Hera stared down her long nose at him, her eyes cool slits. “I have no intention of answering to Zeus anymore, and I certainly don’t answer to you.”
Bel’s scorn equaled Hera’s as she bit out, “I don’t think you even answer to yourself.”
“Enough.” Rage rolled off Hera, terrifying in its intensity, freezing in its bitterness. “I have no use for that amulet. I have a use foryou. But you’re not my only means to an end. If you won’t do what I want, Eryx will.” She lunged, closed her hand around the amulet, and yanked. The cord didn’t snap, and Bel stumbled forward. Righting herself, she grabbed the taut cord and yanked back.
Hera used her inhuman strength to pull Bel closer. Bel dug in her heels and rammed her burning palm into Hera’s face. The goddess hissed through clenched teeth but didn’t let go. Carver leaped in and drove the hilt of his sword down on Hera’s wrist. She didn’t react. The shard’s icy power glowed through her fingers. Hera pulled, Bel kept burning the skin off her face, and neither won the tug-of-war for the amulet. His heart hammering, he changed the angle of his sword and swung the blade at Hera’s arm just as the medallion let off a blinding pulse of power that threw all three of them back.
He landed flat out, his ears ringing. Shaking his head, he staggered upright. Bel did, too, the amulet still around her neck. Hera sprang to her feet, her face already half healed of the deep, flesh-demolishing burns Bel had inflicted. She conjured two snakes and flung one at each of them.
Carver whipped up his sword, slicing through the snake just before it could sink its fangs into him. Bel sun flared the one coming at her to ash. Hera threw two more snakes and the same thing happened. Fury contorting her features, she flicked her hand through the air. The magic wasn’t aimed at them, and Carver’s heart plummeted as he whirled.
Hera’s curse slammed into the front row of soldiers. Bones cracked and elongated. Muscle bulged and twisted. Men grew four legs, an equine back, hooves, and tails. Nauseatingly deformed for mere seconds, they rapidly transformed into centaurs, including Dex and Silas.
His eyes flared. “No.” His friends stared back at him in horror. Their upper bodies remained the same. They were them, but they were horse. Hera just stole their humanity from them.
“You took my herd,” the goddess fumed. “I can make a new one to guard my border, and maybe you’ll think twice about burning them alive this time.” She swiped her hand through the air again and remade more men into creatures. The injured tumbled off the horses and fell to the ground, standing again on four legs. Zeph and Arete shied away, snorting nervously, their heads high and the whites of their eyes showing.
Carver whipped back around. “Reverse it,” he growled.
Hera’s sharp gaze cut to him. “Convince your wife to do her duty.”
“My duty isn’t to you. It never was,” Bel said stiffly.
“In that case, my new herd awaits.” Hera lifted her hand to finish transforming the soldiers. Centaurs and men scattered in panic, and Bel jumped in front of her, countering Hera’s power with such a potent sun flare that she blocked the goddess’s spell and sent a wave of white-hot magic crashing over her. Hera pushed back, and Bel poured out more power. The shard lit up, bolstering Bel’s strength. Carver felt its ancient energy echo in his chest as magic oscillated between the two women. Neither gained the upper hand, and Bel’s face reddened, the strain obvious.
Carver watched, barely breathing, his blood roaring in his veins. Bel faltered, skidding back, and fear knifed through him. Hera’s curse pushed forward, and he stopped hesitating. He might not be Magoi, but Bel wasn’t alone in this fight. He switched his sword to his non-dominant hand, drew a dagger, and threw it at Hera.
Hera caught the blade a hairsbreadth from her chest and flung it aside. Her rage-filled eyes slashed over him just as Bel’smagic engulfed her. The firestorm threw Hera back, and she spun to the side, the inferno chasing her.
“Turn them back!” Bel stalked after Hera, flames pouring out of her.
Hera sped out of the way, her burns healing as she evaded Bel’s magic. Instead of retaliating, she shot a hand toward the sky, and an automaton harpy swooped down from the north. It held something in its talons—a small form in a tattered dress, pale legs dangling, red hair snapping on the wind.
Carver’s breath punched out. “Cleito.”
Bel twisted, looking at the sky. Her eyes widened, and her fire abruptly cut off. “No!” Turning back to Hera, she lowered her hands. The only part of her still on fire was her eyes. “You’re better than this. Somewhere deep inside, youmustknow that.”
Hera’s nostrils flared. “You know how to save her. Right now. Give me your binding word.”
Bel opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her hands fisted at her sides.
Hera erased the last of Bel’s damage to her skin as the automaton harpy flew over their heads, its metal wings slicing the air. It continued out over the great basin, flying until they couldn’t hear the whistle of its sharp feathers anymore. Far away and tiny, Cleito swayed in its talons, high above the frothing waves.
“I told youexactlywhat would happen, Firebringer.” Hera lifted her hand, ready to signal the death of an innocent woman. “You should show gratitude that I’ve given you yet another chance.”
Bel tore her burning gaze from Cleito and met Hera’s icy stare. “You’re too hateful to gift with power.” She swallowed, her shoulders back and her head high. “Cleito knew it. She understood before I did.”
“So be it.” Hera snapped her fingers, and the automaton dropped Cleito from the sky.
Bel’s tight-lipped, strangled whimper broke Carver’s heart. He exhaled shakily. Cleito fell for so long that his heart had time to shatter all over again, both for the seer and for Bel. Bel didn’t make another sound. Her eyes never left the speck in the sky. Carver didn’t even see the splash. It was too far, too fast when it finally happened. His heart plummeted with Cleito, sinking to the depths.
“Since your own sister’s life wasn’t enough to convince you, how about this?” Hera pointed skyward again. “One by one? Or all of them together?” She smiled cruelly. “You see? I’mstillgiving you a choice.”
Dread raking over him, Carver looked up again. More automaton harpies appeared in the sky, hovering over them. They each held a child of Atlantis in their claws.
“Youmonster.” Shock-pale, shaking, Bel stared at Hera. “Humanity will never forgive you.”
Hera gave a sharp shake of her head. “Humanity won’t know what I don’t tell them.” She looked past them, squinting at the men she’d transformed. “And do you really think your centaur soldiers will go home now to tell the tale?” Flicking her hand, she pitilessly altered any soldier left in the valley with two legs. “They’ll live in exile in my woods—forever. Magical creatures are immortal. Unlikeyou,” she said in a voice heavy with menace.
