“I wasn’t the f irst,” I said. “Eleven girls were tested before me over the past century. Calliope killed them before they had a chance, and—”
“Hera would never do that,” interrupted Persephone.
“Maybe if it was Zeus, but—”
“She’s in love with Henry,” I said. “After you left, she thought she’d have a chance, but he didn’t want to be with her, so she killed off the competition.” Persephone sniffed. “You survived. You must be something special. I bet Henry’s just cooing over you.” Maybe it was the way she said his name or the sarcasm dripping from her voice, but something inside of me snapped. This was impossible. I wasn’t going to stand around all day explaining everything to her when she wasn’t listening. I would never understand why Henry loved her so much, and if she couldn’t show me basic courtesy, I wasn’t going to bother, either.
“He’s only with me because I’m your sister,” I said hotly.
“Diana—Demeter, she’s my mother. She decided to have me in a last-ditch effort to save Henry because she felt so damn guilty for what you did to him, and she didn’t want to be responsible for him fading. He married me because he couldn’t have you, and I was the next best thing. Thanks for rubbing my nose in it.”
The words were out before I could stop them, but there was no taking them back now. Besides, it was the truth.
Tiptoeing around it and acting like she had nothing to do with me being born would’ve been stupid.
I was born to be another incarnation of her, to be the version of her that even she couldn’t be, but now that I was standing in front of her, I knew I would never come close.
She was beautiful and graceful and put the f lowers around us to shame, but at the same time, she was willing to hurt the people who loved her for the sake of her own happiness.
I wasn’t Persephone, and for the f irst time since meeting Henry over a year ago, I f inally realized that was a good thing. I was the one who could want Adonis and say no.
Overwhelming silence f illed the cottage. Persephone stared at me, her eyes burning with something I couldn’t identify, but I knew it wasn’t good. She didn’t have to tell me to leave. I turned on my heel and walked out the door.
The breeze blew through the meadow, and when I took a deep breath, the smell of freesia f illed me, but I was too far gone to care. Anger boiled away any sympathy I’d had for Persephone, and I didn’t care if she was my sister. I’d never had a sister before, and there was no need to change that now.
I heard the door swing open again and footsteps against the dirt as someone came after me. I kept going.
“Kate,” said Ava. “Kate, stop.”
I was halfway to the trees when she grabbed my arm. I whirled around, ready to lay into her, but the words formed a lump in my throat.
“You know that isn’t true,” she said softly. “Henry didn’t marry you because you were Persephone’s sister.” I tried to speak again, but all that came out was a choked sob, and my cheeks burned from humiliation. I’d barely spent f ive minutes with her, and already she’d reduced me to this.
“She—she’s the only reason I got the chance in the f irst place,” I blubbered. “And love was never part of the deal.
All I had to do to marry him was pass, and—and that’s all I did.”
Ava hugged me, and I buried my face in her shoulder, struggling not to cry more than I already was. Now that the dam had burst, however, I couldn’t stop. All of the worries and tension I’d kept bottled inside me since arriving in the Underworld came spilling out, and wave after wave of sobs assaulted me, stealing every last shred of dignity I had left.
I hadn’t signed up for this. I didn’t want to face my sister and all of the painful truths that came along with her. Even with the cancer, I’d been happy in New York with my mother, when I hadn’t known I’d been her second child, a replacement for the daughter who hadn’t been perfect.
Now, all her hopes and expectations weighed heavily on my shoulders, and my resolve cracked.
I didn’t want to be married out of duty or an arrangement. I loved Henry. Maybe it wasn’t the sort of endless, eternal love poets wrote about and musicians sang about, but he made me stronger, made me happy, and knowing he was in my life—he’d saved me, in more ways than one.
And when he was with me, everything felt right. It felt real.
And eventually we could get there if he would give me a chance. Instead he wanted to keep me at arm’s length, and all the while I suffered, knowing I wasn’t good enough for him to love me back. Knowing I wasn’t Persephone.
It wasn’t such a good thing when I thought about it that way.
Someone cleared their throat behind Ava, and I looked up, recognizing James’s blurry face through my tears.
“Is everything okay?” he said, sounding like he didn’t want to be here. I didn’t blame him. I didn’t want to be here, either.
I shook my head and sniffed, wiping my face with the sleeve of my sweater. “Sorry. I just— I can’t, not if she’s going to be like that. It’s bad enough already, needing her and asking for her help. I can’t take her acting like this, too.”
“You’re no prize yourself,” said Persephone from behind James, and I stiffened. Ava placed herself between us, and I could’ve sworn I heard her hiss.
James held out his arms, as if he expected them to hurl themselves at one another and rip each other’s hair out.
“Enough, both of you. All three of you. None of us wants to do this, but it doesn’t matter what we want, because if we don’t, Cronus and Calliope will win.” I stared at the wildf lowers at my feet. I’d accidentally crushed one with the heel of my shoe, and I gingerly lifted my leg, as if being gentle now could bring it back to life. It wasn’t until disappointment shot through me that I realized I was looking for one of Henry’s f lowers. So he could be with me everywhere else, but not here. Not with Persephone.
Persephone batted James’s hand aside before moving closer. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice echoing through the meadow. “Not for what I said, but for what you’re going through. James explained it.”
Of course he had. My chest tightened as another wave of sobs advanced, and I clenched my jaw in an attempt to keep it at bay. “It’s f ine. You didn’t mean for it to happen.” Ava stepped beside me and took my hand, and that was all I needed to feel even more like an idiot than I already did. Cronus could kill us all, and here I was breaking down over something no one could help.
“I’m sure Mother didn’t mean to make you feel that way, either,” said Persephone. “Everything she did, arranging my marriage to Hades, it was all for me and my best interests.
It wasn’t her fault when it didn’t work out.” No, it wasn’t, but it seemed crass to agree with her aloud.
James was right though. Fighting like this and letting jealousy get in the way wasn’t going to f ix anything. It didn’t matter how I felt about Persephone, or even how she felt about me. What mattered was doing something about Cronus and rescuing the others.
It took every ounce of willpower I had to swallow my pride. “Please, we need your help,” I said. “I know you haven’t had anything to do with this for a long time, but Mom and Henry and—and Walter and everyone, all the rest of the original six, Cronus and Calliope kidnapped them. She’s trying to f igure out how to open the gate that’s keeping Cronus inside, and—”
“And what?” said Persephone, and I got some small amount of satisfaction from seeing her face drain of all color. Removed from the council or not, at least she still seemed to care about them. “How could I possibly help?”
“You know where the gate is,” said James.
Persephone reached behind her, and Adonis was there in an instant, as if he’d appeared out of thin air. “You want me to take you there?” she said incredulously. “There’s a reason you can’t f ind it, James. There’s a reason no one but Hades and I knew where it was. I wasn’t even supposed to know—he only told me in case anything
happened to him.”
“Something has happened to him,” I said. “And if we don’t get there before Cronus decides keeping them around isn’t worth it, he could kill them or worse.” Persephone shook her head, and Adonis wrapped his arms around her again, burying his face in her hair. “You came all this way to ask me if I could take you on a suicide mission?” she said. “You can’t face Cronus. He’ll kill you.” I exchanged a look with James, and he gave me a small nod. “We’ve already faced him,” I said. “I think—I think he’ll leave us alone, at least until we get there.”
“Until we get there?” said Persephone, a hint of panic in her voice. “What do you mean, until we get there?”
“He’s awake enough to slip a portion of himself out, and he can attack from inside Tartarus,” said James. “He attacked the palace before Kate was crowned, and that was when the brothers went after him.”
“He came after us on our way here,” I added. “But I made a deal with him, and I don’t think he’ll attack us.” Her eyes narrowed, but at least she didn’t ask what kind of deal. “You mean you came here knowing that a damn Titan with a score to settle could easily follow you, and those weren’t the f irst words out of your mouth? You led him straight to us?”
“He hasn’t attacked us since Kate made her deal with him,” said James. “You’re safe.”
Persephone slipped out of Adonis’s arms and started to pace. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you? If I come with you, he might destroy me. If I don’t, he knows where I am now, and he knows I’m the only one other than Henry who knows how to f ind Tartarus, so he might decide to get rid of me anyway.”
“Why would Cronus do that?” I snapped, my irritation returning full force. This was too important for her to act like she was the only person in the universe. “He wants to open the gate, and Calliope has no idea how. He doesn’t stand a chance unless we get there. As long as you’re with us, you’re safe.”
Persephone scowled, and she looked up at Adonis, who hadn’t said a word. He nodded encouragingly, and her frown deepened. “You swear he has no reason to come after us?”
“Kate’s telling the truth,” said James. “If Cronus didn’t want us there, he would have killed us a long time ago.” Persephone seemed to consider this, and f inally she stalked back toward the cottage. “Fine,” she called, and Adonis trotted after her. “But I swear to you, if anything happens to me or Adonis, I’ll—”
What she would do, we didn’t get the chance to f ind out.
She slammed the front door shut, inches from Adonis’s nose, but he didn’t protest. No wonder Persephone loved it here with him so much. He put up with her.
“So what, does she expect us to go after her?” said Ava hotly. “Because if that’s the case, then we can f ind it on our own. I am not groveling to anyone, especially not her.”
“She said she’d come,” said James. “Patience.” Sure enough, a few minutes later Persephone stormed back out of the cottage. She paused long enough to give Adonis a deep kiss, and I turned away to give them some privacy. I wanted badly to be able to kiss Henry like that someday, or better yet, to have him kiss me like that and to know he meant it. But the closer we got to Cronus, the slimmer the chances of that ever happening became.
“Let’s go,” said Persephone, and she trudged through the meadow, slinging a canvas satchel over her shoulder. “It’s a long walk, but I know a shortcut.”
James gestured for her to lead the way, and the three of us followed. Ava trailed in a huff, still sulking about the whole thing, and I offered her my hand. None of us said a word, and with luck, it would stay that way until we reached the gate.
We’d been walking less than f ifteen minutes when the bickering began.
It started off innocently enough. James, who seemed strangely withdrawn, but determined to be polite, asked Persephone about how she and Adonis were doing, and for a moment Persephone actually smiled.
“We’re good,” she said. “Really good. You’d think as long as it’s been, it would get monotonous, but I guess that’s the beauty of this place. Everything’s so happy, and we haven’t gotten bored of each other yet.” Ava snorted. “That’s a miracle,” she muttered under her breath. I gave her hand a warning squeeze.
“If you have something to say, just say it,” said Persephone. “We all know you’re jealous because Adonis chose me over you, but—”
Ava let out a strangled laugh. “He chose you over me? Is that a joke?” She shook her head in disbelief. “Daddy made me let you have him.”
I sighed. It was like what had happened at Eden Manor all over again, except this time Ava had gone after Persephone’s boyfriend instead of Ella’s brother. The result would be the same though; hours upon hours of f ighting and the cold shoulder, and I would be stuck in the middle. At least this time James was here to help.
They argued about that for another hour or so, and eventually I let go of Ava’s hand and tucked myself into James’s embrace instead. He couldn’t block out their rants and name-calling, but the weight of his arm over my shoulders helped remind me that there was something more important going on right now than which goddess Adonis had loved more.
“Is this why you thought Ava shouldn’t come?” I said softly, and James nodded.
“You should’ve seen it when Persephone came to the council to ask for permission to become mortal for him,” he whispered. “It was a bloodbath. Ava refused to give Persephone her consent even though the rest of us had agreed, so eventually Walter overruled her. He’d never done that before, and he hasn’t done it since.” Even Calliope, as much as she hated me, had agreed to granting me immortality. I pressed my ear against his shoulder to drown out the two of them. It worked marginally, but Ava’s shrill voice dragged me back into the mess.
“What do you think, James?” she said snidely. “Who’s a better lover, me or Persephone?”
My eyes widened, and I stepped away from James, letting his arm fall to his side. He turned scarlet and shoved his hands in his pockets, and then—
Pain exploded in my head, and I cried out, stumbling to my knees. The forest fell away, and I plunged into blackness.
Despite my panic, I knew what to expect. I was still conscious, and when I opened my eyes, I was no longer in Persephone’s Eden. Instead I was back in Cronus’s cavern, and Calliope stood in front of me, once again staring right through me.
“I will kill her,” she snarled. “I will rip her body into little pieces and force you to watch.”
Startled, I whirled around to see who she was talking to, and when I saw a pair of eyes the color of moonlight staring back at me, my blood ran cold.
Henry was awake.
CH APTER NINE
TIES TH AT BIND
A cut ran down his cheek, dripping blood onto the collar of his black shirt, but at least Henry was alive. Behind him, my mother and Sof ia were chained to Walter and Phillip, the four of them unconscious. I gingerly stepped around Henry, worried he might be able to feel me. His hands were chained behind his back. He struggled against them, but the metal links were infused with fog.
“You have one more chance,” said Calliope, and she closed the distance between them. To his credit, he didn’t back away. “Tell me how to open it, or the next time you see Kate, she’ll be in pieces.”
Henry tugged at the chains again, but his blank expression didn’t change. Calliope sneered and abruptly spun toward the fog that swirled around the gate.
“I want you to f ind her and kill her,” she said in a high, grating voice. There was no mistaking the command in her words. The cavern rumbled with vicious laughter, and Calliope’s fervor wavered. Apparently Cronus didn’t like being ordered around.
I glanced at Henry and saw a ghost of a smile on his lips.
Did he know I was there, or did he, too, know how futile it was for Calliope to boss around a Titan?
“I said go out and f ind her,” she snarled, but Cronus made no move to leave. The fog threaded through th
e bars of the gate, and I wondered why they were there anyway when he could still get out. Maybe not all of him, but he’d already proven that the fog was enough to do more damage than the council could handle.
With a huff, she turned and faced Henry again, and even I managed to crack a smile. She looked like a spoiled toddler who hadn’t gotten her way no matter how many tantrums she’d thrown.
“I’ll do it myself, then,” she said with a sniff, and Henry’s smile vanished. “They’re on their way right now, and once she gets here, I’ll make sure you’re awake to see what I do to her. You won’t want to miss it.”
With a wave of her hand, she sent Henry f lying back toward the mouth of the cave where the others were chained.
He hit the wall hard, sending a shower of rocks into his lap, and his head slumped forward.
I dashed toward him and tried in vain to move his hair aside so I could see if his eyes were still open, but I was a ghost. Calliope wouldn’t kill him. She couldn’t. She wanted him alive to watch me die, and she wouldn’t deny herself the pleasure of seeing him in pain like that. Of seeing me in pain.
The cavern turned to black once more, and when I came to, three pairs of eyes peered down at me. Ava and James were used to it, but even Persephone didn’t look startled.
Maybe they’d explained it to her while I was out.
“What did you see?” said Ava eagerly.
I pushed myself onto my elbows and rubbed my throbbing head. “Calliope’s trying to get Henry to tell her how to open the gate. He isn’t,” I added when Ava’s eyes widened. “He didn’t say a word. She got frustrated and knocked him out again.”
“Good,” said Persephone. “He won’t tell her. He knows better than to risk it.”