Page 26 of Edge of Stars

“Her?”

Maximus’s interjection is the beacon I need in this harsh, dark valley. I snap my sights over to meet his stare, only now realizing what I’ve blurted.

Her.

I nod his way, affirming it—because I know it. Somehow, in the middle of that new power that just suffused me for her—from her?—it became my truth. Our truth.

A certitude I need now more than any other moment of this day. Of this year.

It’s a bolster all the way up my spine, spreading at the top into my whole mind and soul, as Hecate takes another step closer. Her posture is Mother Superior regality. Her stare is Gaia serenity. Her new smile is unflagging—and enraging.

“Oh, my dear girl,” she murmurs. “You really believe all of that, don’t you?”

I hitch my chin higher. “Oh, goddess. I know it.”

But the flippant edge is more for me than her, and she doesn’t hide her surety of it.

Damn it.

I’m used to dancing on the edge of Hollywood control games, not a tight wire between the mortal and magical worlds. The thread is higher than I expect. Scarier. Especially as she looks me over with new intent. Blindingly clear intention.

She’s ready to walk on this wire along with me. And probably do a much better job of it.

“And I know that you’ll agree to join me, sweet one. Or everybody in here will stay like this.”

Because there’s her hideous safety net.

I suck in air until it hurts. At the same time, before Maximus even knows I’ve sought his gaze for support, he looks across at his mom. An illegible profanity tumbles from beneath his breath.

I almost spit out the same words. But it’s not a luxury I can allow. Not as I pin my stare again on Hecate, digging in for as much of her aura as I can. Desperately searching for a shred of bullshit to call her out for.

I come back with nothing but her cool certainty. And knowing arrogance.

“No.” I thrash my head from side to side. “I still don’t believe you.”

“Neither do I,” Zeus bites out. “Hecate. Come on. This isn’t you, dear one. Granted, it’s a good bluff, but—”

Hecate’s hiss is a brutal interruption. It twists back on itself, becoming the thorny underline of her comeback. “You don’t know me anymore, Majesty. But go on and believe what you will choose. After all, your judgment has been so good for guiding Olympus. Who needs grand shrines when people can look like you with a thirty-dollar costume and a nylon wig?”

“And my judgment?” I challenge. “I also call no joy. There are nearly two hundred people here. How long can you maintain—”

“As long as it takes,” the goddess croons. “I mean, please, not forever. But if a human body isn’t allowed to move or eat or hydrate…how long does that take? Add in a few more days for your family, who likely have stouter constitutions…”

“No!”

I pull in enough oxygen to shove volume into the protest, but it drains most of my strength. My knees buckle, and I double over, wrapping protective hands back across my stomach.

What do I do?

Surrender myself and this child to save my family and friends? And when that’s done, hope and pray that Hecate will honor my oblation enough to let me live? To let me see and touch my daughter?

Not if she’s determined about winning her war.

Which means I have to find a way out of here, no matter what the cost—including the sacrifice of everyone I hold dear.

Maybe even Maximus.

No, no, no!