Chapter 16
Carver looked at Bel. What was he to do with her?
She could defend herself—he’d always known that. But he hated that she’d gone off without him. And he hated that she’d drugged him. But his desire to rail at her for those things snuffed out the second she explained what happened in the most unnatural of monotones. She’d rescued Cleito only to lose her—a sister.
Bel tried to bury her devastation under a blank wall, but that just told Carver how bad it really was. Bel didn’t do expressionless. Her face was always in motion, every thought that popped into her mind manifesting across her features as if it needed to jump out and be heard. Same with her tongue. Impassive and quiet just gave away the true extent of her pain and made her palpable grief even more heavy in his heart and loud to his ears.
She stared vacantly across the table at him. Dragging himself out of bed and sitting up hadn’t been as hard as he’d feared, though he was careful not to let his back touch the chair. “Cleito spoke to you. That’s something,” he murmured in what encouragement he could give. “She recognized you.”
“Recognized me? She was a day old when Hera took her.”
“She’s a Chaos Wizard. Time has no meaning.”
“It has meaningnow.” Some of the usual snap crept into Bel’s voice. “I have to retrieve the shard and return magic to Atlantis with the claim that it’s all thanks to Hera’s generosity and compassion, or she’ll kill Cleito.”
And if they did that, Bel failed in her mission, failed all the gods who’d planted her here for the exact opposite purpose. “If we keep the shard out of Eryx’s hands, at least he can’t claim to save Atlantis.”
She sighed. “I suppose. We can at least make sure he never gets the fourth ingredient for his ceremony.”
“Hera obviously doesn’t care who’s leading Atlantis, what human king or queen, as long as she gains the support Zeus wanted from Atlantians for herself.”
Bel nodded. “Other than learning a few things, last night was an absolute failure. I lost my sister.” Her voice went dead flat again.
“You punished Eryx.” Carver wished he’d seen that.
“I don’t even care.” She glanced at her hands, not toying with any flames as she almost always did when they were alone. “It seems…petty now.”
“It seems like he got what he deserved.”
She sat there, loss drenching her in shadow when she was usually so godsdamned bright, and the ache in Carver’s chest pitched toward his stomach. He’d never seen her like this.
“Cat wouldn’t have done it.” Her eyes found his again. “She’d have taken the high road. Somehow.”
Carver snorted. “Cat’s used some fire whips of her own, and it was definitely revenge-oriented. She also melted an entire army to keep them away from Griffin. But a lot changed, even before you met her. It’s her role now to show people,anyone, that they can strive for forgiveness—if they want it.”
Bellanca lifted her chin and sniffed once. Carver refused to call it a sniffle. “There are a lot of things I didn’t do when I probably should’ve, but this is the first time I’ve actually tried to do something important and failed.”
“How did you fail?” Leaning forward, he shook his head.The sewn-up skin on his back stretched painfully, and he fought off a wince. “Cleito might be better off with Hera than with Eryx—temporarily, anyway—and your sister gaveyouthe knowledge she’s been struggling to hide from him for years. He’d already tortured three of the four items from her. How long until she either gave up the fourth or he killed her trying to get the information?”
“Persephone never mentioned anything about needing other ingredients.” Bel’s troubled gaze flicked to the floorboard hiding the medallion the goddess had slipped around her neck. “Even if we reunite the amulet with the shard, will it be enough to bring back magic?”
“Well, I’m not sacrificing a virgin,” Carver said sourly. Bel’s lips seemed to twitch. “Persephone brought you and the amulet here, Athena apparently brought the shard from Attica, and now Cleito’s told us where Athena hid it. It’s all coming together.”
“Except why do I only need the amulet, and Eryx needs a whole ceremony? Could he know something we don’t?”
“You’re already Magoi—and a powerful one. Eryx isn’t. That has to make a difference.”
She shrugged. “Maybe. But if not, we can probably steal the ceremonial knife and chalice from him. As for virgin blood…” Her eyes narrowed in thought. “How much blood? Maybe just a few drops.” She looked at her arm as if ready to slice it open and offer up a vein.
“Maybe. But ‘sacrificial virgin’ seems like a death sentence and not just a cut that will heal.”
Her face fell, but at least that meant her forced impassivity was finally passing, thank the gods. “Persephone said to use my magic to ‘fan the flames.’ A little more guidance would’ve been nice.”
Carver grimaced, part hot, pulsating pain in his back, partannoyance. “The gods are all about a nudge here, a confusing shove there. Which way the wind should blow to serve some mysterious purpose or where to plant a seed of rebellion or a magical gift. If Athena had the shard, she should’ve just given it to us.”
Bel scoffed. “You know the gods don’t work that way. First, we might not have been here yet when Athena planted the shard. Second, the gods gave humans free will and expect us to use it. I wouldn’t trade the freedom of my choices, even within the outline of a bigger destiny, for all the clear directions in the worlds. Humans rule humans—for good, for bad, forever. The gods are separate. They live out their immortal lives on Mount Olympus and dabble in human affairs for entertainment and to serve capricious needs or desires they might have. They’re not there to hand us what we need to live, change, evolve, rebel… We’re responsible for ourselves. They are guiding, though. Helping those they choose to pull into their schemes and plans. We’ve seen it ourselves. And if we offend them too badly, we get a god bolt from Zeus.”
“Or an island without magic.” Carver glanced out the window, the blazing sunshine almost an assault on his somber mood. “But it’s not about us this time. It’s about them—theirwar.”
