Chapter 17 #2
“Are you going to hide out here while the city falls? Do you think that will save you?”
“So you do have something to say.” Her mouth thins. “Fine. You might as well come in and say it.” She turns around without another word and walks through the back door.
There’s a better-than-average chance she’ll shoot me the moment I follow, but this is Olympus, and not even Olympus at its most lawful. If she were going to kill me, she would do it out in the yard where the cleanup is easier. Probably.
I walk into a cozy hallway filled with pictures on the walls and follow the sounds of footsteps into a bright kitchen with large windows, granite countertops, and custom cabinets.
With anyone else, it would look like a showroom, but this is clearly used, and not just right now as Demeter resumes… peeling apples.
“You want to talk?” She speaks without looking up, peeling in a perfect spiral I would be hard put to mimic. “Then talk.”
I clear my throat. After all this time, I’m not used to speaking frankly. It’s a learned skill, and one I currently struggle with. “I’m sorry about Eros.”
She pauses for the briefest moment and then continues her spiral.
“I am, too.” She flicks the peel into a bowl and sets the bare apple in another.
“I was assured my family would remain safe. I know you think me a monster, and perhaps you’re even correct.
I would do any number of things to gain power and protect my girls’ futures, but there are lines. There have to be lines.”
I’m inclined to agree, though my lines and Demeter’s are markedly different in many ways.
“She’s not going to let Persephone and Callisto walk away intact.
She can’t afford to.” I don’t want to believe Circe would hurt those women or end their pregnancies, but she’s up to her eyeballs in sunk cost fallacy the same way I am.
She can’t change course now, no matter the consequences, no matter what sins she’s pushed to commit.
If she does, it all comes crashing down.
I want to save her.
I’m a fool, but I’m self-aware enough to realize it. I close my eyes for a breath and then refocus on Demeter, who still hasn’t looked at me. “Maybe you allowed yourself to be convinced before realizing that, but you’re too smart not to understand the truth of things now.”
She sighs. “You want the same thing she does.”
“Same endgame, maybe, but not the same methods.” I shrug. “Look around, Demeter. You may be ambitious and ruthless to a fault, but you have always taken care of the people of Olympus in your own way. Can you say the same for others among the Thirteen?”
“No.”
I respect her more for her honesty. “You wouldn’t have sided with Circe if you thought the others had a chance of winning.”
Demeter finishes another apple and sets it aside. She finally looks up and meets my gaze steadily. “What do you want from me, Hermes?”
“You can’t just hide out here. She won’t let you, and neither will Olympus.
” I take a deep breath. This is my one shot to pivot us from guaranteed ruin to something with better odds.
“The people still love you. That’s why Circe focused on wooing you so intensely.
She knew that, with you by her side, it would give her a measure of credence.
The people of Olympus trust you. That hasn’t changed.
” Her expression doesn’t shift from its carefully blank state, so I continue.
“If you stand against her, the people will turn on her. Her public perception is already wavering because of Eros’s death; his and Psyche’s love story was one for the ages.
” The latter might be a bit of a stretch, but I’m sure it’s true for at least some of them.
But it is true that the woman standing in front of me, peeling apples, can turn the tide.
“It’s a risk,” Demeter says finally. “The Thirteen will never take me back after this miscalculation.”
“If things go well, there won’t be a Thirteen to take you back.
” I shrug. “You could be part of the movement to remake things. People will follow your lead. If you’re the architect of a new form of government designed to protect the people, you’ll be all but immortal.
It’s a legacy to rival the original founding of the city. ”
She smiles thinly. “You always were good with words.”
“I have to be.”
“Indeed.” Demeter sets the knife aside. I’m not sure where she put the shotgun—probably within easy reach—but she’s not going to shoot me in her house. I’m sure of it. Mostly sure. She picks up a cloth and wipes her hands. “It will have to be timed correctly.”
I barely dare to draw breath. I don’t trust Demeter—can’t trust Demeter—but she loves her daughters. And I’m starting to realize she may just love this city, too. “I’m open to suggestions.”
She pulls a cutting board out of a drawer and slides it across to me, along with a small knife. A token of trust, apparently. “Start slicing the apples while we talk. We’ll have a plan in place by the time the pie is done.” She pauses. “And then…I have something to show you.”