The Goddess Test Boxed Set: Goddess Interrupted\The Goddess Inheritance\The Goddess Legacy (13 page)

“They are,” he said. “Did you know they move?”

“Stars? Sure.” Was this part of a lesson, too? “You see different stars during different times of the year.”

He eased us both down onto the bench, so close that I was practically sitting on top of him, but being near him was much nicer than I wanted to admit. I wasn't willing to give it up yet.

“Not through the seasons,” he said. “Through the millennia. See that star there?”

He pointed upward, and I could barely see the direction he was pointing in, let alone tell which one he was talking about. “Yeah.”

If he knew I was lying, he indulged me anyway. “When I met Persephone, that star wasn't part of that constellation.”

“Really?” My oversaturated mind barely processed this information, let alone what it implied. “I didn't think they did that.”

“Everything changes with time,” said Henry, his breath warm against my ear. “One must simply be patient.”

Yes, I thought, everything changed with time. That was the problem, wasn't it?

But whatever Henry was trying to do to take my mind off
the test worked. That night, instead of worrying about nymphs and heroes, my mother and I wandered through Central Park, visiting the zoo and riding the carousel round and round until we were both dizzy from laughter. I slept better than I had in days, and when I woke up, I was smiling.

 

The next morning I was too nervous to eat, but Calliope made me swallow a piece of toast covered in strawberry jam anyhow. Even that threatened to come up as I walked to the classroom, and it was through sheer willpower alone that I managed to keep it down.

I could do this. Henry was depending on me, and he would never let them purposely make me fail without giving me a fair shot. I'd studied, and this wasn't rocket science. It was mythology. How hard could it be?

“Ready?” said Irene once I was seated.

“No,” I said flatly. I'd never be ready for this. Instead of showing me the tiniest bit of sympathy, she laughed and set the test down in front of me. A knot of horror caught in my throat when I flipped to the final question. Twenty pages.

“Two hundred questions,” she said, as if reading my mind. “You can only miss twenty.”

“How long do I have?” I choked.

“As long as you need.”

Her kind smile wasn't the least bit reassuring. Summoning every last ounce of determination I had, I picked up my pencil and began.

 

Three hours later, I sat anxiously in the corner as Irene went through my exam. I'd gone through every question in my mind over and over again, constantly second-guessing my answers.
What if I'd mixed up Athena and Artemis? Hera and Hestia? What if I'd studied too much and accidentally mixed up places and stories and the intricate timelines?

What if I'd failed?

Irene set down her pen, her face passive as she crossed the room and silently handed me the test. My hands shook so badly that I was afraid I'd drop it, and nothing in her expression gave away my score. I forced myself to look down. For a long moment, my eyes wouldn't focus on the number scrawled on top.

173.

“I'm sorry,” she said, but I didn't hear her. Instead I stumbled toward the door and out of the room, my vision too blurry for me to see where I was going. Flying past Calliope and Ella, I barely noticed them, instead dashing through the first door I saw and bursting into the garden. Ignoring the voices calling my name, I kicked off my shoes and ran toward the forest, the biting wind numbing my skin.

I'd failed.

I couldn't breathe.

My lungs burned and my body ached with the effort of running. I was in the middle of the forest now, though still within the confines of Henry's property. The hedge walls were nowhere in sight, but those weren't what I was looking for. I wanted to find the river.

Seven points below what I'd needed—seven questions that were the difference between success and failure, staying and leaving, life and death for my mother. Life and death for Henry. It didn't matter how comfortable I was here or whether or not I liked being around him. If he'd just wanted someone to spend time with, he could've chosen anyone, but he'd chosen me—he depended on me—and now I'd failed him. The only reason I was here was to pass those tests, and I couldn't even manage that much.

I don't know how long it took me, sprinting through the woods. My feet were bleeding and bruised, and more than once I stumbled, hurting my ankles and elbows and knees, but still I pushed on.

I'd failed. It was over, and I wouldn't have another shot.

I needed to see my mother before she died. I needed to tell her goodbye, even if she couldn't hear me in that body anymore. It would have to do though—I'd broken my side of the bargain, and therefore Henry had no reason to uphold his. There was no guarantee I would see her if I fell asleep, and I needed to say goodbye before it was too late.

Finally I found it, the river where this whole mess had started. Limping on a twisted ankle, I followed it upstream until the opening in the hedge appeared. It seemed smaller than I remembered, and I had no idea how I was going to get to the other side, but I had to do this. I would apologize to Henry later.

Wiping my dirty, tear-stained cheeks with the back of my hand, I set my bare foot in the water and gasped. It was freezing. The current was strong, and I knew if I slipped, I wouldn't be able to swim my way to safety. Not this time. Still, I had to try. One foot in front of the other, that's all it took. “Kate.”

I nearly pitched forward at the sound of Henry's voice. I was a few feet away from shore, balancing precariously on the same slippery rocks that had killed Ava, and I barely managed to catch myself. “Leave me alone.” I didn't sound nearly as vicious as I'd intended.

“I'm afraid I can't do that.”

“I failed.” I didn't dare risk turning to look at him.

“Yes, Irene told me. That still does not explain why you're risking life and limb to get through a hole in the hedge. If you want to leave, the front gate is much more convenient.”

My feet were numb, making me even clumsier than before. “I need to see my mother.”

Without warning, Henry's arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me against him. Before I could protest, my feet touched land.

“Let me
go!
”

He held on long enough for me to regain my balance. I pulled away from him, trembling, though whether it was from the cold or from how furious I was, I didn't know. “If you leave,” he said patiently, “your mother will die. I did not think you wanted that.”

I opened and shut my mouth. “But—but I failed.”

He gave me a curious look. “I am not so strict that I punish failure with death.”

“But our deal—you said you'd keep my mother alive while I was still here. I can't stay here anymore, not when I failed the test.”

Henry was still, and then his expression softened, as if he finally understood. “Kate…is that all this is about?”

“You said yourself I couldn't fail any of the tests,” I said uncertainly.

“You cannot fail any of the seven tests the council will place before you. The exam Irene gave you was not one of those.” He smiled hollowly. “So far, you are doing beautifully.”

My mouth went dry. “So far?”

“Yes.” He seemed amused, and I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or to wipe the smug look off his face. “So far, you have faced three. Only one is complete, but you were impeccable.”

How was it possible that they were testing me without my knowledge? When I opened my mouth to ask, he neatly cut me off.

“You must be freezing—here.” He draped his coat over my
shoulders, and I clung to it, soaking in its warmth. “Let's go back, shall we?”

I nodded, my hysterics coming to an end. Henry wrapped his arms around me delicately, as if he were afraid I'd break. “Close your eyes,” he murmured, and I did.

This time, when I opened them, I was only marginally surprised to find myself in my bedroom. Henry stood beside me. “I see you are adjusting to the way I travel.”

“Uh-huh.” I swallowed. It was still disorienting. “I should…um…” I gestured down at my dress. It was torn and caked with mud.

“It seems that one is ruined. Perhaps we ought to find a replacement.”

“I have tons, really.” I glanced at my wardrobe, blanching. “Ella probably won't even notice.”

“Do not argue,” said Henry. “Change and ice your ankle for a few minutes. I will return shortly to fetch you.”

Sighing inwardly, I decided it was useless. Just like Ella, he seemed to be determined to keep me up to my ears in itchy dresses. I couldn't wait for summer to arrive, if for no other reason than to finally be able to wear jeans again.

Before walking out the door, Henry turned. “Kate?”

I scowled down at the maze of buttons that lined the ruined dress, my fingers still shaking as I tried to undo them. “Yeah?”

“I only scored 164.”

 

In the end, I'd needed Ella's help to unbutton the monstrosity she'd forced me into that morning. While she seemed sad to see it go, I couldn't have been happier—until I saw what she intended to replace it with.

Limping down the corridor of an unfamiliar wing, I leaned on Henry for support and tried my best not to scratch at the rough fabric. It was completely unfair. Henry got to wear pants—even Ava had the option, if she wanted—but with Ella in charge of my wardrobe, I was stuck in costumes from the dark ages. She may have thought they were beautiful, but I would have preferred a toga to those instruments of torture. No amount of wearing them was going to make me like them. Ever. And Ella knew that. It was why she did it, I was sure of it.

While I wondered whether or not it'd be a mark against me if I ran around in my underwear, Henry opened the door to a room I'd never been inside before. At first I couldn't make much out from behind him, but when he stepped aside, my jaw dropped, and the cloud of misery that had plagued me since seeing my score dissipated.

The suite was stuffed with clothes hanging off of racks, arranged by size and color and God only knew what else. They spanned so many eras that it looked like a costume shop, and there were dresses and shoes and shawls and—

My knees went weak.

Sweaters and
jeans
.

“Ella mentioned you did not feel comfortable in the outfits she chose for you,” said Henry. “As a reward for failing a test with a higher score than my own, I believe a new wardrobe is in order.”

I stared at him and then at Ella, who gave me a rare smile. Were they for real?

“Oh, my God!”

I wasn't the one to say it. Instead the high-pitched squeal came from behind me, and when I whirled around, Ava stood
there, her mouth hanging open. Calliope lingered nearby, looking as excited as I felt.

“Are these all for
you?
” blurted Ava, moving past Ella to stand with me.

“I think so,” I said with a grin. “Want some?”

She stared at me like I'd grown another head. “Do I
want
some?”

I laughed and looked at Henry. “Can she?”

“Of course.”

That was all she needed to hear. In an instant she'd disappeared, sorting through the archaic dresses I had no intention of touching. Instead of joining her, I turned to Calliope and Ella. “You two can have whatever you want, too,” I said, glancing at Henry. “If that's all right with you, I mean.”

He nodded. Just like Ava, Ella and Calliope rushed into the room, leaving me behind with Henry. He gestured toward my ankle. “Are you able to make it through the room without assistance?”

“I'll be fine,” I said, eyeing the piles of sweaters. Even from a distance, they beckoned. As much as I liked being near Henry, I was still embarrassed about my breakdown, and I didn't want him to think I was incapable of getting through the day without him, even though he did seem to know exactly how to make things better.

I'd limped halfway across the room before I realized he was trailing a few feet behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I frowned. “Henry, really, I'm fine. It doesn't even hurt.”

“I have no intention of helping you walk,” he said in an innocent voice I wasn't buying. “I was merely going to offer to carry your things.”

“If you say so.” I raised an eyebrow, but while I didn't want him to know it, I was grateful he was there.

That night, long after Henry left, I was on the edge of sleep when a soft knock on my door pulled me away. Groaning, I rubbed my eyes and rolled out of bed, hobbling to the door. I'd spent all evening looking forward to telling my mother that I'd passed a test and hadn't disappointed Henry yet, so whoever was on the other side of the door had to have a damn good reason for interrupting.

“What?” I said as I cracked open the door, squinting against the light from the hallway.

It was Ava. “Are you still awake?” she whispered, and I glared at her.

“No, I'm sleepwalking.”

“Oh.” She eyed me as if she were trying to figure out if I was telling the truth or not. “As long as you're up, c'mon—I want to show you something.”

She reached out to take my hand, and I stood my ground. “The only place I want to go is back to bed.”

“Too bad.” Ava gripped my hand so hard that trying to pull away would've likely resulted in broken fingers, and I was having enough trouble with my ankle already. “I'll get you back to bed before the sun comes up, I promise.”

Not the most comforting reassurance, but she wasn't giving me much of a choice. Finally, huffing loudly so she couldn't miss it, I followed her, the carpet rough against my bare feet.

“Where are we going?” I said, but Ava shushed me as we turned the corner. There were guards stationed up and down the hallways leading to my rooms, and at least three of them had seen us so far, so I had no idea why she felt the need to sneak around.

The dull ache in my ankle turned into sharp pain, and I struggled to keep up with her, but she didn't slow down. At last, when we reached a dark corridor, she stopped and pointed to a door ten feet away.

It was different from the others in the manor, made of dark wood with ornate carvings that created a scene I couldn't quite make out. Light spilled out from the other side, and Ava tiptoed toward it, gesturing for me to follow.

This time I didn't ask any questions. I moved with her clumsily, keeping a hand against the wall to keep myself from tripping and announcing our presence to whoever was behind the door. The closer we got, the clearer the scene on the door became, and soon I realized what it was. On the top half of the door was a beautiful meadow, with tiny flowers carved into the wood and trees on either side. Somehow the artist had managed to make it look sunny, and it reminded me so strongly of Central Park that a lump caught in my throat.

But underneath it, the scene changed. A layer of earth separated the meadow from a dark river that flowed underneath, and beside it there was a delicate garden. Instead of growing from the soil, it grew from jagged stone. The trees weren't trees; they were made of something solid, and even though it was only a piece of art, I could tell they weren't meant to be alive. And in the center of the picture stood pillars of jewels forming an arch above a single flower, tiny and weak in its surroundings.

As spellbound as I was by the beautiful carvings, I overheard voices leaking through the crack in the door. At first I couldn't make them out properly, but Ava nudged me closer, and gathering my courage, I peeked into the room.

Henry stood with his back to me, his shoulders hunched as he stared at something I couldn't see. He turned enough so I
could make out his profile, and something inside of me ached when I saw that his eyes were red.

But he wasn't the one talking. The second voice was higher than his, but still masculine and familiar, and whoever it was spoke in hushed words laced with urgency and frustration.

“You can't keep her here.” I couldn't see who was talking, but I was certain I recognized his voice. “That was part of the deal. You can't force her to stay if she doesn't want to.”

I inched closer. Underneath me, the floorboard creaked, and I froze. From my vantage point I could see Henry also still, and my heart beat so loudly I was sure he must've been able to hear it. But after a few tense seconds, he spoke, and I exhaled.

“She did not want to leave,” he said tiredly. “She thought our deal had finished because she failed the exam.”

“You still stopped her,” said the second voice. It was achingly familiar, but he spoke so low it was hard to place. “She told you twice to leave her alone, and you ignored her.”

“Because she did not understand.” Henry glared over his shoulder to a spot behind the door where the other stood.

“It doesn't matter.” He spoke viciously, and I glanced at Ava, but she lingered by the corner now. “You prevented her from leaving.”

“I can argue semantics with you all night, but the fact remains that she has not left the property,” said Henry. “You have no right to ask the other members of the council to terminate the deal.”

“I do, and I will.” A shadow passed over me, and I shrank back. “I won't let you force her to stay like you did Persephone. She isn't your prisoner, and you aren't her keeper. You can't manipulate her into this situation and then act surprised when she hates you so much she wants to leave.”