I go straight from the arena to the hospital, following the ambulance they stuffed Patroclus into. He needs surgery, though the nurses keep telling me it isn’t serious, that the doctor is optimistic, that he’ll be just fine. Optimistic. That shit isn’t a sure thing. I pace around the waiting room until they find an empty room to stash me in.
I wait and wait and wait. I’m practically climbing the walls as the minutes tick by without news, two thoughts rolling through my head at regular intervals.
I need him to be okay.
Helen should be here.
Except she’s not Helen anymore, is she? She’s Ares. She got what she always wanted, snatched that shit right out of my hands even if she wasn’t the one to eliminate me. Why would she be worried about me, about Patroclus now? It’s not a fair thought, but it’s clear she has no intention of coming. She would have shown up by now if she wanted to be here.
More than that… I don’t know if I’m ready to see her. The future I had in my head, the one I’d been working toward for years, is gone. No matter what else is true, I will never be Ares now. Without that title…
I drag my hands over my face. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I can’t find my feet, can’t figure out next steps, until I know Patroclus is okay. He’ll figure out the future for both of us.
Unless he doesn’t want me anymore. I’m not the winner he fell in love with. It’s my fault he got hurt. He wouldn’t even have been in the tournament if not for me. He begged me to leave him behind in the second trial and I ignored him.
I curse. Patroclus wouldn’t dump me for not securing the title. That’s not how he operates, no matter what my sudden insecurity is sure of. No, it’s far more likely that things with Patroclus will fall apart if we can’t find a way forward with Helen. He got a taste of how well she balanced the two of us. How can he be satisfied with only me now that he’s had her, too?
A knock on the door has me spinning on my heel, but the person who steps inside isn’t a nurse and it’s sure as fuck not Helen. It’s Eros. I know who he is, know who his mother was to Patroclus’s moms. Enemy. Rival. Danger. Eros and I have never had reason to cross paths. He plays the part of the golden fuckboy, and I’m the soldier. Or at least both those things used to be true. Now Eros has, by all appearances, settled down into domestic life with Psyche Dimitriou.
And me? I don’t know who I am anymore. “What are you doing here?”
“Giving Hermes a respite from playing messenger.” He leans against the door. He might look like a playboy, but everyone knows the rumor about him. When his mother was still Aphrodite, he was her fixer. She pointed him at the people she wanted taken out and pulled the trigger. What the fuck is he doing here?
I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m listening.”
“Helen can’t come. You’re Athena’s people, and she doesn’t want the new Ares anywhere near you.” He narrows his eyes. “I also get the feeling that she’s not sure of her welcome.”
“Sounds like excuses to me.” If I were in Helen’s place, I would have told Athena to fuck off, no matter how much I admire her. Patroclus matters more than anything.
“Spoken like a man with more brawn than brain.”
I start to snarl back, but I can’t help thinking about the conversation we had with Helen after the second trial. She might not have any experience leading soldiers, but her brain is more than twisty enough to be at home steeped in the Thirteen’s fucked-up politics. I have a prior relationship with Athena, which might have smoothed the way when I became Ares, but I know better than most that she bends for no one.
Would she truly have kept me from Patroclus?
The thought leaves me cold.
“Ah. Maybe there is a brain in there after all.” Eros shrugs. “It’s not my business. I’m only here to deliver Helen’s message. She said, and I quote, ‘Tell them that I still want that pretty future they painted. If they do, that is.’”
She wants a future with us. I don’t know whether to laugh or curse. This is probably some fucked-up version of karma for being so sure that she’d forgive me if I took Ares from her, but it’s not the same. It’s not the same. Without Ares, Helen is still a Kasios. She might be a pawn moved about by her brother, but she has power. Only a fool would say she doesn’t. People will remember her forever, would have even before she entered her name as a contender for Ares.
Even before she won.
I know who I am as Athena’s second-in-command. It’s not the role I wanted to play forever, but I understand the parameters. I’m good at it, too. The best.
If I gamble it all on Helen, that means sacrificing my place beneath Athena. She’s not one to allow her people to serve two masters, and starting a romantic relationship with Ares is exactly that. Leaving her command means there’s no going back. If things fall apart with Helen, I’ll truly be left with nothing. “She’s asking too much.”
“If you say so.” Eros sighs like I’ve disappointed him. I don’t get how. I barely know the guy. “Look, Helen is a friend, so I’m going to be uncharacteristically straight with you. Her charging to your side and defying Athena on her first day as Ares might sound romantic as fuck, but every action she makes now has consequences. There’s something happening in Olympus, something beyond the petty politics, and she can’t afford to make enemies right now. Not for anyone. It’s not just your lover’s life on the line.” He pulls open the door. “I’ll be in the waiting room until Patroclus gets out of surgery because she wants an update on him. If you decide you want to send a message back, that’s where you can find me.” He leaves without another word.
“Dick,” I mutter.
I can’t settle down, though. Helen’s words from yesterday come back to haunt me. How she said I wasn’t prepared for what it really means to be one of the Thirteen. I thought she was full of shit at the time, but who the fuck cares about someone and lets politics get in the way of making sure they’re okay?
I know what I would have done in her position.
Even knowing there might be far-reaching complications, I can’t say I’d do anything differently if I had won the title of Ares. Patroclus is mine. Olympus can burn if it means making sure he’s okay.
Rationally, I see why Helen made the choice she did, but I don’t know if it matters. The risk is too high with so little guaranteed payoff. For the first time in my life, I can’t see a way forward. I don’t have my internal assurance that I’ll realize the future I want.
I…failed.
I’ll come to terms with that—I know myself well enough to understand that—but I can’t think of anything at all until I’m assured Patroclus made it through surgery and I see him with my own eyes. Everything else can wait until then.
The door opens again, and this time it’s Athena who appears. She looks as perfectly put together as she appeared on the screen in the arena, only a faint tightness around her eyes giving lie to the image. “Patroclus is out of surgery and in recovery.” She holds up a hand when I start forward. “They need time to get him settled, but as soon as it’s possible, you’ll get access to his room.”
Not soon enough, but I trust Athena. If she says he made it through surgery, then he did. I exhale in a rush. Relief makes me a little dizzy, but I can barely believe it for truth. I need to see him. I need him to anchor me in the middle of this storm. I can’t see a path, but surely Patroclus will be able to. “This is so fucked.”
“Without a doubt.” She shakes her head slowly. “I’m going to be frank with you.”
I stop short. Athena doesn’t usually couch her criticism by easing people into it. She’s frank and to the point, and that’s one of the many reasons we are so loyal to her. “When are you anything but blunt with me?”
She smiles a little, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “We’re in trouble. Olympus. I don’t know all the details yet, but Minos brought in information when he brought his people. There’s a threat on the horizon, and I don’t know that the barrier will protect us from it.” She hesitates but finally says, “We needed you as Ares.”
Bitterness claws up my throat at the reminder of my failure. Athena never mentioned that there might be the potential for an attempted invasion, but it just reinforces that with me as Ares, there would be no unknowns. Even though I’m conflicted as fuck right now, I still find myself saying, “Helen will surprise you.”
“Maybe. I still would rather it have been you.”
I shrug, but I’m unable to keep the tension out of my voice. “Take that up with Paris.” Easier to blame him than to admit I fucked up. The moment Helen and Patroclus were in danger, I forgot about eliminating Paris and ran for them. I kept fighting the Minotaur even after he was eliminated because I wanted to remove him as a threat—and that had nothing to do with the tournament.
Helen was the one who eliminated the Minotaur and didn’t stick around to beat him to a pulp. She immediately went for Paris. That’s why she won and I didn’t. If I’d been paying attention, I could have dodged Paris’s arrows, too.
I lost sight of my goal.
Helen didn’t.
“Mmm.” Athena moves to the single window in the room and stares out. “He’s still in surgery. It will be a while before we know for sure, but it’s looking like Helen did permanent damage to his shoulder. He won’t ever draw a bow again.”
“Considering how often people use bows, I doubt that will slow him up any.” Which is a damn shame. That asshole better crawl back into whatever glittering hole he left when he entered the tournament, because if I see him on the street, I’m not certain I’ll be able to control the impulse to beat his handsome face in.
“All the same.” She shrugs. “Either way, we don’t deal with things as we wish they were; we deal with them as reality deals us the cards. Helen Kasios just became Ares in a moment when we need someone with military experience. It’s not ideal.”
She’s not wrong, but it still pricks at me to hear her talk about Helen that way. “She might not have the combat experience, but she’s got politics down to a science. She’s not a bad fit. Like I said, I think she’ll surprise you.”
“Maybe.” Athena studies me for a long moment. “Bellerophon says you and Patroclus got rather…close…with her.”
“Bellerophon should know better than to gossip like a teenager,” I snap.
“You know better.” She’s being careful, but Athena doesn’t have much patience for dancing around a topic. “You’re the best damn second-in-command I’ve ever had, and I’m going to need your skill set in the coming confrontation.” She hesitates. “But I will respect whatever decision you make in regard to the future.”
“Athena.” I wait for her to look at me. “If I resign and end up changing my mind…”
Her smile is bittersweet. “You’re smarter than that, Achilles. That decision is one that will stick. For better or worse, the fact is appearances matter in this city. I can’t have my position undermined by welcoming back Ares’s cast-offs.” She moves to the door. “Whatever your decision ends up being, be sure it’s what you want, because you’ll have to live with it.” Then she’s gone, closing the door softly behind her.
Everyone’s making a dramatic exit today.
It’s another hour before a nurse comes and collects me, herding me down the hall and up an elevator and through another series of halls to the room where Patroclus lies in a hospital bed. He looks too pale, too thin. It has the fear from before rushing back, amplifying. “He’s going to be okay?”
“The doctor will explain everything.” The nurse hesitates, but she must read the panic on my face because she leans closer and lowers her voice. “He’ll make a full recovery. There might be some hiccups along the way, but he’ll be fine.”
I don’t know if I believe her. I have to believe her. “Thanks.”
“He’ll wake up when he’s ready. Please be patient.” With one last significant look at me, she slips out of the room.
He looks…small. Patroclus lies on the bed, hooked up to several machines, his skin even paler than normal. Guilt pricks me, digging deep. The only reason he was in the tournament in the first place was to watch my back. I should have let him be eliminated in the second trial like he wanted, should have listened to him every time he warned me of the danger of pushing forward stubbornly. I bullied him into entering, and then I bullied him into continuing even when he was injured. I wanted him with me, and that selfish desire is the reason he’s in this bed now, still and drained.
I might not have wielded the sword that cut him, but this is my fault.
There’s not as much space here as there was downstairs, and I’m afraid if I start pacing again, I’ll knock into his bed and cause him pain on accident or something. So I don’t. I force my restless energy down deep and drop into the chair next to his bed.
It’s like the bastard was waiting for me to stop moving, because he opens his eyes almost immediately. “Achilles?” Even his voice is fucked up, raspy and too quiet.
I drag the chair forward and take his hand. “I’m here.” Touching him calms me a little, though it does nothing to remove the guilt plaguing me. My chest goes tight and awful. He’s okay. That’s the only thing that matters. He’s okay.
“I fucked up.”
“I think it’s more than safe to say the only one who really fucked up is me.” The horrible feeling in my chest shows up in my voice, making the words thick. “I got you into this mess because I couldn’t bear the thought of not having you at my side. You got hurt—twice—because I didn’t give a fuck about anything but my needs. I’m sorry. I know that’s not enough, but I’m fucking sorry, Patroclus.”
“Achilles…” Patroclus grips my hand hard. It’s much weaker than he’s normally capable of, but he gets his point across. “Did Paris win Ares?”
“No.”
He exhales and goes limp. “Thank the gods. If after everything, Helen was married to that bastard… We promised her that it wouldn’t happen.” His eyes fly open. “Wait, that means Helen is Ares.”
“Yes.” The bitterness is back in my tone, but even I don’t know if I’m bitter at Helen or the entire situation. I shake my head slowly. “You should have seen her. She dodged three arrows and threw one of her knives at him.”
“Risky,” he murmurs.
“She pulled it off.” I find myself smiling despite everything. “Hit him right in the shoulder joint and knocked his ass to the ground.”
Patroclus squeezes my hand. “I’m sorry.”
“What do you have to be sorry for?” I’m speaking too harshly, but there’s only one person in this room that fucked up spectacularly, and it’s me.
He smiles faintly. “I know you wanted Ares. I’m sorry you didn’t get to live out your dream.”
I hesitate, but Patroclus is in this with me, too, and I can’t hold back information from him, no matter how Athena’s words still churn away in the back of my mind. “Athena came by the hospital.” He doesn’t speak, so I force myself to continue. “She says she wants me to stay on as her second-in-command. I guess Bellerophon reported about how close we got with Helen, and she wanted to let me know that in order to pursue things with the new Ares, it means resigning with Athena. Do that, and there’s no going back.”
“Ah.”
I wait, but Patroclus doesn’t offer any brilliant insight. “Well?”
“Well, what?” He leans back and gives my hand another squeeze. “I can’t tell you what the right call is, Achilles. It’s a big decision, and you’re the only one who can make it.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
He shakes his head. “It’s up to you to decide if the cost is too high.”
I consider his words, what he did and didn’t say. “You’re going to Helen.”
“I’m not choosing,” Patroclus says firmly. “I love you. I will always love you. But I can’t ignore what I feel for her, either.”
“Athena won’t be happy if you try to straddle that line.”
He shrugs. “Then I’ll resign and see if Apollo’s willing to hire me. He’s one who sees value in information, so he won’t balk if I pursue a relationship with the new Ares and also with Athena’s second-in-command.”
“You’ve thought about this.” I can’t tell if I’m accusing him or not.
“I thought you’d become Ares.” He finally looks away. “I honestly hadn’t thought about contingency plans leading into the third trial. But, Achilles…” He meets my gaze. “I know you. You weren’t talking out your ass about keeping Helen. If you weren’t serious, you never would have brought it up. Did things really change that quickly just because you didn’t become Ares?”
I don’t have an easy answer. I don’t know if an easy answer exists. Finally, I say, “If I try with Helen and it blows up in my face, I’ll actually have lost everything. It’s not an easy choice for me.”
“Isn’t it?”
I open my mouth but stop before I keep arguing. Is Patroclus right? Yeah, it’s a risk to resign and go to Helen. She might have been playing a deeper game during the tournament, manipulating us into being allies who will watch her back, but…
I don’t believe it. Not for a second.
The connection between the three of us was real. More than that, I get Helen. I don’t have to be brilliant like Patroclus to understand the woman. She felt safe with us. She showed us vulnerability. That was real. I’m sure of it.
I sit back in the uncomfortable hospital chair but maintain my grip on Patroclus’s hand. As usual, he’s right. If what we shared was real, then there’s no choice at all. I expected Helen to get over her loss of dreams when I won. It’s hypocritical in the extreme to not be willing to do the same, even if I’m afraid. I shake my head, a reluctant smile pulling at my lips. “You really are a smart motherfucker.”
He smiles in return. “You would have figured it out eventually. I just helped things along.” He squeezes my hand, already feeling stronger. “You’ve always had enough faith for both of us. It’s my turn now. It will work out with Helen. I’m sure of it.”
“I believe you.” The door opens and a tall white man in surgical scrubs walks in. The doctor. I glance at Patroclus. “Let’s figure out what the damage is so we can get you checked out of this place and go get our girl.”
