Page 37 of Crown of Olympus
Athena’s lip tugged into a small smile. “Whatever it takes.”
“You’re going to want to add someone else before the next meeting,” Aros warned. Athena raised her brows, waiting for the name. “Aphrodite.”
“The goddess of love?” Demeter exclaimed, her face twisting in confoundment.
We both nodded.
“They’re friends,” Aros explained. “Your trial showed me that much.”
“Alright. I’ll speak with her,” Athena agreed. “The more Primals we have on board, the easier it will be to overcome the others. While we cannot cater our trials to Hades’ champion — she must pass them the same as any other, or the crown won’t choose her — we can offer her our help in other ways.”
The group continued planning for another hour, while the alcohol buzzed through my body, calling me to sleep. At some point, we were uncuffed, and my lightning zapped Athena who’d done as she promised and removed them herself.
I winced in apology, but the goddess only shook her head and laughed quietly. The same happened when she released Aros, except his flames singed the sleeves of her cloak.
“You’d best be off before anyone notices you’re missing,” she said quietly.
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” I replied, matching her tone.
“Remember — you can’t trust anyone outside of the faces you’ve seen tonight.”
We nodded in unison, making our way to the exit.
“Wait, how will we contact you?” I asked, pausing at the door.
Apollo pursed his lips.
You don’t. We will contact you.
He lifted one side of his cloak, revealing a small goldenbrooch I hadn’t noticed earlier. It was in the shape of a sword, with a crown dangling from its tip.
We call ourselves the Xifos tis Moiras. The Sword of Fate.
With those words bouncing around inside my skull the whole walk through Aetherion, it was a wonder I didn’t blurt them out the second my mother demanded to know where I’d been.
“Tavern. With Aros,” I told her.
She moved to come closer, but with a sudden flare of her nostrils, stepped backwards instead.
“Honestly, Caelus,” Hera whined. “You need a bath. And less disgusting friends.”
“He’s Ares’ son. I thought you would have approved,” I snapped back.
“He’s not like the others. That one is different,” my mother sneered. “You’d be better off with someone like Leander.”
At the mention of Poseidon’s arrogant heir, my lips turned down. My mother noticed instantly.
“Ally with him. You and Aros, both. Do not test me, son.” Her voice dropped as she levelled her threat, eyes narrowing furiously.
“Whatever you say, Mother,” I sighed, dragging myself up the grand staircase one step at a time.
Why did my bedchamber have to be so far away?
“Heed the warning, Caelus — or you’ll be sorry.”
I rolled my eyes. My mother had a flair for the dramatic, but in this instance, I suspected she’d already set other plans inmotion. If one thing about Hera remained true, it was that she was devious and had a talent for scheming.
I wondered if I could somehow warn Apollo or Athena — but they were probably suspicious of anyone not already part of their rebellion.
