Nicholas nodded, his expression impassive. He wasn’t helping.
“Henry?” I said in a small voice, my heart pounding in my chest. “What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, staring at me in a way that made my blood run cold. “I am so very, very sorry.”
And with no other explanation, he left.
CHAPTER 16
THE RIVER STYX
I spent the rest of the morning in bed crying. My head ached and my entire body was so sore that getting up didn’t seem possible, but all I could think about was the way Henry had looked at me before he’d left. As if he would never see me again.
It wasn’t fair, and for the life of me I didn’t understand why he was doing this. Was it because I’d said I loved him? It’d been quick, and I hadn’t given it much thought, but after I said it, I knew it was the truth. I was willing to do anything it took to give him another chance, even if it meant giving up any choice I had in my life, and if that didn’t equal love, I didn’t know what did. But it wasn’t like I expected him to love me in return.
The more I thought about it, the more I put the pieces together. The confession that fell off my tongue in a shower of words I couldn’t stop—the sudden need to be with him—the warning not to eat. I’d been poisoned. Except this time, so had Henry and Calliope, and we’d all survived.
It hadn’t been designed to kill me. It was an aphrodisiac.
Once I understood, everything seemed much clearer to me. The only question was who? Was someone trying to give me and Henry a push in the right direction, or was there something else to it? And if there was, who hated me enough to even try?
The only person I could think of was Ella. She hated Ava, and maybe if she thought I was on her side…or maybe she thought that getting rid of me would mean getting rid of Ava, too. With the way Ava had behaved lately, I almost couldn’t blame her. But what did Ella have to gain?
James? I dismissed the thought as quickly as it appeared. The last thing he wanted was to push me and Henry closer together. It was possible that this was his intention, for Henry to storm out and ignore me for the rest of my stay, but it was a risk I was sure James wouldn’t take. Giving Henry any excuse to fall for me and to fight for his realm would be dangerous. Besides, the only surefire way to stop it was to make me fail a test, and—
My blood turned to ice in my veins. Of course. The tests. Gluttony, the seven deadly sins—lust.
Despair filled the pit of my stomach. I’d failed, hadn’t I? Even if it wasn’t my fault, even if it had been an aphrodisiac, it didn’t matter. That had to be why Henry was so upset. Anything else didn’t make sense, unless he really had been forcing affection for my sake.
I didn’t want to think about that. I didn’t want to think about possibly failing either, so instead I dragged myself out of bed, grateful that Nicholas was stationed outside my room instead of inside. Without any painkillers, I had to deal with the aches and pains, apparent side effects of whatever drug I’d been given, but even those were duller now.
I dressed, and despite my protesting body, I picked up my clothes from the night before and remade the bed. The council had to see what had happened, that we’d been set up. If they were at all fair and just, they couldn’t fail me because of this. I clung to that hope, that one last chance, and forced myself to push any other possibility aside. Everything would be okay. It had to be.
Calliope came by shortly before sundown, looking about as sick as I felt. She was pale and trembling, and instead of sending her away, as Nicholas had with every other servant who tried to check on me, he offered his arm to her and escorted her inside.
“Calliope?” I said from my spot near the window, curled up in one of the overstuffed armchairs. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said with a tired smile as Nicholas helped her into a chair. “The more important question is, how are you?”
I waited until Nicholas left to answer, even though I was sure he could hear everything through the door. “Tired,” I admitted. “I ache a lot.”
That had unexpected results. Calliope’s face crumpled, and in less time than it took for me to haul myself out of my chair, she was sobbing. “Oh, Kate! I’m so sorry, I didn’t know until after I’d dropped it off, and I tried to send someone to warn you, but it was too late, and I didn’t know what to do—”
I knelt beside her chair, taking her hand. “Don’t apologize. You had no way of knowing, and I’m sorry they got to you, too.”
Her lower lip trembled, but she seemed to be making a valiant effort to keep herself in check. “I should have waited a few minutes. It was stupid of me, and it could have gotten you killed.”
“But you didn’t,” I said. “We’re both fine. All three of us are fine.”
She stared at me, her eyes almost unnaturally wide. “But did you and Henry…”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “It’s fine, Calliope, really. If this works out, then that would’ve probably happened eventually anyhow. And if it doesn’t, I won’t remember it, so either way.”
The dark look on her face told me she didn’t believe me. I didn’t believe myself either. His extreme reaction to the drug had distracted me from thinking about the fact that something major had happened the night before, and it didn’t feel as if it’d totally sunk in. This was supposed to be a big deal; I was supposed to feel upset or dirty, or at the very least confused about what to feel about the whole thing. But at that point, I was far more concerned about Henry than I was myself.
“Why do you think it was inevitable that he go to bed with you?” said Calliope in a careful voice I couldn’t read. “There are rumors that he has never…that he and Persephone didn’t even…” She trailed off, clearly uncomfortable.
I opened my mouth, fully intending on saying something intelligent, but the only thing I managed to blurt out was, “He was a virgin?”
“No one knows for sure,” said Calliope quickly. “He was very possessive of Persephone, but he did love her. She just didn’t love him back, that’s all. They had separate bedrooms and everything.”
I frowned. “He doesn’t have to worry about that with me.”
“Which part?”
“The part where she didn’t love him back. I mean, if we’d met on the street or something, I probably wouldn’t have even bothered—I mean, he’s gorgeous.” I remembered what James had said so many months ago and managed a small smile. “He’s a ten. A twelve, even, and I’m nowhere near that. I would’ve never worked up the courage to talk to him on my own. But getting to know him…” It was pathetic and hard for me to admit, but it was the truth. And maybe if Calliope understood, she wouldn’t feel so guilty about letting it happen in the first place. “I love him. I don’t understand how anyone could know him and not love him.”
Calliope stared at the carpet, her cheeks red. “Me neither.”
I was silent, not knowing how to respond. Had she even intended for me to hear it? But she didn’t say anything else, so I didn’t press her. Eventually I stood on my aching legs and eased back down in my chair, wincing when my head protested. It wasn’t the end of the world, but it was bad enough to make me glad I didn’t have to trek down to the dining room for dinner tonight.
“I have an idea,” said Calliope cheerfully. Her bright mood, so different from what it’d been only seconds before, startled me.
“Yeah?” I said, not meaning to sound as suspicious as I did.
“A picnic—tomorrow, once we’ve both recovered. We can walk out to the river and bring a blanket and everything. It’s supposed to be warm.”
After getting a good look at the way she was beaming, there was no way I could’ve said no. She felt bad enough about getting Henry and me into trouble, and an afternoon away from the drama and confusion of the manor sounded wonderful. The thought of the river still sent a shiver down my spine, but I did my best to ignore it.
“That sounds great,” I said, and Calliope grinned. At the very least it w
ould serve as a nice distraction from the possibility that I’d already failed.
Henry didn’t show up that night, and for the first time since Christmas, I slept alone. I tried not to think about it too much, but in the dark with Pogo curled up beside me, it was impossible not to. Was he mad at me because I’d made him sleep with me and subsequently failed because of it? But I hadn’t made him, had I? He hadn’t tried to stop me.
Was he mad because I said I’d loved him, and now that the drug had worn off, he realized how stupid it sounded? Or did he feel guilty about it? I didn’t care if he still loved Persephone. While I didn’t exactly like her, he was dedicated and loyal, and that he could still love someone who’d been so horrible to him—there was nothing to feel guilty about.
Unless he felt guilty because he loved his wife so much. Did he feel like he’d betrayed her?
It was an accident, not a mistake, unless Henry thought it was. Maybe it wasn’t exactly how I’d envisioned it all happening, but it hadn’t been bad enough to make him feel like he had to stay away. Had it?
Or maybe he felt guilty for giving in and helping me fail. Even if that was the truth, it didn’t explain his absence. It hadn’t been his fault, and if I really had failed, there was no point in me staying in Eden Manor anymore. But I was still here, and that had to mean something.
I slept badly, and even my dreams with my mother brought me no comfort. I was quiet and withdrawn, and while she asked me again and again what was wrong, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. I hated myself for it, not wanting to squander my last few weeks with her, but even if I could talk to her about it, I didn’t know what I would say. She was placing all of her hopes for my future in Henry, and I couldn’t tell her how badly I’d managed to destroy it. It would break her heart, and at least one of us deserved to be happy.
Thinking of Henry hurt, and the morning brought no reprieve. I tried to leave my bedroom, but Henry’s orders hadn’t changed: I was stuck in that room until someone Henry trusted—which seemed to be limited to himself, Nicholas and Calliope—came to pick me up. There wasn’t anywhere to go, but I hated being caged.
But wasn’t that exactly what I’d been for the past six months? The small voice in the back of my head was surprisingly bitter. Hadn’t I been caged like some sort of animal, like I belonged to him?
No. I’d walked into this willingly, and he’d made it clear I wasn’t being held against my will. It was terrible of me to even think otherwise. I wasn’t Persephone.
Calliope came to pick me up at noon, picnic basket in hand. She looked so happy that it felt like the conversation we’d had the day before never happened, and I didn’t dare bring it up. We linked arms, and while we moved through the corridors, I kept my eyes peeled for any sign of Henry. He’d always been there when I wanted him to be, but now there was no sign of him.
As we left the house, Nicholas trailed a few feet behind us. While being followed was still annoying, it was comforting to have him there; limp or not, no one could’ve been crazy enough to mess with him. Pogo also seemed fond of him as he followed him through the garden, sticking close to Nicholas instead of me.
“Kate?”
I looked up at the sound of my name, but that was as far as I got. In an instant, Nicholas was between me and Ava, who was standing on the other side of the fountain. It was the closest I’d been to her since Christmas.
I didn’t want to ignore her, but between all that had happened with Henry, she was one more thing I couldn’t find the energy to deal with. She made me feel guilty, and I felt enough things right now without piling that on as well.
“Kate—” Ava tried to move around Nicholas, but he was massive. “Please. They wouldn’t let me into your room, and I need to—”
“Don’t you get it?” said Calliope so viciously that I stared at her, surprised. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
I could see Ava’s expression underneath Nicholas’s left elbow, and she looked stunned. “Kate,” she said, her eyes welling with tears. “Please. Just for a minute.”
I stood there with my feet rooted to the ground. I’d never seen her look so scared in her life, and against my better judgment, I said, “What is it?”
She looked at Nicholas and Calliope nervously. “Can we talk alone?”
Nicholas scowled. “No one is alone with her.”
“Please, Nicholas,” said Ava in such a familiar way that made me wonder if she had gotten to him as well. “I just need a moment—”
Calliope cut her off. “We’re leaving now.” Tugging at my elbow, she led me toward the forest. I didn’t fight her, though I would’ve insisted on speaking with Ava only a few days before. But someone had to have done this to Henry and me, and as much as I hated the thought, Ava had the motivation to do it. All she would’ve had to do was slip into the kitchen and spike our drinks. Maybe she’d only been trying to help, to give me and Henry a push, not realizing what the consequences would be. Or maybe she’d been trying to ruin things for me so completely that I felt as alone as she did. Neither possibility was pleasant.
As we reached the edge of the trees, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Nicholas holding Ava’s arm, stopping her from following us. She fought back, whirling around to face him and giving him a lecture I was glad I couldn’t hear. But at least she wasn’t following us.
“How embarrassing,” said Calliope, stepping gingerly over a thick root that sprung from the ground. “It must feel awful to be in her position, but that’s no excuse for acting like that.”
I dared another look. Nicholas was following us now, and Ava sat on the edge of the fountain, her shoulders slumped. She was watching me.
I snapped my head around to stare straight ahead, not looking back the rest of the hike. I was silent, trying to sort through my thoughts, but my head was still a little muddled from whatever had been in my hot chocolate. Did I have it wrong? Was it possible that she’d heard about the poison as well? Was she concerned?
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that she was the most likely suspect. After what had happened over Christmas, I couldn’t blame her for being angry with me, and I had so many things she didn’t. Life, opportunity—and at least for a day, I’d had Henry.
What was the next step? Did her jealousy give her motivation enough to try to kill me? Or had she heard about Henry’s reaction, and was that enough to satisfy her?
“The river’s this way,” said Calliope, interrupting my thoughts as we picked our way through the forest floor. I looked down as I walked, not wanting to trip.
I struggled to come up with something to say that didn’t involve Ava. “Does it run through the whole place?” I couldn’t remember seeing any river on the other side of the hedge.
“It goes underground,” said Calliope, as if this were perfectly normal. “I heard Ava almost drowned in it once. Is that true?”
“She didn’t almost drown,” I said, grimacing at the memory. “She did drown. I had to jump in after her. It’s how she died—hit her head on a rock.” I focused on the forest floor, not wanting to think about that night.
“What do you think you’d be doing right now if you weren’t here? If Ava hadn’t died?”
That was the very question I’d been avoiding asking myself for the past six months. “I don’t know. I’d be back in New York, I guess.”
“With your mother?”
I sighed. “No. She’d have died by now.” That was much easier to say than I’d expected. “She wanted me to stay in Eden and finish high school, but I don’t think I’d have been able to do that.”
Calliope shot me a sympathetic look, but I didn’t want her pity. “The clearing’s just up here,” she said, and peering through the trees, I saw it—a meadow about the size of my bedroom. I heard the river gurgling nearby. “What about your father?”
“What about him?” I said. “He’s never been in the picture. I don’t know where he is, and I don’t care. We’ve always done fine without him.”
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“You’re not so fine anymore,” said Calliope softly. I ignored her. My mother rarely talked about my father, and I’d learned from an early age not to mention him. It wasn’t that she’d seemed angry or bitter about him. There simply wasn’t much to tell. They hadn’t been married, I hadn’t asked what happened, and that was that. Any fantasies I’d had when I was little about him showing up on the doorstep one day and embracing me, buying me ice cream and toys—they were long gone now. My mother and I were a team. We didn’t need anyone else.
Calliope and I set up our picnic in silence, her laying out the blanket and me rifling through the food. Remembering my promise to Henry was difficult while staring directly into a basket stuffed with sandwiches and macaroni and fried chicken and the same luscious desserts I was served every evening, but I managed. Barely.
“I’m sorry—this looks delicious, but I can’t eat,” I said. “I’m really not very hungry.”
“Sure you are,” she said, straightening out a corner of the blanket and flopping down in the middle. At the edge of the clearing, Nicholas loomed, looking surly. “You didn’t have breakfast. Besides, I’m eating, too, remember?”
“It’s not—” I bit my lip. The last thing I wanted was to insult her, but I couldn’t very well tell her it was a test. “After what happened…I promised Henry, that’s all. I’m sorry. I should’ve told you that before you hauled all of this out here.”
I waited for her to say something, but her expression was unreadable. Finally she smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s no problem at all. Would you mind if I…?”
“Not at all,” I said. “Help yourself, really. And don’t mind my growling stomach.”
She started to unpack the basket, and I sat down across from her, folding my knees to my chest. We weren’t very far from the spot where I’d first met Henry. It hurt to think about that, so I turned away, instead concentrating on Pogo as he pounced around on the grass. “Calliope? Can I ask you something personal?”