Page 25 of Edge of Stars

Maximus and I planned so hard. Dreamed so high. We prayed we’d prevent a war but might have accelerated its arrival instead.

Oh, God.

I hate how sure that sounds in my mind and soul as I examine the goddess’s stature. Fifteen minutes ago, Hecate swept up from her pew like a queen about to hold court. Now she’s a monarch leaning toward madness, edging toward a fighting stance as Zeus approaches with a commanding stalk.

“Dial it down, my friend,” he rumbles on the way. “Way down.”

Hecate bares all her teeth. Watching her expression unfurl, I’m stunned by wonder. Less than a month ago, that grimace would’ve had me trembling in a weird mix of awe, fear, and admiration. Not anymore. Now that I know how she used those impressions to mold my thoughts and choices…to reshape my entire life…

The same thing she’s trying now, shooting indicting glares my way. Reminding me of a traitor summoned to trial, still trembling with the belief that she’s been wronged. Still clinging to her deranged cause.

But when she speaks up again, it’s a direct spit at Zeus instead. “Friend? That’s truly how you want to proceed here, Majesty? With me?”

She bursts into a high laugh, as if she’s spouted the year’s best joke. Oddly, the moment has me backtracking on some of my fury. Sprout has expanded more than my heart, strengthened more than my spirit. In this moment, I recognize my mind cracking open more too.

In those apertures, I’m able to acknowledge the method to the goddess’s madness. So many centuries of service, believing in the Olympian ideals even when Z and Hera were shitting on them… I’m almost amazed she hasn’t splintered sooner. In the saddest ways, her desperation is their fault. Her monarchs owe her a long, focused listen.

Thankfully, probably miraculously, Zeus actually looks to comprehend grasping that point, as well. At least for now. Which ultimately is what matters.

But he makes us wait for the payoff, disturbing the air with a long, reluctant growl. “Damn it, Hecate,” he finally grits out. “You know it’s exactly how I do want to go. You are still my friend. Don’t you see it the same way?”

Hecate sniffs hard. Gulps with more determination. Her emotion is deep and disturbing—and still here at the edges of my psyche, trying to suck me back in.

I clutch a hand tighter to my middle and resist. And resist.

At last she rasps to Zeus, “You’d like me to answer that with a sweet nod and a serene smile, wouldn’t you? That would make everything just so easy. Everyone put right back where you want us to be. Back into our nice little boxes.”

As she pauses, her eyes glimmer brighter. A cold breeze comes from nowhere, lifting the edges of her damp curls. Such similarity to the night I first met her, but not at all the same—unless my soul-deep sadness counts.

“Oh, yes,” she finally goes on, not-so-subtly goading. “That would please you, hmmm, All-father? Tucking us all neatly in, fitting under your thumb once more. Shoved into the whorls by all the pandering and the platitudes—”

“And the willingness to solve this without wiping out a whole realm?” I spew it because someone has to, and the witch will stop the hardest for me. But I make it clear that I’m not just ready to hit with words. I bunch my skirt higher, ready to throw myself physically into the effort.

Ready but not willing.

Don’t make me do this anymore, goddess. Please don’t make me hurt you.

I have no idea if she hears that. Sometimes, I’m positive she’s making margin notes on every thought in my mind; other days she’s a mask of mystery, giving nothing away. But this circumstance fits neither of those occasions. I can’t figure her out because her emotions are like a storm front around her, blinding my senses with thunderheads of anger and electric flashes of stinging grief.

The deluge cuts into me. And at once, suddenly softens me.

“Goddess,” I entreaty now, stopping before her with both arms spread. Despite my own internal squall, the moment’s irony doesn’t escape me. This is the pose she used, so open yet gentle, when first commanding my trust. The belief in her promise to guide me to my truth. Well, she accomplished the job—just not in the ways she expected. “Listen to Z. Please. He wants to work on this. Can’t you hear that? Can’t you see—”

“The same thing I’ve been hearing and seeing for centuries?” she retorts much too quickly. “Don’t you see that, Kara? All of it? Do you see everything I was reassured about, even as my temples fell and my believers wandered off? Then as his did? Can you imagine the empty promises, one after the other, of revisions that would be explored when we turned into fiction and folktales? When nothing was done, even as our impact on the hearts of humankind was reduced to nothing but amusing adventures?”

I sag by several inches. “I won’t pretend to know that I get it, okay? I really can’t comprehend exactly what you felt…and are still feeling. But—”

“No.” She counters by straightening with the same increment. “You cannot imagine. So don’t try to tug on my tears, girl. Don’t stand there and tell me that you have faith in the measure of my soul. I don’t have faith in it anymore. It has been crushed—shattered—by this wretch and the shrew who sits beside him on the dais!”

As she slashes a trembling finger toward Zeus, I concentrate on calmly returning to my full height. Then, when I’m sure she’s done: “I’m standing here because I must. You’ve given me no other choice, have you? Except the one I abhor having to make.”

She lowers her hand—though this time, it’s with balletic finesse. A repose that works the opposite effect on the fine hairs of my nape.

“Then allow me to choose for you.”

For that very reason.

“Go ahead,” I spit. “Make the move. You know I won’t really try to stop you, given the situation.” My nod toward my middle is terse. “But know this. I won’t go as your eager little protege. Not anymore. You can put me on the game board, but I refuse to move around it at your bidding. And if you think my child will be any more malleable, especially if you eliminate me to get to her, then you’ve lost your war before it’s begun.”