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I sit back in the uncomfortable hospital chair but maintain my grip on Patroclus’s hand. As usual, he’s right. If what we shared was real, then there’s no choice at all. I expected Helen to get over her loss of dreams when I won. It’s hypocritical in the extreme to not be willing to do the same, even if I’m afraid. I shake my head, a reluctant smile pulling at my lips. “You really are a smart motherfucker.”

He smiles in return. “You would have figured it out eventually. I just helped things along.” He squeezes my hand, already feeling stronger. “You’ve always had enough faith for both of us. It’s my turn now. It will work out with Helen. I’m sure of it.”

“I believe you.” The door opens and a tall white man in surgical scrubs walks in. The doctor. I glance at Patroclus. “Let’s figure out what the damage is so we can get you checked out of this place and go get our girl.”

31

Helen

Attending a meeting with all the members of the Thirteen is one of the most surreal experiences of my life. My father made it a habit of keeping them as separate as possible, aside from his endless parties, but even if he hadn’t, I would not have had a place at the massive oblong table we occupy now.

I study them each in turn, all too aware of the way they study me right back. There are my brother and Eris, of course, him at the head of the table and her across from me. Hermes and Dionysus sit close with their heads together, whispering and pretending they don’t see the way Poseidon glares in disapproval. He’s a giant white man with short red hair and an even redder beard, and he looks like he can haul shipping containers around with his bare hands.

Then there’s Demeter sitting passively with her hands folded on the table. She’s a white woman in her fifties with a distinct earth-mother vibe that almost manages to hide the sharp ambition in her hazel eyes.

Next is Apollo. I haven’t interacted with him a ton, but I’m a big fan of Cassandra, who works for him. He’s an East Asian man who’s about my age and who doesn’t often contribute to the political backbiting so common with this group. He catches my eye and gives me something resembling a reassuring smile. I smile back, even though I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.

Hades and Callisto—Hera—sit together at the end of the table across from my brother. Callisto is Hades’s sister-in-law, so their easy way with each other make sense, but it still weirds me out. I notice a vein in my brother’s temple throbbing as he looks at them, but he glances away and smooths out his expression.

Hephaestus and Artemis are cousins, both sharing the same light-brown skin and glossy dark hair. They’re also wearing identical expressions of distrust as they watch me. I won’t find allies in that corner, but hopefully they’ll be willing to work together to protect Olympus.

The door opens and our final member arrives. Athena is wearing a cream suit and walks with purpose as she moves to my brother’s right hand. She catches my eye, but I can’t decipher her expression. It’s not warm, but it’s not icy, either.

My brother clears his throat. “It’s time to have a frank discussion.”

The next two hours are a study in frustration. I knew the Thirteen were fractured, but seeing it firsthand has me digging my nails into my palm to keep from yelling at them. My brother lays out the information he has, but Hephaestus, Artemis, and Poseidon argue that he’s exaggerating the threat to consolidate power for himself. Dionysus and Hermes make quips at everyone, though they watch the proceedings with sharp eyes. My sister has plenty of opinions, but even I’m not sure if she’s supporting our brother or not. I swear she’s simply playing coy to infuriate everyone and confuse the situation.

Hades and Demeter, surprisingly, don’t say much at all. From the way they watch the arguments that spring up and get diverted, I expect there will be a secondary meeting with them and perhaps Hera where they discuss their position.

Athena staunchly supports my brother, but she’s quick to say it’s Olympus she’s supporting. Not Zeus.

In short, it’s a fucking mess.

We adjourn without any sort of a plan or even an agreement. I pause next to my brother. “I understand now.”

He gives me a brief smile. “Come around tomorrow and we’ll talk.”

More back-office meetings. I expect there will be a lot of that going around in the near future, the segments of the Thirteen breaking off to converse with like-minded people. I don’t know how we can get them all on the same page. I don’t know if it’s even possible.

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