She’s right. This new role I’ve unexpectedly come to occupy isn’t comfortable in the least. I don’t like relying on other people—even these two women—but I don’t have much choice. Too many people I’ve cared about have died because of my mistakes. I won’t allowany more of them to. “I’ll do whatever it takes. In the meantime, I’ll organize a strategic retreat to somewhere far from here.”
It’s strange to think about the potential forafter. I always intended to take Olympus as my own, to create new memories for the places where my trauma still lingers. To make it mine in a way it never could be under the current ruling class.
There’s a whole wide world out there. One that I could explore…thatwecould explore. Together.
32Atalanta
As we wait in the university to see if the leaders and potential delegates are actually coming, tension is a live thing inside me. I know this is the turning point for all our plans, the moment when we might actually see all our hard work and sacrifices come to fruition… But at what cost?
If they demand Hecate’s head, I’ll cut through every single of one of them, damn this new world order.
“It will be fine,” she says softly. “You’ll see.”
It’s strange to realize that, at her core, Hecate is the optimist of our little threesome. Circe and I have plenty of fears about what happens next. Hers are worse because she’s not able to stand at Hecate’s side while we find out if it was all for nothing.
The door creaks open and people begin to stream into the room in ones and twos. I can’t help holding my breath as I take in these strangers. From their clothing—mundane and serviceable and showing signs of repair—I suspect they’re from the countryside. My suspicions prove true when a white man with gray hair steps forward. “We’re willing to listen. We won’t promise more than that.”
“It’s enough,” Hecate says softly.
More people filter into the room before anyone can say more. These, I recognize. They’re from the upper city. Pan, the owner of the Dryad, who was nearly killed at Minos’s party. Clio Mousa, one of the main writers for MuseWatch. And Bellerophon, Athena’s second-in-command.
Bellerophon catches my eye and peels off from the others to approach. They’re a tall Black person with broad shoulders, warm brown skin, and a head full of curls. “Didn’t expect to see you here, Atalanta.”
“Just making sure everyone is on their best behavior.” There. That’s noncommittal enough.
They raise their brows. “Not at Athena’s behest.” I attempt to fight down my flinch, but they see it all the same. They chuckle. “I’m not explicitly here at her behest, either. I’ve been released from service. All her people have.”
The implications stun me. If Athena is releasing her people, that indicates Zeus is leaving Olympus and she’s following his lead. She wouldn’t flee the city if he stayed…and if he’s leaving, then Ares must be as well. Apollo, too. The dominos continue to topple, but this time in our favor.
Hope unfurls in my chest, displacing dread for the first time inwhat feels like years. “She’s leaving.”
They nod. “The lower city faction should be here shortly. Hermes—Hecate—gave a good speech, and whatever she did behind the scenes was even more convincing.” They look away. “But it was really Demeter’s death that changed everything.”
“Yeah.” I didn’t really know the woman, and I certainly didn’t like much of what I saw, but I can’t deny she chose well in the end, even knowing the likely outcome. Turning her back on Circe for the sake of the city took bravery I can’t help but admire, no matter what else she was capable of.
The lower city faction arrives then. I recognize some of them from the various reports Athena kept on key players across the River Styx. There’s Charon, Hades’s second-in-command, and Juliette, a designer who was essentially exiled from the upper city but continued to hold sway despite that. Or maybe because of it. I’m surprised to find Calypso and Medusa among the small crowd. I would have assumed they’d use the opportunity to leave the city behind forever.
Hecate lifts her hands, and after a moment of murmuring, silence descends. I study the crowd for any sign of violence, but despite being overtly guarded, every person here appears ready to listen.
“Thank you for coming.” She lowers her hands. “I’ve taken the liberty of preparing some documents for you to look over. It will give us a place to start.”
“Us.” A white woman, her red hair going gray, steps forward. I don’t recognize her, but she came in with the lower city group. “Even if this impossible task manages to succeed, surely you can’t expect us to let you stay in the city.”
Hecate smiles. “I’ll leave the moment the first set of delegates are sworn in—after a fair election process.”
“That will take months to set up properly.”
“Yes,” she says simply. “But we start today with implementing reform through the proposed policies and selecting temporary delegates from every territory.”
Clio shifts, drawing attention to her. She’s a short Black woman with light-brown skin and box braids. “The upper city already picked our temporary delegates. They will be me, Pan, and Bellerophon.”
We’d hoped this would happen. By giving them plenty of time ahead of the meeting, they had the opportunity to meet first and decide on who would lead them—and what they wanted from these reforms. It’s a good sign our hopes seem to have played out.
The older white man who spoke for the countryside nods. “We’ve picked as well.” He names three people who lift their hands, their faces deadly serious.
I glance at Bellerophon, but it’s Juliette who steps forward. She’s a gorgeous Black woman with short hair and dark-brown skin, tall and just as lean as she was during her modeling years. “The lower city chooses Gayle.” She nods at an older Black woman. “Matthew.” A white man in his thirties. “And me.”
It’s well done, across the board. I can’t speak to the country’s choices, though from the way people move around those three, they must be leaders in their community. And the lower city choices are all pillars oftheircommunity. Even the upper city has a good range of people who have spent time working among the population. They’re not divorced from the reality of Olympus for its civilians.
