Chapter 26

26

SELENE

J ust as Orpheus predicted, the Olympians forged ahead to the amphitheatre the next evening, as if Hera’s death had been nothing more than an inconsequential wrinkle in an otherwise smooth fortnight. As the Third Crown, it was Athena’s night to make the sacrifice beneath a cloud-studded sky. The blood moon remained, but the crimson light was dull and fogged. Dense mist whorled through the amphitheatre.

I stood beside my column. The others took up their places and watched on with silent stoicism, very pointedly ignoring the empty space beside Hera’s crown. Athena led a frail mortal woman to the statue of Erebus, her curly gray hair fizzing in the humidity. There was no sign of the previous night’s sacrifice or ensuing battle. Whatever had remained of the blood and ash was gone.

Solemnly, Athena tapped the woman’s shoulders. The woman bowed her head and knelt before her queen. It was a stark contrast to the violent displays of the past two nights, though I wasn’t entirely surprised. Despite the vicious-looking broad sword she carried with her even now, Athena didn’t strike me as someone prone to dramatic displays of cruelty.

Within a matter of moments, Athena snapped the mortal’s neck and shared the blood with the rest of us. She only spoke to voice the required maxims, and then we all drifted back toward the palace. Half of the Olympians split off into the megaron, but I aimed my feet down the east wing’s corridor and back into my rooms.

An achingly familiar silence greeted me as I closed the door. Hector was out exploring the island, so I had only myself to keep me company. Me and my dark thoughts about the future of Hellas.

The following night passed in a similar fashion. Ares was the Fourth Crown, and he surprised me by handling his sacrifice more like Athena than like Zeus. He’d brought an elderly man, whose shuffling feet squelched in the mud. When he stumbled in the muck, Ares caught his arm and helped him along to the statue of Erebus. The man trembled, but he didn’t plead or beg or cry. He merely accepted his fate, like he’d expected it to happen.

After we passed the chalice around our circle, Ares reverently placed his crown atop his column and gazed up at the statue of Erebus. He bowed his head, then touched his fingers to his lips, mouthing a silent prayer. I fought the urge to scoff. I wasn’t sure why, but I felt almost…disappointed by this overt display of reverence. It didn’t seem to fit .

But nothing about him did.

His tense frame seemed to hum with a barely contained bloodlust. Like at any moment, he might snap and rip through someone’s neck. But he’d treated his sacrifice with respect. He hadn’t torn him apart.

And now he was worshipping the primordial being who had ordered them to murder innocent mortals in this pathetic ceremony, just for Erebus’s…what? His amusement?

My lip curled back as I stared at Ares, annoyed at the way his wavy hair fell into his eyes so perfectly.

As if sensing my attention, Ares shifted his gaze my way. Our eyes locked across the amphitheatre. Our columns stood on opposite sides of the statue, and yet he suddenly felt far too near. His words echoed in my mind from the night he’d come to my rooms.

Because of who you are, Selene.

He knew the truth about me.

Releasing the grip on his crown, he stepped away from his column and smirked. I curled my fingers into fists. He knew exactly what was on my mind, and he was relishing in it. All it would take was one uttered word to Zeus, and he could forge my end. Mine and Troy’s.

Ares wanted to make me squirm. He wanted to stretch this out as painfully as possible until he let the hammer fall.

Somehow, I had to convince him that he was mistaken. There were only four people in this world who knew the truth. One of them was dead, and one of them was me. Orpheus was the third, and he would take the matter to his ashen grave. So that only left one person. And that was impossible.

So Ares could only have guessed. He didn’t know for certain.

Zeus’s harsh voice cut through my tormented thoughts, calling an end to the night’s ceremony. The Olympians abandoned the statue and columns, clustering into groups as they headed back inside. Eleven cloaked figures, faces shadowed beneath hoods. As ever, the blood moon hovered in the sky, blotting out by inky clouds. Still, the Olympians hid in their cloaks. They weren’t taking any chances now, not after what had happened to Hera.

As I followed the others, Dionysos hung back. He dealt me a warm smile. It was the first time anyone, other than Ares, had acknowledged my existence. Even when we’d passed the chalice around these past two nights, no one had looked me directly in the eye.

“There’s some wine in the megaron with your name on it,” he said in a jovial tone.

I eyed him warily, slipping my hands into my cloak pockets as we walked. “Is that a good idea?”

“Drinking? Absolutely.”

“Having me join you.” I motioned at the trio leaving the amphitheatre ahead of us. Poseidon, Zeus, and Hermes had been inseparable these past two days, as far as I could tell. To and from the amphitheatre, they exchanged fervent whispers. Every so often, one of them would glance around, eyes darting all over the place. They clearly didn’t want to be overheard. I wouldn’t be surprised if it had something to do with me.

“They won’t be there,” he said, smile momentarily fading. “Last night, they hid away in Zeus’s rooms until sunrise. I don’t doubt they’ll do the same again tonight.”

“So who will be there?” My head nearly swivelled to where I’d noticed Ares. He walked with Apollo, Demeter, and Athena. But I kept my gaze on Dion’s face. I didn’t want him to think I was seeking Ares out.

“Hephaestus. He’s bringing the wine.”

“That’s it?” I asked, surprised.

He shrugged. “I guess everyone’s still a bit on edge after…well, the whole Hera thing.”

I had decided I needed some allies, and Dionysos was one of the few I’d even consider. My mother had trusted him. And while I doubted I would ever consider him a friend, perhaps he didn’t have to be an enemy.

I gave him a small nod. “I’ll come. But only for a drink or two.”

His face broke out into a broad smile, and he thunked my back with an enthusiasm that caught me off guard. “Thank god. I thought I’d have to entertain Hephy by myself again, and I think I’d rather carve a hole in my head than do that.”

I slowed my steps. “Wait. What exactly does that mean we’re—”

He pressed a finger to my lips, his eyes dancing. “Nope, you already agreed. You can’t back out on me now, Selene.”

I t turned out Hephaestus had sneaked a flask into the ceremony. And since no one had been paying much attention to him, he’d sipped away at it. Now he was drunk—as drunk as I’d ever seen a vampire.

He twirled through the megaron on his cane, throwing his cloak off his shoulders as he danced to a silent song. The material became a puddle of black against the marble floor, and Hephaestus circled it until he collapsed into a nearby chair. His cheeks were flushed from the exertion. Or maybe from all the wine.

“Ah,” he puffed, noticing me and Dion hovering just inside the door. “Come, Selene. You’ve yet to try my wine.”

I trailed over to the table, where a deep crimson liquid gleamed inside a glass decanter. A dozen silver chalices surrounded it. Each was embossed with the symbol of one of the thirteen crowns. I found mine easily enough. As I poured myself a drink, my thumb rubbed the crescent moon, a match for the symbol etched into my ring.

“Oh yes, the moon .” Hephaestus rose, his eyes latched on my chalice. “That’s the Trojan symbol. The moon. You’re the perfect person to answer a question for me.”

I tugged on the end of my sleeve, then lifted the chalice to my lips. The scent of fire filled my nose, and when I took a drink, heat stormed through my belly. Coughing, I blinked away the burning tears in my eyes.

“What in god’s name is in this?” I said, pulling the chalice away to squint at the liquid. It looked like wine. But it certainly didn’t taste like any I’d ever tried.

Hephaestus chuckled. “It’s my speciality. Comes from a strand of grapes only found within the volcanos of Lemnos. Makes it a bit spicy.”

“Heph, it’s more than a bit spicy.” But Dion didn’t seem at all put off by it. He took a substantial drink of the chalice Hephaestus had already poured for him.

“You didn’t answer my question about the moon,” Hephaestus said, trailing his fingers along the harp. A discordant sound filled the megaron, echoing ominously against the vaulted ceiling.

I pulled a chair out from the table, schooling my features into an expression of indifference. “You didn’t actually ask a question.” Then I smiled. “How about this? You find me some wine that doesn’t taste like you’ve shoved a torch down my throat, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know, as long as I have the answer.”

He laughed, pointed at me. “You know what? I like you. I’m sorry if I was a little standoffish your first night here, but…well, we didn’t know how much the Titan traits would have been passed down to you.”

I stilled. “The Titan traits?”

Instead of answering, Hephaestus bustled toward the archway that led into the kitchens, and the sound of his cane thunking against stone drifted behind him. I frowned over at Dionysos, but he merely shrugged. A moment later, the wine master returned, waving a dusty bottle in the air.

“Here we are.” He crossed the room, took my chalice, and downed the contents I’d left in it.

“Oh. All right,” I said with a laugh.

With a wink, he tipped the new wine into the glass and handed it back to me. “There you are. Non-volcano wine.”

“Thanks.” I took a timid sip. An elegant sweetness coated my tongue, and I nearly sighed in contentment. Nothing tasted as good as blood, but this came in as a close second.

Hephaestus beamed, then eased into the chair beside mine. “Now for my question. Why is that blood moon stubbornly refusing to leave our skies?”

I pursed my lips. He’d come frighteningly close to asking a question I actually did know the answer to, and despite his drunkenness, there was a striking clarity in his eyes. I wasn’t entirely certain I’d be able to convince him with a lie. Thankfully, he’d gone in a different direction.

“I honestly have no idea,” I told him with an apologetic smile.

“Hmph.” He folded his arms. “But you’ve seen one before?”

“Yes, the blood moon appears in Troy on occasion. It’s never been constant like this, though. Have you not?”

Dion shifted behind me and placed his hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. Instinctively, I stiffened. I wasn’t used to people randomly touching me. And for a moment, I wondered if Dionysos was trying to warn me not to speak about the blood moon. How much, exactly, had my mother confided in him?

But then he leaned down, and his voice was barely a whisper. “Ares is about to walk through that door. I heard him coming.”

Fuck.

My hand tightened on my chalice. Before I could think it through, I downed the wine, not that it would do me much good. I’d barely get a buzz off of this kind. I needed the spicy stuff. I needed to burn.

Dion noted my reaction. “I can block him at the door and tell him to go away.”

“No.” I situated myself in the chair, draping my green velvet skirt just so and crossing my ankles. Loosened the tension in my shoulders. Poured myself another glass and swirled the wine in an almost absentminded manner.

Ares was coming. Steadying my breath, I put my carefully constructed mask back into place just as he strolled through the door.

He caught sight of me the second he stepped inside the room. As he slowed to a stop, his gaze shifted and latched on where Dionysos held my shoulder. Those golden specks flared bright in his eyes, and that barely contained anger I often sensed in him seemed to hum through the room.

“Get your hands off her,” he snarled.

Dionysos released my shoulder and held up his hands, slowly backing away from me. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

He looked from Dionysos to Hephaestus to the chalice of wine in my hand. Much to my surprise, I’d managed to keep a lock on my emotions, despite this bizarre display from Ares. I still swirled the wine, ankles crossed and shoulders loose. If I had to guess, I appeared to be the calmest one in the room.

Ares ignored Dion’s words and strode right up to him. He was several inches taller, and his broad, muscular form seemed to dwarf Dion’s more slender body. “It doesn’t matter how angry you are about what happened to Hera. Selene is off-limits. If one of us takes matters into our—”

“Does she look like she’s in danger?” Hephaestus cut in, shuffling over with another chalice in his hand. A boar’s head was embossed on this one, and he’d filled it to the brim. Crimson liquid sloshed over the edges. “We’re having a drink and nothing more. Looks like you could use one, too.”

“A drink?” Ares repeated with a frown.

“Yes.” Dion loosed an exasperated sigh and threw up his hands. “What did you think we were doing?”

Ares continued to frown, but he took the offered chalice.

This night had taken a rather peculiar turn. Ares had appeared again, seemingly to protect me from harm. Again. But nothing about his actions made any sense, and I was beginning to suspect there was far more to it.

He wanted something. There was a goal in all of this. What it was, I had no idea. Was he trying to get me to trust him? If so, for what? It couldn’t be good, whatever it was. A man didn’t just go from wanting you dead to saving your life in the span of three days—not unless he had a reason.

Ares left not long after, and I shared another drink with Dion and Hephaestus before retiring to my rooms for the evening. When I closed the door behind me and shook off my cloak, I was surprised to find I was breathless. I pressed my hand to the lacy bodice of my gown and felt the tremor of my heart. Being in the presence of all these Olympians was clearly getting to me.

I couldn’t wait for Nekros to end.

Beyond the windows, pale pink rays caressed the skyline. I gathered my journal from the desk and padded into the bedroom. Time to curl up beneath the covers and jot down my thoughts before trying my damndest to find some sleep. I hadn’t been able to rest much since I’d arrived here, far too on edge.

Hector rushed toward me from the balcony as soon as I pressed into the bedroom. He cawed emphatically, flaring his wings. I frowned and turned as he darted toward the door. The raven landed on the doorknob and pecked at the wood.

“What is it, Hector?” I lowered my journal onto the bed and trailed after him.

He smacked his beak against the door again. Three times in quick succession. It was a code we’d established years before. There was something he wanted me to see— needed me to see, really. Whatever he’d found, it was important.

And so I grabbed my cloak and tossed it around my shoulders once more. Sleep would have to come later. Duty called.