“Humanity is nothing compared to you,” he said, touching my cheek, and I stepped back.

“Even if that were true—and you know it isn’t—Milo deserves a happy life, and that means making sure there’s still a world for him to live in. I have to do this, Henry. I’m sorry. I love you and Milo more than anything, and if I had any choice in the matter—”

“You do,” said Henry. “You have as much choice as you are willing to give yourself.”

I huffed. “Fine. I’ve made my choice. I’m going to fight.”

“You should not be fighting in the first place,” he said. “You are too delicate, too—”

“Too what? Too young? Too inexperienced? I don’t need to be ancient to be worth something, and I’m doing this whether you like it or not.” I glared at him, but he averted his eyes. Several seconds ticked by, and at last I said in a softer voice, “I get why you don’t want to fight, Henry. I do. But that was before all of this happened. That was before Milo was born. If you won’t fight for me, then will you at least fight for him?”

Henry was quiet for a long moment, and not even the rise and fall of Milo’s chest comforted me. This was impossible. Half-dead or not, Henry was as stubborn as ever. After caring for the baby all this time, he knew Milo even better than I did, and that was the part I didn’t understand. How could anyone look at that face and not want to rip the world apart to get him back? How could Henry not need to protect his own son and give him the future he deserved?

“We will discuss it once you have made contact with Rhea,” he finally said. “I will not promise anything, but if there is a way I can help, I will. As it stands, I am rather stuck.”

That was as much of a concession as I was going to get. I stood on my tiptoes to try to kiss him, but like he had every other time during our visits with Milo, he turned his head so I only captured the corner of his mouth. “Thank you,” I said, refusing to let his distance faze me. Maybe he was Sleeping Beauty, and a kiss would wake him up and take him away from his son. If only it were that easy.

“You are welcome.” He reached into the crib and picked up the baby. “We will be here waiting when you return.”

“You’d better be.” I held my hand above Milo’s forehead, as close as I could get without going through him. “I love you both so damn much. You know that, right?”

Milo waved his arms, as if reaching for me, and Henry kissed his hand. “We do,” he said. “And we cannot wait to be with you again.”

I poked him in the ribs. “You can count on it.”

“Kate?”

I opened my eyes. James leaned toward me, his nose inches from mine.

“There you are,” he said with a hint of relief. “You were smiling.”

I straightened and adjusted the sling wrapped around my burning arm. It was easier to ignore the pain as it became the norm, but when I focused on it, it made me wince. “I didn’t realize that was a crime.”

“It’s not.” James offered me his hand, and I took it. “I just thought you weren’t coming back. I’ve been calling your name for ages.”

My cheeks grew warm. I didn’t know how I acted during these visions—no one had bothered to explain it to me, and I was too embarrassed to ask. Could James hear everything? “Then why didn’t you break in like you did last time?” I muttered.

“What, you mean when I was trying to drag you back from total oblivion?” he said. “I am sorry about that, you know. It’s rude. But if I hadn’t, you’d still be in there, convinced Henry was dead. So all in all, I figure it was worth it.”

I scowled at him, but he was right. “How did you do that anyway?”

He tapped his nose. “My secret. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll explain it later. Are we leaving? I packed a bag for both of us. Actually, your mother packed yours. I figured Henry might smite me if I went through your underwear.”

“I thought Walter was the one who did the smiting,” I said with a faint smile.

James’s eyebrows shot up. “Did you or did you not see the black cloud of doom when Henry broke onto Cronus’s island?”

My smile vanished. “Of course.”

“And you still think he doesn’t have it in him?”

I frowned. James didn’t have to rub my nose in the fact that I didn’t know what my own husband was capable of. Or what I was capable of, for that matter.

“Come on,” said James, gentler this time, and he took my good arm. “Let’s go say goodbye.”

My mother wasn’t the only one waiting for us. Walter stood at her side, and his smooth expression didn’t betray whatever it was he was thinking. My stomach twisted. I’d avoided him since the council meeting, unable to forget how he’d addressed me—as his daughter.

It seemed impossible. It had to be. If I was the daughter of Zeus, I’d know it. But the more I thought about it, the less I could deny it. James and Ava had mentioned that only his children joined the council; and if I was a member, then the answer was obvious.

But regardless of the evidence, part of me wanted to stay in denial. I’d lived my whole life thinking my father had left my mother early on, that he may have not even known I’d existed. It was easier than facing the possibility that he’d known and just didn’t care. And if Walter was my father, then there was no question that he’d not only known I’d existed, but he’d been acutely aware of everything my mother and I had gone through, as well. And he’d never cared enough to help.