Maybe I managed to take him by surprise, or maybe he was simply amused and wanted to see what I would do, but Cronus didn’t fight me. He let go, and before anyone could say a word, I tore down the hallway and into the nursery.
Milo lay in the cradle, crying softly, and I ached to finally touch him. How was it possible that minutes before, we’d been connected? How had I ever allowed my body to let him go?
“It’s all right,” I whispered, reaching for him. He calmed, and this time when his blue eyes met mine, I knew he saw me. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
The moment my fingers brushed his downy cheek, someone cleared their throat behind me, and I turned. Calliope stood framed in the doorway, and she held the dagger to Henry’s throat.
All of the air escaped my lungs. This was it. He was going to die. I was going to lose my husband, my baby, my entire family to a crazy goddess who didn’t care who she hurt, so long as she got her way. So long as she got to torture me.
“Don’t hurt him—you can’t, please,” I whispered, clutching the edge of the cradle. Henry’s eyes were open, and he stared at me—no, not at me. Beyond me. He stared at Milo. It was a small comfort, knowing that he would die with the knowledge he had a son. That at least he would have this moment.
“Please,” spat Calliope, a mockery of my desperation. “Always please, as if that’s enough. You know it isn’t, Kate. Why bother?”
It didn’t matter if nothing I ever did was enough; I had to try. I couldn’t live with myself if I surrendered and let her have everything that mattered to me. “You love him. If you kill him, you’ll never have him. You’ll lose.”
She scoffed, but a hint of doubt flashed across her face. “I’ll be the queen of the world. I’ll never lose again.”
“Being queen won’t make you happy.” I studied the way she held Henry. He could break her grip if she lowered the knife. All we needed was that split second, and I could distract her long enough for Henry to take the baby and disappear. “You’ll still be alone. You’ll still be miserable.”
Calliope’s eyes narrowed. “Whatever it is you think you’re doing, it won’t work. I don’t need him anymore.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I already have exactly what I want.” Behind her, Cronus loomed, somehow taller than he had been moments before. The power radiating from Henry was gone now. “First I’m going to kill Henry, and then I’m going to kill your mother and every single member of the council. Once I’m done, when the world kneels at my feet, I will hold your son, and he will call me mother and you a traitor. And together, we will watch you die.”
Henry roared and struggled against her, coming to life at last, but whatever chained him held strong. She pressed the blade to his throat. This wasn’t about winning anymore—she knew she had me, and I knew this was the end. Now it was about causing me as much pain as possible.
The joke was on her, though. Without Henry, without my mother, without my son, I would welcome death.
Focus. This couldn’t be it. There had to be something I could do—some magical combination of words I could say to get her to lower that dagger. Anything.
Behind me, Milo’s cries grew louder, and I groped around until I touched his hand. This was it. These were the only few moments I would have with him. Despite the dagger to Henry’s throat, I would have given anything to make them last forever.
“Then kill me,” I blurted. “Right now, in front of Henry, in front of the baby—just do it. Because I promise if you hurt either of them, I will make sure you spend eternity burning in Tartarus.”
Calliope tilted her head, and I held my breath. She had to agree. Anything to get her to lower that knife, to give Henry that split-second advantage—anything.
But before she could say a word, Cronus exhaled, and fog crept across the floor of the nursery. “No.” The word was barely a whisper, but it burrowed inside me, refusing to be ignored. “You will not harm Kate, my daughter. If she dies, so will you.”
Behind the flush of her excitement, Calliope paled. “You can either keep Kate or her spawn alive. Not both. Choose.”
“I have already told you what you will do,” said Cronus. “You will obey me, or you will be the one to die. That is your choice to make, not mine.”
Clenching her jaw, she dug the blade deeper into Henry’s skin, and he winced. Forget me. His voice echoed through my mind as clearly as if he’d spoken. Do whatever you must to escape before it’s too late.
“No,” I whispered, and Henry narrowed his eyes. He could glare at me all he wanted. I wasn’t leaving, not without him. Not without the baby.
Though she was still pale, Calliope’s lips twisted into a smirk. “How cute. You can try all you want, but she isn’t getting out of here ali—” She stopped. “What’s that?”
Cronus’s expression went blank, and I twisted around, searching for whatever it was that had caught her attention. What was what?
Calliope’s gaze unfocused, and her smirk faltered. “Father, do something,” she hissed, and at last I heard it.
The distant rumble of thunder, growing louder with each passing second.
The crack of lightning that lit up the sky beyond the indigo curtains in the hallway.
A burst of wind so strong that it howled through the corridors.
And a dozen war cries blending together, forming a fearsome harmony.