Thalyria
There was nothing like coming back to loved ones, even if his home was an ocean crossing away now. Carver looked around the family room in Castle Thalyria, taking in the faces one by one. He relaxed into his chair, a niece in the crook of one arm and a nephew in the crook of the other. His brother and sister had been busy. Jocasta and Flynn’s little girl, Angelia, was possibly the cutest thing he’d ever seen, with bright blue eyes and jet-black hair, just like his sister. And Griffin and Cat’s second child was a boy they’d called Kato, named after a great warrior and friend. He already promised to have a strong sword arm and cranky disposition, just like his father. For the moment, though, he had less hair.
Little Eleni, who’d just turned two, played near the hearth with Cerberus. In the month since they’d been there, Carver had discovered that the hound and the child were inseparable, she was immune to his poison slobber, and he loved to pick her up and toss her from mouth to mouth like a plaything. Carver had nearly died of heart failure the first time he saw Cerberus jump out a third-floor window with Eleni clenched in his massive jaws. He’d since discovered it was a regular occurrence.
Surrounded by family, and knowing more family patiently awaited their return, he took a deep, satisfied breath. Bel, as attuned to him as ever, caught his eye and smiled at him from across the room. Carver knew his father had just remarked—ashe did every evening after dinner—on her lack of “incendiary incidents,” and so she explained to his parents—as she did every evening—how she controlled her sparking so much better now. She still flamed up when she wanted to, but without battles to fight and enemies to burn or Carver to torment with her acidic tongue, she’d channeled her considerable energy into what was shaping up to be her true love—other than him, of course. Teaching Magoi.
Ruling the island kingdom was one thing—a necessary part of life for them both now—but Bel spent every free moment she had instructing new Magoi on how to use and tame and increase their powers. While Carver occupied the castle yards keeping the royal army—which consisted of menandwomen now—sword sharp and battle ready in case Atlantis ever needed them, Bel’s preferred training venue was the big temple square and olive grove above the harbor with the beautiful white-and-red statue of Atlantia watching over them.
Carver smiled back at his wife, grateful to her for showing uncharacteristic patience and pretending not to notice that his father asked the same questions night after night. Anatole’s deterioration saddened him, but Carver wasn’t surprised. It had begun a long time ago in the body. Now, it was the mind. He was just thankful they’d come back when they did, because he wasn’t sure his father would recognize him, or anyone, the next time they might be able to visit Thalyria.
As for his mother, Nerissa had grown a touch grayer but was still as plump and spry and authoritative as ever. Carver dreaded the day she lost her husband—and he lost his father—but he knew she’d be well loved and cared for in this household. Two of her children lived here. Her grandchildren adored her. Cerberus did, too, though he attempted to be grumpy and growly at her until Nerissa gave him a bone the size of an armchair every morning.
Flynn, Jocasta, Angelia, and Bellanca’s younger sister Lystra all lived in the western province of Sinta now. They’d come as soon as they’d heard about his and Bel’s surprise arrival at Castle Thalyria and would stay until they left again soon. Carver’s older sister Egeria had arrived as well with her partner Lenore, and of course, Kaia still lived at home and had been overjoyed to see them. Her usual exuberance and athleticism had shown through in her every word and move, though she’d matured so much in mind and body that Carver had barely recognized her at first. His little sister had grown into her role as head of the Thalyrian army under Cat and Griffin’s guidance, taking over from him and Bel. One thing still hadn’t changed, and that was that Prometheus stuck like a burr to Kaia’s side, guiding and protecting her.
Kaia and Prometheus were as inseparable as little Eleni and Cerberus, though Carver was happy to see that their relationship appeared to be entirely platonic. He wasn’t ready to see Kaia in love with anyone, let alone an eons-old, recently tortured, immortal god. He didn’t miss how the captain of the guard, Lukos, still looked at Kaia. He didn’t think anyone missed it except for Kaia, who seemed just as oblivious to Lukos’s pining now as she had been before.
He shifted his gaze to the side, the two children a gentle weight in his arms. Griffin and Cat sat next him, reading the last of the day’s scrolls from around the kingdom. Griffin looked interested and absorbed while Cat had a good-gods-do-I-really-have-to-read-this wrinkle to her nose.
Carver inwardly chuckled. Griffin was a born ruler, and Cat was a born protector. Between them, Thalyria was in good hands. And after everything they’d been through together, from kidnappings to battles to curses, they deserved every moment of peace and happiness life could offer. Carver wished them alifetime of joy and knew he and Bel had mended one more part of their still healing hearts when they’d come back to them.
The long wait to visit Thalyria had weighed on Carver, but nearly a year and a half had gone by before Bel and he had felt comfortable leaving Atlantis. Ruling meant doing for the island, not for themselves, and despite Zeus’s incredible help, there’d still been much to rebuild and repair, both materially and among the people. New laws were in place and an equilibrium was slowly taking hold, though it would take generations for the ingrained misogynistic ways to truly fade. They also hadn’t been sure accessing the continent of Thalyria would be easy, but it turned out that getting past Charybdis was no problem without Scylla to attack from the other side. Unfortunately, now Fisan pirates knew it, too, so it was a good thing Atlantis already had a strong army of Magoi and Hoi Polloi soldiers in place to protect their shores, both from land and sea.
They’d also needed to leave people they trusted and had trained in charge. During their absence, Cleito and Dex—now married—ruled Atlantis. Cleito was perfectly lucid most days—barring the sudden vision or brief, unforeseen detour into her own mind—and currently next in line for the throne. She was Bel’s only blood relation in Atlantis, though Carver hoped for children and was even beginning to suspect that they might be in for a wonderful surprise soon. Dex headed the healers’ guild and had established several new healing centers around the populated areas of the island with both Magoi and Hoi Polloi working together, and Silas was captain of the royal guard.
Dione and her family lived in a wing of the castle, taking up most of it, and she ran the royal household with an entire staff under her. Her husband, Tereus, still did absolutely nothing, but at least Dione had help and lived more comfortably now. Aikaterini had continued on at Spiro’s, which was now the mostfamous and frequented taverna on the island. They’d expanded and hired more staff, though that didn’t stop Theophania from happily working harder than everyone else. Lilika and Dimitri awaited their firstborn, and Spiro had already proudly prepared a plush little cradle for his first grandchild right next to his throne of cushions in the center of the taverna. Bel invited them to the castle several times a week, insisting they should eat some meals they didn’t have to prepare themselves, but it was really because she wanted to see them daily and chat and laugh, just as she’d done when she’d worked at Spiro’s.
As for Pav, he and his guard units kept the peace in the different districts of Atlantapol and out into the countryside, where farms and orchards thrived now with the resurgence of elemental magic to help bring water to the often rain-deprived land.
After months of settling everything and everyone into place, including themselves, they’d finally looked around, breathed, and realized they could set sail for Thalyria.
Everyone still wondered about Zeus and Hera. Had he gone to her on Aeaea? Had they talked? Carver believed the ex-queen of Mount Olympus had mistaken wanting more power over her own existence for simply wanting more power. The line had blurred in her mind and then become the same thing over centuries of fury and resentment. He thought there might be a second chance for her in the future, but it would be generations from now. Maybe they’d hear about it in the Underworld.
Next to him, Cat stood and stretched. Griffin followed her to her feet.
“It’s time to get the children to bed,” she said with a yawn. “Plus, that scroll is putting me to sleep.”
Griffin chuckled, arching a brow. “Thatscroll?”
“Allscrolls.” Grimacing, she rubbed her eyes. “I’d ratherfight the Hydra again than read one more report about proper grain storage or the price of beans.”
Having read many a scroll now about the price of beans, Carver understood what she meant. “Think of finishing each scroll like chopping off a head,” he suggested, handing Cat her now-sleeping infant. Jocasta and Flynn’s little one settled into the center of his lap now that she had more room. Still awake, Angelia watched and listened to everything, just like her mother, and Carver had no doubt she’d be just as clever and fierce.
“Exactly.” Cat tucked little Kato against her chest. “You finish off one and suddenly three more appear. They never end.”
Carver grinned. Then Anatole coughed and had trouble catching his breath again. All three of their gazes lingered on the old man.
“It’s good you came when you did,” Griffin said quietly. “Now, neither of you will have regrets when the time comes.”
A weight pulled at Carver’s heart despite his brother’s comforting words. “I might not be here at the end. It might take too long to send word.”
“You’re here now—when he still remembers. And you gave him news about Piers. That, along with you and Bellanca coming home, brought him better health than we’ve seen in months.”
Carver nodded, his throat hot and thick. He’d been able to share the news he’d learned from Persephone about their exiled brother in Attica. Piers lived. He’d found someone—his soulmate. And he’d helped get the Shard of Olympus to Athena and, through her, to them.
As for Persephone, no one here had seen her in months, and they were beginning to fear that the plots Hera had stirred up in the Underworld to keep certain gods occupied while she set her Olympianomachy into motion would have dire consequences on them all—especially in death.
“Anatole is happy,” Cat said. “He knows his time is near, but he has the conviction of a life well lived and important deeds accomplished. He loves and is loved. He’s surrounded by family. There’s nothing better than that.”
