Goddess Interrupted

  How is that even an option?”

  “Because anything else would be suicide,” said Dylan with a sneer. “While you were getting your beauty sleep, the rest of us went over every feasible plan. With Diana and Sof ia, our options were limited. Without them, we have no choice but to wait until Calliope makes her next move.

  We can’t face her head-on, not if you want there to be any of us left to f ight Cronus when he f inds a way to escape.” When, not if. “There has to be something we can do.”

  “They knew that this was a possibility,” said Irene. “They knew our powers are limited in this realm, and they took that chance and left us anyway.”

  The note of hurt in her voice surprised me. Did they think my mother and Sof ia had abandoned them?

  “Besides,” added Theo, “there’s still a chance they’ll succeed.”

  “And if they don’t?” I said. As much as I wanted to grasp on to the hope that my mother would come back safely without the rest of the council’s intervention, if three of the six couldn’t withstand Calliope and Cronus, I didn’t see how it was possible that only two would.

  “Then it’s only a matter of time before Cronus escapes,” said Dylan. “Once he does, he’ll tear the world apart, destroy humanity, and if we’re lucky, kill us quickly.” The temperature in the throne room seemed to drop twenty degrees. “And none of you are willing to do anything about it?” I said, stunned. “You’re just going to sit back and let it happen, even though he’ll kill you anyway?”

  “No,” said Ella sharply, and she glared at Dylan. “If we stay out of it, he might leave us alone.”

  “So you’d rather lose the only hope you have of defeat-ing Cronus and saving billions of lives, so long as there’s a chance you’ll be allowed to live?” I said. “Is this a joke?” No one answered. Of course it wasn’t a joke. They were all serious, and I didn’t know what to say to that. These weren’t the people I’d met and gotten to know in Eden.

  They were cowards, and the idea that the most powerful beings on the planet could let humanity die—it didn’t make sense. They were supposed to protect them, not sit back and let Cronus kill everyone.

  I balled my hands into f ists. “You tested me for six months to make sure I was good enough to be one of you—moral enough and strong enough and self less enough.

  And now you can’t even help save your own family?” A small part of me understood that it must have been terrifying to face death when they’d lived for eons thinking they never would. Or at the very least, when they faded, it would be peaceful and without any pain. Death was part of being human, and I hadn’t forgotten what that felt like yet. They’d never had the chance to learn. But that wasn’t an excuse.

  “Just because you had to be good enough to be one of us doesn’t mean the rest of us are.” Ava glared at Dylan as well, and he seemed to shrink under the intensity of it. “We’ve never exactly been upstanding, you know. We’re just good at acting holier than thou when it suits our needs. And some of us are better actors than others.”

  I stood, and the screech of my stool against the f loor gave me goose bumps. “I don’t care what you do. I’m going to f ind them. You can stay here and sit on your asses all day, or you can help. It doesn’t matter to me. But I would rather be torn to shreds than live with the guilt of knowing that I could have done something and didn’t.” I didn’t want to die, and in a perfect world, no one would have to. This wasn’t a perfect world though, and they weren’t perfect beings. I wasn’t exactly making the smartest move either, storming off without a plan or an inkling of which direction to go in, but it was better than sitting around and driving myself crazy waiting for something that might never happen.

  I turned on my heel and started down the aisle, ignoring the pain in my leg. I took three steps, but the sound of Irene’s voice echoed through the hall.

  “Wait.”

  I stopped and faced them again, my arms crossed tightly.

  “I’m not going to let any of you talk me out of it. I don’t want to die, and I don’t want any of you to either, but sitting around here waiting for Cronus to turn us into bar-beque won’t do anything to help that.”

  “We weren’t going to stop you,” said Dylan, and Ava shot him a look. His eyes narrowed, and he squared his shoulders, but at least he didn’t say anything else.

  Irene cleared her throat. “What my dear brother meant to say is that while we are ineffective in the Underworld, there are things we could do aboveground.”

  “Like what?” I said warily, wondering if it included f inding a spot to hide.

  “Create a trap,” said Nicholas, the large blond who had acted as my bodyguard in Eden. He rarely spoke, and I had to glance around the circle before I realized who was talking. “There are only so many exits Cronus can use if Henry—” He paused, and I knew what he meant to say.

  If Henry didn’t survive. “If Henry isn’t able to keep him in the Underworld,” he amended. “He might tip his hand early on and show us the route he intends to take. We could create a trap for him, something to hold him until we have a plan.”

  “He’ll have to open the gate f irst if he wants to reach the surface,” said Dylan. “I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

  I looked at James for an explanation, but he was too busy staring at his hands. “What do you mean?” I said. “Isn’t he already through?”

  The other gods looked at me as if I’d asked why one plus one equals two, and my cheeks burned under their stares.

  “Cronus is still behind the gate,” said Irene. “While he’s awake, he can reach corners of the Underworld most of us don’t even know exist. Which is why the others kept him asleep all this time. But what you saw earlier was only a very small part of him, and if he were to fully escape, the damage would be catastrophic.”

  All of the blood drained from my face. “That—that was only a piece?”

  “Like a pinkie,” said Dylan, wiggling his f inger for em-phasis. “Do you get it now, why none of us wants to f ight him?”

  I did, and my mouth went dry. “That doesn’t change anything.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” said Irene. “We will all work together to create a trap as soon as we discover the nearest possible exit point.”

  “You can,” said Dylan with a scowl. “I want nothing to do with this. I love a good f ight, but this is slaughter.”

  “Oh, you’ll help,” said Irene. “Even if I have to drag you there by the ears.”

  “And how do you think you’ll manage that?” said Dylan.

  Her eyes glinted. “Do you really want to f ind out?” His expression hardened, and I could practically see the smoke pouring out of his ears. “Whatever. At least it isn’t as stupid as aimlessly wandering around the Underworld.”

  “Yes, I know it’s stupid, thanks,” I snapped. “I’m still going to try, and you acting like an ass isn’t going to stop me.”

  I started toward the exit again, and this time no one spoke up. The farther away I got from them, the more light-headed I became. I might never see any of them again.

  By the time I found Cronus’s prison, it could be too late—

  and that was if I ever found it to begin with. Everyone I knew could die, and I might spend eternity wandering the Underworld searching for something that no longer existed.

  As soon as I’d made it into the antechamber, I sank onto the bench and put my head between my knees. This couldn’t be happening. The world was going to end unless someone uncovered a miracle, and it wasn’t going to be me.

  Dylan was right—I wasn’t even sure where I was going, let alone what I was going to do when I got there. But what were my other options? Stay with the remaining members of the council and wait to be killed? I’d be useless setting up a trap. I couldn’t even control my visions, let alone any power I might have.

  I couldn’t do nothing and let everyone else handle the battle. Maybe it wasn’t entirely my fault, but I’d certainly helped push Calliope past her break
ing point, and I wasn’t in the habit of letting others clean up my messes while I stood around and watched. We had no prayer of winning without the six siblings, and since no one else was going after them, that left me.

  Would this have happened if I’d shown Calliope a little more compassion, if I hadn’t kept her from seeing Henry for the rest of her existence? Would she still have done this?

  Playing what-if was pointless. If one of the other girls had succeeded, Calliope would’ve done the same thing.

  There was nothing I could have possibly done to make Calliope like me, not when she hated me from the beginning.

  Whatever role I played in pushing her over the edge, she was the one who made the decision to do this.

  Even though I knew that, I couldn’t help but feel guilty.

  I heard footsteps approaching from the hall, and a moment later the door opened and shut. I didn’t look up. If it was James coming to tell me I was making a mistake, or Ava insisting I couldn’t give up my life for this, I didn’t care.

  I was doing this whether they liked it or not.

  Someone sat down beside me, and the gentle hand on my back was unmistakably Ava’s. “Are you okay?” she said softly, and I straightened, keeping my eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to keep the light-headedness at bay.

  “Yeah, I’m peachy,” I muttered. Her hand stilled, and I sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s just—”

  “It’s just that you learned there’s a pretty good chance the world is going to end, and you need a moment to think,” said Ava, and I nodded. She seemed to be taking it better now, but she’d been with the council before I’d gotten there. She’d had more time to absorb it.

  “What would have happened if things had been different?” I said. “If I hadn’t passed the test—”

  “She still would’ve done it.”

  I opened my eyes. James leaned against the wall, his hands shoved in his pockets and his hair a mess. It was a weight off my shoulders to hear him voicing the same thoughts I was trying to convince myself were true, and I gave him a small smile.

  He didn’t smile back. “Calliope’s been planning this for a long time, and once she woke Cronus, nothing was going to stop her. She wants you dead. She wants us all dead. She stopped thinking rationally long before you were born, and no amount of blaming yourself is going to change that.” My heart sank. So that was it then—eventually I’d have to hand myself over to her regardless of how this turned out. If the council was right, if Calliope and Cronus really were unstoppable, if we were all going to die anyway—

  I didn’t want to. Every f iber of my being fought against it, and I felt woozy all over again, knowing what she would do to me. But what if that was the only solution? What if that was the only way to convince Calliope to help subdue Cronus again? If she’d really fought with the others in the war against the Titans, then the part of her that cared enough to risk her own existence for humanity had to be in there somewhere. And no matter how upset and humili-ated she was, maybe having my head on a platter would be enough for her to change her mind.

  Last resort, I thought. Only as a last resort.

  If it did come to that and giving up my own life meant this nightmare could end—I wanted to be self ish and live, but I couldn’t stand back and watch everyone else be slaughtered because of me. I wasn’t sure which option was more self ish, but when it might have been within my power to end this, I wouldn’t ignore that, as badly as I wanted to forget it was even a possibility.

  Either way, I had to f ind her f irst. “How do I get there?” I said. “To the place where Calliope and Cronus are. I know you don’t want me to go, but—”

  “You’ll go even if I don’t tell you,” said James. “I don’t know where it is—honest. No one does. The elder gods can f ind it, but they made sure I couldn’t, and the location was kept secret from the others for obvious reasons. The only other person who knew where it was—” He stopped.

  “Who?” I said. “Please, James, I don’t care what I have to do. I’ll wander through the whole Underworld if that’s what it takes.”

  “I know you will,” he said with a tight smile. “That’s what I love about you. But, Kate, you have to understand—”

  “What I understand is that if someone doesn’t try to stop them, Calliope and Cronus are going to rip the world apart, and everyone’s going to die,” I said. “I don’t care what I have to do. I’ll do it.”

  James sighed. “The only other person who knows where the gate is—” He paused. “It’s Persephone.”

  CH A P T ER SI X

  LA KE OF FIR E

  Persephone. Of course. Out of all the gods who had ever existed and every person who had ever walked through the Underworld, it had to be her.

  I rubbed my sweaty palms on my thighs and wished for the f irst time that I’d never heard of Eden. My life would have been destroyed, and my mother would be dead by now, but at least the lives of billions of people wouldn’t potentially rest on me swallowing my pride and f inding the one person I hoped I would never have to meet. The person my husband was still in love with.

  My sister.

  “Isn’t there someone else?” I said with a croak.

  “Henry,” said James. “But he’s a little preoccupied right now.”

  I gave him a look. “So what? I track down Persephone out of the millions of souls—”

  “Billions,” said James. “Possibly over a hundred by now.

  I haven’t been keeping track.”

  “So I track down Persephone out of the billions of souls in the Underworld?” I said. “How long is that going to take?”

  “As much time as it does. Finding a needle in a haystack is easy if you have enough time to look through it piece by piece.”

  “But we don’t have that much time.”

  James pushed himself off the wall and strode toward us.

  “Then I guess it’s a good thing you have me.” I eyed him. “What do you mean?”

  “He means he’s going with you,” said Ava. “So am I.” Despite her bravery, I heard the tremble in her voice.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I said. “Either of you. I appreciate the offer, but you heard what the others said. The chances of getting out of this alive—”

  “Will be much better if I come with you,” said James.

  “Just me. We don’t have time to sit around and debate this.”

  “I’m coming,” said Ava f irmly. “Three’s better than two, and I won’t be any help here anyway. I don’t know anything about tactics or whatever it is they’re going to do.” James sized her up, and she squared her shoulders, as if daring him to refuse her again. “You know that’s not a good idea,” he said. “The whole point of this is to get Persephone to help us, and you being there won’t do a damn thing to convince her.”

  Ava snorted, and some of the color returned to her cheeks. “What, and you being there will? You know I’ll follow you even if you tell me not to, so you might as well not waste your breath. Come on, Kate.” She took me by the arm and led me out into the corridor. I didn’t f ight her, too consumed with the newest addition to the ever-growing mountain of problems.

  Not only did we have to f ind Persephone, but somehow I had to talk her into risking the rest of her eternal life to help the family she’d abandoned. This wasn’t some walk through Central Park. This was the four of us facing the most powerful being that had ever existed.

  And I had absolutely no idea what to say to convince Persephone to join us.

  We didn’t bother with goodbyes. The others must have known James and Ava were going with me when they didn’t return to the throne room, and none of them came to f ind us while we packed. James and Ava—and me, once I learned how—could create what we needed, and none of us needed to eat in the Underworld, not in our immortal bodies. James was adamant we bring supplies anyway, including a change of clothes and sneakers I hadn’t had time to break in. James and Ava were used to wandering the world with only the clothe
s on their back. I’d never hiked farther than a few miles before.

  At the last minute, I slipped the f lower Henry had made me, the one with pink quartz petals and pearls, into my pocket. It was all I had of his other than what was in his wardrobe.

  Leaving Pogo behind was the hardest part. I cuddled him to my chest and buried my nose in his fur for a few brief moments before we left, and when I set him down on the bed, his liquid eyes nearly broke my heart.

  “He’ll be okay,” said Ava, leading me out of the bedroom. “The others will take good care of him, and he’ll be here waiting when we all come back.”

  Except I might never come back to the palace again.

  Not if I had any chance of setting Henry free. Other than offering Calliope a trade, there was nothing the three of us could do to f ight her that the others hadn’t tried, and I was pretty damn sure she wouldn’t give in out of the goodness of her heart.

  I tore my eyes away from Pogo, and he barked as the door clicked shut. Taking a deep breath, I swallowed my tears, refusing to let myself cry. He would be f ine, and Henry would be there to take care of him if I didn’t return. Like Persephone’s garden, at least he would have something to remember me by.

  That was such a horrible thought that I immediately pushed it out of my mind. I wasn’t going to die. I didn’t want to, and James and Ava wouldn’t let me anyway. There had to be another way, and we would have time to f igure it out.

  I didn’t look back as we started down the path that led away from the palace, between the columns of black rock.

  The cavern was huge, and by the time we reached the wall, my leg ached so badly that every step felt like I was walking on knives.

  “What now?” I said. There was nowhere to go, and as far as I could tell, there were no hidden caves or tunnels.

  “Remember that trip we took down here?” said James, taking my hand. His warm palm dwarfed mine, and I glanced at Ava to see if she’d noticed, but she was busy staring at the cavern wall.