Bel brightened. He didn’t see actual sparks, but her hair regained some of its fiery luster, and her skin grew more luminous, shining with a pearly glow. “That’s true in a way, but their war for control of Mount Olympus affects us, and we have a role to play.” She drummed her fingers on the table, magic starting to gleam again in her jewel-bright eyes. “But at least they play by the same rules. Zeus sent Athena and Poseidon to help us in Thalyria. We received cryptic guidance and timely gifts, but they didn’tdothe fighting on our behalf orsolvethe problems forus. Persephone brought us to Atlantis to help Zeus, but her intervention ended there. And here, Hera used Pan and his satyrs to go after the shard, and she sent Hephaestus’s automatons to gather her potential Magoi army and try to kill me, but she didn’t just pop into our house and slit my throat.”
Our house.A fist seemed to latch on to Carver’s heart and squeeze. “She took Cleito herself.”
“She said I forced her hand.” Bel frowned. “Now Cleito’s her hostage, and I have to choose.”
Carver watched her carefully, the pain in his back throbbing like a second heartbeat under his skin. “So who do you choose? Hera or Zeus?” Now that they knew who they were up against, it was even worse than he’d thought. Hera was ancient, powerful, vindictive, andfurious. She wasn’t wrong to be angry, but she relentlessly took out her rage on beings that rarely had anything to do with the cause of her fury. She was finally taking the fight straight to Zeus—where it belonged—but she was still endangering the lives and happiness of innocent people to get to him. Hera’s eons of seething had twisted the goddess into a being Carver didn’t want to help, especially now that it was personal. She’d endangered his brother and Cat, their whole family in Thalyria, and their new kingdom. She’d sent automaton harpies to try to throw Bel out the window. She’d stolen Bel’s sister from the cradle and condemned a confused, vulnerable soul to a life of fear and torture with Eryx. And now she’d taken Cleito and was holding her for ransom. At this point, Carver was more likely to want to stab Hera in the eye than to help her steal Zeus’s throne from him.
But in the end, it was up to Bellanca. This was her mission, her future kingdom. He waited.
Bel twisted the ring on her finger—her fake wedding band. Her mouth turned down, and worry darkened her features.“Let’s get the Shard of Olympus. Then we’ll see how it goes.” Despite her words, she reached out and traced a slow Z on the table with her finger. Her gaze lifted, meeting his.
Carver nodded. For all his faults, Zeus it was. “And Cleito?” he whispered, barely mouthing the words.
The pain in her eyes speared him like a dagger as she sat back, wrapping her arms around herself. “I don’t know.”
He didn’t, either. He just hoped they’d find a way. “One step at a time,” he said, giving her a firm look he hoped conveyed his determination to do everything in his power to rescue her sister.
She nodded, then her eyes skimmed over him, questioning. “When do you think you’ll be ready to travel? And to try to dive for the shard?”
“Without a Magoi healer, it’ll be a long time before I can safely do any of that.” He nodded toward her hands. “Besides, there are still your wrists.” Those burns hadn’t disappeared overnight, no matter how well Bel ignored them.
Resignation dimmed her inner glow again. “Then we wait.”
He grunted, and it didn’t sound pretty. “You mean you won’t drug me and run off alone?”
Her face sharpening, her words sharper, she snapped, “I will if you want me to.”
“Is that what I said? I think it was the opposite.”
“I think it was sarcasm.” Fire snaked down a red curl. “And it was annoying.”
He let the driest of smiles lift his lips. “At last. She understands sarcasm.”
“Is that more of it? It’s still annoying.”
“Sarcasm is annoying,” he ground out. “Waking up groggy to find you half-catatonic with grief isveryupsetting.”
“You needed to rest after what happened with Eryx, and I could do what needed to be done. Hera would’ve taken Cleitowhether you were with me or not. No one could’ve foreseen that.”
His huff was so intense it hurt his aching back. “Is that your apology?”
“Do Ineedto apologize?” He simply stared across the table at her, a mix of emotion and fury making his pulse pound too hard. “Fine.” She finally waved a hand and still-bandaged wrist over the table. “I’m sorry I drugged you—lightly—but I’m not sorry I went on my own. Your being there wouldn’t have changed anything, and it could’ve put you in danger. There was no point in that.”
“Ah, so I’m pointless now? Useless, maybe?”
Her jaw fell open. “Isthatwhat I said?”
Carver already started to regret the things coming out of his mouth, but his temper rose faster than the Atlantian tide, and it was too late to stop. “You didn’t have to. We already know you can do everything you need to on your own.”He’dfollowed her to Atlantis. She’d never once said she wanted him to come.
Sparks popped in her hair. “Oh my gods, what is wrong with you?” Her eyes suddenly widened. “Oh. How bad is your back? Is it really hurting you?” Her face quickly softened with concern.
An icy-hot blast tore through him from head to foot. He didn’t need her pity. He needed whatever would stop his gut from twisting every time he looked at her and his heart from hammering every time she got near. “I’ll survive,” he muttered.
She didn’t seem to notice his volcanic stare. “I know that, but how awful is it? Do you need something? Food? Tea? More herbs?”
“It’s fine,” Carver hissed.
Frowning, she hmphed. Loudly.
