Goddess Interrupted (20 page)

“Try telling him that,” said Ingrid wryly. “He’s always been that way, you know. Convinced he isn’t worthy of being loved, even though I grew up with him. We used to take walks together. He wasn’t in this form—I mean, he looked like a boy around my age, and for a long time I thought he was. He was my best friend. We used to wander the streets together, and we’d talk about everything—steal apples from the merchants and get into so much trouble.” The skin around her eyes wrinkled with happiness. “He made my miserable little life worthwhile. He told me who he really was the day I left the orphanage, and he took me to his home in the forest. It was beautiful. You’ve been there?”

I nodded. “Eden Manor.”

“It was the first real home I’d had since my parents died.” Ingrid took my hand and threaded her slim fingers through mine. Her bones felt brittle, like a bird’s. As if squeezing too hard would break them. “He told me about Persephone. And he told me that while she was his past, he wanted me to be his future.” She shook her head. “It’s such a ridiculous thing to remember, but I do. And every time he comes to visit me, I think about that and how he wasn’t just saying it because he thought I needed to hear it. He loved all of us in his own way, Kate. Me, the others who died, you—but look at how many of us he’s lost. Look at what he went through with Persephone. He thinks he’s responsible for all of it, you know, and that guilt isn’t going to go away overnight. Can you blame him for holding back?”

I swallowed. No, I couldn’t. And I’d had no idea he’d loved the other girls like he claimed to love me. All of that loss…everything I’d gone through with my mother a dozen times over, but Henry didn’t have cancer to blame. “You should have passed,” I said softly. “It sounds like you two would have been really happy together.”

“Probably.” Ingrid’s smile faded as she focused on the running water. “But I didn’t, and there’s no going back now. I want him to be happy, Kate.”

“Me, too,” I mumbled. “I’m trying. I really am, but it feels like he doesn’t want me.”

“He’s hurting. Henry’s never been very good with expressing his emotions, and sometimes that takes patience. Not that I think you don’t have patience,” she said quickly. “Only that he takes more than the usual amount.”

“I’m staying,” I said. “For now, at least. But I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to fix this.”

“What if it doesn’t need fixing?” Ingrid focused on me, her green eyes wide. “What if it’s already perfect underneath the surface, and the surface is what’s getting in the way?”

I blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“You think the problem is that Henry doesn’t love you,” said Ingrid, and I shrugged. “But I’m telling you—
everyone’s
told you that he does. So you have two choices—either accept that you’re wrong and let Henry love you in his own way, or force both of you to be miserable until you realize he loves you anyway.”

I snorted. “That doesn’t sound like much of a choice.”

“Of course it is. You can choose to be happy or you can choose to be miserable, and that’s completely within your power. Henry doesn’t have to do a thing.”

“And what if you’re wrong?” I said. “Or what if you’re overestimating how he feels?”

“Then you’ll give Henry the chance to really fall in love with you.” Ingrid beamed. “That’d be fun, too, wouldn’t it?”

I ran my fingertips across the cold surface of the ruby. It was even shaped like an apple. “He’s busy with the battle. They all are.”

“Not for much longer though. And you can either make excuses or you can suck it up and see things from his perspective, and you’ll both be happier for it. You don’t have to do anything differently. Just think about what he’s going through, and be yourself and let both of you have the chance to be happy. Everything else will fall into place.”

I was silent. That was what I’d been trying to do, but nothing had changed. That night we’d spent together in Eden Manor—aphrodisiac or no, my desire to be with him had been all-consuming, and it was the first honest thing I’d let myself feel since I’d arrived at the manor. That passion was real. And the way he’d kissed me—

I’d been so sure it was real for him, too. I wanted that back. I wanted those kisses, those touches, the way he’d looked at me. I wanted to be that person to him again.

“What do you think would happen if I just walked up to him and kissed him?” I said, and Ingrid laughed.

“I think he’d let you. What if he’s waiting for you to do that, Kate? What if he’s waiting for a sign the same way you are, and you’re both circling each other, waiting, waiting, waiting?”

“Then I guess one of us better get a move on,” I muttered, and Ingrid hugged me.

“That’s my girl.”

I would have been better at this if he helped, if he told me what he was feeling instead of leaving it to my imagination, but I tried anyway. From that afternoon on, instead of worrying about the moments of silence between us, I watched him. He wasn’t floundering for something to say or ignoring me. His eyes were distant and his brow furrowed, and I finally let myself admit that it wasn’t because of me. It was the battle, Calliope, Cronus—anything but me. Because with me, at least he smiled.

And instead of focusing on every time he didn’t touch me, I burned into my memory every time he did. His arm around me as he slept, the brush of his fingertips against my cheek, even the way he looked at me after a particularly long day. He didn’t kiss me; he didn’t hug me. He didn’t tell me he loved me again. But eventually I let myself hope that he did anyway. He was trying in his own way, and that had to be enough for now. Because if it wasn’t, we would both be miserable, and he didn’t deserve that. Neither did I.

As the final week before the solstice passed, I waited for the opportunity to do as I’d promised and kiss him properly. But Henry spent more and more time locked in meetings with the other council members, and by the time he came to bed, he collapsed with little more than a good-night. I hadn’t realized he could get tired, but when I asked my mother during the few minutes a day I got to see her, her answer was succinct.

“We don’t grow tired doing normal human things. It’s when we use our powers that we drain ourselves.”

That explained why I didn’t seem to need sleep anymore, though when Henry was with me, I managed. He needed more than he allowed himself to get, and I refused to wake him early or keep him up late no matter how badly I wanted him to know how I felt. Now wasn’t the time, and it wouldn’t be until after the battle. If there was even an
after the battle
at all.

I didn’t let myself think about that part. He had to survive; there was no other option. If Cronus hadn’t killed him in the cavern, he wouldn’t kill him now. He wouldn’t kill any of the gods. I had to believe that everything would be okay.

In the hours before the winter solstice, the council gathered, their thrones forming a circle that aligned with the black and white diamond ones for Henry and me. I was hesitant to take mine, since I’d had nothing to do with planning the battle and wasn’t going to participate, but Henry insisted.

Before the meeting began, Persephone perched on the arm of our mother’s chair as if she’d done it a thousand times before. She eyed me, and I fidgeted when I realized that my throne had probably belonged to her when she’d been queen. Perfect.

“Brothers and sisters, sons and daughters,” said Walter. He looked around the room gravely, taking time to examine each face, and he skipped Calliope’s empty throne as if it wasn’t there. “We have spent months anticipating this night, and finally it is here.”

Henry sat rigidly, his chin raised and his expression blank. The bags under his eyes were purple, as bad as my mother’s had been in her final year of life, and the lines in his face were deeper than they’d ever been before. Dread coursed through me, and I forced myself not to think of the possibility that he would collapse in battle and die anyway. I should’ve given him more time to sleep. I should’ve insisted on another room so I wouldn’t interrupt him. I should’ve done so many things I hadn’t, things Ingrid and Persephone would have thought of.

“Our enemy is strong, there is no denying that,” said Walter. “But we have beaten him once, and I am confident we will succeed again.”

The corner of Henry’s mouth twitched. Walter was lying. Even I knew that the chances of them succeeding without Calliope were low, and she was locked in a room deep inside the palace, uncooperative after all this time. Whatever she had done during the first war had been the lynchpin in securing their victory, and without her, every single one of them was planning for defeat. All I could hope for was that they wouldn’t push themselves past the point of no return.

“I would like to propose a toast,” said Walter, and beside him, Xander gestured. Wineglasses appeared in front of each of us, floating in midair. “To everyone here, with my deepest love and affection. Whatever happens tonight, know that I am proud of each of you. We are family, and none of you will be forgotten.”

Nausea washed over me, and it was all I could do to murmur along with the others and take a sip of wine. They were preparing to die after all. Maybe not all of them, but the possibility made me dizzy with dread. If even one of them didn’t come back…I couldn’t live with that sort of guilt.

No one said a word after that. They all sat in silence and watched the clock tick closer and closer to midnight, and I stared at the faces of everyone around me. My mother. Henry. Ava. James. They would all be risking their lives. Selfishly I wondered what would happen to me if none of them survived. Would I remain in the palace with no sure way to return to the surface, or would Cronus come after me to finish the job? If I was the only one left, I hoped he would.

Just before the clock struck midnight, Henry reached over to take my hand. His skin was warm, and unlike mine, his palm was dry. For a second, his grip tightened, and horror snaked through me. Was he saying goodbye?

“Please come back,” I whispered so only he could hear me. He nodded once, such a small gesture that I wondered if I’d imagined it, and he let go.

Henry stood, and so did the others. Across the circle, Ava held hands with Nicholas, and I looked away. I’d known the council for a year. They’d known each other since the dawn of humanity, and everything I was feeling was inconsequential compared to what they were going through.

As the clock chimed, Henry stepped into the center of the circle, and the others joined him. My mother gave me a sad smile, and I raised my hand in a silent goodbye.

When the twelfth chime rang, they were gone.

* * *

I sank against the arm of my throne, my face buried in my hands as great hiccupping sobs escaped me. Overwhelmed with helplessness, I pushed my mind toward the battle and struggled to see them. I had to know what was happening.

Someone touched my shoulder, and I jumped, nearly tripping off the platform. My vision was blurry, but I made out a blonde with her hands on her hips, and for one terrifying moment I thought it was Calliope. It would serve me right for her to kill me now while the others were away.

“It’ll be okay,” she said, and I let out an audible sigh of relief when I recognized Ava’s voice. I wiped my eyes on my sleeves, and slowly she came into focus.

“Ava?” My face grew hot when I realized she must have seen me break down like that. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with the others?”

“Someone had to make sure you didn’t run after us again,” she said, and even though she was joking, her words sucker-punched me. “Besides, I’ve never been very good at fighting. I’m more of a make love, not war kind of person. Come here, you’re a mess. How did you manage this in thirty seconds?”

A handkerchief appeared out of nowhere, and I let her wipe my cheeks and nose. It was such a motherly thing to do that my eyes filled with tears all over again, and she rubbed my back comfortingly.

“Let’s sit, shall we?” She led me over to one of the cushioned pews, avoiding the thrones altogether. “Don’t worry so much. They’re all really good at what they do, and we’ve got a great plan. They’ll be back before you know it, I promise.”

Her reassurance was nice, but she had no way of knowing, and I couldn’t swallow false hope. “If anything happens, it’ll be my fault,” I said in between sniffs. “I’m the one who caused this.”

“Oh, Kate.” Ava hugged me. “Don’t tell me you really think that. Of course this isn’t your fault. The only person to blame is Calliope, and by the time we’re done with her, she’ll never do anything bad to anyone ever again.”

“They can’t defeat Cronus without her though,” I said. “What if he kills them? Walter, he said—”

“Daddy likes being dramatic,” said Ava, and as badly as I wanted to believe her, I couldn’t. “I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but none of them will let anything bad happen to the others. What kind of family would we be if we did?”

I didn’t have an answer for that. Bad things happened. No amount of love could fix that. If it could, my mother would have never suffered through cancer. I closed my eyes and made myself relax, hoping that for once my gift would cooperate and I could see what was going on. No matter what kind of pain I’d witness without being able to help, it would be infinitely better than sitting here waiting, I was sure of it.

“Are you trying to see them?” said Ava, breaking my concentration.

I opened my eyes and nodded. There was no point in lying about it.