She shuddered, stepping into a splash of sunlight to try to warm her skin. The persistent chill invading her body made her want to spy on Pan, but omniscience wasn’t always a gift, and she didn’t always like what she found.
Jealousy stabbed her, providing a little heat for her bones. Of course Pan made amorous overtures to her as well—ones she’d never accept. She simply enjoyed being seen after feeling invisible for so long. But Pan was as unselective in his craving for sexual gratification as she was selective, so she had no gratification at all.
On the far side of the patio, the bedroom she’d once shared with Zeus taunted her mind and body with echoes of past words and deeds. Her steps involuntarily slowed, and she turned, looking through the open arches.
Empty. Cold.
She shivered and turned back around, shrugging off the haunting memories of kisses and touches from long ago.
That bedroom was just one more reason to send her husband to the Underworld. She’d be free of Zeus on the mortal plane, and then maybe she wouldn’t feel so bound to him. So unable to look beyond.
Anger coiled inside her, and she spun, pacing the patio in the other direction. Her ambition went far beyond punishing her wayward husband now, even if the sour taste of envy and the bitter tang of betrayal continued to coat her tongue. It was about more—about power and partnerships and escaping the heavy hand always ready to clamp down on her or sweep her aside. She was a queen, not a pawn. Andnota goddess to be ignored.
A heavy snort escaped her. He’d learn, his final lesson coming all at once and ending his reign. Zeus had started orchestrating his grand Thalyrian renewal without her input, so she’d begun orchestrating her grand Olympian renewal without his. He sought neither her affection nor her counsel. She sat at his right hand in name only. It was well past time to give meaning to her empty throne. It was time to take theupperhand.
“I’m powerful, resourceful, self-sufficient,” she murmured. “Widely adored.” Gods turned to her for advice and favors. Humanity loved her, even if the Underworld and its millions of souls were out of her purview and only Thalyria and Atlantis remained, both smaller than Attica, which they’d lost around the time her marriage bed turned cold. Her temples rivaled Zeus’s, her cult just as grand. She’d ruled over marriages and families and the well-being of women and children for eons—since civilization had dawned.
Who prayed fervently about the weather? Or about law and order? Zeus might be the king of gods, butshegathered the powerful prayers of the desperate and the clawing.Bless my wedding. Heal my wife. Save my child.
Hera’s mouth twisted in a dry smile. Zeus had once hungher from the sky by golden chains to punish her for rebelling against him. He wouldn’t catch her this time, and perhaps she’d chainhimin the sky before sending him to live under the rule of his brother in the Underworld.
Her eyes skated over the cuckoo adornments decorating the railing, and her smile died at the reminder of how she’d been seduced by Zeus. She touched one of the stone birds, its delicate beak and small talons just more proof of how looks could deceive. She’d learned from it. She understood tempting lures and deception, too, now.
Just one more step in my plan without that pair of Thalyrians getting in the way.And if they did, they’d pay for it in blood.
A sudden flash of blindness hit her, wrenching a growl from her throat as an unwelcome force inside her sprang forth and penalized her for the violent thought. Her steps slowed as she drove the darkness from her eyes, her own body betraying her, just like everyone else.
A quick shake of her head fully restored her vision, and Hera paced again with snapping strides, her mind churning with the unfairness of it all. She’d done worse millennia ago and suffered the same vision-darkening consequences, though she’d never told a soul. She wasn’tunawarethat some of her deeds and ideas aligned poorly—even painfully—with her very nature. She just didn’t care. She had ambitions. Needs. Her own essence could strike her in the eyeballs all it wanted, and she’d still relentlessly pursue her goals.
Besides, didn’t human leaders throw soldiers upon lances by the thousands to win their wars? If she had to endanger certain families and sacrifice some innocents to win hers, then so be it. A few scant seconds of punishing blindness wouldn’t stop her now. Zeus had gathered his favorites and set Catalia Fisa’s destiny into motion even before she emerged into her chaoticand violent existence, red and wailing and already a thorn in Hera’s side. Hera hadn’t been consulted. Hadn’t been asked to participate. Hadn’t even known what was happening until her son Ares had been reduced to guarding the little human with godlike powers, andthenshe’d finally understood what Zeus had set into motion for his favored world.
Without her.
Always alone.
She drew in a sharp breath, her nostrils flaring on the scents of bright flowers and sun-hot herbs. Tired of her endless pacing, she stopped and gripped the balustrade. Her gaze swept over the island. Sparkling blue sea on all sides. Hints of Atlantapol glinting in the distance. Atlantis was a gem. It always had been, but right now, even sunken and punished, its beauty and bounty offended her. She lifted her chin. Maybe when her life was as warm and fragrant as the island, this world would charm her again.
Somehow unable to stop herself, she reached out and touched another decorative cuckoo. “Where are you, Pan?” She ran the tip of her finger along the bird’s stone wing, remembering the real one she’d once caressed. The sweet little creature had turned into Zeus as she held it to her breast. He’d tricked her into a compromising position, and she’d married him rather than look the fool for being duped.
But once married, the bond was sacred.She’dheld to that.
Frowning, she stopped gently stroking and gripped the statue’s feather-sculpted neck. The island should already have been hers, its people flooding her temples in appreciation for the return of magic and the end of Punishment. But then Athena interfered on one side and Persephone on the other, and now Hera needed at least one human from Thalyria to finalize her strategy for winning the gratitude of Atlantians.
Her patience reaching its frayed edge, she resisted mentally spying on Pan or going to the cavern. She held on only to the sensory connection she’d allowed to strengthen between them over these last months in Atlantis and waited for his return. Interfering herself could lead to Zeus discovering who was behind the rebellion, and her anonymity was the only thing keeping her safe for now. She needed to maintain her distance and stop worrying. Pan hadn’t failed her yet. There were Thalyrians in Atlantis now. Surely, he could bringoneof them back.
Her link to Pan suddenly severed, snuffed out so fast it yanked the air from her lungs.
“No.” Hera’s eyes widened. Her horrified gaze zoomed south, and she searched for his life force, the hot pulse of him that had spanned eras and worlds.
It was gone.
Millennia of existence—extinguished.
Her general.Dead.
Hera’s stomach dropped for the first time in a thousand years, and she squeezed the marble cuckoo on the balustrade so hard it shattered with a sharp crack. Rock dust crumbled in her hand, and she threw it down the mountainside in furious silence.
Thiswas war.
