Poseidon was still laughing under his breath as he walked past the gates of Upper Olympus. When last had he felt such rapturous excitement? A pity Phorcys spoiled things early.

  He intended to be quick with this. Pass the hair to Athena and be on his way to Rea. He had not seen her in nearly three days. Now that he felt particularly alive, it made sense to spoil her a little.

  Humming, he had just turned in the direction of Athena's estate when someone stepped into his path. A blank-faced woman wearing an austere dark robe. As she offered a polite bow, the golden pin at her chest threw off light, revealing her station.

  Why had one of Zeus’ personal messengers sought him out? He glanced around; nothing out of the ordinary. A normal day with rolling couches and servants milling about the paved path. He flashed a smile despite the messenger’s blank stare. “What do I owe this honour?”

  “Father requests your immediate presence,” she said in a monotone before leaving his path and walking away.

  Poseidon huffed in annoyance. All this time, he had been the one seeking an audience. To suddenly be summoned like this… Did it have something to do with his clash with Ceto? How did Zeus learn of it so quickly? No, it seemed like the messenger had been waiting for his arrival.

  Not good. If there was anything Poseidon’s long existence had taught him, it was to always expect the worst from such immediate summons. Blowing a long breath in preparation, he moved and was soon at the peak of Mount Olympus. There he was ushered into the waiting outer garden.

  Too tense to sit, he stood by the doors and waited, and waited, and waited. Nearly two horai later, the doors silently opened to reveal not the expected garden but Zeus’ throne room. The horrible one with the crimson marble floor and white walls.

  Ah, this wasn't good at all. Damning judgements were usually given here, the soul-shattering type Zeus preferred to dish personally.

  Perhaps he has discovered—

  Poseidon snatched the thought and hurled it with a frantic savagery. Zeus has not discovered anything. This was something else. Not about treason. Not about death priestesses. This was not a judegment hearing.

  Breathing through his mouth, Poseidon clung to his polished performance ability and offered a smooth bow.

  “You sent for me.”

  From the corner of his eye, he spotted the two-headed Desmyr. They watched him unblinkingly, sunken eyes peering past strings of gunk stretching between eyelids. Their job was mainly portal summoning. Did that mean this wasn't a judgement?

  Relaxing a little, Poseidon ripped his focus from their disturbing appearance and looked at Zeus, who sat on his elevated throne. Irritation flared at the sight. Making me wait for almost two horai while you sit with ease. These were the spiteful little things that drove Poseidon into Athena’s rebellious arms.

  And speak, damn it.

  But Zeus continued to silently watch him, elbow balanced on an armrest and jaw propped on his closed fist. He was in the form of ‘the young man’, chest bare and white curls brushing his shoulders.

  When the stare stretched on with Zeus still saying nothing, Poseidon gave in to the urge to fill the silence. To say anything. “I recently visited Hesperides and retrieved the child's hair. I think we can check to see if there is something amiss.”

  The dry gaze did not end.

  Paranoia pressed for the surface, shouting possibilities, but Poseidon did well to maintain an unruffled expression. This was a test. It had to be. One of the odd things Zeus loved to do now and then was to shatter Poseidon’s balance, make him cave and do something foolish. Like offering him Medusa’s hair. Why did he even do that? It was that damn silence, that's why.

  “I felt a disturbance,” Zeus finally said. “Retrieving the hair must have been troublesome.” He waved as he spoke, and the strand in Poseidon’s grip floated to his open palm.

  He felt a disturbance all the way from Olympus? Just how powerful had Zeus grown? Usually, every other deity’s power was capped, except in certain circumstances where Zeus may show magnanimity during the games. The generals were more favoured in this area depending on their exploits. But there were some outlier deities that the monolith simply twisted on its own whim. Take Hades and Phorcys' family, for example.

  “It was a simple stretch. Something to pump the blood.” Poseidon forced a laugh. The suffocating air remained. Like a massive hammer hovering, poised to smash his head.

  “Hmmm.” The hair strand burst into a soft green flame in Zeus’ palm, leaving nothing in its wake. “Who went wild? Phorcys or Rose?”

  This time, Poseidon's smile was a tad genuine. “Ceto.”

  “She finally did after so long. Always forgetful, that one.” A smile flashed and disappeared almost as fast.

  “What do you think?” His red gaze settled on Poseidon like crushing boulders.

  That sense of lurking danger returned, this time twice as heavy. Perhaps it was foolish of him to initially approach Zeus regarding Medusa. As much as it pained him to admit, Athena was right. Even if he held suspicions, he should have shared them with her first. Was getting his son even that important? His proclivity to pursue what stirred the most emotion had driven him to this moment; now, it seemed like Zeus’ attention on Phorcys’ brat may be bad for Athena’s plan.

  “About Ceto?”

  “About your claim.” Zeus frowned, the slight action cutting like razors. “What business does a sheltered child have to do with Drys Valon and the games? Is this a claim that Demeter kidnapped Athena’s tribute? Or that Phorcys and Ceto went against my judgement?” He stood smoothly and began descending the steps. “I need you to think carefully about your answer.” He counted with his fingers. “Demeter. Ares. Phorcys. Ceto. All generals. Are they of one mind against me? Did they conspire to challenge my judgement? To what end?”

  Poseidon swore internally. Athena may claim all the wisdom, but there had been a nagging from the moment he saw Ares visit Ceto. Something significant had shifted from the expected progression of things, but for the life of him, he couldn’t put a finger on it.

  Clenching his fists, he decided to double down on his claim. “I swear on everything I am. On the monolith, on all the years you’ve gifted me. I know what I saw that day in Drys Valon. That was Phorcys’ child—”

  “No need to weep about your truth, brother.” Now transformed to his youngest version, he stopped before Poseidon and sharply raised his hand.

  To Poseidon’s eternal shame, he flinched and shut his eyes. But the strike never came.

  “Why so tense?” Zeus patted his arm. “I summoned you to express my gratitude.”

  Poseidon cracked his eyes open, confused. “You did?”

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  The urge to put distance between them pressed, but he forced his feet to remain planted.

  “Yes, I must thank you, Poseidon. You revealed something I would not have otherwise noticed.”

  “Huh?” Even though the most rational of Zeus’ versions was ‘the child’, he was also the one Poseidon found most terrifying and impossible to predict. He always seemed to know too much and hid his intentions too tightly.

  Zeus motioned at the door. “Now that she is here, I shall reveal why I called you."

  Poseidon turned in time to see Athena rush in, eyes bright with rage. “Father, Stheno is gone!”

  Poseidon’s brow climbed up. That should be impossible; with the right ‘fuel’, there was none with Ambrosia in their blood that Athena couldn’t track. Zeus' response to her claim was even more unexpected.

  “Is that so?” Zeus asked dryly, not a hint of surprise showing on his face. Why was he acting like it didn't matter that one of House Phorcys had openly defied his verdict?

  “Father, what do we do?” In her grip was a glowing sword, and her aether flared in scalding pulses. “Give me permission to take the youngest now before Phorcys—”

  “It is as I expected.” Zeus nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Your dotting on this Medusa girl does not stem from your devotion to me.”

  The words were spoken so softly, but the implication stabbed like a knife.

  Fear, an emotion Poseidon had not felt since he could remember, arrested his senses. Could it be… no.

  Stop talking, he wanted to yell. Athena, seeming to notice her error, stumbled to retrace her steps with more useless words. “No, father. I am enraged at the disregard for—”

  “That’s enough.” Holding his hands at his back, he focused on Athena. “You will send your owls to give this announcement across Olympus and beyond. The games will be held in the first week of the Month of the Raven.”

  That was six months from now. Wasn't that too soon? An incredulous laugh escaped. Before Poseidon could apologise for daring such foolishness, Zeus was already looking at him, smiling even. But the action never touched his eyes.

  “As for why I summoned you. You shall be the Master of the Games.”

  What?

  The flare of Athena's aura dimmed as her blade clattered to the floor. “But… but you promised. You gave me that honour.”

  His focus slid in her direction, and he did not stop glowering until she fell to her knees. “I deeply apologise.”

  When Zeus finally spoke, his voice, though low and child-like, echoed unnaturally across the throne room. “Athena, shouldn’t you apologise for something else?”

  Ah, blood. He knows. Suddenly struck with the pressing urge to flee, Poseidon tightly gripped his hands at his back as he blinked repeatedly. This was indeed a judgement hearing. He called us here knowing everything.

  “Such a cleverly thought-out treachery." Zeus looked straight at Poseidon as he spoke. “So many interesting things were discovered in Athena’s Eastern temples.”

  Poseidon resisted the urge to gulp. Show nothing. Give nothing away. But he was sweating. Across his forehead. Down his back. Even his palms.

  “My temples?” Athena widened her eyes with feigned shock. She was excellent at pretence, but that was needless now. “What possibly—”

  “Ambition is good.” Zeus cut in. “The others were even impressed by this discovery. They wished for entertainment, to watch your wits bend and twist as you craft your subterfuge, but I am not as patient.”

  After a casual motion, the Desmyr summoned a portal and four girls, one of whom Poseidon instantly recognised, stumbled out.

  How? How did he find them? Poseidon didn’t even know there was more than one death priestess. His heart, an organ he mostly forgot existed, raced with relentless thumps of dawning horror.

  “I must thank you, Poseidon.” Zeus coldly smiled at him.

  Thank me for what? I didn’t reveal this? Did Zeus know he wasn’t the one who revealed Athena’s plans but still toyed with him anyway? Confusion and terror mixed, muddying his mind.

  “I never saw you as one bright enough to betray so… intelligently.”

  Lies! I never shared a thing with you. I didn't betray Athena.

  “Pleading that your treachery be hidden from my daughter,” he continued in an even voice. “But it had to be revealed. I apologise.”

  Athena was trembling now. Forehead touching the floor, lips pressed shut.

  “Four death priestesses.” Zeus nodded at the girls as if pleased, then he cocked his head. “What would my filial daughter need such an impressive number to achieve? Perhaps, chain me like I chained my progenitor?"

  She clasped her hands. Not a word passed her lips. Poseidon wished he could kick back and watch this humbling show, but terror held him by the throat.

  What was Zeus planning? Why lie that Poseidon revealed the plan to him? What was the point of making him the Master of the Games? Was this part of an elaborate punishment? He was always insidiously good at those.

  Or what if… what if this was the work of another enemy? What if Zeus genuinely believed Poseidon revealed the plan? He immediately discarded the idea. Zeus was above all, even chaining Death and tying the hands of Predestination. He must have found out on his own.

  “Do you have anything to say?”

  “I… I…” She stammered through harsh pants.

  Oh, Athena, is this how our bridge burns? Poseidon wanted to laugh, but he was also on a burning edge. Even if he attempts to reach out and explain that he hadn’t done this, she would never believe him.

  “All fault lies with me,” Zeus said as he stared at her with emotionless eyes. “I failed to discipline my child.”

  The kick was sudden and brutal. Athena shot at the high roof, slammed into an invisible barrier before crashing down. A face-first impact. Poseidon winced but did not look away. A shiver raced through him when he realised he could be next.

  “I stayed my hands for too long.” Zeus strolled over to where Athena lay, groaning. “Forgot to instil unwavering obedience.”

  A great bolt of lightning descended and struck Athena with ripping precision. Then more followed, crackling and flashing as she burned. She screamed at last, the raw cry vibrating the aether-rich air.

  The corner of Poseidon’s lips twitched as he watched, transfixed at the sight of her suffering.

  It is good that my heart is racing. When have I last felt so alive? I may be next, but it is still good.

  Or did he have to be the next? All he had to do was double down to the end. Vehemently deny involvement. After all, he never, not even once, physically added to Athena’s rebellion effort, only giving his word that he would do his part when she called.

  Yes, even if Zeus confronts him, he would deny any part in Athena’s treachery or in revealing it. Mind made up, Poseidon relaxed a little.

  “All you have amassed for your little rebellion.” Zeus glared down at her. “You shall surrender them all, good daughter.”

  A groan. “Please. Mercy, father.”

  The skin of Zeus’ forehead swelled and peeled away to reveal a polished opal in a marquise cut. Another energy Poseidon could sense, but never harness, pushed aether away like an unworthy opponent. It pressed around him, seeming to reach for his soul.

  “Every dot, every letter in your laughable treachery.” The key gleamed in his forehead. “I saw them all. Even the thoughts in your small, rebellious mind are naked before me.”

  More lies. He can't see my thoughts. The key gives him no such power. Poseidon repeated the words over and over, denying the notion with everything in him, even as terror breathed life into the possibility.

  “Nothing is hidden from my sight.”

  A casual wave, and Athena’s arm twisted with a crack. Poseidon gulped. The aether control it took to manage such a vicious attack on one so strong. Her other arm twisted as well, and her back curved like a bow to expose her red, weeping face.

  Poseidon pressed a fist against his mouth, trapping a laugh. Never in his long existence had he witnessed Athena in such a state. Only Zeus knew how to pull out the weak little mortal hiding in them all.

  She stiffened as bolt after bolt of lightning wracked her body. All through the assault, Zeus watched closely as if searching for something.

  “Father… I beg you,” she managed to whisper past burning lips.

  “Save your begging.” He patted her cheek. An eye exploded and immediately began regenerating. “Only after we speak heart to heart, shall I forgive you.”

  He let his hand drop. “And be patient with me. You know I never treat you like the rest.”

  As he spoke, a smooth, black seed the size of a pebble appeared between his fingers. He held it up as if observing it in the light. “Today will be very long, my child. And you.”

  He glanced at Poseidon, freezing him to the spot. “You shall remain a silent observer. Engrave every moment in that loyal mind of yours, yes?”

  Poseidon nodded tightly, unable to find his voice.

  “Good.” Focusing on Athena once more, he pried her jaw open and jammed the seed down her throat. “Do well not to fight the thistles.”