Carver shook his head. “No, we’re not from Atlantis at all. We’re from Thalyria. We were sent here on a mission from the gods.”
Their eyes flared in surprise and alarm. Carver’s heart pounded. Silence could be so loud sometimes. Their shocked expressions didn’t fade, but somehow he could tell they believed him. The truth bled across their faces and brought their color back little by little as it sank in.
“Are you Magoi?” Dex eventually asked somewhat stiffly.
“I’m not. Bel is.”
“A healer?”
Carver shook his head again, worried that Dex fixated toomuch on a gift he wished he had. Maybe he would soon if all went well. “Fire magic,” he answered.
Grunting, Silas muttered, “Why am I not surprised?”
“Then how did your back heal?” Dex’s hand twitched, half rising to try to lift Carver’s tunic again. He stopped himself, his tight and probing gaze meeting Carver’s.
“We have to do something outside of Atlantapol.” Carver hesitated. This was information they didn’t need—or not yet. “Something quickly. Persephone came and healed my back so that we can leave.”
Silas’s jaw dropped, his face paling again. “Persephone? You know her?”
Carver shrugged. “Somewhat. Not well.”
Dex exhaled a quick, sharp breath. Carver couldn’t quite decipher the look on his face. Jealousy? Amazement? The other man quickly set aside whatever it was and just looked worried again, worried and curious. “Are you going to tell us what this is really about? Why you’re here? Maybe we can help.”
“I’m debating…” Carver said slowly. Truthfully. The offer was genuine—he could feel it, and not just because he didn’twantto doubt—but the truth also put Dex and Silas in danger and forced them into an unexpected choice. “I want to trust you, but right now, you’re both Eryx’s soldiers. The two aren’t compatible.”
“You were Eryx’s soldier until a day ago,” Silas pointed out.
“I waspretendingto be Eryx’s soldier.” Carver’s smile tasted bitter on his lips. “So I could get close to Cleito. That’s it.”
“Good gods.” Silas took a sliding step back and looked warily around, as if expecting a monster to pop out of the woodwork. “That was her, wasn’t it? Bellanca took Cleito last night, killed those guards, and whipped Eryx with fire. Whipped him foryou? She did that?”
There was no denying it. Both men already knew the truth, whether Carver admitted to it or not. He stood, this time hiding the wince triggered by healing fatigue and aching muscles. “If the fire magic fits…”
“She’s fearless,” Dex murmured in slightly panicked awe. “Incredibly powerful. She killed people. Killed them just like that. Like she’d done it before.”
Carver nodded, wondering when the last time was that he’d been so shocked by the realities of battle. He’d been a child. “She’s a Magoi princess from Thalyria on a mission from Zeus himself. She’s a warrior. It’s best not to get in her way.”
“Princess?” Dex stared at him. He swallowed. “Are you a prince?”
“Of course he’s a prince.” Silas scoffed, clearly handling Carver’s revelations better than Dex was. “They’re married.”
Carver simply nodded. “A Hoi Polloi prince.”
“They allow that in Thalyria?” Silas asked.
Carver’s wry huff was the most genuine thing to cross his lips since waking up. “They do if you win a war against the Magoi rulers.”
Silas’s tawny eyes widened with respect. Then his expression veered toward guarded. “Rightful rulers?”
“Terrible, unjust, murderous rulers that needed ousting.” Carver hoped it wouldn’t be too hard to wrest Silas’s loyalty from Eryx—another terrible, unjust, murderous ruler that needed ousting.
“So you’re a conqueror?” Dex gripped the back of his neck, abruptly pacing in the small space. He seemed to be trying to reconcile the Carver he knew with the Carver he was learning about.
“Part of a conquering family, anyway.” And he’d do it again in Atlantis, with Bel by his side.
“We still don’t know why you’re here,” Silas said. “I’m glad you’re better, and I want to trust in the gods, but…I don’t know what to think. People are dead. People I knew.”
“I understand.” Carver looked intently at the older man. “I’m sorry.”
