“To bringhimmagic,” Carver hurled back. He fought off a cough, for the first time managing to control the sudden spasm in his throat. “And it’s having the exact opposite effect. Eryx, like hisancestors before him, has displeased the gods so deeply that Zeus sent my wife, Bellanca Tarva, the most powerful Magoi princess of Thalyria, to eliminate him and rule in his stead. As queen.With magic. Atlantiswillrise again. It’s about to. We’re on the cusp of the island returning to its rightful place, but Zeus won’t allow that to happen while Eryx sits on the throne.” He looked directly at Pav, trying to convey the truth with his words, with his eyes, with his whole body. They’d spoken, sparred, and Pav had always seemed like a man who cared about Atlantis more than he cared about Eryx. If he was right about Pav, and they could get two entire guard units behind them, they’d have the start of a small army. “Eryx is holding everyone back, and blind loyalty to a cruel and selfish ruler won’t help Atlantis. Your families are in danger every day because of him. We can stop him. We will.”
“Are you saying that Punishment hasn’t ended because Zeus doesn’t like King Eryx?” Carver recognized the soldier who spoke as Pav’s second-in-command, Mikhos. They’d sparred, too, though rarely.
He nodded. “Zeus cares about you enough to send a ruler who’ll use her magic to protect you and Atlantis and who’ll restore the island to glory without cruelty and human sacrifices. If you give Bellanca that chance, she can end Punishment and take the throne from Eryx.”
“Is the throne so easily taken?” Silas’s brow drew low, the question clearly genuine.
Carver looked at Bel to answer. A regal calm settled over her—one no one could miss. She radiated confidence and power without any magic spilling off her. “I’ll fight him for the throne, Magoi to Magoi, once he has magic. There’ll be no mistaking who the Atlantian throne rightfully belongs to.”
“And how do you plan to restore magic?” Pav asked skeptically. Silas echoed the question.
After a moment’s hesitation, Bel reluctantly pulled the amulet out from under her tunic, its cool, blue-white radiance chasing away the late-day shadows around her. “With this. The Shard of Olympus is a gift from Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades.” Soldiers murmured in awe, and swords dropped a fraction—even Pav’s—as they looked, curious and fascinated and probably more than a little fearful. “When Persephone sent me here, in Zeus’s name and with his blessing, she called me Firebringer. My fire is meant to spark magic for the whole island, and the Shard of Olympus will help make that happen. The shard is what Cleito sent us north for. She told us where to find it.”
“WhereisCleito?” Dex called sharply.
Carver glanced at Bel. He waited to see what information she’d reveal. He’d already forced her hand once. He didn’t want to do it again, especially about her sister.
He saw her stiffen and Arete’s ears twitch as the mare tensed for action. Bel settled into her saddle, using her seat to calm her mount even as her shoulders stayed tense and her expression hesitant. Finally, she said, “Cleito isn’t just a seer. She’s what we call a Chaos Wizard in Thalyria.” She paused, but no one seemed to understand the significance, maybe because of the island’s lack of magic for so many generations. “They’re the most god-touched of oracles, a conduit for the gods and mainly for Zeus. A Chaos Wizard knows everything. Past. Present. Future. But that’s too much, too confusing, too big and overwhelming. Zeus can help them sort through all that information and produce prophecies or other vital information he wants to give.”
“And if Zeus doesn’t want to give the information?” Silas asked guardedly.
Bel’s troubled expression said it all before she did. “The Chaos Wizard resists.”
Pav let out an audible breath, and the tip of his sword hit thegrass. “So all those years… No matter how much Eryx abused and terrorized her…” He shook his head, his mouth thinning. “Still, there were visions, predictions.”
“Eryx seems to have mostly tortured some kind of ceremony out of Cleito that could potentially bring magic back to Atlantis without a Magoi like me to do it. But Cleito refused to give up the final piece of the ritual.” She touched her amulet. “Eryx would need the power of the Shard of Olympus to do it, but she tolduswhere to find it, not him.”
“We think Eryx’s ritual involves a human sacrifice,” Carver added.
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Mikhos growled in a way that made Carver think the man must’ve lost someone at the high wall over the harbor—just like so many others had since Punishment.
“No, but if we stop Eryx, we stop his sacrifices.” Bel finally dismounted and stood next to him, Arete’s reins trailing from her hand. “I’m just like you, even if I’m Magoi and even if I was born in Thalyria, because I want what’s best for Atlantis andallits people.”
Pav slowly nodded, acceptance draining the rigidity from his spine and the color from his face. He believed them, even if he didn’t want to. And it made him a traitor until the moment Eryx no longer sat on the throne of Atlantis.
He pointedly sheathed his sword, the whisper of metal sliding into leather sealing the deal. “You never told us where Cleito is. Did you leave her in Atlantapol?”
Bel swallowed. She shook her head, abruptly looking at Carver to answer.
Carver turned back to the soldiers, the raw emotion so clearly clogging Bel’s throat sitting heavily on his chest. “Hera took Cleito. Right after Bel rescued her from Eryx, Hera swooped in and kidnapped the oracle.”
Dex took another step to stand next to Silas. Fury smoldered from him. “Kidnappedher? Why?”
Carver nodded. The day after the whipping, he’d told his friends that Hera had taken Cleito, though he hadn’t elaborated. Dex was demanding those answers now, and Carver wouldn’t deny him. “She wants to rule Mount Olympus—above Zeus—and she’s making a bid for his throne. She started a war among Olympians, and she wants Atlantians to bolster her strength and make it possible to defeat Zeus in battle.”
“How? We have no Magoi army. Only the king’s guard…” Frowning, Silas glanced at Dex, then back to them. His two friends weren’t the only soldiers who looked worried and confused, and if the situation weren’t so dire, Carver wouldn’t spread knowledge the gods had intentionally hidden for so long.
Still, he hesitated. How much to say? What consequences? Then Bel stepped in and explained.
“Hera wants me to use the Shard of Olympus to restore magic inhername rather than Zeus’s. Prayers, gratitude, and offerings to a god amplify their natural powers. If all of Atlantis is grateful to her at once, the sudden increase in her abilities will be enough for Hera to rival Zeus and challenge him in battle. She doesn’t need an army, even a Magoi one. She needs your love, your prayers, your heartfelt worship.”
“But what does Hera want with Cleito?” Dex demanded, continuing to show an uncharacteristic focus on the oracle after spending years turning a blind eye to her. “How does kidnapping her help the goddess?”
“Hera gave me an ultimatum,” Bel answered. “If I restore magic in her name, giving her the gratitude of Atlantians, she’ll return Cleito to me. If I don’t do what she wants, she’ll kill her.”
Wrath ignited in Dex’s eyes, his nostrils flaring. Whateverhis friend’s reasons, Carver knew that look, thefeelof it. It was a turning point. The spark that changed lives and worlds.
He’d believed Dex was an ally before. Now, heknewit.
