Shattered Gods (Dark Olympus, #10)(57)

“Circe.” She gives me a severe look. “It’s very much a farce. You want the city and your vengeance, and you’re conflating the two for appearances’ sake.”

“Demeter.” I match her vaguely patronizing tone. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking you can manipulate me the way you do everyone else around you. I may have personal goals regarding who we bring down, but this is for the city.”

“I have no doubt.” She studies her tea. “With that said—”

The door flings open, cutting her off, to reveal Nerissa. Her bruise has bloomed into a truly outstanding array of colors, but she refused to take more than the first night off after the incident. She sees Demeter and checks her stride, but only barely. “Circe, I have news about…” She glances at Demeter again and clears her throat. “Atalanta was spotted on our side of Cypress Bridge. She’s back in the upper city.”

Anticipation curls through me, chasing away the unwelcome feeling of doubt this conversation has spawned. The little assassin has me curious; it’s been a long time since someone surprised me the way she has. And considering how Hecate feels about her, she’ll have to be dealt with one way or another. I still haven’t decided on a course of action there. I need more information before I do something that can’t be taken back. “You have someone on her.”

It’s not a question, but Nerissa bobs her head. “Two. Do you want us to bring her in?”

I’m in the middle of considering that when Antigone steps into the room, looking just as harried as Nerissa. It seems to be the day for it. “Hephaestus,” she says simply.

Thank the gods. Xe has been a thorn since I arrived here, continuing to work away in the former Hephaestus’s deep labs, completely untouchable by normal people. We tried to get in, but after losing three people to the defenses, I decided it was better to wait and see. Xe had to leave eventually. “Where?”

“Xe and a small group appear to be headed toward Juniper Bridge. Xe and the others are being careful, not making an apparent run for it, but I’m certain Hephaestus means to cross over to the lower city.”

We absolutely cannot let that happen. I’m aware that Theseus was not a good fit for the Hephaestus title—even before his betrayal and subsequent stepping down—but we needed someone in that office to ensure there were no nasty surprises waiting when we reached the city. The past Hephaestus title holders didn’t always invent amazing infrastructures to benefit Olympus. Sometimes they created weapons. It’s something Brontes—now Hephaestus—has a reputation for being brilliant at. If the lower city gets access to a weapon we don’t have a counter for, it could mean this conflict stretches out for years instead of weeks.

It might mean we lose. Then all this pain and suffering would be for nothing. “Go after xe. Bring everyone you can spare. Under no circumstances is xe to cross the river, even if you have to kill xyr.”

Nerissa shifts. “But what about—”

“I’ll take care of that personally.” I refuse to let any of the anticipation curling through me surface. Wanting to go another round with Atalanta is selfish and has nothing at all to do with our ongoing plans, no matter how I backbend the logic of it being necessary. “Go. Both of you. Now.”

They exchange a look, and for a moment, I think Antigone might challenge me, but she finally nods and they hurry from the room. I turn to find Demeter watching me with a small smile on her face, as if I’m a child who just made their first watercolor. It’s condescending in the extreme.

She sets down her tea and stands. “It seems you have things well in hand. Will this affect the timing of Artemis’s trial?”

“Unlikely. Either Hephaestus will get past us, or xe will be in our custody shortly. One way or another, we move forward with Artemis.”

“Or xe will be dead. We mustn’t forget about that lovely little option. You certainly abuse it whenever you choose to.” She moves to the door. “All the same, inform me if the plan shifts. I’m going to my town house to make some calls. I’d like the opportunity to talk some sense into my daughters.”

Knowing what I do of the other three Dimitriou daughters, I find it highly unlikely even she can convince them to hang their husbands and partners out to dry in order to save their own skins. They would have been better served if she didn’t demonstrate her lessons in dealing with powerful people so well; now they’ll be turned against her.

I hold the door open for her. “Don’t give more than you get.”

She laughs warmly. “Circe, darling, give me some credit. I’ve been dancing this line for nearly as long as you’ve been alive.”

It’s an exaggeration. She’s only ten years older than me, give or take. I don’t bother to answer as I follow her out of the room. Our courses divert at the first hallway branch. She heads back toward the auditorium—and no doubt the parking lot in front of it.

I make my way to one of the locations where we’ve kept a small selection of vehicles away from the general public. It’s not secret, exactly, but we’ve intentionally guided the folks still lingering into common areas where we can keep an eye on them. My phone buzzes as I slide behind the wheel of a red car.


Nerissa: She’s in the upper warehouse district.



The next text is a pinned location. I zoom in, curiosity once again taking hold. We heard rumors of Atalanta crossing back to the lower city, but she was gone before my people could respond. Obviously someone knew she was coming and opened the way for her. But to have returned so quickly…