Bellanca grabbed onto the little magic she’d gathered and hit the thunderbolt head on as it barreled toward them. With fear on her side, her magic was just strong enough to send the bolt sizzling past Apollo’s shoulder. It struck the sandstone wall behind them, crumbling the whole section and leaving the hillside exposed to the harbor.
She swallowed hard, not at all sure she had another surge in her strong enough to deflect more lightning. Ready to shieldCarver with her own body if her magic failed, she watched in stomach-flipping horror as the buildings around the heart of Atlantapol took hit after hit. Athena’s temple caught a direct lightning strike and trembled. The roof blackened, smoldering. Bellanca heard the terrified screams of the people hiding inside, and her heart skipped a beat until the sanctuary settled. After that, Zeus seemed to consciously rein in his power, preventing any more thunderbolts from leaving his sword.
Bellanca prayed—she wasn’t sure to whom—to bring Atlantis through the Olympianomachy without any more destruction. She dared a quick glance at Carver. No change. Dread heaved inside her as she turned back to the battle.
Zeus parried Hera’s next strike, then shoved her away from him. “You’ve always been a force to be reckoned with, but youcan’twin.” The already thunder-colored sky darkened to an apocalyptic gray-green that chilled Bellanca to the marrow. “You’ve lost Atlantians—maybe forever. Attica doesn’t matter anymore. The Underworld is my brother’s.”
A terrible glint lit Hera’s eyes as the two gods hovered above the temple square. “The Underworld has its own problems now.” She smiled cruelly. “But they’re no concern of mine.”
Zeus’s whole face twisted in anger, his mouth a thin line. “Yes. You’ve been busy.”
“I have more allies than you think.” She landed, setting her feet on the ground despite the debris and damage. If Hera’s paleness reflected fatigue instead of a coating of marble dust, she hid it well, keeping her sword up and her steely eyes on her husband.
“Where are they?” Zeus asked coolly, landing in front of her. “I see no allies.”
“They were distracting you so you wouldn’t arrive in time to help Atlantis. But look.” She laughed without humor. “Here you are. Ruining my life again.”
“Isavedyour life.” His searing-white gaze flicked toward the altar, burning a warning over Bellanca before focusing on Hera again. “And you’re ruining your own life now.” Zeus suddenly lowered his sword. “But I’m responsible, too. I’ve betrayed you, ignored you, disregarded your advice. I’m sorry.”
Bellanca’s eyes widened in shock at the same time as Hera’s. Did the king of gods just apologize to his wife?
Hera stared at Zeus, seeming to wait for more. When nothing followed, her voice rising, she said, “You’re sorry?”
Zeus’s thunderbolt blade vanished, reabsorbed into the cosmos. “Yes.” Taking a cautious step forward, he held out an empty hand. A small olive tree grew from his palm, new and delicate now but with so much potential to turn sturdy and strong. Hera glared at the peace offering. “And I’m sorry it’s come to this,” he said gravely.
