The Goddess Test Boxed Set: Goddess Interrupted\The Goddess Inheritance\The Goddess Legacy (17 page)

“It is a job, as most else is,” said Henry, and I could see the lights from the tree reflected in his eyes. “Much of it is making rulings in disputes, or when a soul is undecided, we help them come to a greater understanding. We do not interfere unless the soul believes it will be judged.”

“And what happens to them?” I said, trying to remember what my mother was. Methodist? Lutheran? Presbyterian? Would it matter?

“It depends solely on their belief structure,” said Henry. “If they believe they will be walking around in a human form, then that is what occurs. If they believe they will be nothing more than a ball of warmth and light, then so be it.”

“What if what they believe and what they want are two different things?”

“That is also where we come in.”

I was silent. The prospect of spending the rest of forever ruling over the dead seemed impossible, like a faraway thing I would never reach, and I wasn't so sure I wanted to. I wasn't doing this for the job or even for immortality. After seeing Henry, I couldn't imagine how lonely forever could be, and I wasn't looking forward to experiencing it.

“What if I can't handle it?” I said. “What if I fail miserably and you have to find someone else?”

It was a long moment before he responded. “That is what the tests are for. I have already done my part in choosing you, and I believe you are capable of handling it. My brothers and sisters test you because with this task comes a great amount of responsibility, and there is no room for error. If you cannot do it, then you will not. It is simple.”

There was nothing simple about it, but I couldn't focus on what would happen afterward while I still had to make it to spring. Even if I passed all of the tests, if the council didn't like me, all of this speculation was pointless. I already had one vote against me with James. If they needed a unanimous ruling, it was already over.

“Henry?” I said quietly. He stared straight ahead at the tree. “You know I want to pass, right?”

“I concluded as much, yes, given you are still here.”

I ignored his sarcasm. His hand was warm underneath mine, and I squeezed it. “It isn't only because of my mother. It's because of you, too. I know you've been trying for a really long time, and I know I'm just another silly little girl trying to help out, and I know you think I'm going to fail, but—I like you, Henry, and I'm doing this for you, too, okay? I don't want you to fade.”

Even though he wasn't looking at me, I could see his lips twist into a mirthless smirk. “You could never be just another silly little girl,” he said. “I do not wish to influence you or make this more difficult on you than it already must be, but do not think I do not care about what happens to you, Kate. Perhaps it is impossible that anyone takes Persephone's place, but if that
is the case, it is out of no failure of your own. But if anyone is capable of it, I am certain it is you.”

“Then please don't give up,” I said. “I'll never be Persephone, and I know that, but—we could be friends. And you wouldn't have to be alone anymore.”

Henry looked away, hiding his face completely from my view. But when he spoke, his voice was tight, as if he were struggling to keep it steady.

“I would very much like that,” he said, and I released a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding and wriggled out of his grip. He didn't look at me, but he did set his hand back in his lap.

“Can I give you my present now?” I said. “I promise it's not poisoned.”

He rewarded my tasteless joke with a wry half smile. I untangled myself from the blankets, ducked underneath my bed to retrieve a large package wrapped in gold, and carried it over to him. To my surprise, there was a present where I'd been sitting moments before.

“Your gift,” he said. “Also not poisoned.”

“Thank you,” I said. I sat down and handed him his, but he set it aside as he watched me open mine. I pushed the silver wrapping paper away, revealing a plain box. Squinting in the low light, I pulled off the lid and pushed away the tissue paper, exposing a framed black-and-white photo.

I froze. It was my favorite picture of my mother and me, from when I was seven years old. We were in the middle of Central Park on my birthday, the exact spot where we met every night in my dreams, and we'd spread out an entire picnic, only to have it ruined by a large dog that had gotten loose from its owner. The only things that had survived were the cupcakes I'd helped her make.

In the picture, we sat in the middle of the mess that'd been our lunch, each holding a cupcake. Chocolate with purple frosting, I remembered, a smile tugging at my lips. She had her arms around me, and while we were both smiling, we weren't looking at the camera. The owner of the dog had taken a number of photos of us to make up for ruining our picnic, and in the end, this had been the one that had spent the past eleven years framed on my bedside table.

But as I stared at it, I realized it wasn't the same. It had depth to it, like the picture in Persephone's room. A reflection, Henry had called it, but unlike the one with him and Persephone, this one wasn't a hope or a wish. It was real.

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “Henry, I don't—”

He held up a hand, and I fell silent. “Not until I've opened yours as well.”

I waited, my vision blurry, as he unwrapped the large box. It'd taken me four tries to get the wrapping right. Lifting the lid, he paused. “What is this?” he said, puzzled as he examined the blanket I'd meticulously decorated. I'd refused to let anyone else help me, even though I knew it would've taken days instead of weeks if I had.

“It's the night sky,” I said, hugging my picture to my chest. “See the dots? They're stars. I remembered what you said about the stars moving. You said they were different when you met Persephone, and—this is how they are now. When you met me.”

Henry studied the constellations I'd painstakingly arranged on the blanket, and he gently brushed his fingers across the one I recognized as the Maiden. Virgo. Kore.

“Thank you.” He looked at me with his eyes made of moon
light, and something had changed. The barrier that had been there all this time was gone, and for a moment he almost looked like a different person. “For everything. I have never received such a wonderful gift.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I'm not so sure I believe that.”

“You should.” He continued to run his hand across the fabric. “It has been a very long time since I've received a gift as extraordinary as you.”

Unable to look away, I stared at him, absorbing every detail of his face. With that barrier gone, it was almost as if I could see who he was underneath, someone kind and lonely and scared, who wanted nothing more than to be loved. “Can I try something?” I said. “If you don't like it, I'll stop.”

He nodded, and I took a deep breath, trying to keep my stomach from doing somersaults. Gathering what courage I could find, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his chastely. I'd only ever kissed a few boys in my life, and it felt unfamiliar, but not awkward. Nice, I thought. It felt nice.

He seemed surprised, but he didn't resist. It was a painful few seconds, but finally he relaxed and kissed me back, his hand cupping my neck. The heat of his skin against mine was almost unbearably hot.

I don't know how long it was before I forced myself to pull away. While I caught my breath, I watched Henry warily, afraid he would bolt. He sat still, his expression blank, and finally I couldn't stay silent any longer.

“That—” I hesitated and offered him a smile. “I liked that. A lot.”

After what felt like ages, he returned my smile with a small one of his own. “As did I.”

Nervously I reached out to thread my fingers with his, look
ing down at our hands instead of directly at him. Mine was so small that it looked lost in his. “Henry? Don't take this the wrong way—”

I could feel him tense, and I immediately felt guilty, though I made an effort to mask it with a teasing look.

“Let me finish,” I said. “Don't take this the wrong way, but since it's Christmas and all…would you stay with me tonight?”

His eyes widened a fraction of an inch, and I quickly shook my head, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Not like
that
. You've got to earn that, and it costs more than just a picture, y'know.” My weak attempt at a joke managed to break the tension enough to get him to crack an apologetic smile. “But could you just…stay for tonight?”

Several seconds passed, and I mentally kicked myself for asking like I had—like I was some hormonal teenager who only wanted
that
. But I didn't want
that
at all. I wanted his company. He made me happy, and tonight of all nights, I didn't want to be alone. Most of all, I didn't want him to be either.

“Yes,” he said. “I will stay.”

 

Nothing happened.

We spent the rest of the evening talking and watching the lights on the tree. When it was time to go to sleep, I curled up next to him and unashamedly used his chest as a pillow, but that was it.

I didn't kiss him again, too content to risk screwing things up. He didn't deserve to be pushed like that, and while taking the next step opened a whole new set of doors, for now I wanted to appreciate his company. We both deserved to enjoy Christmas, rather than fumble through a lot of awkward moments.

My mother and I walked through Central Park, the haze of the city in the summer bearing down on us. She looked pleased as I recounted what had happened between Henry and me, and she hugged me to her when I told her that I'd kissed him.

“That's my girl,” she said, sounding happier than she had in ages.

We spent our last Christmas together eating ice cream and wandering through the gardens in the hot summer sun, and she pointed out the kinds of flowers that grew wild. She never took her arm from my shoulders, and when I felt myself begin to wake up, I wished her Merry Christmas for the last time.

My contentment didn't last for long, however. The first thing I heard when I awoke was pounding on my door. Confused, I sat up, my hair sticking out every which way, and I ran my fingers through it as Henry stood and walked toward the door.

In that moment, I hated him. He looked impeccable, not a hair out of place, and he moved as gracefully as ever. Meanwhile, I'd be paying for sleeping on the floor for the rest of the day.

“Yes?” he said, opening the door. To my surprise, Ella dashed in, closely followed by Calliope. Ella was crying, her face beet-red, and Calliope looked crushed with her slumped shoulders and her face drawn.

“I want her gone!” cried Ella furiously, looking back and forth between Henry and me.

“Is that a request,” said Henry, moving back toward the nest of pillows and blankets on the floor, “or a demand?”

“She hurt him!” said Ella, now focusing on Henry. “She hurt him, and he tried to find her, and now—”

“Wait, who?” I said as I struggled to my feet. “What's going on?”

Ella dissolved into tears. Now standing next to me, Henry looked expectantly at Calliope. She stared at the floor, not meeting his gaze.

“Ava,” she said. “She spent the night with Xander, and this morning Theo found them. They fought, and—”

Henry tensed, and my blood ran cold. “And?” he said.

“Xander's passed into the beyond.”

Ava sat huddled in the corner of her chamber without so much as a scratch, but on the bed, bloody remains were all that was left of Xander's body. A putrid stench filled the room, and I clasped my hand over my nose, but it didn't seem to bother Henry as he examined the corpse.

Ella and Calliope didn't come with us, opting instead to stay in a separate wing of the manor with Theo. He was injured, but it wasn't fatal, from what Calliope had described. Seeing him could wait.

Apparently for the people living in Eden Manor, passing into the beyond was the same as death in the outside world. It was as much an ending for them as it was for the living, never getting to see their loved ones again until they passed into the beyond as well. Xander was gone, lost to the Underworld, and the only person who could find him now was Henry. I struggled with the knowledge that this wasn't the real end of things, that I could lose Ava all over again, along with everyone I'd befriended since September, and this time they wouldn't reappear. This death was the final step for the people at Eden
Manor; this time there would be no in-between for Xander. Despite the painful void Xander's loss left in the manor, I took a small amount of comfort from knowing that this place was still part of the world I understood. A knife to the back meant blood, and too much blood meant death.

“Ava?” I said as I approached her. She looked like a frightened animal, ready to bolt at the slightest movement.

“I didn't mean it,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. There were smears of blood underneath her eyes, where she must have wiped her cheeks. “I—I thought he didn't want to see me again, and Xander was right there, and I—”

“It's all right,” I said, although it was anything but. I was queasy and barely able to keep from being sick at the sight of all the carnage, but I turned away from it, focusing on Ava. “We should get you cleaned up.”

I helped her to the bathroom while Henry continued his inspection. Once I was sure she wasn't going to pass out, I found her a robe to wear and busied myself with washing the blood off her skin and out of her hair. We were both quiet. I didn't want to know the details, and she was too shaken to say anything. By the time she was dry, I poked my head back in the bedroom, averting my eyes from the horrific scene on the bed.

“What do you want me to do with her?” I said.

Henry hadn't moved since I'd left. “The guards will escort her to another room, where she will stay until we have decided if she deserves punishment.”

I paled. “Is this—is this another test?”

He was by my side in an instant, faster than anyone could possibly move. “No,” he said. “Xander has passed. Now come— Ava will be taken care of.”

Shielding me from having to look at Xander's body, Henry led me toward the door. As we left, a woman dressed in a uniform entered, but I hardly noticed her.

“Where are we going?” I said, breathing in a lungful of clean air once we reached the hallway.

“To see Theo.” He guided me around the corner, and I followed without protest. My stomach lurched with the thought of what condition Theo might have been in, but I refused to think about it. For all I knew, he was fine.

But the moment we stepped into his chamber, it was obvious he was anything but. Ella stood at her brother's bedside, her face drawn and her hands trembling. When Henry and I entered, she glared at me, and I stopped a foot into the doorway.

“How is he?” said Henry, standing at the end of Theo's bed. He was unconscious.

“There's a shallow wound in his chest that worries me, but everything else is superficial. He's lost a lot of blood though,” said Ella, her voice rough.

“Will he wake up soon?” There was no compassion or worry in Henry's voice. Instead it was hollow, and that emptiness scared me more than anything else had that morning.

Ella shook her head. “I don't know.”

“Will he be able to handle the pain if I wake him up?”

Both of us stared at him. I searched for any trace of the Henry I'd kissed the night before, but he was no longer there. A very large part of me was relieved; this cold shell wasn't someone I wanted to fall for. But another part wondered which one was really him.

“Y-yes,” said Ella, averting her gaze after several seconds. “He'll manage.”

Even I could hear the uncertainty in her voice, but apparently
that was all the confirmation Henry needed. He let go of my hand and took a step closer to the bed, towering over it.

A moment later, without any pretense or sign that something had changed, Theo groaned. His eyes were so swollen he could barely crack them open, and he coughed weakly. There was a rattling sound in his chest that made me wince.

“What happened?” said Henry coolly.

Theo struggled to reply, opening and shutting his mouth several times. “Ava?”

“She's gone,” said in Ella with a surprisingly tender voice. “You'll never have to see her again.”

Instead of being comforted by this, Theo's eyes widened, and he struggled to sit up. “No,” he gasped, and even from across the room I could tell how much pain it caused him. “I didn't—I didn't mean to—”

“She is still here,” said Henry, and Ella whirled around, stricken. “Xander is gone.”

Theo slumped back on the bed, his eyes squeezed shut. “He attacked me,” he mumbled. “I came in to wish Ava a Merry Christmas, and I found them together. Xander—he must've forgotten the rules. Thought I was going to fight him. He pulled out his sword and swung at me, and—I had to fight back.”

He was wheezing. Why Henry was putting him through this when he could have easily questioned him once he was feeling better, I didn't know—better yet, why couldn't Henry heal him like he'd healed me? Somehow I doubted his abilities were limited to ankles.

“Calm yourself,” said Henry, nodding to Ella, who put a cup to Theo's lips. He drank, although most of it splashed on his chest. Ella mopped it up methodically with a towel, as if this were something she was used to doing, though her brow
was furrowed deeply. Regardless of how little he'd swallowed, whatever it was worked quickly. A few seconds later, Theo relaxed again.

“Is that your story then? That you had no ill intentions toward Xander, and that he was the aggressor? You were merely protecting yourself?”

“And Ava,” said Theo, his eyes fluttering shut. “I thought he was going after Ava.”

Henry waited while Theo fell back asleep. Once his breathing had steadied, Henry moved toward me and set his hand on my back, guiding me out of the room.

“Is he telling the truth?” I said.

Henry looked at me, his expression still void of any trace of the humanity I'd seen the night before. “What do you think?”

I swallowed, feeling as if I'd suddenly dived headfirst into the middle of a deep lake, the surface nowhere within sight. “I think I need to talk to Ava.”

 

Henry let me go into the room alone, although he and two guards stood immediately outside the door, undoubtedly able to hear everything we said. I didn't care though—getting the truth out of Ava was my top priority, not her privacy. If Theo was being honest, then she hadn't really done anything wrong, had she? But Xander was gone, and that was something that couldn't be ignored.

She lay in the middle of a large bed, her knees drawn to her chest. I gingerly sat on the edge of the mattress, reaching out to touch her hand.

“Are you okay?” The answer was obvious, but it was the only thing I could think of to say.

“No,” she said in a choked voice. “Xander's dead.”

“He was already dead,” I said as gently as I could. “He just passed into the next level of things, that's all.”

Ava was silent. I ran my fingers through her wheat-colored hair, still damp from washing out the blood. “Did they hurt you at all? Do you need to see a doctor?”

“No,” she mumbled. “I'm fine.”

It was clear that she was anything but, but the pain of losing Xander didn't negate the possibility that she had something more to do with it. “What happened?”

She hesitated, and for a second, I didn't expect her to say anything. When she did, she spoke so softly that I had to strain to hear her, even though the room was silent. “I don't know. I just—woke up, and Theo was there, staring at me and Xander like—I don't know.”

I bit my lip. “Was Theo the one to attack Xander, or did Xander attack Theo?”

“I don't
know
. I woke up, saw a sword, screamed and ran into the corner. I wasn't looking. I just—” She rolled over onto her back and stared up at me, her eyes red and full of tears. “There was blood and I was screaming and they were swearing and I don't know what happened, all right?”

I nodded. My fists were clenched, and my nails dug painfully into my palms. “Is there anything else you can tell me? Anything else you saw or heard or—”

“No.” She rolled away from me. “It doesn't matter anyway, does it?”

I wasn't sure what happened, but something inside of me must've snapped. I'd spent months—
years
trying to stop the people I cared about from dying, and Ava couldn't muster up
enough compassion about someone she claimed to love to figure out what had happened.

I stood quickly, and suddenly the room seemed much smaller than before. “Don't you get it, Ava? Xander is dead. Really, truly, never coming back here
dead
. And right now, everything points to Theo murdering him because he caught you in bed with him.”

That got her attention. Twisting around, she stared at me, her mouth open.

“Here's how it goes,” I said heatedly. “Either Theo is innocent and Xander was the one who attacked him, or Theo is guilty and Xander was defending himself. Do you even care, or are you just upset because you lost a toy?”

Seething, I began to pace up and down the room. I couldn't remember ever being this angry in my life.

“I get it, you're dead, your life is over and you're having fun while you can. But this isn't fun anymore, not for anyone but you—you're playing with these guys like they're only here to entertain you. You act like no one else matters except in relation to you getting what you want, and now Xander is dead because of you.”

“You're blaming me?” she said. “But I didn't kill him—”

“You didn't hack him into little pieces, but you're the reason it happened.” I stopped in front of the bed, running my fingers through my hair. “Ella wants you gone. Frankly, if all you're going to do is waste your time sleeping with every guy in the manor and acting like the world revolves around you, then so do I. You're useless here. The only things you've done are bicker with Ella and get Xander killed.”

The moment I said it, I regretted it, but I couldn't take it back. It was the truth, or at least an exaggeration of it. But
when I looked at Ava, I saw a scared girl who was my friend, not the heinous, selfish whore I'd painted her as. My stomach twisted, and guilt flooded through me so fast that I felt like I was choking.

“Henry let you stay here because we're friends,” I managed to say, and while I was calmer, my voice held the chill of accusation. “And we are, Ava, or at least I thought we were. But he risked that for me, and all you've done is get one of his men killed and the other branded a murderer. Do you have any idea how awful that makes me feel?”

Ava stared at me, her lower lip trembling. “You're just jealous,” she whispered. “You're stuck with Henry your whole life while I get to be with anyone I want. Admit it—the only reason you're acting like this is because I get a choice and you don't.”

I glowered at her, trying to ignore the way her words echoed through my mind. Hadn't I been thinking the same thing a few months before? But I wasn't going to give Ava the satisfaction of thinking she was right. She wasn't, not anymore. “Don't try to turn this back on me,” I said. “I had a choice, and I made it. More important, I'm happy with my decision, and I'm doing everything I possibly can to live up to it. I'm not jealous of you, Ava. I'm ashamed.”

The hurt in her eyes was painful to see, but I forced myself to continue. She had to understand there were limits, and until she stopped hurting others, I couldn't stand by and watch anymore.

“Stay in Eden as long as you want, but don't you dare come near me or Ella or Theo or any other man in this place again, do you understand? You leave them alone. You leave
me
alone.
I have enough to deal with right now without having to make sure you don't get anyone else killed.”

I would have buckled if she'd looked at me, so I stormed out of the room and past Henry, who wordlessly followed me to my suite. I wanted to slam the door, but he was behind me. Pogo and Cerberus were still curled up together on the floor, and the pillow I kicked missed them by inches.

“Now what?” I said, turning on Henry. “Do we sit here and talk about what happened? Are we the judge? The jury? What happens now?”

“Nothing,” he said, giving Cerberus a scratch behind the ears. “You have already made your decision.”

I paused. “What?”

“Ava will not have any romantic contact with any men, nor will she have any contact with you or Ella,” said Henry, and I sat down heavily on the bed. “As for Theo, that is not a judgment I could possibly ask you to make. Not yet.”

“Why not?” I said, my throat dry with the realization that I wouldn't see Ava again. After everything we'd both been through since September, I felt like I'd failed her. But in a way, hadn't she failed herself? I knew it wasn't her fault, not really—she couldn't have predicted this would happen. She'd still been careless though, and I'd stood by and let her. This was on my shoulders, too. But no matter who was to blame, Xander was still dead.