“What summit?” I ask.
“The Dictator’s in Rome. Nine days from now Atalantia has promised to unveil her plans for the next stage of the war.”
It’s plain as day they know I was not invited.
“The next stage?” I ask. “Mars?”
Helios shrugs. “If not, there will be consequences. Atalantia cannot continue to drag her feet while my people fight her war. It is time to end this. I would ask you to relay that, but I hear you don’t share her confidences, only her bed.” He looks over at Diomedes. “The Core is an odd place, is it not?”
Diomedes looks embarrassed. The rudeness from Helios, even for a Moonie, is startling. “You’re making a point of insulting me, it seems. Why?”
“I am aware you invited Consul Raa to your…games. Dido may flirt with Core power struggles. She is Venusian by birth after all. I do not flirt. Unless you can move Atalantia’s fleets off Earth and Luna and toward Mars, do not communicate with us. Your office is a domestic one. Stay in your lane.”
“Is that why the Moon Lords sent you to the Core? To make sure Dido shows…restraint?” I probe. It would make sense for the isolationist faction to get cold feet with both the Dust and Dragon armadas away, and only the Shadow Armada and the local garrisons left to defend the worlds of the Rim. Nervous people, Moonies.
“Dido wanted this war. I did not. I am here so the Moon Lords can be sure there are no hooks in our lip when the war is won.”
“Back to isolationism then.”
Helios glances at the Praetorians watching from the rim of the amphitheater. “What do your Praetorians think of you consorting with a man who led a squadron at the Battle of Ilium? Their brothers’ and sisters’ blood is on my blade.”
“My Praetorians are an extension of me, and I believe if we are defined by the conflicts of the past we will never grow to anything better than a gnarled reflection of ancient feuds.”
“Words. I watched Rhea burn, lad,” he says. “There is a sickness here in the Core for which the only cure is quarantine. We should not be here. But we are. And when we leave, I will burn the bridge behind us.”
So much for the unity I always dreamt of.
“Diomedes, surely you see the value in retaining a connectionbetween Rim and Core. With your horticulture and ship design, and our manpower and resources, we could even look past the garden of this little sun. There are worlds to build across the stars.”
“I am a simple knight,” he replies though I get the sense he’s reining himself in. In fact, after seeing him fight out on the Rim, I feel his self-control is the only thing that protects the rest of us. “I do not think it prudent for inexperienced men or women to venture into matters of state.”
“From what I know of you,simpleis exactly the wrong word,” I say.
Helios actually laughs. “Well, they were wrong. You’re not blinded by your own reflection. Not in both eyes, at least.”
Jove, the man is an absolute savage. Still, I try to win him. “And where is Atalantia hosting her summit in Rome?”
He snorts. “The Colosseum.”
“She plays games with you.”
“Says the man who holds circuses.”
“My office is a domestic one. Should I not stay in my lane?”
Diomedes smiles, a rare thing, and even Helios eyes me with a little more interest.
I receive the warning of the incoming man from my Praetorians only slightly before Diomedes alerts Helios. Helios follows his gaze to see a tall Gold striding toward us from the far side of the theater. I go cold inside. The newcomer is slender, pale-faced with gently slanting eyes. He wears a brown cloak and a wig of brilliant blue hair. Those in the departing crowd who see his face wilt.
Atlas au Raa favors us with a neutral smile as he comes to a stop. I almost gasp when I see the very serious man in the very ridiculous wig. “And here I thought Thessian underappreciated. What a constellation of admirers he has.” He sees all three of us staring at his wig. He shrugs. “When in Heliopolis.”
I knew Helios was on-planet the moment his boots touched ground. That I can’t say the same for Atlas is terrifying but hardly surprising. How long has he been here? Atlas greets Helios and Diomedes, but neither man takes his hand.
Atlas raises an eyebrow at the bad manners and nods to the Binds of Zeus around Helios’s arm. “Had I a moonBreaker in my palm, I’d shake even the devil’s hand with a grin.”
The two men stare at one another. They are similar in build, thoughAtlas is longer limbed, slightly thinner, and slightly taller. “I do not consort with traitors,” Helios replies.
As a boy Atlas was given as hostage to my grandmother only to become one of her greatest tools. While his brother, Romulus, is revered as a hero even in death, Atlas is seen as the blackest of traitors. Truthfully, it’s not exactly fair. He didn’t choose to be a hostage.
