Persephone set down the basket she carried, her alert gaze not missing Bellanca’s twin handprints charred into the table. Her lips curved in another real and oddly triumphant smile. “I had a bet with Hades. He said this”—she waved a hand back and forth between them—“youwouldn’t happen unless Bellanca finished her mission. I said you’d have given into primal urgesby now. I clearly won, and now my husband owes me a new three-headed dog. Cat and Griffin kept mine,” she added sourly.
Carver went rigid beside her, and Bellanca felt heat blast off her body. It wasn’t her magic. It was a flaming blush consuming her. The rulers of the Underworld hadbeton them? Did gods really have no better way to spend their time? Trying to avoid worlds-wide wars, for example?
“Surely you didn’t come all the way here just to tell us you’d won a bet?” Carver flexed his hand between their bodies and then angled his fingers to grip Bellanca’s hand in his. He barely winced, but she had to wonder how badly his back was hurting him. When he put his mind to it, he was exceptionally good at hiding his pain, whether it was below the surface or above. It could make a person forget—or get swept away by kisses.
Her body still thrummed from the way they’d touched and moved together. She’d been so fearful of being awkward and stiff and unattractive, but Carver had made her feel the exact opposite. She’d stopped worrying and second-guessing and justdid—like during battle.
Relief shot through her. If intimacy was like fighting, she could do it.
Persephone whisked an amused look in her direction, as though reading her thoughts and finding them entertaining. “I didn’t even know I’d won the bet until I popped into your home. That was a stroke of luck. Omniscience is a clutter in the mind and a burden of time, and most Olympians don’t bother watching humans unless they’re looking for something in particular.” Her head slanted to one side, her gaze sharpening on them. “Zeus, however, never misses a chance to spy, which is how he knows you’re loyal.” She reached to the side and traced a large Z on the table.
A flash of panic hit Bellanca like a quick, sharp punch. Shecould only hope that Hera had decided not to burden herself or clutter her mind with omniscience right now, or she’d also know which side Bellanca had chosen. And what if Bellanca had chosen differently with Zeus watching? Would a god bolt have come through the window and carried her off to Tartarus for eternal punishment?
“It’s also how we finally know who the enemy is. Zeus was watching you, and you forced Hera to reveal herself when you stole Cleito from Eryx.” Persephone offered the warmest smile Bellanca had ever seen from her. “Well done, Firebringer.”
Bellanca swallowed. So the king of godshadwitnessed her throwing his name around at the castle. Luckily, that turned out all right. The rest hadn’t. “Can you help me get my sister back?”
Persephone’s smile faded, and disgust swept across her face like a spring storm. “Cleito was a surprise, too—though it makes sense with your Thalyrian sister’s lack of magic.” She shook her head, hard, silvery ice frosting over any remaining humor or warmth in her eyes. “Hera’s been busy for decades.”
“No wonder we never received her help in Thalyria,” Carver said sourly. “She wouldn’t ally with Zeus, even though she hadn’t yet overtly stood against her husband.”
“We should’ve known.” Persephone’s features hardened even more, the ice spreading until it glittered around her eyes like snow. “No one really questioned Hera’s absence because she’s been giving Zeus the cold shoulder for centuries.” She glanced out the window, as if directing her next words to the god himself. “That said, he hasn’t done anything to make her warm to him again, either.”
Bellanca looked out the window, too, hoping Persephone’s words reached Zeus’s all-hearing ears. If the King and Queen of Mount Olympus could make up, maybe they’d stop endangering humans and worlds.
“My sister.” She looked at Persephone again. “What about Cleito?”
“Hera has Cleito now.” Persephone shrugged in the infuriating way of deities who cared about a select few mortals and considered the rest to be expendable. “Defeat Hera. Get Cleito.”
“I doubt it’s that easy,” Bellanca ground out. “She threatened to cast Cleito to her death if I didn’t make all of Atlantis believe she’d singlehandedly saved them from Zeus’s Punishment.”
“And perhaps she will.” Persephone frowned, as if not quite understanding the problem. “It can’t change your course of action.”
“Can’t it?” There had to be a way to choose Zeus over an embittered, power-hungry goddess and still save her sister.
The frost melted from Persephone’s eyes and skin, sympathy peeking through like a watery sun. She still shook her head in denial. “Atlantis could sway the balance of power. Youmustcomplete your mission.”
“The balance of power?” Carver asked.
“If you proclaim that Hera ended Punishment—if you actually bring back magic and allow Atlantis to rise again—the islanders will love her. They’ll flock to her temples with prayers and offerings. They’ll be grateful for magic, for the true horizon, for the end of the daily sacrifices—something she should have been more concerned with than her decades of plotting,” Persephone added darkly. “They’ll rejoice in her name, and Hera’s power will be bolstered by the worshippers of Atlantis while Zeus gains nothing from them—and probably even suffers from their lingering resentment. And since they receive nearly equal devotion in Thalyria, that gives Hera the magical advantage.”
“Then she can openly challenge Zeus?” Carver looked sick at the possibility.
Persephone nodded. “They’ll battle for the high throne. And destruction will follow.”
The goddess’s awful words sank through Bellanca like a shipwreck. Was this why Persephone was here? To warn her to stick to her mission, despite Cleito’s life hanging in the balance? “But how can humans going to temples and tossing their coins at a holy man dedicated to this Olympian or that one make such a difference to millennia-old gods with colossal power?” She just didn’t see how it was possible.
“I’ll show you.” Persephone suddenly let off a bright pulse of translucent green power. The scent of spring rain and new grass filled their lodgings—along with a monstrous humanlike doll that hung over the table between them. It had four legs, four arms, and a head with two faces. It was two separate people, but they were joined together.
“The immense importance of human fealty to the balance of power on Mount Olympus is a well-kept secret. Otherwise, humans would wage constant wars over it. Every prayer and offering feeds a god’s power. They also directly affect the magic a god can wield—the might and scope of it.” Persephone pointed to the hovering doll. “When humans were first created, they resembled this. They were two souls joined as one, bonded and building off each other. They reached surprising heights of strength and courage—enough to endanger the rule of gods and worry core Olympians. When human power as a bonded pair became apparent, especially with magic involved, the gods came together to decide how to eliminate the threat. Some wanted to simply eradicate humanity—Hera included—but others had already understood the impact humans could have on their strength and reach. As cults grew and temples were erected in the names of the most prominent Olympians, those who received the most prayers and tributes from faithful followers gained in force and awareness and intensity. Zeus stood at the forefront already, his followers the most numerous. Heunderstood the importance of worship in his name and found a solution that didn’t involve striking down all people. Do you know what happened?” Her questioning gaze flicked over them both.
Beside her, Carver shook his head, but Bellanca knew the ancient history from childhood lessons with royal tutors. “Zeus ripped them in half.” She looked at the two-faced doll, her stomach flipping over. “He separated every soulmate to cull their strength, but he saved humanity from destruction.”
Persephone nodded. “Zeus’s plan not only spared humanity from annihilation, but it also doubled the number of living worshippers throughout the worlds. Attica. Thalyria. Atlantis.” She reached out and tore the doll in two, and Bellanca could’ve sworn she heard the screams of a million broken souls cry out inside her. She sucked in a breath, and Carver squeezed her hand. Their fingers locked together, their grip on each other crushing.
“But humans were despondent,” Persephone continued. “They’d lost the other half that made them whole. Apollo took pity and decided to ease their pain. He closed the gaping holes in their flesh, leaving only the navel as a reminder that they’d once been attached to another living being. But these early humans… Even healed, they couldn’t know true peace. Physically, they yearned to be completed by joining with the other.”
“That’s desire,” Bellanca whispered. “And throughout their lives, they searched endlessly for their fated mate.” A swell of emotion pushed hard against her ribs. “And now, finding your soulmate is a gift from Zeus alone, a rare and nearly unknown treasure.”
