“We miss you, too.” Psyche smiles. “Don’t worry about us. We have things under control here as much as possible.” She hangs up before I really register the statement.
Don’t worry about them.
I wasn’t worried about them, not really. Until now.
I call them back. It rings a long time before Psyche picks up. This time, Callisto and Eurydice are nowhere in evidence, and Psyche doesn’t look as chipper as she did a few minutes ago. I frown. “What’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?”
“We’re fine.”
“Yes, you keep saying that, but it sounds like you’re trying to reassure me and I am not reassured. Speak plainly. What’s going on?”
She looks over her shoulder, and the light in the room gets a little dimmer as if she shut the door or a window or something. “I think someone is following Eurydice. Actually, not just her. Callisto hasn’t said anything, but she’s even more on edge than the situation warrants. And I think I’ve seen the same lady the last three times I’ve left the penthouse.”
A chill cascades down my spine. “They know where I am. Why would they try to track you to me?”
Psyche presses her lips together and finally says, “I think they’re making sure none of us try to flee.”
“Why would Mother—” I stop short. “Not Mother. Zeus.”
“That’s my thought.” Psyche runs her fingers through her hair and twists, a nervous gesture she’s had since we were children. She’s scared.
I did this. Zeus wasn’t following any of us before I ran. I close my eyes, trying to play through possible scenarios, possible reasons for him to do this beyond safeguarding their presence in the upper city. I don’t like what I keep coming back to. “You don’t think she’ll sub one of you into the marriage instead of me, do you?” If that’s the case, I have to go back. I can’t be the reason one of my sisters ends up married to that monster, even if I have to take the hit to ensure it doesn’t happen.
“No.” She shakes her head and shakes it again harder. “Absolutely not. They painted themselves into a corner by announcing it publicly. They can’t force one of us to take your place without looking like fools, and that’s one thing Zeus and Mother will not do.”
That’s a relief, but not as much of a relief as I’d like it to be. “Then why?”
“I think he might try to trick you into coming back across the River Styx.” Psyche holds my gaze, as serious as I’ve ever seen her. “You can’t do it, Persephone. No matter what happens, you stay the course with Hades and get out of Olympus. We have things covered here.”
The chill bleeds through my entire body. What lengths will Zeus go to in order to get me back? I was so focused on how he might try to take me that I didn’t look at the other angles. Mother would never hurt her daughters, even if she moves us around like chess pieces. She might allow us to experience a certain level of danger, but she isn’t a complete monster. I have a feeling that if I actually went forward with the marriage, she had some sort of secondary plan in place to ensure I didn’t end up like the other Heras. It doesn’t matter, because she didn’t ask me.
But Zeus?
His reputation isn’t fabricated. Even if being a wife-killer is only rumor, the way he deals with enemies isn’t. He doesn’t maintain his ironclad grip on Olympus by being kind and considerate and shying away from making brutal calls. People obey him because they fear him. Because he’s given them reason to fear him.
Psyche must see the fear on my face, because she leans in and lowers her voice. “I mean it, Persephone. We are fine and have things covered over here. Don’t you dare come back for us.”
The guilt I’ve been very carefully not thinking about for days threatens to claw out my throat. I’ve been so focused on my plan, on my endgame, I didn’t really stop to consider that my sisters might be paying the price. “I’m the worst sister.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Not even a little bit. You want out, and you should get out. All three of us could leave if we wanted to.”
That doesn’t make me feel better. It might actually make me feel worse. “Being in that penthouse, being around those people… It makes me feel like I’m drowning.”
“I know.” Her dark eyes are sympathetic. “You don’t have to justify yourself to me.”
“But my selfishness—”