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When she turned back from the pond, moving along the garden path, something caught her eye.

She looked up at the balcony, realizing she was not alone.

Claudia glimpsed Gia watching from the shadows at a distance, before she turned away and disappeared into the dark.

Three goddesses cautiously approached a fortified palace, made of smoke-black stone. It was decorated with many spikes and barred windows and burning torches, guarded by disgruntled-looking satyrs and centaurs.

A larger-than-life statue of a helmeted deity driving a chariot stood in the courtyard, led by four winged Pegasi.

‘Do you really think this is a good idea?’ asked Diana, holding out her bow. ‘Fortuna will not approve.’

‘Certainly not,’ said Minerva, holding her shield and sword, ‘but we have no choice, not now we have lost Victoria and Salacia. If Jupiter has so many of the gods still on his side, we need to convert less… reputable allies.’

‘I did not know you meant her,’ said Diana.

‘We will fight for all women and goddesses – good, bad and in-between. That is how we will win the war.’

‘Didn’t she go berserk and kill her own soldiers in battle?’ said Venus, though she withered slightly under Minerva’s fierce glare.

‘It was a misunderstanding.’

‘Doesn’t she demand blood sacrifices from her priests, too?’

‘None of us are perfect,’ snapped Minerva, ‘including myself. Let this be a blank slate for every deity, on which to rewrite their own story.’

Minerva’s sister Bellona represented the destructive aspect of warfare, known for carrying around a bloodstained sword wherever she went as a not-so-veiled threat. She was belligerent, full of bloodlust, and a loose cannon, but she was also one of the finest warriors Minerva had ever personally trained – as ruthless as any god.

One of Bellona’s horned, cloven-footed attendants greeted them at the door, ushering them inside before anyone could see, locking and barring the door behind them.

Venus and Diana exchanged a harried glance as they followed.

The temple palace was full of the deceased fire priests and dead soldiers Bellona kept as servants, giving the place a distinctly sinister atmosphere. The walls were hung with various weapons – swords, shields, spears and whips, along with trophies acquired in numerous conquests, be they against men, monsters, gods or beasts, and painted murals of bacchanalian orgies, with Bellona at the centre of them.

She waited in a room decorated with many mortal skulls, clapping slowly at Minerva’s approach. The two bore a resemblance but Bellona had a more impish look, with burning pupils and fiery hair, her helmet and shield bearing the symbol of the gorgon.

‘Finally, you call on me,’ said Bellona.

‘Hello, Bellona.’

‘The great Minerva returns. I was beginning to give up hope.’

‘You were expecting us?’

‘Yes, what took you so long?’

‘I’ve been busy, trying to topple our beloved father,’ said Minerva.

‘And you thought you’d exclude me from all the fun?’

Bellona grinned, but it didn’t have the effect of making her more approachable. It was a sharp, feral sort of smile, like a cunning fox.

‘You can’t imagine how furious I was when I heard that you’d approached those low-hanging fruits, Feronia and Eponia, before me, your own sister,’ she said.

‘Oh, please,’ said Diana. ‘Most of us are siblings in the pantheon.’

Bellona’s fingers danced up and down the hilt of her sword.

‘But I am Minnie’s favourite.’