The Goddess Test Boxed Set: Goddess Interrupted\The Goddess Inheritance\The Goddess Legacy (74 page)

“The way we treated her this past year...” My mother created a
handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. “She shouldn't have been there. We should've
let her come back when she asked.”

“It's not your fault,” I said. Walter had been the one to make
that decision. “She tried to tell me why she was doing it so many times, and I
never listened. Cronus—” My voice broke. “He wouldn't save her. He healed me,
and he could've healed her, too, but because of me—because of me, he
refused.”

My mother leaned her head against mine and drew me into her
arms. “It is not your fault either,” she croaked, but there was conviction in
her voice. “Cronus would have never saved her, even if you'd been by his side
and fulfilled your promises to him. Honor means nothing to him. He is defined by
the power he has, and all you did was bruise his ego. You did not change who he
is or who he chooses to be.”

I hiccupped. “I hated her so much. I thought—I blamed her for
everything, and all she was trying to do was help me or—look after Milo or—or
save Nicholas's life. And Walter—”

“Walter did what he had to do in order to win the war.” My
mother tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “He has his own demons to face
now.”

My chin trembled. “I should've done something. I should've
listened or—or fought for her or forgiven her or—anything.”

“You did,” said James. “You did all of those things. Your
mother's right. It isn't your fault, it isn't her fault, it isn't—it isn't Ava's
fault. It's Calliope's. And she's gone now. There's nothing more we can do but
remember Ava and keep on loving her.”

I nodded tightly. I could give her that, and I would. We all
would.

In the cradle, Milo let out a soft cry. “It seems like
someone's eager to see you again,” said my mother. Despite her red-rimmed eyes,
she managed a smile as she scooped him up. “Do you want to hold him?”

More than anything in the world. As I reached for him, however,
I hesitated. A few more inches, and I would feel him. He was really there. An
invisible barrier full of questions and doubts held me back, and I lowered my
hands into my lap. “What if I can't do this? What if I can't be his mother?”

“You already are,” she said, and I shook my head.

“I'm not as good at this or—or as strong as you are.”

She rested her head against mine again, and her hair tickled my
neck. “Yes, you are. In so many ways, you're stronger than I've ever been.
Sadness doesn't equal weakness, sweetheart. If anything, it shows the love you
have inside you, and nothing stronger in this world exists. Ava knew that better
than all of us.”

A shadow moved in the doorway. “Your mother's right, you know,”
said Henry. “The best way we can honor Ava is by loving the people in our lives
as much as we can. That's all she would have wanted.” Sitting on the mattress
beside me, he gave my mother a smile. “I see you've met my son.”

“He's beautiful,” said my mother, and Milo let out another soft
wail. “He wants you, Kate.”

Wiping my cheeks with my bloody sleeves, I nodded. My mother
placed Milo in my arms, and he settled against me, a perfect fit. He was warmer
than I'd expected, and heavier, as well. Turning his head toward me, he nuzzled
my chest, and my heart nearly burst.

“Just like this,” murmured my mother, adjusting my elbow so I
was supporting his head. “There you go.”

“Look at that,” said James. “You're a natural.”

As Milo calmed, he stared up at me with his big blue eyes.
Whatever connection we'd managed to forge before intensified, and in that
moment, my world shifted. He was so beautiful and innocent, and I would spend
eternity making sure he had the chance to stay that way. He would never know war
or hatred or the agony of loss. He would never spend his days counting down to a
loved one's last. He would never feel alone or unworthy or unloved. He would
know happiness. He would know peace. He would know family. And he would always
have me and Henry.

A tear dripped down my chin, falling and hitting Milo on the
nose. He made a face, and Henry chuckled.

My mother stood. “I'll leave you three be,” she said, and
though she was smiling, the grief hadn't left her voice. I wasn't sure it ever
would completely. Together she and James exited the room, closing the door
behind them.

“He looks so much like you,” murmured Henry. “Every time I held
him, all I could see was your face. I missed you, Kate.”

I brushed my knuckles gently against Milo's cheek. He may have
had my eyes, but he had Henry's dark hair. And his ears. “Whatever happened on
the island between you and Calliope...”

He tensed. “Kate, I—”

“It doesn't matter.” I looked at him. “You did what you had to
do to protect Milo. I know that.”

His hand slid up my back, and he squeezed my shoulder. “Nothing
happened. Ava never used her powers on me. I was pretending the entire
time.”

I leaned forward and kissed him. His lips were sweet against
mine, and I didn't let him go until Milo whimpered between us. We both knew
pretending meant he'd somehow had to convince her he loved her. Part of me
burned with the need to hear everything, but none of it mattered, and I wasn't
about to let Calliope hurt us from the grave. Whatever Henry had endured, we
would get through it together. One day, if he wanted to talk about it, I would
listen. But until then, I would pretend I believed him. To protect and love him
the way he protected and loved me.

We were a family, and no one, not Calliope, not Cronus, not
even death itself, could take that from us.

Chapter 20

Eternal

Sometime during the night, I untangled myself from
Henry and slipped out of bed. He slept soundly, clearly exhausted after the
battle, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't fall asleep.

Reaching into the cradle, I touched Milo's forehead to make
sure he was still there. Reassured by the rise and fall of his chest, I padded
out of the room, closing the door behind me. Even in the dead of night, the
ceiling glowed brilliant blue, and the magnificent sunset swirled underneath
me.

I didn't consciously decide where to go. One minute I stood in
the hallway, and the next my feet carried me into the throne room in search of
someone else. After the evening we'd all had, chances were slim anyone else
would be awake, but it was worth a shot.

In the entranceway, I stopped cold. The sky wasn't blue here;
instead the ceiling was dark as night, and the stars twinkled above us. The
thrones were gone, and in their place a glass coffin rested on a raised
platform. Inside, dressed in a white gown with roses in her hair, lay Ava.

Without thinking, I crossed the room and pressed my palm
against the glass. Her lips were the color of cherries, and in the dim light, I
could almost see her smile.

A lump formed in my throat. I opened my mouth to say
something—to apologize, to promise I'd never forget her, to forgive her again
and again until the universe had no choice but to believe me—but I couldn't
force out the words. She couldn't hear them anyway, and I'd said it all in her
last moments. She already knew.

“She isn't really there.”

I scowled. “Leave me alone.”

A rustle of fabric, soft footsteps, and Walter stood by my
side, looking every bit as aged as he had on the rooftop. “It's a reflection of
sorts, but more realistic than a simple picture.”

I pulled my hand from the glass and shifted half a step away
from him. “Where's her body?”

“Gone,” he said. “Back into the universe.”

“Then why is this—this hologram here?” The empty throne, the
empty bedroom, the empty hole in our lives where she'd once been—as if all of
that wasn't enough to remind us she was gone.

Walter inhaled deeply, and as he exhaled, faint thunder rumbled
through the throne room. “She lived a very long time, and her life touched many
others. Those who wish to say their goodbyes will have the opportunity to do
so.”

“Yet you aren't doing the same for Calliope.”

He winced. “My wife chose her path. She chose to separate
herself from the council. Ava did not.”

“No, she didn't,” I said. “You chose it for her. You're the
reason she died.”

Walter stared into the coffin. “I have made many mistakes—”

“Mistakes?” My snarl echoed from one end of the room to the
other. “Ava's dead, and all you can say is that you made some
mistakes?
”

Walter faltered. Though he tried to draw himself up to his full
height, tears spilled down his face, defeating any intention he had of
intimidating me. “It is not your place to say—you could not possibly know the
circumstances—”

“I know Ava's dead. I know she only joined Calliope because you
told her to.”

“For Nicholas,” he said. “For the greater good.”

“Is this worth the greater good?” I gestured to the coffin. “Is
this worth knowing that if it hadn't been for you, Ava would still be
alive?”

“She would not be alive,” he said hoarsely. “None of us would
be. Henry would have never joined the fight, and Cronus would have won. It is as
simple as that.”

“Rhea won the war, not Henry. He wasn't even fighting on our
side for most of the battle.”

“Yes, he was,” said Walter. “On the rooftop, he was countering
Calliope's abilities. A difficult thing for any of us to do, even more difficult
without being discovered, but he managed. When he came to us with your plans to
surrender to Cronus, we knew what he intended to do, and with Ava aware that
Calliope wanted to take Henry as well, we set up the ruse. All along, he was
feeding us information about her and Cronus's tactics. We would have never stood
a fighting chance without his help. Or without Ava's help. She is the
reason—
you
are the reason he agreed to fight at
all.”

“There had to be another way to keep Ava out of it. There's
always
another way.”

“If there was, do you think I would have risked her?” said
Walter. “Do you truly believe if there had been any feasible alternative to draw
Henry into the war without her—”

“You could have asked. You could have given him time. You
didn't have to play Calliope's games and risk everyone's lives.” At last I faced
him. “We're not pieces on a chessboard, but that's how you treated us, and now
you're paying for it. We all are. So I hope whatever lies you've told yourself
keep you warm at night, because no one in their right mind is going to bother
with you once everyone knows what you did.”

He touched the casket, and all the fight drained out of him,
leaving a husk of a man where the King of the Gods had stood only moments
before. “I know what I deserve. I do not need anyone, you or the Fates or the
universe itself, to detail the mistakes I have made. I am paying for it now, and
I will pay for it throughout the rest of my eternal existence. If that is not
the hell you wish for me, then I do not know how much more I could possibly hurt
to satisfy your desire for vengeance, daughter.”

“I am
not
your daughter.”

Walter bowed his head. Every instinct I had screamed for me to
leave before he retaliated somehow—emotionally, physically, it didn't matter—but
my feet refused to move. This was the longest conversation I'd ever had with the
man who was supposedly my father, and this was what it'd come to.

“You are my daughter, as surely as Ava was,” he said quietly.
“She was the only one of my children who ever bothered to see me for who I
really am. The others only ever saw power. Calliope only ever saw a philanderer.
But Ava understood the love I have for you all. She understood that a man can
feel things he does not express, and that lack of expression does not deplete
that love.”

“I know that.” She'd been the one to insist Henry loved me no
matter what. “You realize if you'd never cheated, none of this would've ever
happened?”

“If I'd never cheated, you would have never been born.” He
looked at me with lightning in his eyes, and I held his stare. “James would have
never been born. Ella and Theo, Irene, Persephone—I loved my wife. My misdeeds
are not her fault. But I will not apologize, to her or to any other, for
bringing my children into this world. Including you.”

“Then you're no better than she is. Love doesn't give you a
free pass to hurt your family. You do remember what family is, right?”

He tilted his head. “And what do you mean by that?”

“You never came to see me.” I dug my nails into my palms. If I
could draw blood, then maybe the fury trying to claw its way out of me would
have some release. “You knew what I was going through after Mom was diagnosed,
but you didn't care.”

“I have many mortal children,” he said slowly. “There was no
guarantee you would pass the test, and I did not want to risk forging a
connection with you in case you did not.”

“Why, because you were worried about your precious secret being
revealed?”

“Because after everything your mother told me about you, I knew
that if I came to see you, I would love you instantly. The pain of losing
children I have never known is hard enough. But to lose one I love...” He
stroked the edge of the glass coffin.

My shoulders shook with silent sobs. “I needed you. I needed
someone to tell me it would be okay. I needed to know I wasn't alone, and you
couldn't bother with me because you were too afraid to love me?”

“The council has watched over you from the beginning, playing
bit parts in your life. Loving and protecting you as we did in Eden. You were
never alone, Kate, even in your darkest of days.”

“But I didn't
know,
” I burst. “It
doesn't make any difference if I never knew.”

“I am sorry.” His voice broke. “I am sorry for never being the
father you needed. I am sorry for not being the king my people deserve. And I am
so sorry for letting my daughter make the ultimate sacrifice. I do not expect
you or anyone else in this world to forgive me now that she is gone, but I hope
one day, for Ava's sake, you will allow me to be your family. To be your father,
as I should have been when you were growing up. It is what Ava would have wanted
for us both.”

I wanted to spit in his face, to tell him to go screw himself
and find another daughter who was willing to love such a manipulative creep, but
the truth of what he was saying froze me in place. He was right. This was what
Ava would have wanted. Not only because I needed a father, but because Walter
needed a daughter who loved him despite his flaws, who understood him and gave
him a chance. I'd done my best to show everyone, even Calliope and Cronus, that
compassion and understanding. Ava would've wanted me to do the same for him. To
not fail Walter like I'd failed her.

“You're asking for more than I know how to give,” I said
quietly, and all of the fight drained out of me. I focused on the image of Ava's
face again. “You hurt me. You hurt my mother, and you hurt our family.”

He set a tentative hand on my shoulder. “I know. And I will
spend eternity doing what I can to make it up to you. I cannot promise much, but
I do promise that you will always have me—you will always have all of us. As it
should have been from the beginning.”

Pressing my swollen lips together, I nodded. After all the pain
he'd caused, I couldn't forgive him as we stood there side by side, but someday
I would try. For Ava.

* * *

The glass coffin remained in the throne room for three
days, and the image of Ava was never alone. At first only the council members
came to see her, each of us wanting to be alone with her. After we'd all had our
turn, Walter opened up the portal to Olympus, allowing others to come through
without assistance.

As the hours passed and news of her death spread, gods I'd
never seen before appeared in Olympus to pay their respects. Some of the names
were familiar, but nothing prepared me for the sheer number Ava had touched in
her life. The throne room was always full in those three days of mourning, and
the veil of sadness only grew heavier with each new face.

A boy with blond curls kept vigil by the coffin, never speaking
a word. Both Nicholas and Dylan joined him at different times, and while he sat
stiffly at Dylan's side, the boy seemed to relax in Nicholas's presence.

“Eros. Eric now,” said Henry as we lingered near the hallway
and watched. “Her oldest son.”

My vision blurred, and I had to excuse myself. I knew how
deeply Ava had touched the rest of the council, but seeing the paths her long
life had forged, the family she'd formed in the millennia she'd lived—it only
reopened wounds I was sure would never fully heal.

On the third day, dawn crept across the starry ceiling. Walter
called us all together, and we stood in a circle with the other gods, watching
as the glass coffin filled with light. At last, as the sunrise blended away the
last vestiges of night, the casket disappeared.

While the rest of the earthbound gods left one by one, Eros
remained. The thrones returned, circling the spot where Ava's reflection had
stood only moments before, and we each settled into our proper place. I cradled
Milo, who slept soundly, and tried to ignore the empty seats on either side of
Walter. Nicholas, the worse for wear but healing, set his hand on the armrest of
the seashell throne that had been Ava's. As he brushed the tears from his
cheeks, I looked away.

“Brothers and sisters, sons and daughters,” said Walter into
the silence. “While we will forever mourn the loss of our own, the time has come
to acknowledge that their positions among us must be filled.”

I glanced at my mother. Replacing Calliope made sense—like
Henry couldn't rule the Underworld alone, surely the same was true for Walter
and his realm. But Ava?

She patted my hand.
All in due
time.

“I will handle the replacement of my queen,” said Walter. “In
the meantime, I ask that Diana take the role temporarily and assist me as
needed.”

“Of course,” said my mother. “Whatever I can do to help.”

Walter inclined his head. “Thank you. As for Ava's place, we
must once again scour the world to find one who is worthy. It will not be an
easy task. Ava was...” He paused. “She was irreplaceable. We cannot pretend
otherwise, but we must continue on. Kate.”

“Yeah?” I said, and my mother's hand tightened around mine.

“I think it appropriate that you take Ava's place.
Temporarily,” he added. “Until we find someone capable of filling her role.”

“What of her duties in the Underworld?” said Henry before I
could protest. “I need her by my side, especially now, with the kingdom left
unattended for so long.”

“I am not asking for a great commitment on her part,” said
Walter. “Only enough to tide us over until we have found a new goddess. She can
handle it during her summer months away.”

I shook my head. “I'm staying in the Underworld during the
summer now. I don't want to leave Milo.” Or Henry, but that wasn't the sort of
excuse Walter would understand.