I didn’t know how long we stood there. Minutes. Hours. Years. I was lost in forever, waiting for something to happen to remind me that there was still a world out there, a place to fight for even though Athens was gone, and a future beyond the one Cronus wanted for me. It wasn’t hopeless, not yet, and I couldn’t afford to forget that. The ocean grew surlier, whitecaps forming and waves raging against the shore, and something streaked across the sky.

I blinked. “What was that?”

“What was what?” said James, and another spark sped across the purple horizon.

“That,” I said as another followed, and another. “Rescue flares?”

“No,” said Henry. “It is dusk, and Olympus is overhead. The council is attacking the island.”

My blood ran cold. I’d never seen the other members of the council attack in their own realm. Down in the Underworld, their abilities had been muted, but on the surface they must have been giving it their all.

At what cost? Who would be next? My mother was among them. Would it be her?

I swallowed hard, and my vision blurred. The last time I’d spoken to her, I’d been a selfish brat. I hadn’t given her the chance to explain why she’d kept the identity of my father secret. What if those were the last words I ever said to her?

“I should help them,” said James, and he tried to let go of my hand, but I held on.

“Be safe,” I said. “And make sure my mother comes home.”

He kissed my cheek. “Always. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

A few minutes? James started toward the center of the Parthenon, and several feet away, he began to glow. Before I could utter a word of surprise, he, too, turned into a blaze of light, and he took off after them.

“Oh, my god,” I said as I followed his path across the sky. “I had no idea we could do that.”

“They are most powerful when Olympus is nearby,” said Henry. “As James said, the battle will not last long. Come. We must return to where it is safe for you.”

“You, too,” I said firmly. He could pretend he was fine all he wanted, but he wasn’t fooling me. I could see the exhaustion in his eyes. He wouldn’t have a chance if Cronus discovered we were here, if he didn’t know already. “Can we still visit Olympus sometime, once you’re healed?”

Henry gave me a puzzled look. “We are not returning to the Underworld. We are going to Olympus. Cronus and Calliope believe me to be dead, and we must encourage that belief.”

He was wrong; Cronus didn’t think he was dead. He knew we were going to find Rhea, and he had to realize that Rhea wouldn’t refuse to help her son.

Though what if he didn’t? He knew nothing about a parent’s bond to a child. He cared about control and power, not affection and love. If I told him Rhea had refused to help, would he believe me?

“All right,” I said. I would talk to James about it later. Henry was too tired, and he needed rest, not a late night of planning how best to screw with Cronus’s head. He’d be all too willing to do it, too, after that image of me beside Cronus. “I don’t know how to get back to Olympus.”

“Lucky for you, I do,” said Henry with a faint smile. “Close your eyes.”

I gazed out across the ruins of Athens one last time. I would make this right. I couldn’t give the people back their lives, but I would do everything I could to make their stay in the Underworld a happy one.

Focusing on the streaks in the sky attacking the island prison, I said a silent prayer that they came home safely. To whom, I didn’t know. To anyone who would listen. There had to be a way to stop Cronus’s version of the future from happening, and I would do everything I could to figure it out.

At last I closed my eyes, and Henry wrapped his arms around me. A warm wind surrounded us, and my feet left the ground. This wasn’t Henry’s usual disappearing-reappearing act, but it didn’t matter. We were together, and for one beautiful moment, we were flying.

* * *

I’d spent countless hours in hospitals, waiting for a doctor to tell me how my mother was doing after her latest round of tests and surgeries. Anxiety had become my closest companion during those years, and no matter how many times I played the game, it never got any easier.

I’d never been able to read or make small talk with the others waiting for news. Sometimes I’d filled in the empty spaces of coloring books with cheap packs of crayons I’d found in the gift shops. Sometimes I’d stared at a television, unable to focus on what was showing. It never seemed nearly as important as what was happening to my mother.

Sometimes I had imagined I could feel everything she felt. I’d imagined what she could see if she was awake. If not, I’d imagined what she’d dreamed. And always, always, time had stood still while I waited for the inevitable bad news.

I’d known I would lose her someday, but then came Henry. Then came the seven tests. Then came the rest of my life. The moment I’d passed, the moment I’d swallowed my pride enough to admit defeat, my mother had appeared in all her immortal glory, and I’d thought it was the universe’s way of promising I would never lose her again.

That promise was a lie.

Henry eased down onto his black-diamond throne in the vast room inside Olympus, and without saying a word, I curled up in his lap. He kissed me, the sort of warm, soft kiss that normally washed away every worry I had, but not today.

We waited. He ran his fingers through my hair, toying with the ends, and I stared at the center of the throne room. The faint sounds of battle filtered in from the world below us, and the clouds on the sunset floor swirled, as if they, too, could sense the world’s discontent.