“Ding, ding, ding.” She points at me. “That’s exactly what I’m about to say. This is what we planned, Atalanta. Maybe not this exact scenario, but the path changes nothing about the destination.”
“And whatisthe destination, if not you being crowned queen?” Circe asks slowly. “No matter what you’ve both said, I don’t see how your methods are different from mine.”
I give her the look that statement deserves. We may have killed to make our plan happen, but we didn’t orchestrate the kind of violence and destruction that could have leveled the city. It might still do it. “The destination is a proper democracy.”
“Becausethatwill never be corrupt.” She snorts. “Don’t benaive.”
“There are more checks in place than with a single ruler—or thirteen of them.” Hecate’s energy dims a little, but she’s still kicking her feet, unable to stay still. “Right now, the upper city is overrepresented. The lower city has Hades and that’s about it. The countryside could theoretically say it had Demeter, but that’s a bit of a stretch considering how she operated. It needs to be equal.” She holds up three fingers. “A trio of representatives from each location, voted on by their respective communities. Nine people who then come together for the good of Olympus as a whole. They can make policies and laws, but only as a collective. No single person can do anything without a majority vote.”
I can see Circe looking for ways to pick it apart, so I shift, drawing her attention. “You tried it your way. It didn’t work. Now it’s our turn.”
She nibbles her bottom lip. “Apollo, Athena, Poseidon, and Hades sat by and allowed Zeus to run rampant in Olympus. They might not be as directly responsible for what happened to me—to his other wives—as Peitho was, but they’re still responsible.”
“Circe.” I wait for her to look at me to continue. “Why stop there? Hecate didn’t save you from Zeus. Surely that makes her as responsible as they were.”
She flinches. “That’s not the same. There were—”
“She could have broken in, killed him, and taken you back.” During one night of heavy drinking, a very long time ago, Hecate had lowered her barriers enough to speak through her guilt about all the ways she could have theoretically saved Circe.
Circe shakes her head slowly. “It wouldn’t have worked. Evenif she was successful, the Thirteen would have hunted us down and made examples of us. They couldn’t allow something like that to happen to the most powerful among them without recourse. We would have died then and there, likely in some public and horrifyingly painful manner.”
That’s what I told Hecate in that conversation. I hold her gaze. “Exactly.”
She sighs. “I see your point, no matter how little I like it. Fine, let’s play this out. Even if the rest of the city supported this idealized version of government, the Thirteen can’t stay. It will be too tempting to step back into their previous roles.”
“I know,” Hecate says softly. “That’s what I’ve been working on for months. Yourinvasionmade it hard to get through to them.”
“My invasion set the stage to force their backs to the walls and ensure you have even the slimmest chance of being successful.” Circe shakes her head. “They’re all huddled safely in the lower city. They have no reason to agree to what you’re proposing.”
I hate that she’s right. Even if the barrier comes down, without Circe’s forces in the mix, there’s no way the people of Olympus can stand against the lower city—let alone conquer it and drag the Thirteen and legacy families out into the street.
Hecate nods. “There’s a solid risk they’ll be thinking the same thing we are—to wait out the riots and then step in with cool reasoning to guide the people back to something resembling normal. We have to move first to control the narrative.”
I raise my brows. This is new. “When were you going to tell me that we’re pivoting?”
“Right now, in fact.” She hops off the counter. “We use MuseWatch and the technology dearest Circe implemented to send out that nasty video of Peitho and Eros. Then we take it a step further and plaster our video on every video screen in the city—thewholecity, not just this side of the river.”
“I know I’m going to regret asking this,” Circe murmurs. “But what will this new video that we’re plastering everywhere say?”
Hecate jerks her thumb at herself. “It’s time we told my story. I’ve spent over a decade immersing myself in this city, right down to its bones. I grew up in the countryside, so I understand and respect their priorities and needs.” She lifts Circe’s mug and presses it into the other woman’s hands. “We give the Thirteen and the legacy families forty-eight hours to leave the city and, at the same time, ask the leaders from the three factions to meet under a flag of truce to discuss the future of the city. I’ll lay out the plan in broad strokes in the video, which should be carrot enough to get at least some buy-in from the folks who don’t want to see this place leveled by the fury of the population.”
“Just like that.”
I don’t love agreeing with Circe, but she’s got a point. “If a video was enough to solve this, we would have done it by now.”
“It wasn’t before.” Hecate’s smile is a little bitter, a little resigned. “But Demeter’s untimely death after that rousing speech tipped us over into new circumstances. We’ll have one shot to make this happen.”
“And if you fail?” Circe’s worry, twin to mine, is written across her tone and expression.
Hecate shrugs. “Then I’ll probably die just like Demeter, becauseI’m going to be waiting in person for the representatives to show up.”
“No.” I’m already shaking my head. “Absolutely not. They’ll assume you’re trying to stage your own coup and establish a queenship just like this one.” I flick my fingers at Circe. I can’t quite inject my tone with rancor anymore, though. I like the sneaky asshole too much. Damn it. “Even if some of them show up in good faith, it only takes one to stop you. Permanently.”
“If I’m not willing to die for this cause, then what have we spent the last ten years working toward?” Hecate crosses to me and takes my hands. For the briefest moment, we might be the only two people left in the world. “I’m not saying I’ll be reckless—”
“What you’re suggesting is the height of recklessness,” Circe cuts in, taking the words right out of my mouth. “Even if I were to agree to this course of action, you’re missing a few key steps.”
Hecate rolls her eyes, which almost makes me smile. She turns to Circe. “By all means, put that treacherous brain to good use and help me, then.”
