“She is the best guard we have,” said my mother. “Henry volunteered to keep Cronus and the rest of the Titans who posed a risk to humanity locked up in the Underworld so there would be no humans around to tempt them, but we knew that if we allowed Cronus to remain conscious, he would f ind a way out. So the only solution we had was to keep him trapped in his dreams, which is Nyx’s specialty.”

“Then how did he wake up?” I said. “How did he get to the palace?”

James shoved his hands into his pockets. “Henry and I think he’s been waking up for some time—at least a few decades. He’s kept quiet until now, gaining strength, but there’s no way to check and see how awake he really is without risking our lives.”

“The Titans created us,” said my mother. “And they can kill us, as well.”

That was the last thing I wanted to think about, Henry running off to f ight that monster again while he might very well be in agony. “You still haven’t told me how he woke up in the f irst place,” I said, struggling to keep my voice from shaking.

“We don’t know,” said James. “We think Calliope did it.”

“But—” I frowned. “You said he’s been waking up for ages.”

“Decades,” he corrected.

I rolled my eyes. What was a lifetime to most people was the blink of an eye to the council. I would get there eventually, I supposed—if Cronus didn’t eat me f irst—but until then, I was on mortal time. Six months was six months, not a pleasant nap.

“There’s a strong possibility Calliope planned ahead and started the process when Henry made it clear he would never return her feelings,” said James. “When he started to bring girls home to meet the family and get tested, well…” He shrugged. “She must have snapped. No one but Calliope has the power to break Nyx’s loyalty to Henry and persuade her to wake Cronus up.”

Another thing I wasn’t crazy about hearing: how powerful the goddess who wanted me dead happened to be. “It doesn’t make any sense. If she was trying to protect humans, then why would she risk things going back to the way they were under the Titans?”

“We don’t know,” said my mother. “If we did, we would try to reason with her, but that has proven futile so far.”

“There’s a possibility she bargained with him,” said James. “Why she would trust him to keep his word, I don’t know, but she took your decision hard—”

“She hates you.” Ava squeezed my hand. “It’s the kind of hate that’s all-consuming, and it doesn’t stop for anything.

Especially not reason.”

So I had been the target after all, not Ava. I shuddered to think what might have happened if I’d frozen, too.

And was James right? Would Henry have ripped the world apart if Cronus had killed me? I wanted to believe it would have been because of how he felt for me, but a nagging voice in the back of my mind pointed out that if I died, he might have to give up his position as ruler of the Underworld and fade, if he didn’t die going after Cronus.

That would’ve pissed me off, too.

“James,” I croaked. “Please get your arm f ixed before you bleed to death.”

Glancing at his ripped jacket that was now soaked with blood, he frowned, as if he’d forgotten he’d been injured in the f irst place. More proof my wound only hurt so badly because I could remember what pain felt like. “Oh. Right.

I’ll go do that, then. You’re okay?”

I nodded, and he hesitated before crossing the antechamber and kissing my cheek. He didn’t say goodbye, and I was grateful for that small sign the council wasn’t afraid the world was about to end.

“Come,” said my mother, offering her hand. “Let’s get you someplace where you can rest.”

I wanted to protest. If Henry couldn’t rest, then what right did I have to do so while he was out battling a Titan?

However, I knew better than to f ight my mother on it.

Stubbornness really did run in the family.

She and Ava helped me as I limped to the bedroom. It was humiliating, feeling as if my leg was on f ire when the wound was gone and no one else seemed to be affected by injuries that were worse than mine. I tried to walk on my own and ignore it, but that only resulted in a few agonizing steps and the embarrassment of having to stop and lean against the wall. Eventually I gave in and let them help me.

Once I was settled in bed against the mountain of pillows and silk, my mother excused herself. “I would stay, but the others need me, too,” she said apologetically.

“I know,” I said. Whatever the others were discussing was undoubtedly more important and productive than hanging around with me. I wanted her to stay, but she wasn’t just my mother down here, and she had more responsibilities than holding my hand when I was upset.

After making me promise to let her know if I needed anything, she strode out the door, leaving behind a trail of worry she couldn’t hide. That, more than anything else that had happened that day, ate at me until I was sick with anxiety.

“Everything’s going to be okay, right?” I said to Ava as she settled down next to me. Pogo jumped up on the bed and snuggled between us, and I idly stroked his fur. At least I could count on him not to fret.

Ava didn’t answer right away. Wondering if she hadn’t heard me, I turned toward her, only to see that she was crying again.