“No, that isn’t the only reason he came back.” She sighed.

“When we consummated our marriage, I was the one to—

freak out.” She made a face at the expression. “We hadn’t been married twelve hours, and already I’d run back to Mother. She talked me into staying and giving it a shot, and she must have said something to Hades, because we never tried it again. I slept in a separate room, and he never pressed the issue.”

On the other side of the f ire, James and Ava grew quiet.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “You shouldn’t have had to stay with Henry if you didn’t want to.”

So that was why James was insisting I acknowledge my choice to leave if I didn’t want this. He’d already told me it’d been because of Persephone, of course, but hearing it from her made the pieces fall into place. James was protecting me the best he knew how, exactly like he had the year before. When I thought I’d failed a test, I’d tried to leave Eden Manor, wanting to see my mother before she died.

Henry had talked me out of it. James hadn’t known that I’d stayed out of my own free will, and it had been important enough to him to blow his cover.

“I was young,” said Persephone. “I thought love happened immediately. It was my f irst time living without Mother, and I hadn’t known what to expect. On top of that, being in the Underworld and away from the sun made me miserable. It was the perfect storm, and unfortunately Hades and I both got caught up in it.” She shook her head ruefully. “I never gave him a chance after that. He tried so hard—you wouldn’t believe the lengths he went to in order to see me happy. But it was never enough. He was never enough.”

It was dark now. The glow from the carnival and the piti-ful f ire were the only sources of light, and when I looked at Persephone again, it was hard to see her face. “He loved you anyway though,” I said. “He still loves you more than anything.”

“I’m not so sure anymore.” She sat up straighter and looked toward the sky. I followed her gaze, and once my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw that the stars weren’t in their usual pattern.

“You said he went down to the Underworld to get you,” said Persephone. “Were you really dead?” I nodded. “It was night, and I was in a park Mom and I used to visit back home. Mom traded her life for mine. Her mortal life,” I corrected. “But the body she was using was dying anyway.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Persephone. “He wasn’t supposed to do that. While I ruled with him, we only made a few exceptions, and even then there were so many caveats that no one ever really made it back to the surface. He violated everything he’s stood for since the dawn of humanity to save your life.”

Across the f ire, James cleared his throat. “She’s telling the truth, Kate,” he said. “He shouldn’t have saved you.” He had anyway. Smiling, I wrapped my arms around my body as the chilly night air settled over me. I didn’t know how that ranked as far as romantic gestures went, but I was pretty sure it was at least as high as getting me a puppy.

“Can you tell me how to control the visions?” I said to Persephone, feeling lighter than I had since coming down to the Underworld. Even if saving me hadn’t cost Henry much more than his rules and his pride, Persephone thought it was a big deal, and that mattered more to me than it should have. He would’ve done the same thing for her, I was sure, but he hadn’t. I still had some piece of him that she didn’t.

“It’s easy,” she said with a shrug. “You have to focus on where you want to go or the person you want to f ind.”

“You can f ind people?” I said, amazed. Persephone nodded.

“That’s probably how you’re doing it, thinking about Henry. It takes practice, but once you get it, it’ll come easier each time. Try,” she said. “Think of someone you want to see, and let yourself drift into it.”

As easy as Persephone seemed to think it was, I had no idea how to drift into anything. Still warm from discovering that Henry had broken the rules for me, I closed my eyes and pictured his face in my mind, and—

Nothing.

“It’s not working,” I said.

“Relax,” said Persephone. “It won’t happen right away.” Apparently it wasn’t going to happen at all. I tried again and again, until all of my contentment drained away, leaving me with a depressing lack of self-worth. My head pounded from concentrating so hard, and the more Persephone pushed me, the more out of reach it felt.

“It won’t come naturally at f irst,” she said several minutes later, which was about the most encouraging thing she’d said so far. “You’ve never had abilities before.” Why that made such a huge difference, I wasn’t sure, though it was clear I wasn’t going to get it that night. “I’m going for a walk,” I said, and I stood. Along with a killer headache, my leg throbbed again, and I shook it out. “I’ll bring everyone back some cotton candy.” Hugging myself for warmth, I headed toward the carnival entrance. Of course none of this was supposed to be easy—

if it was, any girl could’ve done it and the test wouldn’t have been necessary. Still, I felt like a complete and utter failure, slinking away while the three of them undoubtedly whispered about how I couldn’t do it.

Resentment f lared up inside of me, and I forced myself to suppress it. It wasn’t their fault I couldn’t control my visions, and if Persephone was telling the truth, I’d get it eventually. But I needed it now, not days or weeks or months in the future. If we didn’t know what was going on with Calliope—