“I don’t know,” she whispered. “Nothing like this has ever happened before. No matter how many f ights they had or—or anything, they’ve never purposely hurt innocent people before. We’re supposed to protect them, and the six were always really, really adamant about that, you know?
That’s why we never thought Calliope was the one killing Henry’s girls. It’s just—she’s never done anything like that before. None of them have.”
She set her head on my shoulder, and I forced myself to swallow the lump of fear in my throat. Ava needed reassurance much more than I did.
“They’ll f igure it out,” I said, even though I had no way of knowing if I was telling the truth or not. “They’re strong, right? The council. And she’s one against thirteen.”
“But she has Cronus,” Ava said with a sniff. “When he regains his strength, there’s nothing any of us can do to stop him. It took the six of them ages to contain him the f irst time, and the only reason they won the war then was because they had the element of surprise. The Titans never thought they’d go against them. But now…” Now Cronus knew what to expect, and he’d had nearly the entire span of humanity to come up with a way to defeat them. “There’s more of you now though,” I said, keeping my voice steady for Ava’s sake. It was easier to keep a lid on my own fears when she was in such bad shape. “You can win again.”
Ava wiped her cheeks, and when she gave me a hopeless look, I blinked, taken aback. Despite her moments of doubt, Ava had always been bubbly and optimistic, seeing the best in a situation no matter how bleak it was. After she’d died in Eden, instead of bemoaning the loss of her mortal life, no matter how temporary it might have been, she embraced being dead. Even when I’d imposed a harsh punishment for the role she’d played in the scuff le that had resulted in Xander’s supposed death and Theo’s grave injuries, she hadn’t turned on me. She’d f ished my body from the river after Calliope had killed me, and she’d brought me back to Henry, believing he could do something to save me. Ava was the one who believed in the impossible, not me. When she lost hope, how was I supposed to have any?
“You don’t understand,” she said in a broken voice. “It took all six of them the f irst time. It doesn’t matter how many new gods there are. None of us combined are as powerful as a single one of them. Without Calliope f ighting with them, we don’t stand a chance.”
I looked away, refusing to let her see my eyes f ill with tears. Losing would mean destruction beyond anything I could comprehend. At best, it would mean enslavement for Henry and my mother and everyone I’d come to care about; at worst, it would mean our deaths.
The council might have had countless lifetimes to live, but I was nineteen years old, and I really wanted to see twenty.
I didn’t remember falling asleep, but when I woke up, Ava was gone and Pogo snored in the indent she’d left in the pillow. Sighing, I took inventory, pleased that at least some of the pain had dulled. Even if it did still hurt to move around, I was determined to grin and bear it.
But the moment I sat up, pain exploded behind my eyes, giving me a splitting headache. I moaned and lay back down, and Pogo licked my cheek as I massaged my temples. Apparently all the pain had gathered in my head while I’d been sleeping.
Someone to my right giggled, and my eyes f lew open, taking in the rock walls around me. I wasn’t in my bedroom anymore. Instead I stood in the cavern where I’d watched Henry battle the fog I now knew to be Cronus, and the massive gate loomed before me, carved from the stone itself.
I twisted around to f ind whoever it was that had laughed, and suddenly I was nose-to-nose with Calliope.
I froze. This was it. She’d somehow managed to kidnap me, and there was nothing I could do to protect myself.
If she was half as powerful as Ava said she was, she could probably rip me in half with a single thought, and I knew better than to hope there was any way I could talk myself out of this.
To my amazement, she looked past me and stepped forward. Instead of running into me, she moved through me, as if I were nothing more than a ghost.
I wasn’t really here. Just like what had happened when I’d f irst arrived in the Underworld, this was another vision, and Calliope had no idea I was watching.
I hurried to follow her. She walked proudly through the cavern toward a smaller cave to the side, and I noticed an oddly shaped pile beyond the light that glowed from the ceiling. I could only make out shadows, but whatever it was made Calliope giggle again.
“I can’t believe it.” She stopped a foot from the cave entrance. “Eons of putting up with you, and this is all it takes?”
My insides turned to ice. I didn’t want to look, but my feet moved forward anyway until I could make out the three bodies piled together, bound by chains made of fog and stone.
Walter on the left, his head slumped forward as blood trickled down his cheek. Phillip on the right, an ugly wound running through an eye, down his face and disappearing underneath his shirt.
And Henry in the middle, as pale and still as death.
CHAPTER FIVE
OPTIONS
I f lew to Henry’s side, too afraid to touch him, but too frightened to turn away, either. Desperately I searched all three brothers for any sign that they were still alive, but I saw nothing. No rise and fall of the chest, no telltale f lutter of a pulse in their necks—except those were mortal ways of judging if someone was still living. Henry and his brothers weren’t mortal and never had been.