“And nearly get ripped to shreds by angry centaurs again? No thanks.”
“We only have a day. We won’t get anywhere near the border.” Or the herd of bloodthirsty centaurs living on the land around Mount Olympus. They’d ventured into magical creature territory just once and had barely escaped with their lives.
“Then what’s the point? We’ve already searched Atlantapol from top to bottom. Before we had jobs, we searched everywhere else. The closest we came to answers was in the conspirator’s cave, and we both know how that turned out.”
Interestingly, to say the least—and with several fresh bruises now coloring his ribs. “How’s the new magic?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Different than what I’m used to. It’s not a burst of flame I can clearly see and shape and aim. It’s bright light. Pure heat. It’s harder to direct and contain.”
“Is it controllable?”
“It’s always controllable. I just need practice.”
“Not on me, I hope.”
She smiled a little evilly. “Only if you start scratching your face again.”
He supposed he deserved that. He sat back, this time lacing his hands behind his head as he balanced on the back legs of his chair. He both dreaded and looked forward to their days off together. Bel entertained him. She also made him feel like fire ants were gnawing at him until he wanted to scream.
Their days off were also the only times they could concentrate on their mission without Atlantis getting in the way. It still did, but at least it was the Atlantis they were supposed to do something about and not the Atlantis everyone here simply accepted. It seemed unfair that the island was so beautiful when all you had to do was turn over a stone to find the rot.
An itchy sort of disgust rose inside him, always quick to bubble up these days. Ritual murders. Inequality. A cruel and abusive king more focused on magic he didn’t even have than on a people he did.
And now kidnappings. Families torn to shreds.
“What are you brooding about now?” Bel eyed him over her amulet.
He eyed the necklace Persephone put around Bel’s neck the day she sent her off to Atlantis with the vague instructions to bring back magic. “Just because I haven’t said anything for a while doesn’t mean I’m brooding.”
Looking dubious, she ran her fingertip up and down the empty groove in the center of the palm-sized bronze circle. “It doesn’t mean you’re not, and my money’s on brooding.”
Fine, she was right. But then, whenwasn’the brooding?
“Cleito,” he rumbled darkly. Since they hadn’t found the missing piece of the medallion—this Shard of Olympus—their best option now was trying to get clues or instructions out of Eryx’s oracle, Cleito. The most inaccessible person on the island.
“You’ll get there,” she said. “Soon, I think.”
Bel’s apparent faith in him just frustrated him more, and Carver let the front legs of his chair come down with athwack. One of the ten children in the household below theirs immediately started howling. Wincing, he mouthed an apology toward the floor and especially toward the family’s overworked mother, Dione.
Bel looked at him with the kind of annoyance no one else could duplicate. “Perfect. Now Dione knows we’re here, and she’s going to try to hand off at least four of those kids to us by lunchtime.”
Carver groaned. “Watching them is like trying to herd butterflies. They all flit off in different directions and have no concept of danger.” His gaze immediately honed in on their stash of weapons, both his swords, Bel’s little-used blade, and several knives. “We’ll have to hide those.”
Bel shrugged, not making any move to conceal all the dangerous objects that were closer to her than to him. “Kids like playing with knives. I did.”
“Of course you did.”
She glanced up sharply. “What’s that supposed to mean? You were practically born with a sword in your hand. Why couldn’t I have knives?”
“First of all, I wasn’tplayingwith a sword. I was defending lives. Second, you had magic. You didn’t need knives.”
“You know as well as I do that magic doesn’t manifest until the early teens. You were defending lives? Well, I was defending myself. Someone had to.” She looked away, sunlight splashing across the top of her head like a fiery crown. “Not everyone has the luxury of sane and loving families, you know.”
Carver didn’t respond and regretted his offhand comment now. As the fourth child out of five, Bel hadn’t been close enough to the throne to be an immediate threat to her parents or to her older siblings, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been used, abused, and traumatized in countless ways. He knew she’d stepped in to defend her weaker sisters when she could, but he didn’t know much else. The details would probably consume him with rage.
Bel suddenly set the amulet on the table and pitched forward, glaring at him. “If Dione drops off evenoneof those kids, you’d better not leave me here by myself. You know I’m terrible with children. They always stare at me like I’m a three-headed beast.”
“That’s because you fascinate them.”
