The Goddess Inheritance
Page 32
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.
“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.
