“We’re all a little crazy, when you think about it,” said James, and my eyes flew open.

“It worked?”

“Congratulations, you’ve mastered the art of thinking. Now let’s take this connection one step further. Go into your vision and take me with you.”

Apparently it was too much to hope for that he’d forget about invading my privacy like that. “It isn’t going to work. Why do you want to go with me anyway?”

“Several reasons,” he said in a cagey way that meant he was hiding something from me. Then again, I was fairly sure he always was.

“Like what?”

“So I can get a good idea of what the layout of Calliope’s fortress is like,” he said. “So I know where Calliope and Cronus spend their time. So I can see where—”

He stopped, and I frowned. “So you can see where what?” I said, and his expression turned distant.

“Did you ever meet Iris?” he said, and I shook my head. “She was another one of Walter’s messengers.”

“Was?”

He cleared his throat and stared at his fort of fries, but his heart didn’t seem to be in it anymore. “Calliope killed her the day Henry rescued you.”

My mouth opened, but for a long moment, nothing came out. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t known her; James’s pain crept through me as surely as if it were tangible. “I’m sorry,” I said at last. “I can’t imagine what you must be going through.”

“She was one of my best friends,” he said softly. “It’s different when you’re immortal—you always take people for granted. I mean, they’ll be there in a century or two, right? No need to tell them how you feel, because there’ll always be another opportunity.”

I squeezed his hand. “I’m sure she knew, even if you never got the chance.”

“Walter should’ve never sent her in the first place.” James took a shuddering breath, and at last he looked at me. I pretended not to notice the redness in his eyes. “I want to see where she died. But I also need to get an idea of what’s going on so the council can form a strategy. If we’re going to rescue Milo, we need to know where he is.”

“You’d really do that?” I said.

He gave me an odd look and smiled. “Of course. He’s your son.”

That was all I needed to hear. Tightening my grip on his fingers, I closed my eyes and concentrated on his hand, all the while sliding into my vision. He held me back though, as if we were moving through quicksand. This was impossible. “I can’t do it.”

You’re almost there. Keep going.

I pushed on. Milo’s warmth lingered in front of me, waiting, and I couldn’t disappoint him.

Finally, as if emerging from an endless ocean of mud, we surfaced together. I planted my feet firmly on the floor of the nursery, but James stumbled, and it took him a moment to right himself.

“Whoa. Forgot about the aftershock.” He glanced around the sunset nursery. Henry stood in the corner, feeding Milo with a bottle, and James’s eyes widened. “Pretend I’m not here.”

“What—” I began, but Henry turned toward me, a blank smile on his face. Anxiety pooled in my stomach. Was he fading? Was that why he was barely there anymore?

“Welcome back, Kate,” said Henry, his quiet voice somehow reverberating through the nursery, as if he were speaking in a deep valley. “Milo began to fuss.”

“Right,” I said, glancing at James. Wasn’t Henry going to say hi? “Sorry about leaving like that earlier. Something came up.”

Henry nodded once, his eyes unfocused. He barely seemed to notice he was holding Milo. “Nothing terrible, I hope.”

I shook my head. “Just lunch.”

James moved toward Henry, one slow step at a time, until he was barely half a foot away. Henry didn’t so much as blink. How could he see me and not know James was there?

Without saying a word, James slipped out of the nursery. Did he expect me to follow him? Or was he memorizing the hallway Milo was in? With luck he’d look out the window, too, else there was no way he’d know which level we were on. Unless Calliope hadn’t fixed the massive hole in the floor yet.

For the next several minutes, neither Henry nor I said anything. Instead I moved to his side and watched Milo eat. It wouldn’t be much longer before I would be the one holding the bottle for him. We were almost to Johannesburg, and from there it was a much shorter flight to Zimbabwe. As soon as Henry was healed and Rhea was on our side, we would end this war.

Movement near the doorway caught my eye. I looked up, expecting James to come sneaking back into the room. Instead a girl walked in, carrying a pile of blankets that obscured her face, but I would’ve recognized her anywhere.

Ava.

She set the blankets down on a dresser shoved in the corner, a new addition since Milo’s arrival, and she jumped. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

My mouth dropped open. She could see me? “What do you think I’m doing here?”

Instead of answering me, she hurried toward us, her arms outstretched. “If Calliope finds out you’ve been in here again, she’ll be livid. Give him to me.”

Without warning, she stepped right through me and took Milo from Henry’s arms. My insides turned to ice. She could see Henry, but she couldn’t see me.

And she was holding our son.

“Give him back,” I said, reaching for him, but of course my hands went straight through them both.

Henry held on to the bottle, and devoid of his meal, Milo began to wail. His cries were louder and healthier than they’d been the first few days, but as reassuring as that should’ve been, they fueled every instinct I had to help him.

“Henry.” I grabbed his hand. “Don’t let her take him away. He’s still hungry.”

Finally Henry blinked and shook his head slowly, as if pulling himself out of a daydream. “I am doing what has been asked of me,” he said to Ava, ignoring me. “I am taking care of my son.”

“He is not your son,” hissed Ava, cradling him to her chest and turning her back on Henry. Hot fury washed through me, replacing my astonishment.

“You bitch,” I snarled, advancing on Ava. I didn’t care that she had no idea I was there. I’d tried to see things her way, but if she was going to take Milo away from his father, if she was going to insist Calliope was his real mother—

“Kate?” James’s voice cut through my rage. “Don’t move. Don’t say anything.”

“Not this time,” I said, but my footsteps faltered. Ava hunched over Milo, as if she were shielding him with her body. From what? His own father? “She stole Milo straight out of Henry’s arms.”

“She’s only trying to protect him,” said James.

“Protect him?” I exploded. “That’s his father, and she’s stealing Milo—”

“She isn’t stealing him.”

“Look at her! Henry, why aren’t you—”

I whirled around to face him, but his expression was as blank as ever. Like he was nothing more than a lifeless wax model. “Henry?” I said uncertainly. “Henry, what’s—”

James stepped between us, and he glared at him with such hatred that I stopped in my tracks. “I’m sorry, Kate,” he said. “That’s not Henry.”

Chapter 6

Rhea

Not Henry.

The words rattled around in my head like they were stuck in a labyrinth and couldn’t find the way out.

“Of course that’s Henry,” I said. Who else would it be? He’d touched me. He’d stayed with our son. He’d done everything Henry would have done.

He hadn’t kissed me, though. Some of the things he’d said hadn’t sounded right—they hadn’t sounded like Henry. Something had felt wrong this entire time. I’d dismissed it as a consequence of my vision, of him barely hanging on to this world in the first place, but what if it wasn’t?

Cold horror filled me. The only person capable of mimicking him so completely—

Cronus.

Of course. Of course. I was an idiot, and all this time he’d played me. He’d taken care of Milo. He’d fed him when he wouldn’t take a bottle from anyone else. He’d rocked him to sleep. He’d stood with me for hours, watching Milo’s chest rise and fall steadily.