Henry turned us around so we faced the council, and he nodded once in greeting. I did the same and tried to focus straight ahead, sure that if I caught anyone’s eye, my nerves would get the best of me, but eventually I had to look.
My mother sat in the center, her back ramrod-straight and her eyes shining as she watched. James sat on the very end, and from the way he slouched in his chair, I knew he didn’t want to be there. I didn’t blame him.
Everyone else seemed at least moderately interested, but before I could take it in, Henry faced me and held out his hands palms-up. I hesitated, but he gave me an encouraging nod, and I shakily set my hands over his.
“Kate.” He spoke in a normal voice, but it reverberated through the room, amplif ied by Henry’s power or the structure of the hall or both. “As my wife, you have consented to take up the responsibilities of the Queen of the Underworld. You shall rule fairly and without bias over the souls of those who have departed the world above, and from autumnal equinox to spring of every year hence, you shall devote yourself to the task of guiding those who are lost and protecting all from harm beyond their eternal lives.” I couldn’t even convince Henry not to go off on suicide missions. How was I supposed to help protect every single soul in this place?
Henry’s hands grew strangely warm. A warm yellow light glowed between ours, and I bit the inside of my cheek, barely able to stop myself from pulling away. It would take me more than a few hours to get used to that sort of casual show of power.
“Do you accept the role of Queen of the Underworld, and do you agree to uphold the responsibilities and expectations of such?” said Henry.
I hesitated. This wasn’t for a year or f ive or even ten; this was forever. I hadn’t even decided what I wanted to major in during college, let alone what I’d wanted to do with the rest of my life, but here Henry was, giving me a choice.
And for a fraction of a second, his gaze met mine, and I saw my Henry underneath the distant god in front of me. His moonlight eyes sparkled, the corners of his lips twitched upward into the faintest of smiles and he seemed to glow with warmth from the inside out. He was looking at me like he had back in Eden, like I was the only person in the world, and in that moment, I would’ve torn apart heaven and hell to make sure I never lost him.
But then he disappeared back into himself, behind the mask he wore to protect the side of him that Persephone had ripped to shreds, and reality crashed down around me.
It wasn’t a real choice, was it? Everything I’d done since moving to Eden had been leading up to this moment.
Henry hadn’t married me out of love, and I’d known that from the beginning. He’d married me because I had passed the tests no one else had passed, and because the council had granted me immortality. I was the only girl who had lived long enough to become his queen. What if he stayed like this for the rest of eternity? What if all I ever was to him was a friend and a partner? The way he’d been in Eden, how he’d talked to me until the small hours of the morning, how he’d seen me in a way no one else had, how he’d risked his own existence to save mine—what if I never saw that side of him again?
Then again, what if this was the proof he needed that I wasn’t going to leave him? What if this was the f inal push to show him that it was safe to fall in love with me completely?
I swallowed. I’d already made my decision the moment I’d married him. I loved him, and walking away and letting him fade wasn’t an option, no matter what it cost me.
I could do this. I had to do this. For Henry’s sake—for my mother’s sake. For my sake. Because in the end, without Henry, I didn’t know who I was anymore, and every night during my summer in Greece, I’d gone to sleep dreaming about what it would be like to spend the rest of my existence loving him and being loved in return. As long as I gave him a chance, this could be everything I hoped it would be. Henry was worth the risk.
As I opened my mouth to say yes, a crash shattered the silence, and the tall windows exploded, sending shards of glass hurtling straight toward us.
CH A P T ER FOU R
THE TITA NS
As glass f lew through the air, I covered my head instinctively, but the jagged edges glanced off my skin as if I were made of Kevlar.
Right. Immortal. I kept forgetting that part.
“What the—” I twisted around to survey the damage, but before I could get a good look, Henry pushed me behind him. I fell to the ground amidst the shards of glass, and while I scrambled to my feet, Henry and his brothers advanced toward the broken windows.
Ava appeared beside me and took my elbow. “Come on,” she said in a trembling voice as her face turned ashen. “We have to get out of here.”
“Why?” I said, but a sick sense of dread f illed me as I stumbled along beside her. The others parted to let us through, each poised as if ready to strike. No matter how reluctant they were to talk about her, I knew this had to do with Calliope and the fresh scar running down Henry’s chest.
Ava didn’t answer me. She all but dragged me along the aisle, my heels skidding against the f loor as I tried to regain my balance, but it wasn’t working.
I fell a second time, pulling Ava down with me. We landed in a heap, but she wasted no time hauling me to my feet again. As we scrambled forward, another crash echoed through the hall, and a shimmering fog seeped into the palace. The same fog from my vision.
In the past few hours, it seemed to have grown stronger.
It crackled with strange tendrils of light, and for a moment, the fog hovered in front of Henry, as if recognizing him.
Henry held up his hands again, exactly as he’d done in my vision, and the other members of the council formed a semicircle behind him and his brothers.
My heart hammered against my rib cage, and beside me, Ava froze. This was the thing that had nearly killed Henry, and now it was attacking all of us. The instinct to protect rose up inside of me as it drew closer to Henry and my mother and everyone I loved, but what could I possibly do to help stop it?
Without warning, it sliced through the air faster than the members of the council could control it, but it wasn’t aimed at Henry or Walter or Phillip.
It went directly for me and Ava.
I didn’t have time to think. Shoving Ava behind the nearest pillar, I darted after her, but not fast enough.
Unbelievable pain whipped my knee like lightning, shooting through my body until it surrounded me, puls-ing with each beat of my heart. I cried out, and it was all I could do to stay standing.
“Ava,” I gasped, leaning against the pillar as shouts from the council echoed through the hall. “Get out of here.” She stared at me uncomprehendingly. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I took her arm and forced myself forward, half limping, half hopping toward the exit. A trail of blood smeared across the f loor behind me, but the fog didn’t try to strike again.
Someone shouted behind me, and I thought I heard Henry call my name, but everything sounded far away as my heart thudded. I was going to die. We were all going to die. Somehow, someway, that thing could kill gods, and this time there wouldn’t be an afterlife. Not for immortals.
I wasn’t ready to go. Not yet. Not ever.
An eternity later, we f inally reached the doors, and I shoved Ava through. Dizzy with terror and agony, I grabbed the handle to keep myself upright and watched the battle raging on the opposite end of the hall.
Twelve members of my new family fought it, with Henry and James blocking the aisle from a force I couldn’t see. I could feel it though, deep within my bones and every nerve in my body. Whatever it was, it seemed to shake the very foundation of the Underworld.
Blood dripped down James’s exposed arm as he struggled to hold off the monster with his uninjured hand. Henry stood beside him, an unmovable force, and I couldn’t tear myself away.
“Brothers!” cried Henry. “On my count!” The three brothers moved in toward the fog, and the others moved in behind them in a triangular formation, immeasurable power radiating
from each of them. Dylan and the redheaded Irene took the lead, but they didn’t have a chance to attack.
In the blink of an eye, Henry and his brothers f lew upward and out the window, taking the fog with them.
After the explosion of battle, the silence rang in my ears, and I f inally let myself slump to the f loor. Most of the remaining members of the council milled together near the thrones, but James and my mother hurried toward us.
James reached me f irst, and he dropped to his knees several feet away, his momentum sliding him toward me. “It got you, didn’t it? Theo!” he yelled over his shoulder, and I winced.
“Stop it,” I said. “You were hit, too.”
“Yes, but the difference is, if I die, Henry won’t rip the world apart.” His good hand hovered over my injured knee, not daring to touch me yet. I didn’t blame him. Blood dripped down my leg, pooling at my heel, and now that the threat was gone, however temporarily, every nerve in my body felt like it was on f ire. I’d never been in this much pain before in my life, not even when Calliope had killed me and thrown my body in a river.
My mother reached us and observed the damage, but she said nothing. Instead she slipped behind me and took Ava by the elbow. Now that the f ight was over, some color had returned to Ava’s cheeks, and when my mother tried to lead her away, Ava remained planted in front of me.
“You saved me,” she said, shaking like she was barefoot in the snow. “He would’ve killed me if you hadn’t pushed me out of the way.”
“It was nothing,” I said. “You would’ve done the same for me.”
Ava was silent. My mother moved to push her past me again, but this time Ava dropped down beside me, opposite James. “You don’t understand,” she said, her blue eyes wide and earnest. “They’re the only things that can kill us, and you saved my life.”
Caught between burning curiosity and agony, I said tightly, “Why did it attack us? Why didn’t it go after Henry and Walter and Phillip instead?”
“Because Calliope sent him,” said James, still fussing over my leg. He called over his shoulder, “Theo, she needs you now, not next week.”
Theo shuff led down the aisle toward us, his curly hair falling in his eyes. Ella matched his pace, but she focused on the ground, and her forehead was furrowed deeply. The only time I’d seen her look like that was when Theo had been attacked at Christmas last year. It was jarring, seeing the ever-conf ident Ella look as if she didn’t know up from down, and my stomach twisted.
“He got her,” said James, gesturing to my leg. Theo knelt down beside me and set his hands above my knee. I’d been healed by Henry before, and I expected the same comforting warmth to come from Theo.
Instead f iery light spread through the wound, pushing out the deep, agonizing pain. Burning heat replaced it, and I gasped, positive my leg was going to turn to ash and fall off. I didn’t dare open my eyes, and even when his hands pulled away, the pain remained.
“Done,” said Theo, and I heard him rise to his feet.
“There is nothing I can do for the scar.” Gathering what was left of my courage, I cracked open an eye, relieved when I saw that my leg was still attached, and by all accounts it looked perfectly normal. But when I tried to wiggle my toes, the f ire started all over again.
“If it’s healed, then why does it still hurt?” I said, panicked. What if the pain never went away? How was I supposed to live with that? Had Henry experienced the same thing in his chest? How could he have possibly fought that thing again if he had?
“Because there is no power in the world that can take away the pain until it is ready to leave,” said Theo. “It’s not an ordinary wound. It won’t last longer than a few days, because he is still so weak, but there is nothing I can do for you until then.”
“He?” I gingerly touched the thin silver line that ran across my knee. “You’re all calling it a he.” Theo nodded toward my mother. “I will leave this in your capable hands to explain. If you will excuse us.” He slipped his arm around Ella’s waist and headed back toward the cluster of remaining council members. They all sat in the pews again, their heads bent together as they spoke among themselves. As Theo and Ella approached, Dylan, Ava’s ex from Eden High School, rose to make room for them. Even from across the massive hall, I could feel his eyes on us.
“Mom?” I said, rubbing my knee now that I knew it wouldn’t make it hurt any worse. “What’s everyone talking about?”
She offered me her hand. I took it, amazed by how strong she felt compared to the years of frailty, and with effort I stood. Ava stayed glued to my side as my mother led me to a bench in the antechamber, and I eased myself down. It wasn’t possible that Henry had been in this much pain and I hadn’t known it. It must’ve had something to do with the council granting me immortality only six months before.
Or maybe Henry was immune.
Ava sat beside me and took my hand. James lingered in the doorway, leaning against it casually, but one look at him and I could see the fear beneath his mask of neutrality. First Ella, now him—whatever this was, it wasn’t good.
“Do you remember the Titans from your lessons with Irene?” said my mother in such a soft voice that I was jolted back to the days spent in a hospital, leaning over her so I could understand her dry and broken whispers.
I shook my head. Irene had seemed to hit only the most salient points in those myths, and I didn’t bother retaining much of that information past the f irst exam anyway. At the time, it hadn’t seemed important.
“They were your parents?” I said. My mother was Walter’s sister, but not by blood, as they had insisted time and time again. As Henry had told me nearly a year ago, family was the only word mortals had to describe anything close to the bond they shared, but it went much deeper than that.
“In a way,” said my mother. Spotting a few drops of blood on her sleeve, she waved her hand and they vanished.
“The Titans were the original rulers of this world, and eventually they grew bored and created us. There were six of us in the beginning—myself, Walter, Henry, Phillip, Sof ia and Calliope.”
“They were slaves,” said James.
“Toys,” corrected my mother. With the straightforward way she spoke, it was clear she’d told this story before.
“That was our purpose. To be the playthings of the Titans.
They loved us, and we loved them in return. But then they decided that we weren’t enough, so they made a new race that, unlike us, could cease to exist if they fought one another.”
“They created war.”
Ava sounded so small and meek that I hardly believed it was her speaking. Her blue eyes were rimmed with red, her cheeks had lost their color, and the hurt on her face was so palpable that I could barely stand to look at her.
“The Titans made humans do terrible things to entertain them.” Ava wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffed. “They were denied the most basic rights and freedoms.”
“Humans were soldiers who never saw the end of battle,” said James. “They were at the mercy of the Titans, but unlike the six siblings—”
“They were powerless to stop them.” My mother sat down beside me and set her hand over mine. “The things mortals do to one another is nothing compared to what the Titans did. Mental and physical torture. No sign of relief.
No voice that could possibly sway the most powerful beings in the universe.”
“So the six rebelled,” said Ava. She stared at the space between us, seemingly studying the velvet bench cushion, but a thread of strength ran through her voice now. “They banded together and used the powers the Titans had given them to f ight back.”
“And we won.” My mother smiled. She was the gentlest person I knew; she didn’t even kill the spiders and snakes that snuck into her garden. I couldn’t imagine her going to war untold eons ago with a force I didn’t begin to understand. “The Titans’ greatest weakness was their belief that there was no greater power in the world, and they couldn’t imagine us
thinking for ourselves. Perhaps if they hadn’t created mortals or given us abilities for their own amusement, we would still be theirs after all this time. Their mistake was not in creating us, but in creating something for us to protect.”
She ran her f ingers through my hair, and it was such a familiar gesture that my anxieties began to disappear, replaced by warmth that ran through me and melted the icy fear that had formed.
“We nearly lost so many times, and there were moments when we wanted to give in, but all it took in each of us was the memory of what the Titans were doing to the defense-less, and we pressed on. As long as we existed, we would not stand for it.”
With startling clarity, I f inally saw the balance between gods and mortals: gods were, in a strange way, the ones who were chained because of a war the six siblings had won an incalculable amount of time ago. They— we depended on humanity for our survival as much as humanity had depended on Walter and the others all those eons ago. It was why James was so afraid of the day humanity would eventually die out and there was nothing left but the dead and those who ruled them. Once humans didn’t need him any longer, he would fade. They all would, except for me and Henry. But without humans, gods were nothing.
“Is that what that was?” I said. “A—Titan?”
“He’s called Cronus, and he was once the king of the Titans,” said my mother. “He has been asleep since the end of the war, trapped in Tartarus with Nyx watching over him and the other imprisoned Titans.”
Ava shuddered, but said nothing. I f idgeted. “Nyx?” I said, hating how little I knew about any of this. My lessons from the year before had focused on the Greek myths, not their true heritage, and no amount of studying would ever make up for the fact that I hadn’t lived through it like the rest of them. Or at least hadn’t heard the stories for millennia.
“She is the best guard we have,” said my mother. “Henry volunteered to keep Cronus and the rest of the Titans who posed a risk to humanity locked up in the Underworld so there would be no humans around to tempt them, but we knew that if we allowed Cronus to remain conscious, he would f ind a way out. So the only solution we had was to keep him trapped in his dreams, which is Nyx’s specialty.”