“They are coming,” said Henry. Theo set his hands over the wound, and Henry’s pained expression relaxed. “They insisted I go on ahead.”

“Are they injured?” said Theo, and Henry shook his head.

“The attack was mostly focused on me.”

I watched Theo anxiously, looking for any signs that whatever he was doing was working. At f irst I saw nothing, but then, after several seconds, a strange glow formed between his hands and Henry’s skin. As he passed his palms over the wound, it closed, leaving behind a faint silver line.

That was all the evidence I needed to know that this wasn’t an everyday occurrence. Henry had no other scars.

“There,” said Theo once he’d f inished. He f ished a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his hands. “I would recommend taking it easy this afternoon in case there’s any damage I didn’t catch.”

“There isn’t,” said Henry as he sat up. He started to pull his shirt back on, but he must have felt how damp it was, because he set it aside. “Thank you, Theo. Ava.” Theo wasted no time leaving, and Ava lingered behind him, her brow furrowed with concern. She jerked her head toward Henry, and I shook my head. As much as I wanted her around, now that Henry was here, there was no reason for her to stay.

I sat on the edge of the bed and ran my f ingers through Pogo’s fur as Henry folded his ruined shirt. A dozen questions ran through my mind, but I didn’t know where to start, so I left it up to him. Eventually he would have to talk to me, even if he didn’t want to tell me what had really happened.

Nearly a minute passed before he spoke, and by that time I’d shoved my hands between my knees, too nervous to try to pretend not to be. “Are you looking forward to the ceremony this evening?” he said, and I gaped at him.

“We haven’t seen each other in six months, you’re covered in blood, and that’s what you want to talk about?” He shrugged. “It is as good a topic as any.”

“No,” I said, digging my nails into my jeans. “It’s really not. Why don’t we start off with how you managed to get hurt so badly when you’re supposed to be immortal?” He stood and headed toward a door next to my closet.

When he opened it, I saw that he had a wardrobe of his own, only smaller and more monochromatic. He pulled out a black shirt that was identical to the one he’d discarded, but before putting it on, he headed over to another door.

The washroom.

“I’ll help you,” I said, hopping off the bed and hurry-ing after him. He didn’t object, and I followed him into a large bathroom decorated in black and gold. Spotting a washcloth, I grabbed it and turned on the faucet. “I didn’t expect the Underworld to have plumbing.” That at least got a faint smile out of him. “Ava can be very convincing at times.”

I wiped away the blood that stained his skin, taking care to avoid the thin scar that now ran down his chest. Henry stood motionless, and when I glanced up at him, I saw him staring down at me with an oddly tender look.

“What?” I said, blushing. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” he said, and as quickly as I’d noticed it, the look was gone. “You asked how I got this. There was a problem I had to take care of, and while there are few things that can injure my family, they are out there.”

“Like what?” I said, rinsing the washcloth out. The water turned pink as it swirled down the drain.

“Nothing you ought to be concerned about.” Terrif ic. Apparently while I’d been getting a tan in Greece, he’d reverted back to the same Henry I’d met a year ago instead of the one I’d married. I glared at him.

“Really? That’s all you’re going to tell me? You promised you’d never lie to me.”

“I am not lying—”

“You said you wouldn’t keep secrets from me anymore,” I countered. “So which is it? Are you going to treat me like a fragile little girl you need to protect at all costs, or are you going to treat me like your partner? Because in a few hours, I’m going to be queen of this place, and I’m never going to be able to help you rule properly if you always hold everything in. I have a right to know.”

Silence. I sighed.

“Does this have anything to do with Calliope?” Henry tensed. “How much did your mother tell you?” My mother knew about this? “Nothing,” I said, and when I realized I’d have to tell him about what had happened sooner or later, I grimaced. “I had a vision, I guess.

I don’t know what else to call it. When James brought me down here, I suddenly saw you and Walter and Phillip f ighting—something. I don’t know what it was, but you were in front of this gate, and Calliope showed up behind you and told you that it was pointless, because he was already awake.”

The silence seemed to stretch on forever. It wasn’t until I picked up the washcloth again that he replied, and when he did, he spoke with an eerie calm.

“So that is your gift, then. I had wondered.”

“Gift?” My mother had mentioned the same thing, but she’d never gotten around to explaining it.

“Along with immortality comes certain talents,” said Henry. “It varies from individual to individual, and often-times it coincides with what we represent. For instance, healing is not Theo’s only talent. As the god of music and poetry, he also has perfect pitch.”

He was trying to make me laugh. That had to be a good sign. I managed a small smile as some of the anxiety drained from my body. “I’m sure that comes in handy all the time.”