“It takes centuries to learn how to fight the way that would make any difference in the battles,” he said. Damn. So James hadn’t been lying. “This—learning how to travel—is your best bet.”
“How can this help?” I said, and he shrugged.
“Any number of ways, really. Never underestimate the value of being able to go wherever you’d like with a single thought. That coupled with your visions...well, you could be a very formidable opponent indeed.”
“You’re just saying that to try to make me feel better.”
“Perhaps,” he allowed with a smile. “But it doesn’t make it any less true. Now, before you get the wrong idea of me, I will meet you back in the throne room.”
Once again, he disappeared, and I sighed. If I were still mortal, I was sure I’d have a raging headache by now. Closing my eyes, I repeated the process, this time trying to focus faster and shave a second or two off my time. I had to get better, and I only had so much time to learn how.
I reappeared in the throne room twenty-two seconds later and grinned. “Next time we play tag, I get to be it,” I said, and my eyes fluttered open.
Walter stood two inches in front of me, so close my nose was nearly pressed against his chest. “While it is admirable that you have found the time to play games during such a troubling period, I must ask that you take your seat now.”
I stumbled back a step and hit someone else. James. He set his hand on my shoulder to steady me. “We’re back,” he said.
“Hadn’t guessed,” I mumbled before shuffling over to my throne. Henry stood beside his, and he extended his hand. I took it. The rest of the council each stood by theirs as well, and I did a quick mental count. They all looked worn down—my mother’s skin was sickeningly pale, a painful reminder of her last few days back in Eden—but everyone had returned.
No one spoke. Their expressions ranged from deep sadness to inexplicable rage, and it took everything I had not to sink into a vision and make sure Milo was all right. “What happened?” I said shakily, too scared to wait for Walter to speak first.
“Cronus’s reach is extending. He sent out another tidal wave,” said Walter. “Alexandria is all but gone, and Cairo is half-drowned.”
“But—” I tried to picture a map of Egypt. It’d been forever since I’d seen one. “Cairo isn’t on the coast.”
“With the power of a Titan behind it, there was nothing to stop the wave from reaching so far inland,” said Phillip, and he took a great shuddering breath. “I am sorry. I have done everything I can to counter him, but—”
“There’s only so much you can do,” said Sofia gently, her eyes rimmed with red. “No one blames you, Phillip.”
From the way he bowed his head, it was obvious Phillip blamed himself. I shoved my shaking hands between my knees. Two cities this time, and everything in between.
“How many casualties?” I said.
“Millions,” said Walter. “Several times the amount of destruction in Athens.”
All the air left my lungs. Why hadn’t they taken Cronus’s deal? Maybe it’d only been worth a little more time to prepare, but that was still something. Cronus was escaping with or without their permission, and it wouldn’t be long before he devastated Europe and Africa. And then where would he hit? Asia? Australia? North and South America? How long would it take him to destroy everything?
At least Calliope attacked me for a reason. But Cronus—was he doing this just to hurt the council? To prove he was stronger and there was nothing they could do to stop him? They already knew that, even if Walter was too pigheaded to admit that he wasn’t the biggest, baddest bastard in the universe.
I opened my mouth to demand that Walter do something—anything, I didn’t care, so long as it stopped the attack. Henry took my hand though, stroking my knuckles with the pad of his thumb, and I fell silent. To Walter, I wasn’t anything more than an incompetent pest. Because of that, no matter what I said, no matter how much logic and reasoning I used, he wouldn’t listen to me. None of them except my mother, James and Henry would, and the council couldn’t afford to be any more divided than it already was.
“Kate, you may go,” said Walter, and I left the throne room without protest. I might have been young and inexperienced, but that didn’t make me an idiot. And if they wouldn’t fix it, then I would.
Shadows danced on the walls of Milo’s nursery as it materialized around me, and Cronus hovered over his cradle. He looked paler than usual, but his eyes swirled with fog, and a faint aura of power surrounded him.
“I’ve been waiting for you.” He set a hand on my lower back, and I recoiled.
“You’re a monster,” I snarled, reaching into the cradle for my son. “Do you realize how many people you’ve just—”
As always, my hand met empty air, but this time it was different. I squinted into the mess of blankets, and I froze. Milo wasn’t there.
“What did you do to him?” I said, and my voice broke. “Where the hell is my son?”
Cronus gestured behind me, and I spun around. Ava sat in a rocking chair that hadn’t been there the day before, and she cradled Milo.
“She has barely put him down since you last left,” said Cronus.
I hurried over to her, and Ava glanced up. For one horrible moment, I thought she could see me, but instead she looked right through me. “It won’t work,” she said to Cronus. “I don’t care how many times you try it. Kate isn’t here, and even if she was, you wouldn’t be able to see her.”
Still in denial then. For now, it didn’t matter; I watched Milo happily suck away on the tip of her pinkie, and my heart melted. Opening his eyes, he stared right at me, and I could have sworn he smiled around her finger.
“Hi, baby,” I whispered, kneeling beside Ava. The blade of her rocker sliced through my insubstantial thigh. “Look at you.”
His eyes were bright, his cheeks pink, and he waved his little hands at me with more enthusiasm than before. He looked like a healthy ten-day-old baby. Whatever Ava was giving him, it was working.
“Why does he look so much healthier?” I said to Cronus, and he repeated the question.
Ava, who must not have realized that he was once again speaking for me, shrugged. “Everyone knows that newborns need to be held, and not by a walking void of emotion either. A little love does them wonders.”