The Goddess Inheritance (Goddess Test #3)(27)
Author: Aimee Carter

“Lucky for you, I do,” said Henry with a faint smile. “Close your eyes.”

I gazed out across the ruins of Athens one last time. I would make this right. I couldn’t give the people back their lives, but I would do everything I could to make their stay in the Underworld a happy one.

Focusing on the streaks in the sky attacking the island prison, I said a silent prayer that they came home safely. To whom, I didn’t know. To anyone who would listen. There had to be a way to stop Cronus’s version of the future from happening, and I would do everything I could to figure it out.

At last I closed my eyes, and Henry wrapped his arms around me. A warm wind surrounded us, and my feet left the ground. This wasn’t Henry’s usual disappearing-reappearing act, but it didn’t matter. We were together, and for one beautiful moment, we were flying.

* * *

I’d spent countless hours in hospitals, waiting for a doctor to tell me how my mother was doing after her latest round of tests and surgeries. Anxiety had become my closest companion during those years, and no matter how many times I played the game, it never got any easier.

I’d never been able to read or make small talk with the others waiting for news. Sometimes I’d filled in the empty spaces of coloring books with cheap packs of crayons I’d found in the gift shops. Sometimes I’d stared at a television, unable to focus on what was showing. It never seemed nearly as important as what was happening to my mother.

Sometimes I had imagined I could feel everything she felt. I’d imagined what she could see if she was awake. If not, I’d imagined what she’d dreamed. And always, always, time had stood still while I waited for the inevitable bad news.

I’d known I would lose her someday, but then came Henry. Then came the seven tests. Then came the rest of my life. The moment I’d passed, the moment I’d swallowed my pride enough to admit defeat, my mother had appeared in all her immortal glory, and I’d thought it was the universe’s way of promising I would never lose her again.

That promise was a lie.

Henry eased down onto his black-diamond throne in the vast room inside Olympus, and without saying a word, I curled up in his lap. He kissed me, the sort of warm, soft kiss that normally washed away every worry I had, but not today.

We waited. He ran his fingers through my hair, toying with the ends, and I stared at the center of the throne room. The faint sounds of battle filtered in from the world below us, and the clouds on the sunset floor swirled, as if they, too, could sense the world’s discontent.

It never ceased to amaze me how quickly a few minutes with my mother could pass. When I knew I might never see her again, however, those few minutes turned into hours, and my entire world narrowed until all I could think of was her.

“Tell me about him,” whispered Henry, his voice muted as if he were half a world away.

“Milo?” I said.

“Yes.” He threaded his fingers through mine. “What’s he like?”

He was trying to distract me, and my heart swelled with gratitude. “James taught me how to show you. Do you feel up for it now?”

The smile on his face was worth every drop of guilt I felt for caring about something other than my mother right now. “Yes. I would love that.”

“And—and you’re sure Cronus won’t be able to see you?”

He brushed my knuckles with the pad of his thumb. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Pulling Henry into my vision of the nursery felt like dragging him through quicksand, exactly like it had with James, but I was almost too distracted to notice. I had no idea what I was going to say to Cronus. Would I let him keep up his ruse? Or had I already given myself away with James? And what about Henry? What if Cronus said something that gave my lie at the Parthenon away? But I needed Henry to meet Milo. I needed him to see our son for more than a fraction of a—

Something tugged me sharply back to Olympus. Lost in the middle of that quicksand, I had no choice but to return to the throne room, once again feeling as if I were surfacing after a long swim. I opened my mouth to complain, sure it was James again, but my mother pulled me into an embrace before I could utter a word.

“Kate.” Her voice surrounded me, soothing away my frustration. Her skin was cold, but she was alive.

Fighting tears, I hugged her as tightly as I dared. Her body felt as delicate as it had during the last days of her mortal life. “I’m sorry—I’m so sorry, Mom. What I said before, I didn’t mean—”

“I know,” she whispered. “It’s all right. I’m just relieved you’re safe.”

I could’ve held on to her forever, waiting for her to warm up again, but she pulled away. Behind her the others gathered, all the worse for wear, but no one was bleeding.

“I told you not to go to her,” said my mother, and it took me a moment to realize she was talking to Henry. “You shouldn’t have gone anywhere in your condition.”

Henry grimaced, and he set his hand on my back, as if he couldn’t go a moment without touching me. I wasn’t about to complain. “You would have been just as angry if I had not,” he said.

“Likely so,” admitted my mother, and she kissed us both on the forehead. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

“Hey, what about me?” said James, and she moved aside so he could join us. “I did most of the work.”

“You insisted on dropping off in New York City instead of Africa, like I told you to do,” said my mother sternly. “You could have had her back days ago.”

James shrugged sheepishly. “Yeah, well. Henry was stable, and it isn’t a trip if there’s no traveling involved, you know.”

“Do not pretend it was anything more than you wanting to spend more time with her,” said Henry.

James grinned. “Can you blame me? She’s the only one of you who bothers with me for more than a few minutes at a time.”

“I wonder why that is,” said my mother, nudging him with her hip, and he smirked.

Behind them, someone cleared their throat, and my mother’s smile faded. Walter stepped forward. “Brother,” he said to Henry. “Welcome back. You are well?”

Something flickered in Henry’s eyes, as if he were making a decision. No real question what that was—the last time they’d spoken, it’d been an argument over me. But I was safe now, and there were more important things to worry about. Like rescuing Milo.