“And that leaves Thalyria and Atlantis,” Carver murmured.
Persephone nodded. “Thalyria is far bigger, but prayer is spread across the pantheon, giving us all strength and vitality. Zeus barely has the majority, and Hera is close behind. She’s ancient, revered, and her role is important to all households. Guardian of women and children, of the sanctity of marriage…”
“A role she’s been betraying lately,” Bellanca said sharply. “Well, not the sanctity part.” Hera was trying to oust her husband and take his kingdom, not cheat on him. That was Zeus’s domain.
“Humans don’t know what she’s been doing. We only just learned who’s been wreaking havoc ourselves,” Persephone pointed out. “Her faithful haven’t faltered.”
“And if she suddenly gains a swell of gratitude from Atlantians…” The magic in Bellanca’s veins heated as if preparing for battle.
“Then everything as we know it could change—and I don’t think for the better.”
Bellanca didn’t think so, either. She lifted her chin, straightened her spine. “We’re ready. We know where the shard is, but we can’t travel. Carver’s injured.”
“Which brings me to the true reason I’m here.” Persephone’s power-heavy eyes shifted to Carver. “Lessons in history and theology aside, I’m a healer.”
Carver’s sigh of relief filtered through a wry, maybe even bitter smile. “It should be easier than last time.”
“Last time you were dead. You just hadn’t crossed the Styx yet, so I could pull you back. Also, I’m counting on you not resisting this time.” She pushed the basket on the table toward them. “I have this, too.”
Curious, Bellanca reached out and folded back the cloth covering the basket. “Toy horses?”
“A gift from Prometheus. He debated coming in person to help you, but right now, Hera controls the Mount Olympus on Atlantis, which means she also controls the passageways under the mountain. Prometheus could use the hub of Olympus to join you here, but Hera would catch him as he entered.”
“How did you get here, if not through the hub?” Carver asked, reaching out and picking up one of the figurines. Bellanca could see that it looked just like Zephyrus, Carver’s dark-brown horse from Thalyria. It was an exact replica, right down to the wide blaze etched on its forehead antd the white socks on three of four legs, the back left leg being devoid of markings. Her heart squeezed out a hard beat. Carver and Zeph had been companions for nearly a decade, and Carver had barely mentioned the horse since they’d been in Atlantis. Zephyrus was just one more of the lost loved ones they avoided talking about.
“The primary Olympians don’t need the passageways and appear where they please. Same for me from the Underworld.Prometheus is Titan. Zeus prefers to be able to monitor where he might go, just like with other gods and magical creatures.”
Emotion cinched Bellanca’s heart surprisingly hard. It was too bad the Titan couldn’t join them. She could really use Pro right now, and not just for his magic and muscles. He was a friend, and friends were precious to a person who’d had so few of them.
Breathing through the sudden tightness in her throat, she turned her attention to the other figurine in the basket. It resembled her horse, Arete. They hadn’t been together for long—only since she and Carver had been going back and forth between Castle Thalyria and the army encampment outside the city—but the bay mare had quickly become a trusted companion, always giving her utmost in everything. Seeing Arete like this, a lifeless toy, felt like a cruel twist to the already cruel reality of losing her, and everything else besides Carver, to Thalyria.
His expression wholly closed off, Carver put the statuette of Zeph back in the basket. “Let’s get this over with.”
Annoyance twitched across Persephone’s face. “As much as I enjoy taking orders from mortals, don’t you wonder about the horses? A Titan god isn’t going to amuse himself by carving you decorations. These areyourhorses.”
“What?” Bellanca pivoted back to the tiny but lifelike statues, a shock of elation making her breath catch. “How do we animate them? Make them big again?”
Persephone shrugged. “Prometheus said you’d know.”
Bellanca didn’t. She glanced at Carver, her brow creasing. In answer, he shook his head.
“One more mystery to unravel.” Sighing, she tugged Carver toward his room. Persephone’s magical healing would hurt like the fires of the Underworld. “Let’s get you lying down.”
He nodded, following, and as they moved, her mind jumpedto the gear and supplies she’d gather while Carver slept off the upcoming ordeal. Their mission seemed much clearer now but more difficult than ever. And if they finally succeeded…
Nervous fire licked through her. She’d been born a princess, but she never thought she’d become a queen.
Carver sat on his bed as she turned back to Persephone. “I hope I can succeed.” Her voice roughened, low and almost afraid. “I want to be worthy of Atlantis.”
Persephone reached out and gripped both Bellanca’s wrists, healing them of their burns in a sudden, searing burst of pain. “That’s why Zeus chose you.” Her steady gaze conveyed the same fervent conviction as her words. “You might think us all absent and unpredictable and uninterested in the fate of men and worlds, but you’re wrong. Punishment wasbecauseZeus cared about the future of Atlantis and saw it going down the same path as Thalyria. He knows magic can do good in the right hands. He was waiting for yours.”
Chapter 19
Heavy pounding on the door dragged Carver from a deep sleep even though it wasn’t even dark outside. Groggy, he scrubbed a hand down his face and tried to clear his thoughts. Whipping. Kissing. Persephone.Soulmates.
He came fully awake with a jolt.
The knocking intensified, and a rusty curse scraped in his throat. Dex and Silas had promised to come back after their guard shift. It had to be them.
