Lingering resentment hardened Dex’s features as they turned a corner and Mount Olympus came into view through the wide, arching windows. On a clear day, Atlantians could see the high peak from almost any hilltop on the island. All three of them took in the imposing sight before returning to their hushed conversation.
“Maybe still cursing the gods is what’s keeping Punishment in place here.” In Carver’s experience—which was greater than most people’s—Olympians didn’t like their methods being called into question.
“We still go to the temples and pray like we’re supposed to, but should wethankthem for depriving us?” Dex—who’d never known a hint of magic in his lifetime—held on to the same bitterness of all ancestral Magoi here about the loss of it. “I suppose, at this point, there’s no way to know if the healing gift still runs in my bloodline. It could be gone, even if Eryx manages to bring back magic.”
Silas sighed. “What are we deprived of? The island gives us everything we need, and absent gods might not be a bad thing considering the power they wield.”
Andmis-wielded sometimes. Olympians brought down unjust punishments just as easily on their own kind as on human beings and on entire worlds.
Carver’s eyes strayed again to the palace-topped peak of Mount Olympus through the next open window. As far as anyone knew, the gods hadn’t visited Atlantis since Punishment, but everyone still avoided the northern part of the island like the plague. Magical creatures lived there, and just like in Thalyria, there was an unspoken divide. Humans and monsters could live in peace as long as they stayed out of each other’s territory.
They fell silent and the footsteps of all three slowed as they walked down the north side of the throne room in what felt like the shadow of Mount Olympus. Carver eyed the opulent palace, or what he could make out from this distance. Marble always glinted in the sun, and the entire mountaintop looked hard, showy, and treacherous—just like the gods.
Their path took them through the narrow space behind the throne dais and then put their backs to Eryx, offering Carver a blessed moment without having to consciously avoid staring at Cleito. They finally started down the east, ocean-facing side of the room. Hot, dry air breezed through the windows, smelling of salt waves, warm rocks, and orange blossoms. Carver breathed deeply, rolling his shoulders. Once they’d put some distance between them and Eryx, he turned his attention back to his friends.
Emotion snapped in his chest.Friends.He spent most of his days now with these two men. Silas—older and probably wiser than him, with his casual outlook on life, thick muscles, and reddish-brown skin. And Dex… Dex could almost have been Carver’s brother if he’d been born with gray eyes instead of hazel with definite hints of Magoi green. Carver was taller and maybe a little leaner, but their longish black hair and perpetually tanned skin were almost the same.
These were people he knew and liked, but they didn’t really know him, and he couldn’t count on them, or at least he didn’t think so. So wasfriendthe right word? The important people in his life had always been family, whether they were blood-related or not. Or Konstantina.
The tightness in his chest twisted into pain. Carver let out a long, slow breath, loosening the ache. He truly hadn’t thought about her much lately, but there she was, back on his mind. He’d loved her for so long, and then the ghost of her, thinking they’d meet again in the Underworld, and he’d win her back. But when he thought about his future now, in this world or in the next, Konstantina’s face blurred and faded behind a wall of flames.
Frowning, he forced Konstantina from his mind. Devotion was supposed to go both ways.
“Getting magic back is one thing,” he said. “Using it is another. It might not be as intuitive as everyone hopes.” Carver gave Dex a pointed look as he returned to the conversation they’d let trail off as they’d walked past the king and his entourage. “There won’t be anyone who actually knows how to use magic if Punishment ends. No one to teach anyone else.” Bel could help with anything fire-related and the basic dos and don’ts of other powers, but what about the rest?
“Wouldn’t that be a mess?” Silas chuckled. “Magoi will all be like virgins fumbling in the dark.” He arched salt-and-pepper brows, the sheepish humor in his voice seeming to indicate personal experience.
Sacrificial virgin.Carver glanced at Cleito again. “Yeah, something like that.”
Dex pursed his lips. “There are writings.”
“There are writings for sex, too.” Silas clapped Dex on the back. “Not sure I’d have so many kids, otherwise.”
All three of them huffed a laugh, Carver smiling despite his preoccupation with the Chaos Wizard and Eryx. Dex looked genuinely intrigued, as though he’d never considered the idea of self-improvement in the bedroom. If he married, Dex’s future partner should thank Silas for that little pearl of wisdom, especially if Dex was smart enough to borrow some detailed scrolls—with illustrations.
“I’m not convinced magic really needs teaching.” Dex glanced at Silas, then at Carver. “Don’t you just…do it?”
“How should I know?” Carver murmured, even though he did. Magoi spent their entire lives discovering new abilities, honing their skills, and testing their limits. Just look at Bel, suddenly throwing magic from her entire body like a sun flare that was somehow more white-hot light than actual fire. The eruption had been new and unexpected in the cavern and—he thought—accidental on the beach. And luckily, less powerful, or else he’d have been burned to a crisp. Bel would need to master this new magic in order to control what came out of her, when, and how lethal she wanted it to be. It was a process he’d seen unfold with Cat when new abilities, or repressed ones, cropped up. Now Bel was experiencing the same thing. “But sex might actually be a good comparison,” Carver said thoughtfully. “You can probably just do it, but doing it well is something else.”
The look on Bel’s face when they stumbled onto the orgy in the cavern suddenly filled his mind, and heat branched through his abdomen.
“You and that feisty wife of yours obviously figured out how to do it right.” Grinning, Silas dug an elbow into Carver’s ribs.
The heat grew and crawled up Carver’s neck. “Why do you say that?”
Silas scoffed, still smiling. “The way you two look at each other. Like no one else exists.”
“It’s true.” Nodding, Dex chuckled. “You lucky bastard. Tell us the secret.”
Carver’s skin prickled all over, a hot-cold chill running the length of him. His heart beat hard. Bel was Bel—irritating, obtusely blunt, powerful, a pain in his backside, and the only person whoknewhim, inside and out. They were a team, but they’d never been intimate. So why was getting his lips on hers suddenly all he could think about?
His voice rasping, he said, “I don’t kiss and tell.” He cleared his throat. He didn’t kiss at all. One failed attempt had left him with singed eyebrows.
He’d been close to trying again last night and had almost convinced himself Bel might welcome it before realizing he shouldn’t push. He’d never seen her as shaken as after the automaton attack. A lot had already happened, and then he’d put some things out there that might be even more shocking than another attempted kiss.
What if it doesn’t have to be fake anymore?Panic jolted him. Had those words been a huge mistake? He couldn’t believe he’d uttered them. Stranger still, he wouldn’t take them back. He couldn’t imagine a lifetime—and beyond—with Bel. They’d kill each other a thousand times over. The problem was, he couldn’t imagine a lifetime and beyond without her, either. She’d somehow become his whole world.
Mounting horror made him break out in a cold sweat as they continued their ambling patrol around the perimeter of the throne room. Bel hadn’t exactly reacted to those words as he’d hoped. Her skin had turned a violent red, and her shock-wide eyes had stopped him cold in his tracks. The look of complete and total alarm on her face punched him in the gut again, just as it had last night. What if he’d destroyed the only thing he actually had? What if he’d made them both uncomfortable tothe point of ruining their friendship? All he’d truly gotten out of Bel last night was that she wanted what she already had—a partner and a friend.
