Exhaustion rolls over me in a wave. I close my eyes. “What are you up to now, Hermes?”
“The same thing I’ve been up to from the start.” It’s strangely vindicating that she sounds just as worn down as I feel. “What I do—what I’ve done—has always been for Olympus.Allof Olympus, not just the rich, not just those fortunate enough to be born on the right side of the river. Everyone.”
“Tell us,” Zeus says.
“This message has two parts.” She takes a deep breath. “In roughly an hour, I’m going to issue an invitation to Olympus. I want each faction to send delegates—three each from the lower city, the upper city, and the countryside—to the university. These people will hold the positions temporarily while we set up proper procedures to vote in their replacements. This will be repeated every four years, with a three-term limit.”
I open my eyes. “You’re being naive. What’s to stop the Thirteen or legacy families from spending money and influence to monopolize those positions and ensure nothing actually changes?” It’s only after I ask the question that I realize I’m entertaining her plan as an actual possibility.
“Therein lies the second part of the message.” She clears her throat. “Every member of the Thirteen and the legacy families has forty-eight hours to leave Olympus. They’re—you’re—more than capable of clearing out your accounts or transferring your wealth to outside establishments in that time.”
“Where do you expect us to go?” Zeus asks it in a contemplative way, suggesting he’s already considered what he would do in this situation but is expected to play a resisting role in this drama.
“The world is a big place—or small, depending on how you look at it. Go anywhere. Go everywhere. Buy a nice house with pretty grounds for your wife and the bushel of children you’ll no doubt have after this one. Buy a whole fucking compound for the Dimitriou women to raise families in. You can afford it. They all can.”
The vision hits me with the strength to take me to my knees. Only sheer determination keeps me standing. The picture she paints might be brief, but I can see it all the same. Something like the country house Persephone was raised in, the one that holds so many happy memories from her childhood. They always felt like a strange sort of fantasy when my wife would relate them to me, her hazel eyes going dreamy.
By contrast, my childhood was the stuff of horror shows. Orphaned in the same fire that scarred my body. Forced into a position of power I couldn’t have consented to taking, even if I understood the implications at such a young age. Groomed by the last Zeus to be compliant, to make myself small so the threat to myself and my people never materialized.
Look at us now. Hiding in the lower city, doing our damnedest to keep the barrier intact. Just like Olympus has done for the entirety of its history. The barrier didn’t stop Circe from orchestrating an attack in the lower city a few weeks ago. I still have healing wounds from that fight, twinges that haven’t quite faded. If I died…if I left Persephone to go through this pregnancy alone, to birth our twins without me at her side, to raise them to repeat history just like I was raised to repeat history…
I don’t want any of this.
The thought shakes me down to my very bones. I clear mythroat. “What are you asking of us?”
“Leave.” She sounds so tired. “Please leave, Hades. I know you don’t consider me a friend at this point, but I care about you. You deserve to be happy, to raise your children in peace without constantly looking over your shoulder for the next ambitious asshole who sees Olympus as a fruit to be plucked. Your future kids deserve to grow up happy and careless and not worrying about being groomed to become the next Hades and shoulder the burden you’ve been carrying your whole life.” She sucks in a breath. “The same goes for you, Zeus. Don’t you want better for your kids than you had? Don’t you want to give them the freedom of choosing who they want to be without the baggage of a legacy title attached to them?”
Zeus and I share a look of perfect understanding.Yes.We both want that, even if neither of us has ever dared put it into words.
“Anyway,” she continues. “That’s the message. Like I said, I’ll be issuing the formal invitation in the next hour or so, once I finish making these calls. Just…think about it, Hades. Zeus. Please.” She hangs up.
Zeus is already moving, striding down the hallway. I don’t need to call after him to know where he’s headed—or at least what he intends. He’s going to speak with his sisters and then start the process of moving the impressive Kasios wealth to somewhere outside of Olympus. No hesitation. No wondering about the best course of action. Simply doing what needs to be done to protect those he cares about.
I envy him in this moment. It’s not something I thought I would ever experience, but the sensation worms through me all the same.Why wouldn’t it be a simple thing for him to shuck off the bullshit and choose correctly?
I don’t want to leave my people in the lurch, once again without a voice…but if Hermes intends to move forward with her plan, then the lower city will be equally represented. The very concept boggles my mind. We’ve had to fight and scrape for every single thing we have, and she wants to level the playing field with a single sweep.
I can’t say I approve of her methods, but she paints a tempting picture.
Before I can think too closely about what I’m doing, I slip back into the study and cross to my wife, her pretty eyes puffy from crying, tear tracks on her cheeks. “I have to leave for a little while, little siren.”
“But—”
I catch her reaching hand and press it to my lips. “I’m not going far, and I’m not doing anything that will put me in danger. There are some people in the lower city I need to speak to.” I lean down and kiss her forehead. “Stay with your sisters. If you need anything—”
She sniffs. “I might be grieving, but I’m not helpless, Hades.”
“I know.” And I do. I press one last kiss to her forehead, and then leave the study, closing the door softly behind me.
When it comes down to it, the choice of who to call is a simple one. By the time I make my way to the warehouse district, they’re all waiting for me.
Juliette, the clothing designer who used to be a model in the upper city.
Thanatos and Hypnos, brothers who have been instrumental in keeping my club running smoothly.
Gayle and Matthew, whose respective families have been among the lower city for generations and are valued members of our community.
Medusa and Calypso, refugees from the upper city who have become pillars of the lower city in their relatively short time here.
