The Goddess Inheritance (12 page)

And selfishly I couldn’t ask him to either, even though it might cost us everything.

Our flight was nearly empty. It was like the reports I’d watched on television hours before a hurricane was supposed to hit a town; the freeways leaving were crowded with more people than they’d ever been designed to handle, but the roads leading into town were deserted.

That was us. We were alone in first class, a necessity now that Henry was with us and needed space to rest. I sat in the seat beside him, watching him sleep and trying to coax him to eat something once the fancy meals came around, but he didn’t do much more than pick at his chicken and remind me gods didn’t need food.

“He’ll be fine,” whispered James from the seat in front of me. Though Henry had fallen back asleep, he continued to squeeze my hand. “Should’ve never left Olympus in his condition, the stubborn ass. Once we get back, he’ll recover a lot faster.”

“You think?” I pursed my lips. “That’s part of the reason I wanted to go to Athens. I figured the minute we get back, he’s going to want to fight with the others. He won’t give himself the time he needs to recuperate. At least this way he’ll get some rest.”

James eyed him. “You really think he’ll change his mind about fighting?”

“Of course. They have Milo.” And no matter how stubborn Henry could be, he wouldn’t abandon our son. “Are there any others?”

“Any other what?”

“Titans,” I whispered. “There were others in the myths, right?”

James scowled, the line between his eyebrows deepening. “Yes, there were others, but they won’t be any help. They were buried in Tartarus with Cronus.” He must have seen the look on my face, because he added hastily, “We don’t have to worry about them. Cronus would never allow them to leave, first of all—he wants to be king, and they’d challenge his rule. Second, they were all captured before Cronus was, and the measures the original six took to make sure they’d never see the light of day again...” He winced. “The only reason they didn’t take those measures against Cronus is because Rhea begged them not to. It more or less kills them,” he added. “Or at least as much as a Titan can be killed. And because she’s their mother, they listened.”

“Is that why they didn’t imprison her?”

“She didn’t fight in that war either.”

“Right,” I said. At least she was consistent.

“You should get some sleep,” said James. “Busy day ahead of us.”

“You, too,” I mumbled, and for the rest of the flight, I tried to follow his advice. But sleep either meant visions and Cronus or nightmares of Titans rising up from the earth, and I couldn’t stomach either right now.

The plane landed, and I reluctantly woke Henry. Without any checked luggage, it was an easy trek through the airport to catch a cab, and once again we settled in for a drive.

Athens hadn’t been the only place affected by the aftermath of the tidal wave. Signs of devastation were everywhere: refugees huddled together in large tents on the outskirts of the airport, debris of what had once been Athens was scattered across the coast, and the towns we drove through were practically empty.

“The earthquakes, they have scared our people away,” said the cabdriver. Once again I recognized that the words he spoke weren’t English, but I understood them anyway. That ability must have developed between my summer in Greece and now. “After what has happened to Athens, many believe we have been cursed.”

“Earthquakes?” said James and I at the same time, though he spoke in what must have been Greek, while I used English.

“You have not heard?” said the driver, and for a moment James’s eyes grew distant. I couldn’t hear what he was saying or who he was saying it to, but it was obvious he was communicating with someone.

“Phillip says there have been dozens of minor earthquakes around the Aegean Sea since the attack on Athens,” said James in a hushed voice. “Two major ones.”

“He is trying to escape our barriers by going through the earth,” said Henry on my other side.

“It isn’t working, is it?” I said, and both he and James shook their heads. “Good.”

I spent the rest of the cab ride in silence. The hours slipped by as we drove through the Greek countryside, heading toward the destruction while everyone else was leaving. I couldn’t bring myself to fall asleep. I sat rigidly beside Henry, whose eyes slipped shut for long periods of time, and not even our driver seemed very chatty once he’d updated us on everything that had happened. James told him which turns to take, and despite looking annoyed at being given directions by a tourist, he didn’t argue.

At last, after I’d wondered if we would ever reach Athens, the taxi came to a stop on a road that wound up a steep hill. “I cannot go any farther,” said our driver apologetically. “There is nothing left for us to go toward, and I have barely enough fuel to make it back.”

“That’s fine,” said James, handing the man a wad of bills. “Keep the change.”

The three of us piled out of the car, and I hugged Henry’s arm as James led us down the road. It slanted upward as it circled the hill, and I didn’t see any sign of the city, but he seemed to know where he was going.

“You need to prepare yourself,” said James as we rounded the corner. “This won’t be easy.”

“I didn’t come here for easy,” I muttered. Henry didn’t say a word, but he slid his arm from my grip to wrap around my shoulders instead. Warmth spread through me, and though it wasn’t enough to make me relax, it did help. Just Henry being there did wonders.

We reached the other side of the bend. I don’t know what I’d been expecting—more green landscape, more trees, more Greece, but the moment I saw what lay before us, I stopped cold.

The ocean glittered in the distance, churning threateningly as dusk approached. Before it, where Athens had stood, was nothing. Land that had once been covered in buildings and homes and people going about their daily lives was now barren and brown. Rubble stood where skyscrapers once had, and though rescue crews were scattered across the ruins, I would have never guessed that less than a week before, this had been Athens.

“It’s gone,” whispered James, and I groped around until I found his hand. His fingers were cold. “It’s just—gone.”

On my other side, Henry met the scene in front of us with stony silence. Pulling myself away from the destruction long enough to gauge his reaction, a wave of nausea swept over me. He didn’t look any different. His expression was impassive and his eyes distant, but there was no horror in his eyes. Only the same sadness that was always there.

This was his reality. He’d surrounded himself with death for eons; why would witnessing it on the surface be any different from seeing the dead in the Underworld? From ruling over them, judging their lives, choosing the fates of those who couldn’t choose for themselves?

In spite of reason, the way he stared at the ruins with silent acceptance chilled me. I never wanted to look like that. I never wanted to feel like death was no great loss, because for the family and friends and loved ones the people of Athens had left behind, it was terrible.

I leaned against him, and the three of us stood there, linked together. How could anyone who claimed to be capable of love do this?

Cronus wasn’t mortal, though. He didn’t understand the bonds of humanity or the fear and impact of death. To him, he’d done nothing more than brush away an anthill on a sidewalk, not realizing the ripples would be felt by millions.

No, he knew. He knew exactly what he’d done. He simply didn’t care.

“Can we—can we get to the Parthenon from here?” I said. “Maybe Cronus left something or—”

“There’s nothing there but rubble and dust,” said James.

“I know, but—”

Henry squeezed my hand. “I will take you.”

Before I could protest, the world around the three of us dissolved, and we landed in the middle of the ancient ruins. Above us, the sky was a symphony of color, a stark contrast to the devastation below.

“Are you okay?” I said, watching Henry. He was pale, and a thin sheen of sweat covered his forehead, but he nodded.

“I will live. Let us search for this clue.”

The tone of his voice made it obvious he was with James on this one—that there was no way Cronus would’ve left any sort of sign for us, but we had to try. I walked around the crumbling structure, searching for anything that looked out of place. James and I had visited the Parthenon during my first summer away from Henry, but I’d barely glanced at the details then, more enamored with the view. Now I wished I’d paid more attention.

What was I looking for? The pillars looked the same. Despite the destruction below, the council had been right: Cronus had left these ruins alone. Why?

Maybe it really was just a sign. An offer of peace if they stepped aside. But Walter had been adamant that Cronus would slaughter them all regardless of their efforts against him. Was he wrong? Or was Cronus trying to lure the others into inaction?

I kicked a bit of dirt. No way of knowing without asking, and the likelihood of Cronus telling me the whole truth was minuscule. Except—

I squinted. The floor hadn’t been made of dirt the last time I’d been here. Kneeling down, I brushed it away, revealing the worn stone underneath. My heart sank. Just debris from the tidal wave then. But that didn’t make any sense. How would that have gotten up here?

“Is there a way to clear all of this dirt out of here?” I said, and a few feet away, James waved his hand. A gentle wind swirled across the ground, revealing the floor below—along with a series of drawings etched into the stone. There was no way a human had done them. They were too intricate, too sophisticated, too impossible. The images seemed to warp the very stone, as if those things really existed within it.

“What the hell is that?” said James. He and Henry stepped back, and I rose. These hadn’t been here last time either.

On the ground, it was impossible to see them all as they stretched across the Parthenon. Instead I focused on the one nearest my feet: a drawing of fifteen thrones, all consumed by fire. Even though the lines didn’t move, it was easy to see the flicker of the flames.

My pulse raced, and I hurried over to another. A massive figure hovering over a crack in the earth as a dozen tiny figures fought it.

Cronus, escaping from the Underworld.

“It’s his version of history,” I said, stunned. “Not just history, but his plans for the future, too.”

Slowly Henry, James and I walked around the ruins, examining each picture. Some were of a time long before I was born—some before the birth of humanity—and Henry and James quietly explained them to me. But others I recognized. The drawing of a gate in Tartarus made me shiver, and I turned away. Each bar had a bloody handprint on it.

“Kate?” said Henry. “Come see this.”

I moved to his side and slid my hand in the crook of his elbow. “What’s—”

I stopped short. Below my feet, an etching of Cronus stared up at me, and he wasn’t alone. Standing beside him, holding on to him as I held on to Henry now, was a girl wearing a crown.

Not just a girl.

Me.

That girl was me.

Chapter 8

Queen

Silence. I held my breath, waiting for Henry to say something, but he didn’t. He didn’t blink, he didn’t move, he didn’t look away from the image. He just stared, and the same black waves of power that appeared in the airport began to gather.

Terrific. There went any chance I had of stopping Henry from riding his cloud of doom back to Cronus’s island.

James sauntered over and let out a low whistle. “Nice. Cronus really captured your essence. And look at that tiara.”

I elbowed him. “It isn’t me.”

“Who else would it be? I mean, look at her—the nose is a bit off, but other than that, it’s perfect.”

“It isn’t me,” I said stubbornly, giving him a look. We both knew it was a lie, but Henry couldn’t find out about the deal I’d made. “Calliope’s been shifting her appearance, and she looked exactly like an older blond version of me. You can’t tell what color hair this girl has, but that is definitely her nose.”

James held my stare for a long moment, and finally he refocused on the picture. “You’re right,” he said. “It must be Calliope.”

I wanted to hug him for lying and smack him for doing it so badly. Instead I settled on a smile and wrapped my arm around Henry’s waist. “See? It’s Cronus and Calliope. Nothing else makes sense anyway.”

Henry exhaled, as if he’d been holding his breath this entire time. Maybe he had. “Of course,” he murmured. “My mistake.”

Henry wasn’t stupid, but I hadn’t lied—Calliope did look a lot more like me and my mother these days. With luck, that would cover my lies long enough for Henry to recover. And by then, maybe his involvement would be enough for the council to take Calliope down and recapture Cronus, after all.

I couldn’t stomach staring at that image any longer, and I drew Henry and James over to the edge of the Parthenon. Together we gazed down at the devastation once more, but this time Henry’s grip felt like steel. He wasn’t letting go for anything, and neither was I.

I didn’t know how long we stood there. Minutes. Hours. Years. I was lost in forever, waiting for something to happen to remind me that there was still a world out there, a place to fight for even though Athens was gone, and a future beyond the one Cronus wanted for me. It wasn’t hopeless, not yet, and I couldn’t afford to forget that. The ocean grew surlier, whitecaps forming and waves raging against the shore, and something streaked across the sky.

I blinked. “What was that?”

“What was what?” said James, and another spark sped across the purple horizon.

“That,” I said as another followed, and another. “Rescue flares?”

“No,” said Henry. “It is dusk, and Olympus is overhead. The council is attacking the island.”

My blood ran cold. I’d never seen the other members of the council attack in their own realm. Down in the Underworld, their abilities had been muted, but on the surface they must have been giving it their all.

At what cost? Who would be next? My mother was among them. Would it be her?