The Goddess Test Boxed Set: Goddess Interrupted\The Goddess Inheritance\The Goddess Legacy (61 page)

I opened my mouth to protest, but my mother beat me to it.
“Kate can fight if she wants,” she said. Her eyes locked on mine. “If Henry
won't teach her, I will.”

Henry scowled, but Walter was the first to speak up. “Very
well. If that is what Kate wants, so be it.” He touched my mother's shoulder and
turned to join the others on the opposite side of the circle.

I stared after him. That was it? After everything that had
happened, that was all he was willing to give me? No offer to teach me
himself—not that I expected one, and I would've turned it down anyway, but
still. No attempt to insist I stay safe. Just permission to go out and die if
that was what I wanted.

Maybe if I hadn't already been so on edge, it wouldn't have
stung as much as it did. My mother knew I would've gone anyway. She knew who I
was, and she knew it was pointless to try to argue. Walter didn't know me
though, and if he was really any sort of father, he should have cared.

“Kate,” started Henry, but I stood, pulling my hand from his.
He could only shield me for so long before he paid the price, and I wasn't going
to let that happen. I had to learn how to control my abilities. I had to learn
how to protect myself, if only so I could protect Henry and our son.

“You need to rest,” I said sharper than I intended. Leaning
down, I kissed his cheek, a silent apology. “I love you. I just need to be alone
right now.”

He caught my lips with his, and a long moment passed before he
finally broke away. After giving him a small smile, I ducked my head and hurried
off toward the suites, silently praying no one would follow me. Of course they
would, though. If Henry didn't, James would, and if James didn't—

“Sweetheart.”

If James didn't, my mother would.

I slowed to give her the chance to catch up, but I didn't stop.
What would she do if she found out about the deal I'd made with Cronus? Would
she help? Tell the rest of the council? I couldn't be sure, and that mistrust
hurt like hell. I should've been able to confide in my own mother without
worrying about the consequences.

“I just want to be alone,” I mumbled, but she draped her arm
across my shoulders and fell into step beside me. I didn't pull away. I
couldn't. Even if the anxiety of waiting and worrying for her to come back was
gone, there would be a next time. There was always a next time, and I didn't
want to beat myself up about turning her away now like I had before I'd left
with James.

“You shouldn't be alone right now,” she said, and there was
something underneath her words I didn't understand.

She was right, though. If I had my way, I'd never be alone
again, but I no longer had any guarantees. If the worst happened—if the council
didn't discover a way to stop Calliope and imprison Cronus once more—then I
might have Milo, but I would be Cronus's plaything for eternity. And I would
rather Milo die and spend the rest of forever oblivious in the Underworld than
be subjected to the same fate.

My mother led me to her bedroom, and as she entered, the
branches of her bed frame flowered with magenta blossoms. I sat down on the edge
of her mattress and inhaled. They smelled like summertime.

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you about your father sooner,” she
said, rubbing my back, and I let myself relax under her touch. After years of
wondering when her last moment would be, I no longer had it in me to be angry
with her.

“It's all right,” I said, although it wasn't. “Why didn't you
tell me?”

“Because I selfishly wanted to keep you for myself.” Settling
in behind me, she combed her fingers through my hair and began to braid it. “I
loved our life together. I missed the council, but having you more than made up
for it. I hadn't been that happy since—”

She stopped short, and I stared at my hands. She didn't need to
finish for me to know what she was going to say. “Since you had Persephone,” I
mumbled.

“Yes. Since I had Persephone.” She shook out the braid she'd
managed in those few seconds and began again. “I raised you as a mortal because
I believed that kind of life, away from this grandiose existence, would give you
the best possible chance of passing the tests. But along the way, I discovered
how much happier I was when it was just the two of us lost in the sea of
humanity. And if I ever allowed Walter into our lives, that would have
shattered.”

“But if Walter's immortal, and you're immortal, then why wasn't
I?” I said. It seemed like such a small, unimportant question in the scheme of
things, but I needed small and unimportant right now.

“Because I had you in my mortal form.” She began on a smaller
braid, weaving it together with the larger one. “That was part of my bargain
with the council. Demigods—and you have always been a demigod, darling—are not
immortal, but they can earn immortality, as can mortals.”

“Why have Henry marry a mortal to begin with?” I said. “Why
not—I don't know. Why not just have me and marry me off to him?”

She laughed softly. “And how well would that have gone over, do
you think? I learned my lesson with Persephone. Henry wanted a willing queen,
one who understood the price of death, and he insisted on mortal candidates. The
council did consider having you born immortal, of course, since the others died
very mortal deaths, but Calliope was the one to insist that you not be born a
goddess.” Her voice dropped as if she'd just realized what it meant, two decades
too late. “I thought it was because she wanted the same things as Henry—that she
did not want to push another girl toward a marriage and a role they did not
want, only to once again end in disaster.”

That wasn't why though, of course. She'd wanted competition she
could kill off. “Did Walter know you were going to get sick?” I whispered.

“What? No, honey, no.” Her hands slowed. “I was never supposed
to get sick. You were supposed to be older. You were supposed to have the chance
to live, to choose a life for yourself. Deception was never supposed to be part
of it. I planned on telling you on your twentieth birthday, and at that point
you would've taken the tests if you'd wanted to. When I found out I had cancer,
I went to the council, and they decided to speed up the schedule. I held on so
long because Theo helped me. None of that was planned, I swear.”

I nodded. She wouldn't lie to me, not about something like
that. And everything she went through, everything she'd suffered—no one in their
right mind would put themselves through that for a stupid test.

I would've never passed if she hadn't developed cancer, though.
I would've never been so afraid of death that I was willing to give up six
months of my life to save Ava's. Had the council known that? Had they gone
behind my mother's back to give me a fighting chance?

I pushed the thought from my mind. It was ridiculous. Not even
the council was capable of that. I hoped.

“Walter knew I was alone,” I said. “Why didn't he come help
me?”

“Because he's the King of the Gods, honey, and as much as he
might love his family, he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.” She
finished my braid, and after tying it off with a bit of ribbon from her
nightstand, she picked a magenta flower and tucked it into the end. “Walter has
never been much of a father to any of his children.”

“So I've been told.” I turned to face her. “What would've
happened if I hadn't passed?”

“You know what would have happened, darling. Your memory would
have been erased, and you would have gone on living your life.”

“But you would have still been alive,” I said. “Your mortal
body would have died, but you would still be there. And you would've visited me,
right?”

My mother's eyes became unfocused. “Perhaps in your dreams, if
the council allowed it.”

I inhaled sharply, and pain worse than anything Cronus could
throw at me burrowed into my chest. She would have left me. My own mother would
have willingly abandoned me if I hadn't passed.

Then what? I would've lived the rest of my mortal life thinking
I was completely alone. I would've been, too, because dreaming about my
mother—if the council
allowed
me to—wasn't the same
as having her with me. She knew what I'd gone through, taking care of her and
watching her slowly fade away all those years. She knew that I would have done
anything to give her more time to stay with me. And she would have abandoned me
like that anyway.

I stood, my legs unsteady. “I need to go.”

“Where?” said my mother, standing with me, but I stepped back.
Confusion and hurt flashed in her eyes, and I looked away. She was my rock. My
constant. She'd sworn she'd had me because she wanted to, and I believed her. I
wasn't Persephone's replacement—but only because I'd passed those tests. If I
hadn't, I would've been nothing but a disappointment, too, and she would have
left me exactly like she'd left Persephone. Like Persephone had left her.

I needed my mother's love and support more than ever, but for
the first time in my life, I doubted her. And it killed me.

“I'm going to get Milo back,” I said. “Someone around here
deserves to have parents who love them more than anything, including their own
immortality.”

I headed toward the door, tears stinging my eyes. Silently I
prayed she would tell me to stop, that she would hug me and insist she would
have defied the council whether or not they'd allowed her to see me. That she
would have been there for me no matter what.

“Kate.”

My heart caught in my throat.

“I'm sorry. I love you.”

I blinked rapidly. Not enough to have stayed with me for the
length of my measly mortal life, though. Not if it'd meant disobeying the
council. “I love you, too,” I mumbled, and without saying another word, I walked
out of the bedroom and closed the door behind me.

A soft hum filled the sunset nursery when I arrived. I'd
rehearsed over and over what I wanted to tell Cronus, my last-ditch effort
against the impending war. Rhea might have refused to help us, but that didn't
mean battle was inevitable, and I had to try. As my vision adjusted to the
darkness, however, I let out a strangled gasp, all of my carefully formed
phrases forgotten. Calliope paced back and forth through the nursery, holding
Milo to her chest.

I lunged for her, but as always, I went straight through her
and landed half a foot away from Cronus. For the first time since I'd escaped,
he wore his face instead of Henry's. So he'd absorbed everything I'd said to
James, after all. He stayed silent, only quirking his lips. At least someone
found my rage amusing.

“Of course Mother will heal him,” said Calliope, her brow
creased with worry. “I know she has her reservations about fighting, but she
wouldn't let one of us die like that, right?”

She looked to Cronus for confirmation, but he said nothing.
Good. That meant he didn't know.

“Father, I
need
Henry. Can't you
undo it?”

“Perhaps you ought to have taken that into consideration before
you attempted to kill him,” said Cronus neutrally, and Calliope tightened her
grip around Milo, her scowl deepening.

“I was aiming for his shoulder, not his heart. And he wasn't
supposed to
leave.
You swore you'd heal him.”

She hadn't meant to nearly kill him? I narrowed my eyes. Of
course she'd been bluffing this whole time. She'd been in love with Henry for
millennia—she wasn't the type to give up on that. Like Cronus wanted me by his
side, Calliope wanted Henry by hers.

“Then it seems as if things did not go according to plan,” said
Cronus plainly. “You cannot hold me responsible for that.”

Milo started to cry, and Calliope let out a frustrated sigh.
“Callum, be
quiet.
Mother's trying to think.”

“His name isn't Callum, and I'm his mother, you bitch,” I
snarled, but of course she didn't hear me. She deposited the baby into Cronus's
waiting arms.

“Here. He likes you better anyway. I need Henry, Father, and
you need to get him back for me. He can't die.”

Milo quieted. At least Calliope didn't have him anymore. “If he
is in Olympus, it is out of my control,” said Cronus.

“Then you'd better hope he isn't,” she said.

Cronus tilted his head. “You dare speak to me in such a manner?
I am your father, your ruler, your king, and yet you treat me with as little
respect as you do your enemies.”

To my immense satisfaction, Calliope froze, her mouth forming a
small circle. “I didn't—” She paused, flustered. Served her right. “You know I
respect you, Father, more than anything in the world. I just— Nothing's going
right
anymore. Henry was supposed to be mine by
now, but Ava couldn't be bothered to fulfill her promise when he was here
rescuing that hag.”

I stilled. What else had Ava promised Calliope?

“Such insolent behavior will not get you what you want, my
daughter,” said Cronus. “Surely you must know that by now.”

She nodded, and for half a second, she appeared almost meek.
“You're still on my side, right, Daddy? You won't stop loving me, too?”

I could've thrown up at her saccharine manipulation, but Cronus
didn't bat an eye. “No, daughter, I will not. We are in this together, and it
would serve you well to remember that.”

“Of course.” Calliope bowed her head, the first sign of
deference she'd shown since I'd arrived. “I'm sorry for upsetting you,
Father.”