Zeus narrowed his eyes. He didn’t seem to believe her and neither did Bellanca—or not entirely. “Today ends Circe’s imprisonment. She goes to Attica stripped of her powers and to live in a world without magic to tempt her into cruelties and troubles. Aeaea is looking for a new queen. You wanted an island? You shall have one—one that offers no escape to other worlds. And you wanted a throne? Then you shall have one, my love. And you shall have it alone.”
In a bright flash of lightning and a dark rumble of thunder, a granite-faced Zeus exiled Hera and Hephaestus to Circe’s island.
Zeus
I have endless hours to do endless things differently, and still, I fail.
I stare out to sea, watching for the moment Hera lands on Aeaea. Her new prison. Her high throne, where she’ll rule as queen over a monster, a mindless horde, and a magical garden without exit. Disgust floods me. Not for her—though it’ll take decades to swallow my anger over her damage to Atlantis and to the Underworld—but for me. The betrayals of this day lay my faults and failures bare.
I hear the humans talking, humans Ididcare more about than my own sons who stabbed me in the back today. But some are eternal. Others aren’t, and their very fleetingness makes them so interesting. What can a person accomplish in a lifetime? The miniscule timeframe makes it infinitely fascinating to see how hard they work, how fiercely they struggle, how passionately they love.
“We’re safe,” I hear the Firebringer whisper to her husband. They signed no documents in any temple, but I witnessed their claiming and blessed their bond with the gift of immunity to her magic for him and an echo of the shard’s power existing in him for her. Both already served them.
“We’re together,” he murmurs back. I hear his heart beating ferociously. For her. For them. For Atlantis, too.
That makes me glad.
My own heart beats in the seemingly empty cavern of my chest.Safe and together.That’s all they ultimately want, in this life and in the afterlife.
“I can’t believe it’s over,” she says.
Carver chuckles. Humor is another thing humans hold on to, sometimes against all odds, and even when the sound is hoarse and cracked. “Did you want it to last?”
I smile, too. I’m not sure how. Maybe their interactions give me hope. After all, they hated each other for a while.
A bright light finally flashes on the landmass in the distance. Hera and Hephaestus reaching their new home.
I feel the joy explode in the Firebringer’s hot, magic-charged blood. She’s regaining her strength, and happiness can only help. “Oh my gods, Carver. If Hera went to Aeaea, and that was the god bolt dropping her off…”
Ah.Even without magic to connect us, I feel the joy bursting inside Carver, as well. They understand things quickly, these two. Except concerning their soul bond. That took ages—in human terms. “Then Zeus didn’t raise Atlantis wherever it used to be. He raised it near Circe’s island.” Carver exhales sharply, his smile blinding, even with my back to them and my eyes on Hera’s new throne. I also scan the ocean for my brother. He’s the one who raised the island. We chose the location together. “We’re a boat ride from home.”
Her smile blinds me, too. I see it on the inside, so bright and pure, from this human, who for years, never smiled with any true joy at all. “We’ll see our family again.”
“You’re my family,” he says instantly. I listen, interested, because I seem to have lessons to assimilate in the ways of pleasing a wife.
“I know.” I hear their kiss even though the sound is just a whisper of lips. “But now, we can have both.”
I stare southward toward Aeaea, even my eyesight improved from the potency of Atlantis’s worshippers. I can thank them for my victory today. Them, and the allies who came to my aid. A son, three daughters, and two brothers who have never failed me. Maybe because I’ve relied on them regularly and made them feel seen.
My throat thick with more emotion than I’ve felt in centuries, I turn to Apollo. “You did good work today.”
He shrugs, his beauty striking, even to me. “I missed the battle.”
“You waged a different one, and it was important to me. It’s not an easy feat, what you did. No human bit by an Olympian viper has ever lived. You had your own battle on your hands, and you won.”
Frowning thoughtfully, Apollo glances at the humans. “Why are they so important to you?”
I’m not sure how to answer. Maybe I don’t exactly know. I place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze. “They inspire me. I’m the ancient one, but from them, sometimes, I learn.”
I wonder if my son will scoff at me, but he simply nods. “Maybe I’ll take to watching humans, too. It seems interesting.”
Something in my chest shifts. Perhaps, I haven’t failed every son of mine. “Go to the temples,” I tell him. “Help with the injured. Save who you can and gift an obol to anyone who’s already gone if they’re not in possession of one. You’ll long be worshipped in Atlantis. It will bring you great strength for decades to come.” Apollo nods, turns, and strides across the rubble-strewn square.
I frown at the damage to the heart of Atlantapol. Rough and pitted ground. Ruined temples. Battered buildings. Blackened trees. Stones and wreckage all around. The dead, scattered across the square.
I’ll have to remedy this somehow. It’s Hera’s fault, so inadvertently mine.
I turn to Athena and Artemis next. Perhaps the fact that they’ve eschewed mates makes them still feel like true children of mine. They belong to no one else—except themselves. “You are my heart and joy. Thank you for your help today.”
