She waited for him to speak, watching his face as he watched the sea.
“I have a plan for us,” he said quietly, “and I need you to trust me and listen to what I have to say.”
Nerves twisted her stomach, and she followed his gaze. Then narrowed her eyes. There, sitting on the gently tossing waves, was a large, dark shadow. Long and thin, with a wide sail.
“Demitri, is that a ship?” She tightened her grip on his hand, turning to look at him. “Do you see that? Who would be coming here?”
His eyes did not shift from the sea. “Come with me tonight, Iyana. We have the avyssos. Within the month, we will fix everything. No more tyrannical Olympians. A new regime.” He finally turned to look at her, a strange light in those blue eyes. “You can be part of this with me.”
She looked from him back to the ship. A small boat was lowered over one side, two dark figures in it. Her hand began to tremble in his. “Demitri,” she whispered. “Tell me that’s not Poinê.”
“It is.” He squeezed her hand, as though trying to be reassuring, but it felt like a trap closing.
“You … you brought them here?” She shook her head, trying to clear it. This can’t be real. “You’re working with Chrysander. You’ve been with them this whole time.”
“Yes.” Demitri still sounded calm, but there was an undertone of intensity there. He released her hand, only to catch her chin and look her directly in the eye. “This is the right thing to do, Iyana. You know the Olympians are cruel. You’ll never go home, never gain immortality under their rule. Come with me.”
“Demitri, we talked about this.” Her voice came out strangled. “We had a plan, remember? We can prove ourselves to the Olympians by turning Poinê in. It could improve so many things for us—”
“Could isn’t good enough.”
“But the chaos, the violence. You said yourself it was all too extreme—”
“We need extreme. This is justice.”
“Galene—”
“She doesn’t understand.” He cut her off. “She’s grown up trying to make them proud of her and is still under the illusion that one day she can.”
Iyana gaped at him, struggling to find something else to say. Below her, the rowboat slid onto the sand.
“When we have the new regime set up, Galene and the others can come back,” he soothed. “We’ll need people like Galene to take over for Poseidon on the seas … She’ll thank us later. Leave them behind tonight so we can do this for them. Do it for everything you believe in.”
She wanted to resist him, her mind screaming logic about death and destruction, but a small voice in her whispered that his plan made some kind of sense. And Demitri was her rock. He’d always known what was best.
“Trust me, Iyana.” He put his hand between them, palm up. “Take a leap of faith.”
A strange feeling flooded through her at his words, his outstretched hand. It was so familiar, like she had lived this moment in another life, and if she only reached out and took his hand she would complete the parallel …
Her recent dream came flooding unbidden into her memory.
“Iyana, you need to jump.”
“I’m serious, there’s no way—!”
“The cliff you’re standing on is going to collapse! You have to trust me, Iyana!”
She trembled. “I … I do trust you,” she whispered.
“Then jump!”
She leapt.
Staring at his hand in shock, Iyana’s mind spun through her other dreams. Him protecting her from the taraxippi. A memory that wasn’t a memory, when he disappeared and the arrows struck.
“I’ve been having dreams,” she whispered, meeting Demitri’s eyes again. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”
He watched her grimly, lowering his hand. That was enough confirmation.
“You’ve hidden a second ability from us all this time. You can manipulate dreams, can’t you?”
His expression didn’t change. Rage grew hot in her. “You’ve been manipulating me!” Her voice rose to a shout. “Why would you plant ideas in my head? To make me dependent on you? So I would come with you tonight?”
“They were just dreams, Iyana,” he said placatingly. Come now, Iyana, his voice seemed to say. Don’t be dramatic, Iyana.
She stumbled back, everything he’d ever said warping in her mind. Could she even trust the feelings she had for him? Had he always been pulling the strings? She racked her brain, trying to think of any more dreams he could have twisted to his advantage. Braxtus. Her anger lurched even higher. “You gave Braxtus nightmares. Terrible ones, keeping him up all night!”
He just gave a slow blink. She wanted to shatter his calm, make him beg for forgiveness. What else did he …
It hit her like a charging bull. The dream that had started this whole mess. She swayed, feeling her face drain of color. Demitri looked like he was bracing himself, completely aware of what she had realized, but at first she couldn’t even get the words through her teeth.
“Apollo,” she managed. “You twisted his prophetic dream to show Galene. You stole the Decks of Fates and created the beasts.”
“Iyana—” Demitri started, reaching for her.
“Am I wrong?” She took another step back.
His eyes flashed, and he drew himself to his full height. “No.”
Footsteps sounded from beyond Demitri, climbing up the cliff from the opposite slope. She looked past him, eyes making out two distinct figures stepping through the fog—a young god, and a tall goddess with long, midnight hair.
“Demitri!” Chrysander called. “Do you have it?”
“I have it.” Demitri kept his eyes on Iyana as he called back.
“Then hurry up, will you?”
Hatred, shock, and fury pounded through Iyana. She whirled toward their camp.
“Traitor!” The wind snatched her words, tearing back toward her friends. “Demitri is a traitor!”
29
GALENE
Gasping for air, Galene jerked awake.
Wind whipped the hair from her face. Her heart pounded, head spinning as words echoed through her mind. Demitri’s a traitor. She blinked away the darkness of her nightmare, the words fading as she turned over to fall back asleep. Her eyes fell on the vacated stone.
She jolted back up, smacking Kostas in the process. He gave a light groan as she spun to look into the cold night.
Beneath the starry sky, the misty scene was still.
Kostas sat up. “Galene, what’s wrong?”
“Where are Demitri and Iyana?”
He looked over to where they should’ve been sleeping, his eyes clearing as he tried to make sense of the situation. They suddenly flashed. He leapt to his feet. “Galene, you have the avyssos, right?”
She blinked, then grasped at the pouch on her belt. It folded under her fingers, empty. Her heart skipped a beat, and she plunged her hand inside, but her fingers groped over nothing. She rolled away to search where she’d been sleeping, frantic. Kostas watched in silence.
Braxtus jerked and twitched in his sleep, muttering under his breath. “Betrayal,” he breathed. Galene froze, listening. “Demitri’s a traitor.”
The words triggered a jolt up Galene’s spine. She locked eyes with Kostas, his mouth a hard line.
“No,” she whispered. “He wouldn’t…”
But Kostas was already by Braxtus’s side, shaking him awake. Galene scrambled to her feet as Braxtus grunted and opened his eyes.
“Iyana’s calling us.” He stared vacantly at Kostas. “I heard her voice.”
Kostas grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. “Come on, there’s trouble.”
Snatching only their weapons, the three of them took off barefoot and armorless over the rocks.
An almost full moon shone just above the horizon, and a breeze swept away the mist, clearing their visibility. Even so, Galene had a hard time making out much in the darkness as they ran across the clifftop.
“I’m
such an idiot,” Kostas hissed. His eyes gleamed. “I should have known, I should have figured it out sooner. All of Demitri’s emotions, since Poinê’s camp—I misinterpreted them all.”
Galene sucked in a breath as her foot scraped against a particularly sharp rock. “What do you mean?”
“He was good.” Anger shattered his usual unbreakable calm. “He disguised what he felt, twisting his fear of being caught to blend with situational fear. And back at the camp, do you remember, he approached with Chrysander, then appeared to knock him out. They were together from the start!”
Dread clenched her gut. So Chrysander got through to you after all, Demitri. She tried to run faster, but exhaustion hindered her. Where are they?
The silence was the most ominous part of all. Galene withdrew one of her throwing knives from her belt, waiting to hear something, anything …
A shrill scream split the night, and Galene immediately regretted her thoughts. She snapped her gaze ahead of her, to the right. There, at the edge of the cliff, stood four figures. One of them grabbed Iyana’s small frame, hauling her away in the opposite direction.
No. Galene took off. Kostas’s and Braxtus’s footsteps pounded behind.
A wall of wind slammed into her, sending her hair streaming and eyes watering. Her lungs burned, her legs shook with fatigue. She gasped, but try as she might to hold her pace, Braxtus and Kostas soon outstripped her.
The downward slope ahead led back to the beach, where a small ship waited just off the shore. Braxtus and Kostas ran down toward the four figures.
Braxtus skidded to a halt as Demitri turned to face him, splitting his staff into two swords. Kostas stopped farther back, hurrying to nock an arrow. Galene’s eyes fell onto one of the figures beyond him, and she stumbled to a stop.
Chrysander.
Beside him stood Poinê, dark hair free and flooding over purple robes, gripping Iyana close.
She drew a dagger, clenching her hand around the hilt.
Demitri’s eyes flicked to Kostas, then to Galene, then back to Braxtus. Nobody moved.
“Hello, Galene.” A bucket of ice seemed to drop down Galene’s spine as the dark-haired beauty spoke, a smile curving her lips. “I believe I owe you thanks.”
Galene continued running toward Iyana, but Demitri hefted a sword. “Go. And steer clear of Olympus until we’ve usurped the Olympians.”
She halted next to Kostas.
“You have no idea what you’re dealing with, Galene.” Chrysander had flint in his gaze. “Get out of here, or someone will get hurt.”
“He’s right.” Poinê’s eyes were as black as Kostas’s, but where his were the midnight sky, hers were empty caverns. “In gratitude of your … ah … efforts on my behalf, I’ll let you leave with your lives. But if you become unreasonable, you just might force my hand.”
Iyana twisted furiously in her grip, but the goddess didn’t seem to notice.
“You’ve been double-crossing us since the camp,” Galene growled at Demitri, fury rising.
He looked her square in the eye. “Actually, no. It’s been since Chrysander left the mountain. Before you were even exiled. Before I set you up to be exiled.” He said the words with relish, as though he’d been waiting to take ownership of his actions.
The world reeled. “How?” She couldn’t get her voice above a whisper.
“He’s been hiding a second gift, and it has nothing to do with war!” Iyana spat. “It’s dreams. He manipulates them to influence others. He manipulated Apollo’s vision.”
Galene’s mind spun wildly as the pieces fit together. “Apollo’s vision … you…” She felt like she didn’t have enough air.
Demitri twisted his lips into a mocking smile. “Based on what Chrysander kept telling me over the years, I’d expected more from you, Galene. Truly, how naive can you get to believe all of this”—he swept his hand holding the avyssos aloft—“had been orchestrated by the Fates? So much went into this. Iyana nearly messed it all up by exiling herself, too, and I had to fix the problem. You might not have left her behind alone, so I decided to come along, just in case.”
Behind him, Iyana sucked in a breath. Torment swam in her eyes.
“And then I thought, if we could all go…”
“My father gave me that boon,” Galene said through gritted teeth.
Demitri’s eyes glittered. “Why do you think Poseidon thought of it? Because I planted the idea in his head with a dream.”
Hot, angry tears Galene didn’t even know had risen spilled onto her cheeks. “That’s why you framed me. Because I can breathe underwater. So I could get the avyssos for you.”
“We hoped you’d join our cause, but we had a plan to make you go even if you refused.” Chysander stepped forward, watching her. “I figured you’d be too noble to just step aside and let Olympus fall, so we told you we had another who could go instead. Anyss, remember?” He snorted. “She can only make it rain. There was no one else but you, Galene, and all you needed was the motivation to get it.”
Galene’s rage erupted. She threw her dagger at her brother.
Her throw was weak and he dodged easily, but she ran at him, drawing her scimitar. It felt too heavy in her arms, but she didn’t care. He freed his blade from its scabbard just in time to stop hers, and they met with a clash of steel.
“You ruined my life!” She pulled back her sword and swung it forward with her trembling strength. “My own brother!” The words came out as sobs.
He ducked under the blow. Galene spun and kicked Chrysander in the stomach, but as he doubled over someone hit her, tackling her to the ground. Demitri pressed one of his twin swords to her throat.
Kostas cried out and Iyana screamed. From the corner of her eye Galene could see Braxtus start to charge.
“Stop!” Iyana yelled. “Everyone stop! Demitri, let her go. Let her go and I’ll come with you willingly. I’ll do this with you.”
“No!” Braxtus yelled.
But the blade eased up on Galene’s throat, Demitri’s eyes going to Iyana. Poinê released her, and she ran to Demitri. Tears clung to Iyana’s eyelashes, and she threw her arms around him, crying into his shoulder. He pulled back from Galene, rising, letting him hold her and keeping his blades safely away.
Galene felt sick, renewed hatred bubbling under her skin. How much had Demitri hurt Iyana? What dreams had he been putting into her head? Galene watched, wanting to tear them apart. Were Iyana’s thoughts even her own anymore?
“It’s okay, Demitri,” Iyana soothed. “We don’t need to fight. Please.” She pushed up on her toes to kiss him.
Galene gripped her scimitar tighter, and she heard Braxtus growl.
“Leave them be,” Iyana said as she pulled back, “and let’s go.”
Demitri nodded slowly. He slid his two swords back together into a staff, and guided Iyana toward Poinê.
Galene felt her heart fracture as her best friend walked away with a traitor.
He had never deserved her.
Then, in one quick movement, Iyana shoved Demitri to the ground. She ran, a glow of silver and gold shining through her clenched fingers.
30
KOSTAS
Everyone understood what had happened at the same time.
“Get her!” Poinê yelled.
With a curse, Demitri launched to his feet and took off after Iyana, steaming with red and green. Chrysander moved to follow, but Galene lunged at his knees, hauling him to the ground. “Run, Iyana!”
Kostas followed Iyana’s projected path—to the cliff’s edge. She’s going to throw it into the sea. Where Galene could carry it away, back to the depths.
Kostas aimed one of his last arrows at Demitri, but Braxtus moved in the way, crouching to tackle him. Without missing a step, Demitri grabbed Braxtus’s shoulder, leaping to roll across his back. He landed smoothly on his feet again and continued running.
Kostas fired. The arrow whistled through the air, but before it hit home, Demitri spun his staff, deflec
ting it.
He shot again, but once more, the son of Ares cut the missile from the air. Kostas started running.
Demetri was gaining on Iyana.
Kostas reached back for a third arrow, but his fingers groped at nothing. He tossed aside his bow and ran. Demitri’s eyes shifted to his.
Iyana was a stride from the cliff’s edge and its dizzying drop.
Kostas skidded between her and Demitri, Iyana’s hair whipping his neck as he raised his arms to shield her.
Demitri grabbed Kostas’s shoulders and, with all his momentum, shoved him sideways, catching Iyana’s arm mid-throw.
Kostas staggered back, one step, two steps—
His foot met no ground, and his stomach lurched as he fell backward off the cliff.
31
BRAXTUS
Braxtus felt as though he were falling beside his best friend as Kostas disappeared over the edge. Galene screamed.
Wind howled to furious life, rocking Braxtus as Iyana leaned out over the cliff against Demitri’s grasp.
Catch him, Iyana!
Distantly, he heard Kostas strike the ground two hundred feet below.
Braxtus swayed.
Iyana’s knees buckled, and Demitri dragged her back to safety, tearing the avyssos from her fingers. He glanced down once, then turned away, lip curling, as though pushing Kostas off a cliff had been mildly distasteful.
Iyana crumpled to the ground, a sob breaking from her. The sound tore through Braxtus’s shock, and he staggered in their direction, broadsword almost slipping from his shaking hand.
A rush of dark hair and violet robes swept past him, and Demitri left Iyana crying in the dust, meeting Poinê and handing her the avyssos. She took it with a jerk. “Return to the boat, Chrysander, and signal the ship to prepare to leave.” Her voice was stony.
Behind him, Braxtus heard a tussle, then someone running down the slope. He glanced back in time to see Galene struggle to her feet and take off after her brother.
He turned back and met Demitri’s cold eyes.
Fury and pain wracked him. He bared his teeth, lifted his sword, and hurled himself at the treacherous god.
The Immortal Game Page 20
