“So this is how it ends,” said Calliope, and she scooped up the dagger. “I’d say something witty, but you’re just not worth it.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, and an enraged scream filled the air, mingling with the crash of the ocean until I could no longer tell one from the other. This was it. This was the end.

One second. Two seconds.

The pain never came.

A collective gasp echoed across the roof and through the sky, as if the entire world had drawn its breath at the same time. Finally I had to look. Calliope stood near me, but her hand was empty; the knife was gone.

And between us crouched Ava, the handle of the dagger buried directly above her heart.

Chapter 19

Light

Behind me, Nicholas cried out, and his grief rose above the wind. The pinpricks of light in the unnaturally black sky echoed his pain, and at last I understood.

“Ava?” As she sank to the ground, I crawled to her side. My hand hovered over the wound. It was deep—too deep not to be fatal, unless I got the dagger out before the fog could penetrate her heart. Could I without making it worse? Wasn’t much of a choice. If I didn’t, she would die for sure. I gripped the handle. “This is going to hurt.”

Slowly I pulled it out, and her screams shattered the clamor of battle. As soon as the blade was free from her chest, I pressed my hand against the wound, willing the blood to stop flowing. She couldn’t die. Not after all of this.

“I’m sorry,” she wheezed, her eyes rimmed with red. “I thought—I thought it was for the best, I thought—”

“You did nothing wrong.” Her face swam in front of me, and I blinked rapidly. “Thank you. I’m so sorry I ever doubted you.”

“You—forgive me?” she whispered.

“Of course.” I pressed my lips to her forehead. “I love you.”

A trickle of blood escaped the corner of her mouth. “Finish this,” she said, barely audible. For one horrible moment I thought she wanted me to kill her, but she wrapped her cold fingers over my fist, the one that held the dagger, and I understood.

I glanced over my shoulder. Calliope stared at Ava, and despite all her posturing, undeniable shock spread across her face. Why? Wasn’t this exactly what she’d meant to do?

No, this was an accident. She hadn’t been aiming for Ava. She’d been aiming for me. Either way, I couldn’t afford to give her the chance to build her defenses. Lashing out, I went for her ankle, and grim satisfaction filled me as the blade sliced through skin and bone.

Collapsing to the ground, she screamed, a horrible, gut-wrenching sound that resonated through every cell of my body. With inhuman strength, she clawed at my hand, fighting to dislodge the dagger. “It’s over, Kate. Let it go.”

As she tried to take the blade from me, it cut her palms to ribbons, and her blood flowed freely down my arm. Her fingers dug underneath mine, and she began to pry the dagger loose from my hand.

“You really don’t know when to quit, do you?” she said in that girlish voice. Just a few seconds more, and she would have it. I cried out as the handle began to slip from my bloody grip, and tears of frustration streaked down my face. “I’m going to get Henry back, and Callum will be mine. He’s my son, not yours, and there’s nothing you can do about it. I’ll make sure whenever he hears your name, he knows you abandoned him. I’ll make sure he knows you never loved him. I’ll make sure he hates you more than he hates anyone in the—”

I roared, half blind with rage. My hand slipped past her, and between us, something made a sickening wet sound. She doubled over and went rigid, her eyes round with shock.

Breathing heavily, I tried to shove her off me, my fist still wrapped around the handle of the dagger. Something was wrong though—when I tried to pull back, the dagger resisted, and Calliope folded her body around my arm.

Her cries turned to gurgles, and she tore at my elbow with what little strength she had left. The weapon slipped from my grip, and she fell away, clawing at her chest.

I scrambled back. The silver handle stuck out of her chest at a sideways angle, through her sternum and pointing directly to her heart. Blood poured from the wound, and she convulsed, the golden aura around her fading until there was nothing left.

“You—” she managed, but the rest of her words died along with her. Her body stilled and her eyes stared at me, empty and unseeing.

“No,” I whispered. “You did this to yourself.”

All at once, the sky exploded, and white light blasted through the darkness. The din of war gave way to a chorus of the most beautiful voices I’d ever heard, and underneath me, Calliope’s body began to glow again. I hurried back to Ava’s side and took her hand. Nicholas joined us, and despite the fat tears rolling down his cheeks, he was smiling.

The black clouds reformed into a funnel, and it grew smaller and more concentrated until the darkness formed a man. Cronus.

“Rhea!” he boomed, his voice everywhere at once. The white light took form as well, and Rhea descended from the sky. She still wore the form of the little girl she’d been in Africa, but despite her stature, she radiated power.

Moving past Cronus as if he wasn’t even there, Rhea knelt beside Calliope’s empty body. “My daughter,” she whispered. At her touch, the blood disappeared, and the knife fell to the ground, dull and void of Titan power. “What has happened to you?”

I wiped my eyes, smearing blood across my face. The overwhelming weight of what I’d done hit me, and my body sagged under the pressure. I’d killed her child. Everything I’d feared Calliope doing to Milo, I’d done to Rhea. I really was a murderer.

I hadn’t meant to do it though—I’d only been protecting myself. Calliope was the one who hadn’t given up. She was the one who’d gone after me. She was the one who’d started this all.

If I’d had the chance to do it again though, I would have. “I’m sorry,” I said thickly. “I had no choice.”

A silver tear rolled down Rhea’s cheek. “No, I suppose you did not.”

One by one, the other gods joined us on the roof, no longer hindered by Cronus. They didn’t go to Calliope and Rhea, though; instead they appeared in a circle around Ava, Nicholas and me.

Walter arrived first, and he sat on the cracked roof beside me, drawing her head into his lap. He petted her hair, whispering words I couldn’t hear, and Ava smiled weakly. A strange light emanated from his hands, and I knew without asking that somehow he was keeping her alive.

“Please, Mother,” said Walter, his voice choked. I’d never seen him cry before. “You cannot save your daughter, but you can save mine.”

Rhea grew still. “What’s done is done. My daughter chose this path, and so did yours.”

The world around me narrowed until all I could feel was Ava’s hand in mine, growing colder by the second. No. No. It was completely within Rhea’s power to save Ava. She had to.

“You can’t just let her die.” I struggled to stand, but someone set their hands on my shoulders, holding me down. Henry. “All she was trying to do was stop Cronus. She was doing what you wouldn’t.”

Rhea said nothing. Cronus knelt beside her, and though his expression was emotionless, he touched Calliope’s face.

“Please, Cronus,” I begged. “Ava doesn’t have to die.”

He looked at me, and in that moment, I allowed myself to hope. Maybe after all this time, he’d gained an ounce of humanity. Without a word, he gestured toward us, and a wave of pleasant numbness passed through my body. The fire inside me cooled. He’d healed me. He understood, after all.

I clasped Ava’s hand and looked down at her, but instead of stopping, blood flowed from her chest with every weakened beat of her heart. “But...” I looked up, and Walter bowed his head.