The Goddess Inheritance
Page 46
“Why would he?”
“Just hypothetically,” said Henry, and his fingers danced down the curve of my back. “If he replaced me, he would have to take the test, too.”
It wasn’t just hypothetically, though. Was he planning the same thing I was—to sacrifice himself to get Milo back somehow?
No, he wouldn’t do that to me, not after everything we’d been through, which made doing it to him all the more difficult. I’d find a way back to him though, no matter what it took. I rested my head against his shoulder. The silver scar from Cronus’s first attack poked out from underneath his collar, and I traced it with a featherlight touch.
“Come,” he murmured. “I want to show you something.”
Before I could say a word, the now-familiar feeling of disappearing washed over me, and the throne room faded. However, a similar room replaced it, with sky that stretched out endlessly before us.
There was something different about this, though. Before it had been easy to tell the difference between the ceiling and the floor, but in here they blended together as if it were the real thing. Unless—
I blinked. It was the real thing.
“I am not supposed to bring you here, or even be here myself,” admitted Henry. “This is the balcony outside Walter’s private quarters. It’s the pinnacle of his domain, and he is very protective of it. But there is nothing more beautiful in the world, and I wanted you to see it.”
He led me to a glass railing, and I gazed out across the infinite sky. Caught between day and dusk, the colors swirled as if they were liquid, and flames seemed to dance in the clouds. “This is incredible,” I said, stunned.
We stood there for a long moment, and at last he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me closer. “You can tell me anything, you know.”
“I know,” I said softly.
“Then tell me what has been bothering you.”
I focused on the horizon. I couldn’t lie to him. I didn’t want to, and even if I tried, he would know. “We’re in the middle of a war, and we’re both being used as pawns in ways we don’t understand.”
“That is not atypical for my brother,” said Henry with a hint of mirth.
“That’s not what I mean. We’re all on one big chessboard, aren’t we? Cronus is on one side and Walter’s on the other, using everyone like chess pieces. Except I’m not so much as a pawn on Walter’s side.”
Henry opened his mouth, but I interrupted him before he had the chance to speak.
“Don’t tell me I’m wrong. We both know I’m not. I’m useless to Walter. I’ve tried to give him information, act as an envoy, learn how to fight so I can help everyone, but he isn’t having it. Cronus though—he’s moving me around like I’m a damn king piece. One step at a time in any direction he wants, but I can never venture too far on my own, because if I do, if he loses me...”
“He will not lose the war if he loses you, if that is what you are thinking.” Henry turned so he was facing me, and he held my stare. There was something earnest and anxious in his eyes, as if he were desperate to make me understand. “You are not a king piece to him. If you are anything at all, you are a pawn. Something small and inoffensive, easily overlooked, nothing more than fodder. If he gets you where he wants you though—so deep into enemy territory that we don’t even know you’re there—then you will become more to him. But only because of the role you play, not who you are. Despite the illusion of whatever he is offering you, you will be nothing more than another piece of the game to him. Do you understand?”
I took a deep breath and released it slowly. There was no good solution to any of this. “Cronus wants me. Whatever ungodly reason he has for it, whatever he thinks of me, having me means something to him. I can’t ignore that.”
“I’m not asking you to,” said Henry. “I’m asking you to think of me, to think of Milo, and realize that you’re no good to either of us if he has you. You cannot trust a Titan.”
“Now you’re starting to sound like Walter,” I mumbled.
“He has a point about Cronus. The only person who can stop him from reneging on a deal is Rhea, and she’s already made her position on this war clear. In the meantime, it isn’t worth the risk. Milo is safe. Ava’s taking care of him, and she will not let anything happen to him.”
“She already let something happen to him, though,” I said. “And how do I know that the first chance she gets, she won’t throw him into the ocean?”
“If she does, then we ought to consider ourselves lucky,” said Henry, pulling me into another hug. “Phillip would find him, and we would have him back again.”
“But what if Calliope decides to kill Milo, after all? She has the dagger. She has Cronus. She could do it. Cronus could do it if I refuse to go to him—”
“If Cronus or Calliope threatens to kill our son, I will rip them apart with my bare hands,” said Henry. “You are not alone in this fight, Kate. Do not forget that. I have already failed you more times than I can count, and I will not do it again.”
“You haven’t—” The words caught in my throat. “You haven’t failed me.”
“You died on my watch,” he said. “And my feelings for Persephone—”
“Ancient history. You haven’t failed me, got it? And I’m not going to let you storm in there on your own.”
“Just hypothetically,” said Henry, and his fingers danced down the curve of my back. “If he replaced me, he would have to take the test, too.”
It wasn’t just hypothetically, though. Was he planning the same thing I was—to sacrifice himself to get Milo back somehow?
No, he wouldn’t do that to me, not after everything we’d been through, which made doing it to him all the more difficult. I’d find a way back to him though, no matter what it took. I rested my head against his shoulder. The silver scar from Cronus’s first attack poked out from underneath his collar, and I traced it with a featherlight touch.
“Come,” he murmured. “I want to show you something.”
Before I could say a word, the now-familiar feeling of disappearing washed over me, and the throne room faded. However, a similar room replaced it, with sky that stretched out endlessly before us.
There was something different about this, though. Before it had been easy to tell the difference between the ceiling and the floor, but in here they blended together as if it were the real thing. Unless—
I blinked. It was the real thing.
“I am not supposed to bring you here, or even be here myself,” admitted Henry. “This is the balcony outside Walter’s private quarters. It’s the pinnacle of his domain, and he is very protective of it. But there is nothing more beautiful in the world, and I wanted you to see it.”
He led me to a glass railing, and I gazed out across the infinite sky. Caught between day and dusk, the colors swirled as if they were liquid, and flames seemed to dance in the clouds. “This is incredible,” I said, stunned.
We stood there for a long moment, and at last he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me closer. “You can tell me anything, you know.”
“I know,” I said softly.
“Then tell me what has been bothering you.”
I focused on the horizon. I couldn’t lie to him. I didn’t want to, and even if I tried, he would know. “We’re in the middle of a war, and we’re both being used as pawns in ways we don’t understand.”
“That is not atypical for my brother,” said Henry with a hint of mirth.
“That’s not what I mean. We’re all on one big chessboard, aren’t we? Cronus is on one side and Walter’s on the other, using everyone like chess pieces. Except I’m not so much as a pawn on Walter’s side.”
Henry opened his mouth, but I interrupted him before he had the chance to speak.
“Don’t tell me I’m wrong. We both know I’m not. I’m useless to Walter. I’ve tried to give him information, act as an envoy, learn how to fight so I can help everyone, but he isn’t having it. Cronus though—he’s moving me around like I’m a damn king piece. One step at a time in any direction he wants, but I can never venture too far on my own, because if I do, if he loses me...”
“He will not lose the war if he loses you, if that is what you are thinking.” Henry turned so he was facing me, and he held my stare. There was something earnest and anxious in his eyes, as if he were desperate to make me understand. “You are not a king piece to him. If you are anything at all, you are a pawn. Something small and inoffensive, easily overlooked, nothing more than fodder. If he gets you where he wants you though—so deep into enemy territory that we don’t even know you’re there—then you will become more to him. But only because of the role you play, not who you are. Despite the illusion of whatever he is offering you, you will be nothing more than another piece of the game to him. Do you understand?”
I took a deep breath and released it slowly. There was no good solution to any of this. “Cronus wants me. Whatever ungodly reason he has for it, whatever he thinks of me, having me means something to him. I can’t ignore that.”
“I’m not asking you to,” said Henry. “I’m asking you to think of me, to think of Milo, and realize that you’re no good to either of us if he has you. You cannot trust a Titan.”
“Now you’re starting to sound like Walter,” I mumbled.
“He has a point about Cronus. The only person who can stop him from reneging on a deal is Rhea, and she’s already made her position on this war clear. In the meantime, it isn’t worth the risk. Milo is safe. Ava’s taking care of him, and she will not let anything happen to him.”
“She already let something happen to him, though,” I said. “And how do I know that the first chance she gets, she won’t throw him into the ocean?”
“If she does, then we ought to consider ourselves lucky,” said Henry, pulling me into another hug. “Phillip would find him, and we would have him back again.”
“But what if Calliope decides to kill Milo, after all? She has the dagger. She has Cronus. She could do it. Cronus could do it if I refuse to go to him—”
“If Cronus or Calliope threatens to kill our son, I will rip them apart with my bare hands,” said Henry. “You are not alone in this fight, Kate. Do not forget that. I have already failed you more times than I can count, and I will not do it again.”
“You haven’t—” The words caught in my throat. “You haven’t failed me.”
“You died on my watch,” he said. “And my feelings for Persephone—”
“Ancient history. You haven’t failed me, got it? And I’m not going to let you storm in there on your own.”
