Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
This situation with Polyphemus was an unfortunate series of events, but ultimately it changes nothing. I need whatever information Icarus has. Circe is invading. I don’t know what hope Olympus has of prevailing when we can’t even manage a simple majority vote to go to war to protect the city. Even if we had, we have limited armed forces with no actual experience, no equipped navy, no barrier to protect us. But if Circe wants the whole of Olympus ground to dust, then surrendering is not an option. The risks are too high. She might very well decide to murder everyone, right down to the last civilian.
More, surrender would require a united ruling body the same way going to war would. We don’t have that. Not even with the threat of invasion breathing down our necks. The only thing we managed to come to an agreement on during that meeting was that we would start evacuating civilians to the country, under Demeter’s oversight. There’s space out there, but I highly doubt there’s enough to house an entire city’s worth of people. At least not for any extended period of time.
Despite myself, my attention shifts to Icarus’s face. He truly is beautiful. High cheekbones, a sensual mouth, a delicate bone structure that makes me feel ham-handed just sitting in his presence. I had thought him young, probably in his early twenties, but in sleep, the weight of his years sits on his features. He has to be approaching thirty.
He groans faintly and his eyes flicker open. They’re just as dark as his sister’s, just as wide. Just as haunted. He shifts and groans again. “So. Still alive.”
“My personal doctor is on the way, but I don’t think you were in any danger of dying.” I ignore the fact that it was something I was actively worried about for a few moments. “Don’t move too much, though. I don’t want you to reopen your wounds.”
“Why not? Like I told your little torture buddy, I don’t have the information you need to stop Circe. No one does. She’s going to win. There’s not a damn thing you, I, or anyone else can do to stop her.” He shifts again and frowns. “Am I naked?”
Embarrassment heats my skin until it feels like an inferno just beneath the surface. “I didn’t see anything. I kept you covered the whole time. But you couldn’t stay in those bloody clothes. Are you warm enough?”
He blinks those big eyes at me. “I’ve just been cut a dozen times, and you’re asking me if I’m warm enough?”
When he puts it like that, it does sound ridiculous. I clear my throat. “Yes.”
“Oh.” He shifts a little and winces. “Well, in that case, I’m happy to report that everything hurts and I kind of wish I were dead, but I’m a perfect temperature.”
This is one of our first actual conversations, and it strikes me that he communicates very similarly to so many of the Thirteen—charming, oily lies. I’ve had fifteen years of learning to read the things he’s not saying, though. I suspect that when he’s in full health, he’s better able to lie with his face and body, but right now his discomfort and fear are clear.
I have the strangest urge to find the words to make him feel more at ease. What a ludicrous idea. He shouldn’t be at ease. He’s not safe. I may not have ordered Polyphemus to harm him, but that doesn’t mean I’m not capable of doing it. I wouldn’t feel any joy, but ultimately the life of one person comes nowhere near outweighing the lives of everyone in this city. Most of the Thirteen don’t take that responsibility to heart, but I do. I’ve felt the burden of those people’s safety for my entire adult life. I’m not about to fail them now, not when they need me the most.
Still, words spring from my lips despite my intention of staying silent. “This won’t happen again, but I need you to tell me what you know, even if you say it won’t help. We won’t know what will or won’t be an asset until we have all the information available. For that I need you alive. You’re safe with me. At least until this ends.”
Icarus laughs bitterly. “And here I heard you were the honest one. Silly man. I’m not safe, and neither are you. Circe. Is. Coming.”
5
Icarus
I wake to waves of agonizing pain. My entire chest is a blazing firestorm. Even before I open my eyes, the events of the last however long come rushing back. My father’s death. Ariadne sailing off into the horizon. The one-eyed man torturing me.
And…Poseidon himself attempting to patch me up.
It’s that last that has me opening my eyes to take in my new situation. I’m back on the bed, but it feels different. The mattress has changed; I’m nearly certain of it. It doesn’t make any sense. I could have sworn I was somewhere with a hard surface, cool against my naked skin, but maybe I imagined it.