The urge to cry gets worse. “I owe you my life.”
Athena huffs, half rolling her eyes again. “Let’s not exaggerate. Now”—she rubs her hands together—“terms.”
I glance at Piers again, still reeling from seeing Ares wearing my braided hair around his wrist. Not even the mention of terms appears to interest Piers, though. He’s staring at Kaia, but his expression looks dull and unfocused.
Griffin watches his brother as well. Anger burns brightly in Griffin’s eyes, stoked hotter by terrible hurt. I slip my hand into his, squeezing gently. He doesn’t look at me, but after a moment, he grips my hand back so hard it aches.
I return my focus to the Olympians because looking at Griffin is breaking my heart. Piers’s betrayal must have shattered him on a deep level. Now, perhaps even worse, he’s about to lose his brother forever before he has time to even try to understand or forgive.
Ares glares at Piers. “He has to pay for what he tried to do to my little monster.”
“She has a name,” Persephone snaps out impatiently.
“I know,” Ares snaps back. “It’s Little Monster.”
“No, it’s Catal—”
“Not important,” I interrupt. “What do you mean by terms?” I ask Athena.
The look Athena levels on me is so icy I get chills. She jerks her spear from the ground and then flips it in her hand, pointing it straight at me. For a terrifying second, I think she’s going to run me through.
Her eyes narrow. “You’re just like Artemis said. Irreverent in the extreme.”
I swallow. I guess I overstepped. Or she’s not used to me. Probably both.
Athena thumps her spear against her shield, startling everyone. Apparently, that’s her way of opening negotiations. Better than skewering me, at least.
“He’ll be fluent in the first ten languages he hears,” she announces.
Good Gods! How many do they have?
“Hundreds. Attica’s big,” Athena answers, as if I’d spoken out loud.
Goose bumps flare down my arms. I don’t want the Gods in my head. I don’t want anyone in my head.
Persephone scowls. “His brain will explode.”
“And that’s not even a punishment. That’s a reward,” Ares grumbles. “He craves knowledge.”
“He has to be useful,” Athena points out, her tone a clear indication that she thinks we’re all a torch short of being bright. “Six languages, then.”
Ares glowers at her, crossing his arms. “Three.”
Athena flashes her teeth. It’s not a smile. “Fine. But no fewer or there’s practically no point.”
Ares takes his time considering. “Done. As long as he remembers everything about his life here—especially today. That will be punishment for years to come.”
I look back and forth between the Olympians and Piers. On the one hand, Piers should be tearing himself up inside. On the other, believing he feels intense remorse confuses my own feelings. It’s so much easier to just despise someone.
Athena tilts her head, studying Piers. She eventually agrees to Ares’s stipulation. “Just not at first,” she adds. “He’ll need to adjust without any of that in the way.”
“Then when?” Ares asks.
“Something will trigger his memories. When the time is right.”
“What?” the God demands.
“I’ll decide on the way,” Athena replies through tightly gritted teeth.
A muscle jumps in Ares’s cheek, but then he nods. Athena’s answer seemed pretty vague to me, but apparently it’s good enough for him.
Athena nods back before thumping her spear across her shield again, closing negotiations, I guess.
“Time to say goodbye.” Athena’s voice comes to us from out of thin air because she disappears before suddenly reappearing again right next to Piers, his upper arm already gripped in her large hand. Piers doesn’t even react, while Griffin, Kaia, and I all startle in surprise. In fact, Piers doesn’t look at her or seem to care about Athena or her negotiations at all. He just keeps staring at Griffin and Kaia like he’s dead inside.
An ache tugs at my chest, and something inside of me shifts. Despite my best efforts to hold on to an everlasting, Olympian grudge, my hatred decides to swallow itself whole.
Griffin still holds my hand. I have my husband and an unshakable faith in our bond. I have a baby growing inside me. I have our friends and family. We have two realms and a populace swelling behind us on a wave of hope that I will keep alive for them, no matter what, even if it kills me, because the people of Thalyria need Elpis. After generations of oppression and living in fear, we have it within us, and within our grasp, to overcome the evils of this world and to not only survive, but to finally thrive.
Realization spreads through me, both stunning and frightening in its proportions.
Oh Gods. I don’t just represent Elpis. I am Elpis—the personification and spirit of hope.
The knowledge hits me like a God Bolt, nailing me to the spot. Responsibility is a heavy mantle, and my shoulders nearly break under its sudden weight.
Persephone slides me a satisfied look, nodding once. Ares nods, too. They’re telling me I’m right. Elpis isn’t just an abstract concept or an ideology to follow; it’s me. Flesh and blood me. I’m an idea in human form.
Fast and jumbled and dizzying, thoughts crash through my head like a storm. I don’t have the luxury of denial anymore. I have to integrate and accept a different reality, a new paradigm that completely alters my view of myself and the world around me, and I have to do it now.
I force slow, even breaths. It seems fitting that this huge part of me would have come from Pandora’s Box, dragged through all the darkness and violence known to man and beast and God alike, yet I would somehow be forged from the one intangible substance that remains steadfast and unbreakable through even the worst pain, suffering, evil, and plight. Hope.
Tears sting my eyes. Piers has nothing. No one. Not even Elpis.
“No! Make him forget!” I don’t know if anyone listens to me. I only know that the Gods have their own set of rules, and morals, and as far as I know, little capacity for compassion, and even less for forgiveness.
Piers jerks, seeming to finally wake up. He looks at me like he’s seeing me for the first time, and the sight of me hurts his eyes. Motionless at my side, Griffin is a shadow of his usual vibrant self. Kaia steps forward, leaking a sob, her hands outstretched to the brother she’s about to lose forever. I start to follow her—I’m not sure why—but Griffin tightens his grip on my hand, stopping me. A heartbeat later, he grabs Kaia with his free hand and pulls her back.
Griffin moves away from Piers, taking us both with him. It’s not just a step back; it’s a message that opens a giant emotional abyss between Piers and us.
His eyes meet Griffin’s, and Piers flinches. Then he and Athena are gone.
CHAPTER 6