“Almost there, almost there.” She practically carries me out of the elevator the second the doors open, taking us down another wide, marbled hall to a side door. We slip into one of the handful of courtyards that surround the building, a little bit of carefully curated garden in the midst of so much city. It’s dormant now, dusted with the light snow that started to fall while we were inside. The cold cuts through me like a knife, and I welcome the sting. Anything is better than being up in that room for another moment longer.
Dodona Tower is in the very center of downtown Olympus, one of the few pieces of property that is owned by the Thirteen as a whole rather than any one of the individuals, though everyone knows it’s Zeus’s in every way that counts. It’s a grand skyscraper that I used to find almost magical when I was too young to know better.
Psyche guides me to a stone bench. “Do you need to put your head between your knees?”
“It won’t help.” The world won’t stop spinning. I have to… I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I’ve always seen my path before me, stretching out through the years to my ultimate goal. It’s always been so clear. Finishing my master’s degree here in Olympus, a compromise with my mother. Wait until I turn twenty-five and gain my trust fund and then use the money to break free of Olympus. It’s hard to fight your way through the barrier that keeps us separate from the rest of the world, but it’s not impossible. Not with the right people helping, and my money ensures that will be the case. And then I’ll be free. I can move to California to do my PhD at Berkeley. A new city, a new life, a fresh start.
Now I can’t see anything at all.
“I can’t believe she did this.” Psyche starts pacing, her movements short and angry, her dark hair so like our mother’s swinging with each step. “Callisto is going to kill her. She knew you didn’t want any part of this, and she forced you into it anyway.”
“Psyche…” My throat feels hot and tight, my chest tighter yet. As if I’ve been impaled and am only now noticing. “He killed his last wife. His last three wives.”
“You don’t know that.” She answers automatically, but she won’t quite meet my gaze.
“Even if I don’t… Mother knew what everyone believes he’s capable of and didn’t care.” I wrap my arms around myself. It does nothing to quell my shakes. “She sold me to cement her power. She’s already one of the Thirteen. Why isn’t that good enough for her?”
Psyche perches on the bench next to me. “We’ll figure out a way through this. We just need time.”
“He’s not going to give me time,” I say dully. “He’s going to push the wedding through just like he pushed the proposal.” How long do I have? A week? A month?
“We should call Callisto.”
“No.” I nearly shout the word and make an effort to lower my voice. “If you tell her now, she’ll come straight here and make a scene.” When it comes to Callisto, that might mean yelling at our mother…or it might mean taking off one of the spike heels she favors and trying to stab Zeus in the throat. There would be consequences either way, and I can’t let my older sister bear the burden of protecting me.
I have to figure my own way through this.
Somehow.
“Maybe making a scene is a good thing at this point.”
Bless Psyche, but she still doesn’t understand. As daughters of Demeter, we have two choices—play within the rules of Olympus or leave the city behind entirely. That’s it. There is no bucking the system without paying the cost, and the consequences are too severe. One of us stepping out of line will create a ripple effect impacting everyone connected to us. Even Mother being one of the Thirteen won’t save us if it comes to that.
I should marry him. It would ensure my sisters remain protected, or as near to it as is possible in this pit of vipers. It’s the right thing to do, even if the very thought makes me ill. As if in response, my stomach surges and I barely get to the nearest bushes in time to be sick. I’m vaguely aware of Psyche holding my hair away from my face and rubbing my back in soothing circles.
I should do this…but I can’t.
“I can’t do this.” Saying it aloud makes it feel more real. I wipe my mouth and force myself to stand.
“We’re missing something. There’s no way that Mother would send you into a marriage with a man who might harm you. She’s ambitious, but she loves us. She wouldn’t put us in danger.”
There was a time when I agreed. After tonight, I don’t know what to believe. “I can’t do this,” I repeat. “I won’t do this.”
Psyche digs through her tiny purse and comes up with a stick of gum. When I make a face at her, she shrugs. “No use getting distracted by puke breath while you’re making life-changing statements of intent.”
I take the gum and the peppermint flavor does help ground me a bit. “I can’t do this,” I repeat again.
“Yes, you’ve mentioned that.” She doesn’t tell me how impossible this situation is going to be to get out of. She also doesn’t list all the reasons fighting it will never go my way. I’m just a single woman against all the power Olympus can bring to the fore. Stepping out of line isn’t an option. They’ll force me to my knees before they let me go. Getting out of this city was already going to take every resource I had. Getting out now that Zeus has claimed me? I don’t know if it’s even possible.
Psyche takes my hands. “What are you going to do?”
Panic bleats through my head. I have the budding suspicion that if I walk back into that building, I’ll never walk back out again. It feels paranoid, but I’d felt weird about how furtive Mother was acting for days now and look how that turned out. No, I can’t afford to ignore my instincts. Not any longer. Or maybe my fear is clouding my thoughts. I don’t know and I don’t care. I just know I absolutely cannot go back.
“Can you go get my purse?” I left both it and my phone upstairs. “And tell Mother that I don’t feel so well and that I’m going home?”
Psyche is already nodding. “Of course. Anything you need.”
It takes ten seconds after she’s gone to register that going home won’t solve any of these problems. Mother will just come collect me and deliver me back to my new fiancé, trussed up if necessary. I scrub my hands over my face.
I can’t go home, I can’t stay here, I can’t think.
I shove to my feet and turn for the entrance to the courtyard. I should wait for Psyche to get back, should let her talk me down into something resembling calm. She’s just as cunning as Mother; she’ll come up with a solution if given enough time. But letting her get involved means running the risk that Zeus will punish her alongside me the second he realizes I desperately don’t want his ring on my finger. If there’s a chance to spare my sisters from the consequences of my actions, I’m going to do it. Mother and Zeus will have no reason to punish them if they had no part in helping me defy this marriage.