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.
“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
