Page 271 of Bonds of Hercules
Dionysus and Apollo were shouting something.
More gasps sounded and people whispered as they pushed back, leaving a circle of space around Zeus.
The guards backed away from me, turning to their leader with distrust.
“You almost started another war!” Athena shouted, her face pale with betrayal. “The dishonor.”
Ares raised a sword.
My voice cracked over the speaker as I accused Zeus of ruining my life, and across the room, gray eyes narrowed as they met mine—they promised death.
Years ago, I’d seen the same expression on two people’s faces as I’d stood in front of Charlie protectively.
Zeus’s voice was loud and clear. “Grow up. This is Sparta—no onecares about little girls.”
All hell broke loose.
Hades roared, dense fog filling the room alongside Artemis’s glittering mist.
“Yessss,” Nyx hissed with excitement. “Kill the lion!”
Pure terror gripped the symposium as every inch of the room filled with Chthonic power.
Spartans and creatures fell to their knees, pulling at their hair.
Only the Chthonics and Olympian House leaders remained standing, gritting their teeth as they withstood the onslaught.
Augustus and Kharon were shoving people aside as they stalked toward Zeus.
Screams crescendoed.
Fate stood up on a chair, waving a smoking pipe. “The federation has been betrayed—by Zeus!” she announced as the recording clicked off. She winked at me.
I spotted a familiar muzzle. Patro stood next to Achilles in the corner of the room, whispering something in his ear. His hands waved with urgency.
Shit.I knew exactly what he was saying.I need to stop them.
“BETRAYER!” Poseidon shouted, pointing at Zeus across the kneeling room.
Kharon and Augustus were nearing the exposed leader.
Zeus shook his head, eyes darting around with shock as the Olympian and Chthonic leaders closed in on him.
“STOP,” Hades ordered.
Kharon lunged.
Crack.
Smoke billowed around Kharon.
The space where Zeus had stood was empty. He’d leapt away.
Bodies were prostrated all around.
The leader of the federation had fled.
I did it.I’d calculated the odds correctly—math had yet to fail me.
