Carver gripped her hand so hard it almost hurt. “And otherwise?” he asked.
Persephone shrugged. “People make do with what they find. Contentment can certainly follow. Love and happiness, too.” Shegave him a pointed look. “But your family has been particularly well rewarded.”
“Because we’re always doing exactly what Zeus wants,” Carver said hoarsely.
Persephone laughed, the sound more like cut glass than wind chimes this time. “Strength of will. Strength of character. Your parents displayed them so fiercely that Zeus took notice at a time when he was moving humans into place for his plans for Thalyria. The next generation was…watched over, shall we say, so that they’d have the tools to help them overcome overwhelming obstacles.”
“Because there’s nothing more powerful in all of humanity than soulmates joined together.” Bellanca knew exactly what was happening—and to whom—but it still seemed impossible. An incredible gift and yet a huge burden—the expectations ofgodsweighed on their shoulders.
Persephone’s gaze weighed just as heavily. “So far, there’s nothing Zeus’s reunited souls haven’t been able to accomplish. Cat and Griffin. Flynn and Jocasta, though two Hoi Polloi are less aware of the urgency and power of the connection. Piers and Sophie.”
“Piers?” Carver asked sharply. “Who’s Sophie?”
“That’s not my story to tell, but suffice it to say that your brother’s exile from Thalyria brought him great heartache but also great joy. He was integral in getting the Shard of Olympus to Athena, who placed it here in Atlantis in preparation for war. Piers lost his birth family, but he did his duty to the gods and was rewarded with the other half of his soul.”
Bellanca’s heart squeezed painfully for a man she didn’t even know. She couldn’t imagine how Carver’s heart must be exploding in his chest, all the happiness and sorrow twisting together into one big mess.
“And us?” Bellanca asked. She glanced at Carver, his strong profile suddenly the sharpest thing in the room. No wonder they’d never been able to leave each other alone. Always looking for a way to get under the other’s skin, even if it was through sheer antagonism. Always orbiting the other, always protecting each other to the very end. She swallowed. “I’m younger. Carver was chosen, and then I…” It couldn’t be that she’d been made to complete him. They completed each other, equal parts, different but joined. Two sides of the same coin.
Persephone’s huff was a quick burst, her words tart. “I’m glad to see there’s no idiocy of attempted denial, especially since I arrived to find you trying to crawl into each other’s mouths.”
Carver’s sharp inhalation whistled in his nose. “No idiots here,” he said stiffly.
Persephone cocked a brow. “Not so true at first. You both had this burning understanding that you shouldn’t be apart even if you drove each other mad.” The goddess looked at Carver. “You followed Bellanca to Atlantis without question. It wasn’t easy, but there was no hesitation in your heart. And you…” She glanced at Bellanca, her magic-charged eyes as sharp and assessing as ever. “You saw Carver pinned down in battle, Pan nearby and the satyrs pummeling him, and you—quite worryingly, to be honest—produced magic no one else possesses in order to reach him. Youcreatedit. You didn’t unlock unknown potential or receive a gift from the gods. You produced it yourself—from the strength of your bond, from the need to preserve it.Thisis the power of soulmates, especially when there’s a fiercely strong Magoi involved, that the gods feared enough to split the human race apart and scatter their halves across worlds. You were strong enough together to kill a god in battle. Pan—millennia of life, and then gone.” Persephone snapped her fingers, the symbolic sound of Pan snuffing out of existence as loud as a thunderclap in their living room.
Bellanca’s already hard-thumping heart accelerated. “Is that why I could control the new magic so fast? Because I made it myself?”
Persephone’s shrewd look scraped over her with a hint of pride. “What else can you make, I wonder? Zeus is always seeing a thousand steps ahead, but you surprised him.”
“So did Hera,” Carver muttered. “And maybe he should’ve been a better husband so we wouldn’t be paying the price for his neglect and infidelity now.”
Persephone nearly snorted, just barely blocking the sound behind closed lips. “I happen to agree. I’ve said the same to Zeus.”
“And?” Carver asked, frowning.
“He didn’t answer.” The shadow of a scowl darkened Persephone’s features as she glanced briefly out the window again. “But this is about more than punishing Zeus. Hera is covetous of supreme power. She always has been. She wants to rule. She has allies. She has powerful magic. She has many, many worshippers that greatly boost her strength. When Zeus listened to her, that was enough, and they ruled together. That hasn’t been true for a long time.”
“A majority of grateful Atlantians could truly tip the scales.That’sthe army Zeus needs, that he wants from me—worshippers.” Worry plunged through Bellanca. “But Atlantians don’t have a particular love for Zeus to begin with. He’s Punishment to them. They mostly pray to Poseidon here.”
“But Poseidon backs Zeus.” Persephone drew a symbol in the air—a trident. It remained there, glowing. “What Atlantians can’t know or understand is that Zeus’s Punishment—the elimination of magic here—spared them the cruelty and violence that developed in Thalyria over the last several generations. The stratification of society. The imbalance of wealth and powerbetween Hoi Polloi and Magoi. The vicious rulers too empowered by colossal magic to remember what it meant to lead and not to take.” She drew the island in the air with Mount Olympus in the north and Zeus’s thunderbolt pointing toward the city of Atlantapol. Her depiction shimmered between them, golden threads of light pulled straight from the atmosphere. “Hades remains an ally in the Underworld, but it’s the most separate of the worlds. Once a soul crosses the River Styx, there’s no returning to the living. As rulers of the Underworld, to the dead, we are the only gods who matter.” She drew Hades’s invisibility helmet beside the island in the air, equidistant to the other two glowing symbols.
“Those are the marks on my medallion.” Bellanca stared at the golden drawings hovering around the representation of Atlantis. “Zeus’s lightning, Poseidon’s trident, and Hades’s helmet. Those are the gifts from the Elder Cyclopes that gave them the power to vanquish the Titans.”
“The Shard of Olympus contains a piece of each gift.” Persephone swiped her hand through the drawings, shattering them into a cascade of golden sparks that faded as they fell to the floor. “It will amplify your already-powerful magic to the point of almost godlike abilities.”
“And Zeus wants me to have that?” Bellanca asked warily. “What’s to stop him from eliminating the threat ofmeonce he has what he wants?”
“I suppose that’s up to the choices you make, the things you do with your power.”
Bellanca stared at the goddess, feeling as though a saw-toothed trap had just snapped shut around her leg. Even with Zeus, it was obviously toe the line or Tartarus. Where was the free will in that?
Persephone clucked her tongue. “Don’t look so shocked.You’re among the favored few in all the worlds. All you have to do isnotruin it for yourself.”
Like by trying to save Cleito?Bellanca clamped her mouth shut on the question that tried to spring out. The only way to save Cleito was by throwing her lot in with Hera—Zeus’s rival.
“Does Attica sway the balance?” Carver asked. “Isn’t it a huge world?”
“Attica is long lost,” Persephone said, a whisper of regret in her voice. “The magic there died when humans stopped worshipping us. Even our magic is weak there at best, and we have no real influence over events or people. Tartarus is a hopeless prison under Zeus’s control. It neither brings us power nor dampens it. And as I said before, the Underworld is Hades’s and mine and separate from Mount Olympus.”
