“Psyche has an open invitation. Your mother…” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, little siren, but we can’t endanger our people on the hope that Demeter will choose her daughters over her bid for power. I want to believe she will, but all her actions point to the contrary.”
“Our mother didn’t anticipate Circe wanting me dead,” Hera says slowly. “But even if she had a plan to counter Circe, this has spun too far out of control. He’s right, Persephone. I hate that he’s right, but he is.”
“But…” She seems to wilt, just a tiny bit. “She’s our mother.”
Hera glances at me and any warmth disappears from her hazel eyes. “We’ll talk about it after Atalanta gives the report she was willing to return to the lower city to convey. Brave or foolish, there’s only one way to find out.”
“A little bit of both.” I recount a severely edited version of what happened and what I know, leaving out anything involving Hermes and Circe’s history—and not-so-history. In the end, it’s not that much information after all. Except for one thing. “I know you’re aware of Circe’s team in the lower city. No matter what threats they’ve put out against Persephone, that’s not their main goal. They’re not here to pick off the Thirteen and legacy families. They’re here to bring down the barrier.”
Hades stares at me, and I can practically see the wheels of his mind spinning. “You could have given us this information on a phone call.”
“Yes, I could have.” It takes effort to keep my shoulders straight, to look just over his shoulder instead of meeting his dark eyes that see too much. “There’s nothing for me in the upper city.”
A beat of silence that might be awkward, but I can’t focus enough to know for sure. Finally, Hades says, “Thank you for the report, Atalanta. I think you’ll understand I can’t have you wandering the lower city, but as long as you agree to stay in the house, I’m happy to set you up with a room and have my doctor look you over. Wait in the hall and one of my people will see to it.”
I want to find an excuse to stay, to find out what he’s planning. He’s too smart to send people rushing to the location of the machinery keeping the barrier running. He must know where it is, though, right? Most of the Thirteen weren’t aware of how the larger barrierworked, but the person who held the Hephaestus title always had a small team working on its maintenance in perfect secrecy. Surely Hades is the same if he was able to raise his barrier so quickly in response to the attacks.
Athena rises. “No need to trouble your people. I’ll take Atalanta to the spare room next to mine. Don’t wait for me; I’ll catch up when I return.”
Tension flows through me as I follow her to the door and along the hallway. I couldn’t take Athena even at full health, without a stab wound in my shoulder. I sure as fuck can’t take her now. If the offer of hospitality was a fake out and she intends to make me disappear, I might not be able to win that fight, but I’ll damn sure make her work for it. I clear my throat. “No matter what you think of me, I only ever wanted the best for the people of Olympus. Everything I said in that office was true.”
“I know. It was a very good report.” She closes the door and leans against it. “Now, I want you to tell me all the things you very carefully left out.”
17Hecate
Atalanta and I have worked separately more often than we’ve worked together over the years. We couldn’t afford people to link us up publicly, so when we carved out time to spend together, it was in secret. I learned to know the shape of her absence, to worry it like a missing tooth when I got to missing her. This is so much worse. Our argument feels like a period instead of a comma, the end of something I never got the chance to explore properly.
Even with that sorrow weighing on me, my body sings with the memory of Circe’s touch. The sex was both familiar and intensely new, a reminder of the people we were when we first fell in love—and the people we’ve become in the meantime. And yet…
I grip the steering wheel tightly and try to talk myself out oftaking the necessary next step. Atalanta will see to the lower city. Surely Hades and the others will listen to her, will take precautions so Circe isn’t successful in bringing down the barrier. I don’t know what happens after that, not when the people are fed up with the Thirteen. If left to their own devices, maybe they’ll finish what we started, will bring down the government once and for all. It’s messier than I wanted, without a clear path forward to rebuild, but it gets the job done.
And yet I’m incapable of giving up. It’s not in me. I don’t know if it’s a sunk cost fallacy muddying the waters or if I actually have a chance to change Olympus’s course from the threat of mass violence into a calmer transition of power. All I know is that I have to try—to convince the Thirteen to leave this city once and for all.
If they do, hopefully Circe will back down and accept exile as price enough for her pain.
Which is why my fool ass picks up one of the burner phones I took from Dionysus’s safe house and dials Circe. There’s no good reason for her to answer, and a thousand for her not to, but after a few rings, I hear her voice on the line.
“I don’t know this number, which means this is likely Hecate reaching out despite herself.” Her tone holds the same sweet warmth it did when she told me to come last night.
I shiver. “It’s not too late to stop this.”
“Hecate.” She sighs. “Unfortunately, dear heart, it was too late the moment I marched on Olympus. Artemis’s trial starts in the morning. Justice must be done.”
I grip the steering wheel so tightly with one hand that my fingers go numb. “Wholesale murder isn’t who you are.”
“We have this conversation again and again, and yet you neversee. It might not be who I was, but itiswho I am.” She pauses. “Just like a murderer isn’t who you were, but it is what you’ve become. I don’t judge you for that change, Hecate. I simply accept it.”
The truth of her words threatens to undo me. I can say I never wanted this, but I knew and accepted the potential cost when I took my first step down this path. I just never bargained onher. “Last night was a mistake.”
She laughs. It’s almost a perfect parody of the laugh I used to soak up like sunshine on a warm summer day, but there’s a ragged edge just beneath the surface. “Have I caused problems with you and the lovely Atalanta?”
“Keep her name out of your mouth,” I snap.
She laughs again, this time even brighter. “I understand what you see in her, you know. She’s so strong and fierce and honorable despite the blood that stains her hands.” Circe lowers her voice. “Do you know how she tastes yet, Hecate? I think you don’t. It must have hurt her deeply to discover you slept with me, and after she lost a knife fight to me. Salt in the wound, so to speak.”
It did. It cut Atalanta right to the bone. No, not it.Me.My choices, my weakness when it comes to Circe. “I love her.”
Circe is silent for a beat. Not as if I’ve surprised her; more like she’s mulling over my words. “You know, I actually believe that, even though you only said it just now to hurt me. Is today the first time she ever drew a proper boundary with you? How frustrating it must be to discover she’s not simply a doll you can pick up when you get around to it.”
