The Iron Queen (Daughters of Zeus) - By Kaitlin Bevis Page 0,65
collar and yanked him toward me. Brandishing the Olympian Steele, I held it to his throat, careful not to so much as scratch his skin.
“You swore there were none left!” I shouted. I didn’t need to be this rattled, this emotional, this angry, not in this room with these gods, but there was no help for it.
Hephaestus blanched. “I… But…there’s no way—”
“You swore you’d melted down the very last of these abominations and taken their power into yourself. You swore!” I shook him like a rag doll.
Long ago, Hephaestus discovered some way to forge metal that could take down any god. The metal was infused with power that could kill in a matter of heartbeats. These weapons weren’t picky. A simple scratch or nick, anything that drew blood, and you were done for unless you acted fast.
“I did!”
“Then how the hell did Zeus have this?” Please gods, let me have been fast enough. Let her wake up. I’d done everything, hadn’t I? Stopping her heart stopped her circulation, and then I removed the infected area. She’d healed. That had to be a good sign, right? Crippling uncertainty gripped me like a vise. I wasn’t used to feeling uncertain. Once I told Persephone I’d never felt fear before I’d met her.
Now I was making up for lost time.
“I don’t know! But it’s not mine! I didn’t make this one, I swear.”
The words took a minute to sink in. If Hephaestus didn’t make this, then who did?
Luckily I knew who to ask.
Releasing Hephaestus so fast he stumbled backward, I was suddenly aware of everyone else in the room. The gods all had their eyes fixated on the Olympian Dagger. I clutched death in the palm of my hand.
No one fears death more than immortals. Humans adjust to their lot in life little bits at a time. They’re introduced to the concept with goldfish, then move up to puppies, ancient relatives and reckless friends, each victim closer to them than the last. Death follows them through life, making itself known. Numbing them bit by bit until there is nothing left in them but resignation. We had no such preparation. We were never meant to die.
“Is she dead?” Melissa’s shaky question shattered the silence of the room. It swelled and exploded into a million questions coming so fast and loud they blended together in an indistinct cacophony of chaos.
“Did she kill Zeus?”
“—our power!”
“—that weapon!”
“—break fealty.”
“—Olympian Steele! We need to—”
“She’s alive.” Please stay that way. “He’s dead. And I’m going back to the Underworld.”
“You swore she would break the bonds of fealty.” Athena’s eyes glittered with impatience.
My hand itched to slash the dagger across her throat. Persephone had gone through hell, sheer hell, while Athena sat on Demeter’s couch.
“Where’s my son?” Poseidon’s question made me wince. I’d forgotten about Triton.
I didn’t say anything, didn’t have to. Poseidon read the answer on my face. His knees buckled under him, face going blank with shock.
“I’m sorry,” I managed. And I was, for the kid.
“I didn’t deserve him.” Poseidon’s voice was raw.
No one argued. There are no shades of gray to gods. Without the ability to lie and make justifications, it’s difficult not to have a strong sense of justice. Poseidon was worse than most of us, but that any of us were able to look in the mirror every morning after the things we’d done was no small miracle.
None of us deserved to be happy, and we knew it. We didn’t deserve to have anything or anyone good in our lives. Gods, they’d known it. The Titans knew the abominations we would become. The horrific deeds we would commit. All the ways we would go on to abuse our creations. They’d tried to end our existence, to stop us, and in return we orchestrated their murder. We’d killed our parents. And then we created a species in our image, acting surprised when they spent every waking moment improving upon their methods of murder and mass destruction. We did that. We made them sadistic and twisted and broken. We were gods. Every bad thing that had ever happened lay at our feet. There was no one else to blame.
Every good thing, every happy moment filled me with dread because we didn’t deserve it. I’d spent my whole life with baited breath waiting for the day I’d have to answer for what I’d done. Zeus, Hera, Hestia, Demeter, Poseidon, they’d all paid the price for their sins. I was the only one left.
The thought had a prophetic ring to