“What’s Cleito to you?” Pav frowned at Bel. “You just met her.”
“Cleito is my sister.” Bel’s voice wavered, and she paused. She drew in an audible breath before continuing. “Shewas the only Atlantian with magic until I got here because she’s actually Thalyrian. Hera didn’t just kidnap her now. She kidnapped her as an infant and somehow placed her here without even Zeus knowing where she’d truly come from. Hera must’ve known about this ceremony and wanted Cleito to help Eryx figure out how to return magic to Atlantis in her name. The shard and I are the faster, better option, so she switched her focus to me and is trying to use Cleito—again—to get what she wants. Zeus was helping Cleito hold back the last piece of information for Eryx’s ritual.” A shadow passed through her eyes. “As soon as Cleito revealed the shard’s location to us, Hera had to change tactics.”
“Are they still working together?” Silas asked. “Eryx and Hera?”
“Possibly.” A faint glow illuminated Bel’s hair again, though Carver couldn’t tell if it was an intentional show of power or red-hot rage shining through. “What we know for sure is that both Eryx and Hera want magic restored to Atlantis, and that Hera wants everyone to believe that she ended Punishment so that she can feed her godly powers with their gratitude and offerings.”
“So? What will you do?” Dex’s expression darkened ominously, and there was no mistaking he meant about Cleito.
Bel rolled her lips in, a sure sign she didn’t want to answer. Carver couldn’t answer for her and waited, just like everyone else. Finally, her voice thick, she said, “I’ll do whatever I can to save my sister. But Hera has turned into a warped version ofherself. She’s rejected her sacred duty in the pursuit of power. She cursed our queen in Thalyria. She kidnapped and threatened Cleito—twice—instead of protecting her. She’s not blessing your marriages and easing your women in childbirth. She’s not protecting women inanyworld. She’s willing to give magic and power to Eryx, a brutal king that’s hand-selecting a woman to send to her deathevery dayover the high wall of Atlantapol. The next human sacrifice could beyourwife,yourmother,yourdaughter. No family is safe while Eryx reigns. And this Hera is notourHera. This Hera started her Olympianomachy and ended her obligations.”
“Olympianomachy,” Pav murmured. “A War of Gods.”
“Zeus sent me here to help Atlantis regain magic and rise again. That’smysacred duty,” Bel said forcefully, “and I won’t betray it.”
Even for my sisterhovered heavily in the air as the first bolt sped by, a whistle in Carver’s ear. Silas staggered into Dex, an arrow lodged deep in his shoulder.
Chapter 27
Bellanca’s heart hammered a punishing beat against her ribs as the full volley found its marks. Pav’s second-in-command dropped dead, a bolt in the head. Arrowsthunkeddown, hitting hard, and men in both units crumpled.
Whipping around, she saw her nightmare. The herd of centaurs sprang out of the woods, a good fifty of them, all armed with bows and arrows. They lined up along the edge of the forest, preparing to fire again.
Shock and horror blasting through her, she turned to Carver and urgently whispered, “They’ll kill everyone here.” These centaurs had no mercy, their hatred of men so legendary it had kept humans out of these woods for centuries.
“Son of a Cyclops,” he ground out. She couldn’t agree more.
She glanced at the rapidly panicking soldiers, and a lone arrow flew past her, so close the fletching stung her neck. She flinched as it killed the soldier across from her. The twang of dozens of bowstrings vibrated in her ears, and her heart spasmed in dread as she spun toward the sound. Arrows blackened the sky, fast-moving death hurtling down on them. Throwing her hands up and out, she released a wild pulse of sun-flare magic. The shard made it shockingly powerful, and the entire volley burned in the air and scattered to ashes.
She exhaled sharply, stunned by the sheer amount of magic she’d produced—and thankful she’d only aimed upward. Theshard still grasped at the threads of power inside her, trying to drag more out as she shoved Arete toward Carver. “Get everyone across the river! Fast as you can! I’ll hold them off.”
Carver hesitated. “There are too many.”
“I’ll be their queen, butyou’llbe their general. These are your men, Carver.Lead them!” The centaurs fired again. The first sunset colors streaked the sky along with dozens of arrows. She let the shard wrap its icy power around her magic, aimed her hands, and incinerated the volley.
As the burned-up arrows showered them in falling embers, Carver gathered both horses’ reins in one hand and gave her the hardest look he’d ever leveled on her. “Don’t be so heroic it kills you,” he growled.
“You either,” she growled back at him. “Now go! Get everyone as far away from me as possible so I can sun flare these murderous bastards off the face of Atlantis.”
With one last fraught look at her, his face twisting, Carver turned and started downhill, leading the horses behind him. “Cross the river!” he shouted, waving the soldiers forward. “Help the injured! Move, men! Now!”
With half an eye still on Carver and the fleeing soldiers, Bellanca reduced another volley of deadly bolts to nothing. With the shard bolstering her strength, she barely felt the drain on her magic, despite the power and scope she needed to cover the whole sky across the clearing. Seeing that their arrows weren’t killing anymore, the centaurs changed tactic and started a rumbling march down the slope. More of the deadly creatures came out of the trees behind them, and her eyes widened.
“Run!” she screamed over her shoulder. “There are more!”
Carver’s eyes flared in alarm. He shoved the horses ahead of him, slapping their backsides to encourage them forward, and then veered off, racing toward his friends.
Bellanca saw Carver start to help drag a lolling Silas toward the river, but then hooves thundered down the meadow, faster. Whirling, she slashed her hand from left to right, drawing a thick line of magic in front of her. The long grass went up in flames, cutting off the centaurs’ most direct route to her and the soldiers. The grass would burn out quickly, but the heat forced the creatures to slow down, buying precious seconds for the people behind her.
She half turned, her pulse pounding. Arete and Zeph were already skidding down the rocky bank, faster than the soldiers. Some men raced straight for the river. Others helped the wounded, trying to get them up and moving. They left the dead. Still well into the clearing, Carver and Dex struggled under Silas’s weight. The three of them staggered downhill too slowly, checking for injured men as they went.
Her heart in her throat, she swung back around just as her blaze burned out and the creatures trampled the embers. Her nostrils flared, the deep inhalation feeding aggression into her blood and body. Her magic throbbed in her veins as an army of centaurs stared her down. Hooves scraped the ground. Arrows pointed at her. Lifting her chin, she squared her shoulders and let her eyes burn with a promise of fire.
One centaur stepped forward from the rest of the herd. Sleek, dappled gray, huge, he blended into the thickening twilight except for the whites of his eyes, which looked all too human. “Fire!” he snarled.
She pushed out an instant explosion of magic. The Shard of Olympus surged to life, helping her, but the creatures had fired from such close range that a few arrows pricked her skin before they burned away. Arrowheads dropped around her, not fully destroyed this time.
Hiding her jolt of fear behind a smirk, she gave her enemies an unimpressed look. “I can do this all day.”
