Shattered Gods (Dark Olympus, #10)(66)

I share a glance with Antigone. Where is she going with this? She said she wanted to speak on the corruption within Olympus, to truly drive home what we’re doing here.

“But in the end, it wasn’t me who did those things. It was you. The people. There would be no food in this city if there weren’t workers planting, tending, and harvesting. If there weren’t drivers and distributors to transport it. If there weren’t grocers and small businesses that put that food into people’s hands. The best parts of Olympus have always been the people.” Demeter takes a deep breath. “Not the Thirteen.”

“There we go,” I murmur. The crowd seems to agree, whispers rising in a wave and then falling to anticipated silence almost as quickly.

“Every one of us is aware of the ways the Thirteen have used their power for selfish gains—including me.” She lifts her chin. “We wouldn’t be here if that wasn’t the truth. You deserve better than to be ruled by people who aren’t elected by the citizens, are not representing the population, and have no accountability to the city. And that applies whether there are thirteen leaders…” Her gaze slides to me. “Or one.”

I realize a beat too late what she’s doing. “Stop her. Now!”

Antigone rushes forward, but the other woman keeps speaking. “You deserve a new form of government that represents you. One that won’t kill on a personal vendetta and—”

Antigone punches Demeter in the stomach and yanks the microphone out of her hand. It’s too late. The damage has been done. The crowd shifts restlessly, people starting to shout.

“Let her speak!”

“She’s right!”

“We deserve better!”

On the other side of the space we’ve cleared, one of the three speakers we set up explodes in a brilliant flash of sparks. Shot, my brain supplies, even as I crouch down, hands instinctively going over my head. The second speaker dies a bare moment later, quickly followed by the third. Someone just eliminated our ability to speak over the crowd; any attempts to calm their growing rage will be unsuccessful. Shit.

Next to me, Artemis laughs. “You dumb bitch. She played us. You thought she wasn’t going to play you, too?”

“Shut up,” Antigone snaps. She pulls the gun from her holster and shoots Artemis twice in the chest.

I freeze as the woman’s body slumps next to me. “What are you doing?”

“The pomp and circumstance isn’t working. This is faster.” She turns the gun on Demeter. “You fucked us.”

The crowd surges forward as one, violence in every shriek and surge. I marched on the city—well, drove on the city—with the citizens. I gathered them on the university campus and spun their anger into purpose. Part of me always knew there was a possibility that they could turn on me, but I didn’t expect it like this.

In a single heartbeat, I’m back in the ocean again, Zeus’s hands around my throat as he holds me under the surface until he shoves me out into deeper water, letting the currents take my limp body away from him. Helpless. Terrified.

Noe disappears in the first wave. I have no idea if she goes down or if she is simply pulled into the mob to become part of it. All I can focus on is Antigone pulling me to my feet and shoving me behind her. I find myself next to Demeter as we back toward the barrier in the middle of the bridge.

A barrier that will most certainly not allow me entry.

My people try to form a line to keep the crowd back. They’re mostly successful, but it won’t last indefinitely. The feel of violence in the air grows with every frantic beat of my heart. I can taste it in the air. “No.”

Antigone keeps a vise grip around my bicep as she drags me behind her further onto the bridge. “Are you fucking happy?” Antigone yells at Demeter, her voice breaking. “You’ve killed us all.”

My back bumps against the barrier, and I have to swallow down a pained sound. It feels like a thousand bees stinging, but if there was any give at all, I would willingly take my chances. There isn’t. It’s a wall of pain I’ll be pinned against if we don’t figure out a plan, and fast.

For the first time in longer than I can remember, I don’t know what to do.

“Some sacrifices are worth it. There’s no going back now. You’ve lost.” Demeter pulls a tiny gun from her pocket—tiny but just as capable of killing as any other—and aims it at me. “This ends now.”

Somehow, I still have the space to admire how well she played me. I don’t know if this was her plan all along. Surely not? She’s shown herself to be changeable time and time again over the course of her duration as Demeter. If I hadn’t made several key mistakes, she would still be at my side, would still be using her influence and words to guide the citizens of Olympus to my preferred conclusion.

Instead, she’s killed me, even if she doesn’t manage to get a shot off. I shake my head…or maybe it’s my whole body shaking. I hold up my hands. “Don’t do this.”

I courted Demeter for the very reason that the mob listens to her. For all her faults, she did do better for her portion of Olympus. And everyone present knows it. If I can just find the right words, maybe I can turn the worst of the tide. Surely there’s some angle to take, some solution that my frantically circling brain just hasn’t landed on. “I was never going to kill Callisto or Persephone.”