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Not by even half an inch—which makes me pray that she won’t pick now for a huff or an eye roll. Her manners might be a little old school, but some quirks are timeless. Relief rushes in as soon as she resettles her stance, as if expecting exactly what I’ve declared.
“If your weddingisan occasion for the realms, then every notable from the realms will be expected to attend.”
A new kind of hum from Maximus, which brings another downpour of comfort. When he follows the sound with a chuff that’s almost a laugh, I feel my own lips curling upward.
“And when they’re all in one place, we can turn the reception tables into negotiation tables.”
As soon as he states it, Persephone beats me to the big smile. “Sometimes, one cannot hope for peace. But onecanfacilitate understanding.”
“Which comes from communication,” Maximus supplies.
“Which, at this point, nobody wishes to attempt.”
Bynobody, I already sense the goddess is targeting Hecate but not stopping there. If the high witch was the only roadblock to all this, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.
This exchange, as bizarre as it seemed at the start, is making more sense to me by the second.
“So, you’re referring to most of the Pantheon?” I query.
“Most?” She scoffs. “No. They’reallacting like badger cubs with a stick. Snarling and snapping over pieces of nothing. And not just them. It’s the functionaries, cupbearers, concubines, emissaries, oracles, and minions too.”
Now I’m fairly sure sheisreferring to Hecate. But like Maximus, I stow possible responses. It’s also clear that she’s not had a listening ear for a while. Poor Persephone, used to being everyone else’s helpmate, is now a frantically furious ball of wildly pacing energy.
“Nobody takes the time tolistento each other anymore. If they don’t agree with a single comma or apostrophe in another diatribe, they don’t just—what’s that term nowadays? Burn the scroll?”
“Scroll by?” I offer. “Though yours makes more sense.”
She stops pacing. But that only means she’s back to funneling her energy differently. As she turns back toward us, her fingers are twisting and her gaze is darting. Once more, the centers of her eyes are nearly black.
“Please.” It’s only a rasp, but it’s obvious how hard the word is for her. Though she bears an unwanted crown for half the year, she’s still a queen for all that time, asking and wanting for nothing. “You have to make this happen. You two are the only hope for all the realms.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MAXIMUS
For the better part of a minute…silence.
And then another minute.
To the point that I actually start wishing for more of Persephone’s persistent twitching. I can’t believe it, but her consuming stillness is even more unnerving. She’s as dedicated to it as the rest of the message she’s carried here. I almost envision her in head-to-toe armor, like some medieval soldier delivering an urgent quest to a king.
Except that in this mission,she’sthe hero—who’s already shouldering that grand aim. Taking it upon herself, at no small risk from many fronts, to enlist us in her cause. But is her bravery coming at the cost of her sanity? She can’t be serious…or expect us to think so.
As weird as the stillness is, I take another moment to recollect my thoughts. There has to be a political way of saying all that.
“Oh!”
But Persephone’s the one to shatter her own lull, startling as if something’s flown under her stiff suit and bitten her.
“I’m sorry,” she blurts, back to her blinking and fidgeting. “Hecate is looking for me. She can’t suspect a thing. None of them can. Do you understand?”
“Of course.” There’s thicker emotion in Kara’s voice, matching her urgent steps. She moves as if the goddess’s panic is a physical coercion, and maybe it is. She’s not even thinking about the flaps of my coat, which open enough to bleed out some baby glow. “Of course we understand. We promise to keep your secret.”
Persephone leans forward, sliding her white-knuckled grip up to Kara’s elbows. She keeps Kara close, forcing a lock of their stares from only inches apart. She’s not blinking anymore. Neither is my beautiful demon, who starts to realize what a slip she’s just committed.
“You keep mine,” the goddess utters, every syllable distinct, “andI’llkeepyours.”
Before I can discern if that’s a stone-cold threat or a parting promise, the goddess sweeps around and departs. My steps are nearly in time with hers, as I sprint forward until I’m gathering Kara close. But even then, I don’t yank my eyes from Persephone. She’s back in the elevator now, meaning she’ll turn around and give away some kind of clue…
