Page 21 of Edge of Stars

“So what if I said it?” Hecate declares, upping her own dramatic standoff game. “I still stand by all of it. Every last syllable!”

“Of course you do,” I insert, barely tying back a vicious chuff. “Because that’s the fun part of the adventure poster.” That leads me to a hard stare back toward Hermes. “But there’s fine print on the bottom of that thing, man. Did she let you see all that too? The parts about the lifetime rights to your soul and the permanent side effects?”

The god huffs. Shakes his head with threatening emphasis. “As I believe I’ve already stated, I am no untried welp. I do have a complete mind—”

“But a humble lap,” I cut in.

“Which means a desperate soul,” Kara adds. “The part of you that she’s taken advantage of, Hermes. The part that wants to believe every colorful, pretty dream she’s blown up for the poster, and not the part where you find out that unique place will be among a handful of surviving humans, at best. That the world she’s going to change the most is this one.”

The god stills his head. Drops his shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

Hecate grabs his shoulder so hard, the velvet looks permanently dented. “Darling, I told you they would try this. Do not listen—”

Somehow, one whoosh of Kara’s hand is enough to clamp her silent. My wife doesn’t pause to share my amazement. She remains brutally and beautifully on message.

“Planet Earth will be completely ravaged by this war,” she declares. “If Hecate’s told you otherwise, she’s lying. Everything you’ve known about this realm, perhaps even grown to love about it, is that awestriking because of its intricacy. Its fragility. Vulnerable points that won’t last when all the other realms decide to throw down against each other.”

She pauses with weighted deliberation. This time, Hermes doesn’t have half a syllable of retort. Shockingly, neither does Hecate—though the goddess looks as sure of her purpose as ever.

At last, Kara spreads out her arms. “All of this…will be a dystopia,” she asserts. “And guess what human beings don’t have time for, when they’re worried about food in their bellies and a roof over their head?”

I stiffen my stance while supplying that obvious answer. “Temples.” And the next one. “And feasts.”

And I should have known Hermes wouldn’t give up the head shaking for long. It’s back, along with a contorted scowl, as he bites out, “Bullshit. Preposterous bullshit. Do either of you actually think me one of your simpering media sluts, to blindly believe every tale you weave like this?”

I cluck my tongue before he’s done. “Do they really let you get away with all that language in the acropolis?”

“And who keeps allowing you these exemptions from fearmongering lies?”

Hecate flicks out the zinger with frightening grace, intensifying the effect by draping a protective hand around her protege’s shoulders. She’s just as intentionally feline as I step back, playing into her intention. But I’m past caring, or even explaining that the move is more disgust than fear, because I’m not done with my point. Not that it even matters anymore.

“Just like I said, my dearest,” she croons past Hermes’s curls. “Not worth a shred of attention. They only want to get into your head.”

“For once, darling, you’re not getting a word of argument,” I volley. “Not when there’s this much at stake.”

“Oh, for the love of Apollo.” Hermes earns back a few points of respect by stepping free from the goddess, though cancels the score by continuing his glower at Kara and me. “Do you think I am that vapid and selfish? That short-sighted?” He shoots out his arms, though keeps his tight grip on the grimoire with his left hand. “I am a fucking deity of Olympus. Her soul is mine too.” As his arms descend, his lips part on a bleak smile. “Perhaps it might be the best thing for the realms, you know. If all the humans fell into their oceans. Good riddance, hmmm?”

I narrow my returning regard. “Is that also a line she fed you? And that you bought? Because that’s what fucking deities do, right? Buy into every upsell on the truth from obsessive minor goddesses?”

Hecate’s lips part. As her mouth seethes, her eyes flash. “Minor goddess?”

But though I still refuse to flinch, she settles into a new preen. Does she think I’m afraid of getting doused in her spectral carbonite? She’s spared Kara and me for some reason, though that recognition is far from a reassuring one. Our friends and loved ones—hell, even President McCarthy and most of my department colleagues from the university—are being held as collateral against our help in her hideous scheme.

But why? And for what?

The goddess isn’t exactly going to spill, which means I can’t give up my drive at Hermes. No matter how infuriating the effort…

“All right, come on, man,” I mutter. “I actually agree with you here. You’re not a stupid pawn. So stop acting like one. Think for yourself, and then tell me this. What side suffers the most in a widespread war? Quick answer? All of them. Earth might end up as nothing but underwater islands, but the land of your soul won’t get out unscathed. Your kingdom will feel this too, buddy.”

“Enough.” Hecate doesn’t roar it, but I wish she would. Her feral hiss is enough to jerk at my posture, threatening a backlash I can’t predict. But the blow for which I brace is nothing but a trembling silence. “Does any of this surprise you?” she grits at Hermes, who’s now riding waves of clear confusion. “Snap out of it, dolt! I told you they’d try all of this, didn’t I? Preying on your hesitations. Digging into your psyche. Hermes! Don’t heed another—”

“What?” I cut in. “Don’t heed exactly what, ma’am? A scenario that makes too much sense?” I swing my glare back to Hermes. “She probably took you to Iremia, didn’t she? Gave you the grand VIP tour, along with the spiel about how you’d have your own luxury villa for little breaks away from Olympus when you needed them. You probably liked that back porch in the sala, perfect for enjoying your day’s cappuccino before one of your private witch wenches delivers your custom-ordered breakfast.”

Hermes rolls back on one foot, sliding into a skeptical scowl. “A little emotional baggage there, Professor Kane? I am more than happy to pass along my shrink’s details.”

“Not surprised you have it at the ready,” I reply. “As long as we’re all about transparency here, answer me honestly. You called for an appointment right after the tour, didn’t you? Despite everything, you were still baffled about why you couldn’t declare complete trust in the magical goddess with the diamond eyes. Because her goodwill came with a list of conditions. A long list. Stipulations that crept into strangeness. That hinted at the darker parts of her personality. I’ll affirm to you right now, they’re all true.”

No more gloating from the goddess. But she’s still tittering under her breath, adding an iridescent fingernail against her chin. “My truth or your predicament, Mr. Kane? Which is more believable right now?”