“What? Of course I wouldn’t,” she said, stunned. “I’m on your side.”
“Then tell me where Henry and Milo are.”
She swallowed, her eyes red and shining with tears. “She’ll kill all of us. Me, you, Henry, Milo, Nicholas—”
“Persephone and Emmy are getting him out of there as we speak,” I said. “He’ll be fine.”
“Emmy? You mean Henry’s—”
“It’s a long story.”
Ava hesitated, and at last her expression hardened. “Come on. I’ll take you there.”
Alarm bells went off in the back of my mind. “Why should I trust you?”
“Because we were friends once,” she said. “And because I’d want someone to help me protect my son if our positions were reversed.”
Right. She’d mentioned her son before, and while I believed her, it seemed awfully convenient that she’d bring him up now. “You never told me about him.”
“Eternity’s a long time to cover between classes,” she said. “His name’s Eros—Eric now, I suppose. Are you coming?”
Searching the entire castle room by room would take too long, and for all I knew Henry and Milo were bunkered down in a place I’d never be able to find on my own. So before I gave myself time to consider it, I nodded.
We ran through the hallways, and I tried to ignore the rolling black clouds through the windows and the bone-shattering crash of water against rock. The council was getting closer. Maybe we’d have a chance, after all.
“Where are they?” I shouted over the roar, and Ava dashed up the staircase, pulling me along with her. The hooked knife nearly slipped from my grip, but I hugged it to my chest. I couldn’t lose it.
“On the roof with Calliope and Cronus,” said Ava.
My heart sank. Persephone was supposed to cover that area, but she was undoubtedly still with Nicholas. If none of the other girls had made it up there yet after clearing their sections of the castle, we would be on our own.
It didn’t matter. Milo and Henry were on that roof, and I would’ve gone up there as naked and mortal as the day I was born if it meant having a chance to save them.
I followed Ava without question. She could have been leading me straight to my death, but I desperately wanted to believe that the Ava I knew and loved was in there somewhere, willing to give her all and risk her life for the greater good. She wouldn’t have led me astray, and I had to believe that this Ava wouldn’t either.
The door to the roof appeared, and I took a breath. I would know soon enough, one way or the other.
Chapter 18
Bloodshed
We burst into the open air, the afternoon sky blacker than night. The cyclone that had been Cronus was gone, spread across the sky and struggling against pinpricks of light that looked like stars. The council. I ducked my head. If my mother saw me and got distracted—
That had to be a risk I was willing to take. My mother was strong. She wouldn’t let Cronus get the best of her. If I had any chance of getting through this, I couldn’t doubt her. I couldn’t doubt myself.
Calliope stood at the edge of the roof, her hair whipping in the wind and her head tilted upward toward the heart of the battle. Henry stood at her side, his arms shielding a bundle of white blankets from grains of sand that cut through the air like bullets. What was he doing, bringing Milo up here?
I shoved aside my protests. Milo was immortal, and there was nowhere safer for him than with Henry. I couldn’t get distracted.
“Calliope,” I cried. My voice was nearly lost to the wind, but she faced me, her eyebrows raised in surprise.
“So you really are as stupid as I thought you were,” she said as she walked toward me, leaving Henry and Milo behind. “Come to die?”
“Not quite.” I gripped the hooked knife. It had to be as good as her dagger. “Let Henry and Milo go. This is between you and me.”
Calliope’s eyes widened innocently. “Henry’s free to leave whenever he wants. It’s not my fault he chose me over you.”
My blood boiled. “How does it feel to know that your reality is nothing more than a fantasy you’ve concocted and blackmailed your way into? Nobody loves you. Not your husband, not your children, not your brothers or your sisters—no one.”
The air around her crackled angrily. “Do you think I care? I win, Kate. I have everything you’ve ever wanted, and soon everyone else you love is going to be dead. You’re going to spend eternity alone, and no one’s going to be there to save you anymore.”
“It isn’t about winning.” I took a step toward her. “Even if you never let Henry go, somewhere inside him, he’s always going to love me—because he wants to, because we’re good together. Not because Ava forced him into it. And no matter how alone I am, I’ll always have the comfort of knowing that at least someone in the world loves me because they want to. But you—you’re nothing but a heinous, lonely, unloved bitch, and that’s all you’re ever going to be.”
Calliope screeched and barreled toward me. In the few seconds we had, Ava tried to push me behind her, but I sidestepped her and sprinted toward Calliope, clutching the hooked knife. I had one chance, and I was damn well going to take it.
We collided, immortal against immortal, and the force of it nearly sent me flying. Her nails scratched my face, her shrieks of rage rang in my ears, but her hands were empty. Mine weren’t.
“I’m going to beat your pretty face to a pulp,” growled Calliope. “Once I’m done, I’m going to make your son watch as I scoop out your eyes and peel your skin from your body. And maybe, once you’re nothing more than a lump of quivering flesh, I might let you—”
Her eyes widened, her words cut short as I sank the hooked knife into her side. “You might what?” I said. “You might let me die?”
Calliope fell off of me, her brow furrowed in confusion. She stared at the knife sticking out of her side. “How did you—”
“The weapons Nicholas forged,” I said. “You’re not the only one with brains, you know.”
She tugged on the knife, wincing as the hook ripped her skin apart, doing more damage going out than it’d done going in. Blood soaked through her pale blue dress, and she dropped the blade on the ground with a clatter. “But...”
Her eyes went blank, and without another word, she collapsed.
I stared at her body, and the way my hands shook had nothing to do with the bitter wind. After two and a half years of struggling to stay alive in her wake, that was it. I’d done it.