She doesn’t have to be perfect when the Thirteen are a fucking mess. There are only a handful of us who have held the titles more than a year, andnonehave experience in anything resembling what we’re dealing with now. We’ve been coddled, the people holding the thirteen titles playing at being modern-day gods, untouchable in the way only the rich and powerful can be. All those power games seem so petty now.
“Hermes doesn’t slip up.”
He curses softly. “There’s no sign ofher, either. I know she’s in the city—she called Cassandra yesterday to tell her to stick close to me—but I’ve caught no evidence of her on tape.”
If Hermes, that fucking traitor, can do it, then it’s possible Circe can as well. We clearly have holes in our security, and have for quite some time. “Keep looking.”
“I will.” He hesitates. “Are we going to talk about the fact that you went against the Thirteen’s vote and attacked Circe?”
I don’t want to. The temporary coup worked to break the blockade but not to remove the greater threat. Hard not to see it as a costly failure. “It needed to be done.”
“There are laws for a reason,” he says quietly. “I’ve supported you since you became Zeus, but that support is not unconditional. If you keep breaking the laws, I’ll be forced to stand against you.”
His feelings are nothing more than I expected. There’s a reason I only told my sister—Ares—and Athena about the coup. The fewer people who knew what I intended, the fewer people who could stop me. Apollo is a good man, and while that’s benefited me tothis point, it won’t hold if I have to keep doing what’s necessary to protect the city.
“I understand.” I hang up and quicken my pace, but it’s not fast enough to outrun the insidious voice tucked into the back of my brain.Your father never would have let this get so out of hand. He would have killed Minos the moment he realized something was off about the man, without giving a fuck about the consequences. He was too damn charming to actually see consequences…another way you’re failing.
It would be a lot easier to banish that voice if it didn’t speak truth. One of the first things I became aware of as a child was how I’d never be as good as my father. Thoughgoodis a strange word to use, considering the violence and destruction he subjected anyone under his control to. He killed three of his wives, including my mother.
Well, two of them. Circe was the shortest marriage of the three, only lasting a week after being forced to say, “I do.” He saw her on the street and had to have her, a magical story of love at first sight, according to MuseWatch. The truth is significantly less romantic. My father was a conqueror; he couldn’t stand the thought of something beautiful existing outside his control.
And Circe was beautiful. I don’t remember her well—I was in my early twenties and wanted nothing to do with the prospective stepmother who was only a few years older than me—but I rememberthat. She was a lean white woman with dark hair and a spark in her green eyes that made me sick to my stomach. Because I knew exactly what my father would do to that spark, how he would crush it out of existence and leave her a shell of the person she’d oncebeen. At least until he grew tired of her rebellion and she suffered an unfortunateaccident.
But even I didn’t expect him to come back from the honeymoon a widower.
Despite his monstrosity—or maybe because of it—Olympus ran smoothly under his rule as Zeus. I can hardly say the same, for all my determination to create a better world than the one he controlled. The longer I hold the title, the more I wonder if my father wasn’t onto something with how he conducted himself.
Henever had to deal with assassination attempts, an unruly Thirteen who refused to vote to benefit the city, and a godsdamned siege.
My phone rings as I step through the doors of Dodona Tower. It’s early enough that the receptionist behind the massive counter is still blinking blearily as they sip their coffee. Their eyes go wide when they see me, but I wave them off as I dig my ringing phone out of my pocket. “Yes?”
“We found where she made landing.” None of the exhaustion weighing me down is evidenced in Athena’s cool voice. She’s been working herself to the bone, same as I have, but it never seems to touch her.
Another way you’re proving yourself to be an inadequate Zeus.
I ignore the inner voice. “Tell me.”
“They killed Poseidon’s sentries and there are half a dozen boats cleverly hidden in a copse of trees a few miles north of the bay. It’s inside where the barrier once stood, but only just. She could have just as easily cruised another half mile north to coastline we aren’t able to cover with our numbers. She wanted us to find them, butnot to find them fast. They weren’t visible until we actually went into the trees.”
Of course it’s intentional. Everything that woman has done is intentional. Avoiding the search party entirely wouldn’t send the message that she could have come ashore whenever she felt like it. It might actually allow us a moment of peace, which is obviously something Circe will never do. She’s been playing head games from the start. “Where did she go?”
“How the fuck should I know?” A sliver of frustration works into Athena’s voice. “I’m not a tracker, Zeus. She could have cut into the city from here without issue, or skirted the city limits and headed west toward the country. I have no way of knowing.”
“Send the information to Apollo. A camera has to have caught her.”
“I will. Atalanta is taking a team west to see if there’s any evidence they headed in that direction. I’ll work with Apollo and Ares to create a grid for searching the city in this area.”
I don’t bother to point out that her grid search didn’t work particularly well when Ariadne, Icarus, and the Minotaur were on the run. I wanted them alive, and instead, Ariadne and the Minotaur sailed off and now Icarus is under the protection of Poseidon, one of the few people I can’t afford to piss off. As one of the three legacy titles—him, me, and Hades—we hold unprecedented power among the Thirteen. I thought bringing the three of us together in a temporary coup would turn the tide of this siege, but Circe was several steps ahead of us. “Do it.”
I take the elevator up to my floor. My floor. The very idea is absurd. I might have scoured every bit of my father’s love of gaudygold from this place, but it still feels like I’m trespassing, as if I’ll turn around to find him looming in the doorway, ready to cut me down to size with a few well-chosen words.
A year of holding this position, fighting to make it mine, and I’m no closer to making it happen. I’m going to be the first Zeus in the history of Olympus to see my city fall to invasion. I want to say the thought sits ill because of my concern for my people, but it’s not entirely the truth. They’re notmypeople. They don’t love me, fear me, or even hate me. They wouldn’t blink if I were to die and be replaced, and that apathy is what I can’t stand. It feels too close to the way my father watched me when I tried and tried and fuckingtriedto shut my emotions down and smile through my fury and pain. Even when I finally accomplished going cold, it wasn’t good enough because I can’t make people like me. I only make them uncomfortable and hostile.
Fuck.
I have to stop thinking about this. I have Circe and six boats’ worth of people to find. I have a crumbling city to set to rights. I have—
It takes two beats longer than it should for me to register that I’m not alone in my office. I move at the same time the intruder does, going for the gun in my shoulder holster. I don’t normally carry—it would give the wrong impression to enemies and allies alike—but there’s nothing normal about Olympus right now.
