The Goddess Test Boxed Set

  I elbowed him. “It isn’t me.”

  “Who else would it be? I mean, look at her—the nose is a bit off, but other than that, it’s perfect.”

  “It isn’t me,” I said stubbornly, giving him a look. We both knew it was a lie, but Henry couldn’t find out about the deal I’d made. “Calliope’s been shifting her appearance, and she looked exactly like an older blond version of me. You can’t tell what color hair this girl has, but that is definitely her nose.”

  James held my stare for a long moment, and finally he refocused on the picture. “You’re right,” he said. “It must be Calliope.”

  I wanted to hug him for lying and smack him for doing it so badly. Instead I settled on a smile and wrapped my arm around Henry’s waist. “See? It’s Cronus and Calliope. Nothing else makes sense anyway.”

  Henry exhaled, as if he’d been holding his breath this entire time. Maybe he had. “Of course,” he murmured. “My mistake.”

  Henry wasn’t stupid, but I hadn’t lied—Calliope did look a lot more like me and my mother these days. With luck, that would cover my lies long enough for Henry to recover. And by then, maybe his involvement would be enough for the council to take Calliope down and recapture Cronus, after all.

  I couldn’t stomach staring at that image any longer, and I drew Henry and James over to the edge of the Parthenon. Together we gazed down at the devastation once more, but this time Henry’s grip felt like steel. He wasn’t letting go for anything, and neither was I.

  I didn’t know how long we stood there. Minutes. Hours. Years. I was lost in forever, waiting for something to happen to remind me that there was still a world out there, a place to fight for even though Athens was gone, and a future beyond the one Cronus wanted for me. It wasn’t hopeless, not yet, and I couldn’t afford to forget that. The ocean grew surlier, whitecaps forming and waves raging against the shore, and something streaked across the sky.

  I blinked. “What was that?”

  “What was what?” said James, and another spark sped across the purple horizon.

  “That,” I said as another followed, and another. “Rescue flares?”

  “No,” said Henry. “It is dusk, and Olympus is overhead. The council is attacking the island.”

  My blood ran cold. I’d never seen the other members of the council attack in their own realm. Down in the Underworld, their abilities had been muted, but on the surface they must have been giving it their all.

  At what cost? Who would be next? My mother was among them. Would it be her?

  I swallowed hard, and my vision blurred. The last time I’d spoken to her, I’d been a selfish brat. I hadn’t given her the chance to explain why she’d kept the identity of my father secret. What if those were the last words I ever said to her?

  “I should help them,” said James, and he tried to let go of my hand, but I held on.

  “Be safe,” I said. “And make sure my mother comes home.”

  He kissed my cheek. “Always. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

  A few minutes? James started toward the center of the Parthenon, and several feet away, he began to glow. Before I could utter a word of surprise, he, too, turned into a blaze of light, and he took off after them.

  “Oh, my god,” I said as I followed his path across the sky. “I had no idea we could do that.”

  “They are most powerful when Olympus is nearby,” said Henry. “As James said, the battle will not last long. Come. We must return to where it is safe for you.”

  “You, too,” I said firmly. He could pretend he was fine all he wanted, but he wasn’t fooling me. I could see the exhaustion in his eyes. He wouldn’t have a chance if Cronus discovered we were here, if he didn’t know already. “Can we still visit Olympus sometime, once you’re healed?”

  Henry gave me a puzzled look. “We are not returning to the Underworld. We are going to Olympus. Cronus and Calliope believe me to be dead, and we must encourage that belief.”

  He was wrong; Cronus didn’t think he was dead. He knew we were going to find Rhea, and he had to realize that Rhea wouldn’t refuse to help her son.

  Though what if he didn’t? He knew nothing about a parent’s bond to a child. He cared about control and power, not affection and love. If I told him Rhea had refused to help, would he believe me?

  “All right,” I said. I would talk to James about it later. Henry was too tired, and he needed rest, not a late night of planning how best to screw with Cronus’s head. He’d be all too willing to do it, too, after that image of me beside Cronus. “I don’t know how to get back to Olympus.”

  “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.

  Be angry with him after the war, I thought, pushing it toward Henry. The council is fractured enough as it is.

  Henry’s eyebrow quirked, and though he didn’t look at me, his shoulders relaxed. At last he addressed his brother. “I will be well soon enough. How was the battle?”

  “It was what it was,” said Walter, exhaling. Even he couldn’t hide his relief at Henry’s apparent forgiveness. “Tomorrow we will attack again, and we will continue to do so until we have made the progress necessary to allow for a winning strategy. James told us of your discovery at the Parthenon. Perhaps that will give us clues as to Cronus’s plan.”

  “Perhaps,” said Henry. Walter eyed him as if he was sizing him up, and I automatically shifted in an attempt to protect Henry from that calculating stare.

  “And you, brother,” said Walter. “Will you be joining us as soon as you are well?”

  “As I am outside my realm, I cannot imagine that my contribution will be any great thing. But yes,” he said quietly. “I will join you.”

  “Me, too,” I said, and before anyone could protest, I added, “I have a right to fight for my family. While Henry’s recovering, he can teach me.”

  “No.” Henry’s voice was little more than a whisper in my ear. “I will not have you fight in this war.”

  Once again, we were back to this, to Henry insisting I couldn’t take care of myself. To the entire council refusing to accept that I might be able to help them, if only a little. Maybe a little would be enough to change the tide, yet they refused to consider the possibility. Hadn’t I just proven I wasn’t completely incompetent? I’d been the one to suggest going to the Parthenon in the first place. I’d been the one to discover the etchings. I didn’t know how to fight like them yet, but I could learn. And in the meantime, I could do a hell of a lot more than sit around and twirl my hair.

  I opened my mouth to protest, but my mother beat me to it. “Kate can fight if she wants,” she said. Her eyes locked on mine. “If Henry won’t teach her, I will.”

  Henry scowled, but Walter was the first to speak up. “Very well. If that is what Kate wants, so be it.” He touched my mother’s shoulder and turned to join the others on the opposite side of the circle.

  I stared after him. That was it? After everything that had happened, that was all he was willing to give me? No offer to teach me himself—not that I expected one, and I would’ve turned it down anyway, but still. No attempt to insist I stay safe. Just permission to go out and die if that was what I wanted.

  Maybe if I hadn’t already been so on edge, it wouldn’t have stung as much as it did. My mother knew I would’ve gone anyway. She knew who I was, and she knew it was pointless to try to argue. Walter didn’t know me though, and if he was really any sort of father, he should have cared.

  “Kate,” started Henry, but I stood, pulling my hand from his. He could only shield me for so long before he paid the price, and I wasn’t going to let that happen. I had to learn how to control my abilities. I had to learn how to protect myself, if only so I could protect Henry and our son.

  “You need to rest,” I said sharper than I intended. Leaning down, I kissed his cheek, a silent apology. “I love you. I just need to be alone right now.”

  He caught my lips with his, and a long moment passed before he finally broke away. After giving him a small smile, I ducked my head and hurried off toward the suites, silently praying no one would follow me. Of course they would, though. If Henry didn’t, James would, and if James didn’t—

  “Sweetheart.”

  If James didn’t, my mother would.

  I slowed to give her the chance to catch up, but I didn’t stop. What would she do if she found out about the deal I’d made with Cronus? Would she help? Tell the rest of the council? I couldn’t be sure, and that mistrust hurt like hell. I should’ve been able to confide in my own mother without worrying about the consequences.

  “I just want to be alone,” I mumbled, but she draped her arm across my shoulders
and fell into step beside me. I didn’t pull away. I couldn’t. Even if the anxiety of waiting and worrying for her to come back was gone, there would be a next time. There was always a next time, and I didn’t want to beat myself up about turning her away now like I had before I’d left with James.

  “You shouldn’t be alone right now,” she said, and there was something underneath her words I didn’t understand.

  She was right, though. If I had my way, I’d never be alone again, but I no longer had any guarantees. If the worst happened—if the council didn’t discover a way to stop Calliope and imprison Cronus once more—then I might have Milo, but I would be Cronus’s plaything for eternity. And I would rather Milo die and spend the rest of forever oblivious in the Underworld than be subjected to the same fate.

  My mother led me to her bedroom, and as she entered, the branches of her bed frame flowered with magenta blossoms. I sat down on the edge of her mattress and inhaled. They smelled like summertime.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about your father sooner,” she said, rubbing my back, and I let myself relax under her touch. After years of wondering when her last moment would be, I no longer had it in me to be angry with her.

  “It’s all right,” I said, although it wasn’t. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I selfishly wanted to keep you for myself.” Settling in behind me, she combed her fingers through my hair and began to braid it. “I loved our life together. I missed the council, but having you more than made up for it. I hadn’t been that happy since—”

  She stopped short, and I stared at my hands. She didn’t need to finish for me to know what she was going to say. “Since you had Persephone,” I mumbled.

  “Yes. Since I had Persephone.” She shook out the braid she’d managed in those few seconds and began again. “I raised you as a mortal because I believed that kind of life, away from this grandiose existence, would give you the best possible chance of passing the tests. But along the way, I discovered how much happier I was when it was just the two of us lost in the sea of humanity. And if I ever allowed Walter into our lives, that would have shattered.”