by Aimee Carter
He smiled grimly and opened his arms. I didn’t think. I went to him, burying my face in his chest and inhaling, but he smelled like nothing. He wasn’t here either. I could touch him, though. I could feel his silk shirt and the heat radiating from his body.
How?
“I’ve missed you,” he murmured, brushing his lips against my cheek. When I tried to turn my head to kiss him properly, he pulled away, just out of reach. Rejection and doubt washed over me. Was he angry I’d gotten caught? That I couldn’t save him? Did he know about my plans to give myself up to Cronus in exchange for his life?
When I followed his gaze, however, I relaxed. Milo.
I tucked myself underneath his arm, and together we approached the cradle. When the baby saw us, he reached for us. For me. And a piece of my heart melted.
Henry reached for him in return, and before I could warn him that it wouldn’t work, his fingers made contact with Milo’s. Not lingering in the unoccupied space beside him or hovering a millimeter above his skin and pretending.
He was really touching our son.
“Hello, little man,” said Henry solemnly. “I heard you have not been eating.”
Producing a bottle seemingly out of nowhere, Henry let go of me and picked Milo up. I stood back, stunned, as Henry offered him the milk. Several seconds passed, and at last Milo began to eat.
“How—” A wave of dizziness washed over me. This couldn’t be happening, not unless he was dead or—or something I didn’t understand. “How is this possible?”
Sometimes we misjudge what is possible and what is not.
Henry’s voice rang in my head, clear as anything, and I waited for him to say those words again. To insist that just because I didn’t know how it worked didn’t stop it from happening.
Instead he smiled, and Milo ate greedily. “Because it is. What more of an explanation do you need?”
I wanted to know everything. I wanted to know how to save him, how to put our family back together, how to stop Cronus and Calliope from taking over the world. But at that moment, I only needed to hear one thing. “Will you stay with him?”
In his arms, Milo gurgled, and I tried to touch him once more. Nothing. “Of course,” said Henry, and he pressed his lips to my forehead. “Always.”
I opened my eyes, more content and relaxed than I’d been since the winter solstice. Despite the bright blue sky above me, this place—whatever it was, wherever it was—was quiet. My mother hadn’t left me alone since I’d returned from Calliope’s castle, but glancing around, I noticed her empty chair.
Finally, the chance I’d been waiting for.
Swinging my legs out of bed, I tested the sunset floor. It was warmer than I expected, and while my arm burned, my mother had been right; nothing else hurt. Whatever was in that compress had stopped the agony of the dagger wound from spreading.
While I’d been unconscious, someone—hopefully my mother and not James—had dressed me in a white silk nightgown, so smooth it might as well have been water against my skin. I took a few tentative steps, and once I was sure I wasn’t going to collapse, I headed for the door. I had no idea where I was, but I wanted to see Henry. I had to make sure he wasn’t dead. That my vision hadn’t been his last goodbye to me. To our son.
No. He’d promised to stay with Milo, and he would. Gods didn’t turn into corporeal ghosts when they died, or at least I thought they didn’t. Had a god as powerful as Henry ever died before?
I opened the bedroom door to reveal a corridor on the other side, with the same blue ceiling and sunset floor. The colors underneath my feet changed as I walked, and I had to tear my eyes away to check the various doors that stood some twenty feet apart through the hallway.
Empty bedroom after empty bedroom. Some were plain, like mine, but others were decorated—one with light blue accents and white silk that matched my nightgown, and another with deep greens and bright flowers growing everywhere. It looked exactly like the sort of bedroom my mother might have if she’d—
Wait.
I pushed the door open wider. It wasn’t just a bedroom; it was a suite, with several other doors decorating the walls, far more than space allowed with the other rooms surrounding it. I inched forward toward the nightstand, where a picture stood.
No, not a picture—a reflection, like the one Henry had had of Persephone in Eden Manor, one that captured a moment, not a still photograph. With a trembling hand, I picked up the wooden frame and stared at it. My mother and I stared back.
We were laughing in the middle of Central Park. I didn’t need to see the cupcakes or the mess that remained of our picnic to know what it was.
It was the reflection Henry had given me our first and only Christmas together.
“Kate?”
The frame slipped from my hand, and the glass shattered as it hit the ground. I swore and bent to pick it up. “Mom, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s all right,” she said, kneeling beside me, and she waved my hand away. “What are you doing out of bed?”
I stood as the glass repaired itself under her guidance. How long would it take me to learn how to control my powers that way? I’d tried to figure out what I was capable of while Calliope had held me captive, but without someone to teach me, the best I’d managed was controlling my visions. “I want to see Henry.”
“Fair enough.” My mother straightened and set the newly repaired frame back on her nightstand. And it was her nightstand; I was sure about that now. This was her suite. This was her home.
This was Olympus.
“Do you mind taking a side trip with me before we go see him?” said my mother, wrapping her arm around my shoulders.
“What? Why?” I blurted. “I want to see Henry, Mom. He was in my vision, and he held Milo and got him to eat and everything.”
Her brow furrowed, but instead of telling me I was crazy or that it was my imagination, she said gently, “We can talk about it later, sweetheart. Walter’s called an emergency council meeting, and I was just on my way to fetch you.”
To fetch me? What could I possibly help the council with? I’d only been immortal for a year and a half. That was nothing compared to the rest of the council, some of whom were older than the dawn of humanity. Like my mother. Like Henry. Like each of the original six siblings—five now that Calliope had abandoned them. Four now that Henry was lost in a world between the living and the dead. “What happened?”
My mother hesitated, and taking my good arm, she guided me to the door. “I don’t want to worry you, but...”
“But what?” My insides seized. Had the worst happened? Were Henry or Milo dead? “Mom—but what?”
Her eyes flickered shut. “It’s Cronus,” she said, her voice cracking. “He’s declared war.”
Chapter 4
The Council Divided
Only half the council showed.
Irene, my tutor during my time in Eden, wept while Sofia, my mother’s home care nurse and another of the original six, tried to comfort her. On the opposite side of the circle, Walter and Phillip, Henry’s brothers, sat with their heads bent together, and they spoke quietly. James and Dylan, Ava’s boyfriend from Eden High, remained silent on their respective thrones.
No one else showed.
“Where is everyone?” I whispered to my mother, though in the endless room, my voice carried.
“Some have chosen not to join us. We will not begrudge them that.” She sat down and gestured for me to take a seat beside her, in the throne made of white diamond straight from the Underworld. Persephone’s.
I hesitated. I’d sat there a few times in Henry’s palace, but I’d assumed it was there because it was his realm. Was it simply a place for me to sit, or did this mean I was a member of the council now? Despite the honor, the thought of having that kind of responsibility—that kind of control over the lives of others made me sick to my stomach. But if they trusted me enough to make me one of them, then I would do everything I could to help.
&
nbsp; “We’re waiting for you, dear,” said my mother, and I forced myself to snap out of it. Perching on the edge of the chair, I cradled my arm to my chest and waited. I knew why Nicholas wasn’t there, of course, since Calliope was holding him hostage. Ava was helping her—to save Nicholas, I realized, but that didn’t make it easier to stomach her betrayal. And Henry...
They all had excuses for not being there, and after Ella had lost her arm the day Cronus escaped from the Underworld, I didn’t blame her for not wanting to be part of it either. But what about Theo? What about Xander? The council without Calliope had argued and been at odds, but no one had flat-out abandoned their position.
Walter stood and cleared his throat. He looked older somehow, despite his agelessness. His shoulders slumped underneath the burden of everything that had happened, and beside him, Phillip, usually so gruff and impermeable, didn’t look much better. “Brother and sisters, sons and daughters...”
Daughters? Only Irene was his daughter. Sofia and my mother were his sisters. Unless he meant me, too.
No. It was a slip of the tongue, nothing more. Because if he did mean me, too, then why hadn’t anyone ever—
“It saddens me greatly to report that Athens has fallen.”
All my questions about my father flew out of my head. Athens had fallen? Irene sobbed, and Sofia hugged her, rubbing her back and murmuring words of comfort I couldn’t make out. Bewildered, I looked from them to Walter. How could Athens fall? This wasn’t ancient Greece—what did that even mean?
“How?” said my mother. “Why? We have no army there. No soldiers to threaten Cronus’s hold over the Aegean Sea. Why would he attack unprovoked?”
It wasn’t unprovoked, though. Cronus had promised no one would die as long as I stayed by his side, and now I’d abandoned him. My hands began to tremble, and I shoved them between my knees. Across the circle, Walter’s eyes met mine. He knew.
“We cannot pretend to understand how Cronus thinks,” he said, and a rush of guilt-laced gratitude overwhelmed me. He wasn’t going to tell.
“As for how he attacked,” said Phillip, rising to stand beside his brother, “he used my domain. It was a calculated attack with Athens pinpointed specifically—no other area was touched. However, the damage he did...”
Irene cried even harder, and Phillip raised his voice so we could all hear him.
“The tidal wave washed nearly everything away.”
My body went cold, and the golden room spun around me until I couldn’t stand it any longer. “Did—did anyone die?” I whispered.
Walter said nothing for a moment, and I thought I saw a spark of compassion pass over his face. “Yes. Nearly a million people lost their lives.”
Something twisted inside me, sharp and unforgiving, and if I could have thrown up, I would have. Nearly a million people were dead because of me, because I’d lied to Cronus. I’d known there would be consequences, yet I’d done it anyway.
No, I hadn’t known it would be anything like this. This wasn’t war between two equal opponents; this was a massacre of people who didn’t even know that gods and Titans were real.
“A purely symbolic attack then,” said Dylan, his brow furrowed. A three-dimensional map of Greece appeared in the center of the circle, complete with mountains, islands and seas, all to scale and colored exactly like they would be if this were an aerial shot. For all I knew, it was.
The map zoomed toward Athens until the damage was visible. During my first summer away from Henry, James and I had visited Greece, and we’d spent weeks in the city. My memories of paved streets, kind people and the modern nestled alongside the ancient might as well have been a dream.
Nothing was left. Debris and mud replaced what had once been a vibrant city, now washed out to sea. Tears slid down my face, and I wasn’t the only one crying. Beside me, my mother slipped her hand into mine, and even James’s eyes grew red.
Athens was really gone.
“Look,” said Irene suddenly, her voice thick. “Closer.”
The map zoomed in, and I averted my eyes. I couldn’t see the bodies, if there were any left to begin with. I couldn’t see the faces of those who were dead because of me.
“The Parthenon,” said Irene. “He left it standing.”
I cracked open an eye. The temple of Athena—of Irene—remained standing, untouched except for the ravages of time and history.
“A message?” said James, leaning forward.
“I cannot say,” said Walter gravely. “Perhaps he has a small amount of respect for all we have done for the world.”
“Or maybe it means he’ll keep us alive if we don’t stand in his way,” said Irene, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.
“We must not fall victim to the belief that removing ourselves from this war will prevent it from happening,” said Walter with surprising gentleness. “He intends on killing us—all of us—for keeping him locked in Tartarus. Humanity is nothing to him, but he will not hesitate to wipe them out as well, knowing our existence is now linked to theirs. We have no choice but to fight until it is over.”
“One way or the other,” whispered Irene.
Walter nodded. “One way or the other.”
“Isn’t there something we can do?” The words were out before I could stop them, and each council member focused on me. “Cronus must want something.”
“You know what he wants,” said Walter, and my cheeks burned. Yes. He wanted me.
“We all know what he wants,” cut in Dylan. “Death. Destruction. Mayhem. War. To rule the world once more. Usually I’d approve, but not when we’re the targets.”
“So what do we plan to do about it?” said James. “Let him get away with this?”
“I have already called a meeting among my subjects,” said Phillip. “They know not to bow to his will no matter the cost.”
“Cronus has more power than all of us combined,” said Irene, a determined edge in her voice now. “We cannot fight back as we are and expect to achieve any measure of success.”
“What about the other gods?” said James. “They could help.”
“They have nearly all signed a petition insisting they will not,” said Walter. “Besides, they could all join us and put everything they have into this war, but it would still not be sufficient. They are not powerful enough to make up for the loss of Henry and Calliope.”
I gritted my teeth. Henry wasn’t dead yet. “I could talk to Cronus,” I said. “He—he was nice to me. He might listen.”
“No,” said my mother. “Even if you did have that sort of hold over him, he will stop at nothing until he has what he wants. He has waited and planned for eons. You will not change his mind no matter how fond of you he might be.”
Across the circle, James focused on me. I ignored the question in his stare and concentrated on the floating image between us instead. “It could work,” I said.
“That is a risk we cannot take,” said Walter. “Calliope has already proven she will kill you if given the opportunity, and Cronus may not be willing to protect you any longer. No, we must focus our efforts on coming up with a way to even our odds despite our missing members.”
Frustration, hot and unyielding, rose inside me. Of course they would invite me to join them only to dismiss every idea I had. What else did I expect? “What about Rhea?” I said. It felt like years since I’d decided to leave the Underworld to ask for her help. She was the only one who could match Cronus in power, and if anyone could win this war, it was her. “What did she say?”
Silence. Walter and Phillip exchanged an uneasy look, and finally James piped up. “No one’s tried to find her.”
“What? Why not?”
“We did not know you were not—” started Walter, but my mother cut in.
“Most of us did not know Kate was not searching for her,” she corrected, fire in her eyes. Walter’s lips thinned underneath her stare.
“Yes. Most of us did not know you were not already searching for her.”
&n
bsp; Right. That moment between Henry and Walter in the office. Henry had hinted Walter may have known what was going on. “And that entire time, you didn’t stop to think it might be a good idea to send someone else instead?” I said.
Walter cleared his throat. “Our efforts were focused on trying to stop the impending war, not escalate it.”
“Oh, yeah? How did that turn out?” I said, and my mother squeezed my hand, a silent command to stop talking.
This was my fault though, every last bit of it. I’d won immortality and stolen Henry from Calliope, or at least that was how she saw it. My stupid mistake had forced Henry to release Cronus from Tartarus in the first place. Now, because I’d left Cronus, nearly a million people were dead, and more would undoubtedly follow.
No, I wasn’t going to shut up.
“While the rest of you flounder and try to figure out what to do, I’m going to find her,” I said. “And I’m going to get her to help us.”
I expected an argument, but instead the council was silent. “It’s our greatest chance at obtaining a powerful ally,” said Sofia after a long moment. “We can’t hope to sway Calliope back to our side, and without a balance of power, more cities will crumble, and more people will die. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m willing to try anything that might bring us peace.”
Walter sighed wearily. “Very well. If you are able to convince Rhea to assist us in containing Cronus, then you will do us a great service, Kate.”
And possibly prevent millions—maybe even billions—of people from dying. Yeah. No question. “I’ll do it.”
“I’ll go with her,” said James. Our eyes met again, and this time I didn’t look away. “Like it or not, I’m the only one who can find her, so don’t argue.”
“I wasn’t going to,” I said. “I trust you.” If there was one person I knew wouldn’t betray me, it was James. He had nothing in this fight except his own survival, and his ability to find anyone meant we wouldn’t waste time searching for Rhea. He would know exactly where she was.
