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“What I did instead was give her a way to protect herself so she would never again suffer what she had. Your sister was a devout priestess of mine, one I loved. I was outraged at what had been done to her, but if I had shown that outrage, hundreds—if not thousands—would have died a watery death. I pretended to curse your sister, while giving her the weapons she’d need to fight back. She would never again be overpowered and used at a man’s whim.”

Stheno flinched but didn’t say anything.

“What happened when that little pissant Perseus tried to slay her?” Athena asked.

The corner of Stheno’s lips went up. “He wet himself and ran away.”

“That’s exactly right.” Athena nodded. “She has the weapons now that allow her to live an independent life. She’s beholden to no one, not even me. You three travel the world doing anything you want. Do you know any other priestesses who’ve lived that life?”

Stheno shook her head.

“No. It was a gift. Like her sisters, she is the master of her own destiny. It was the best I could do for my beloved.”

Stheno swallowed and then nodded.

“Good. Go back to sleep now.” Athena waved a hand and Stheno dropped to the tunnel floor.

I started to move toward Stheno and then stopped myself, worried I’d offend Athena. “May I move her, so her snakes aren’t being squished, please?”

The goddess barely spared Stheno a look before nodding.

“Thank you.” I lifted Stheno’s shoulders and dragged her back, so she was leaning against the wall again. The snakes must have known what I was doing because none of them tried to bite me, which I appreciated.

I returned to where I’d been standing.

Athena’s owl moved to her shoulder. “You are an interesting one. You’ve already been given valuable gifts for this quest. I know why you’re here and I, like Demeter and Artemis, hope you’ll be successful. We want very much for you to be successful. This has been going on for far too long.”

She glanced at my friends. “You’ve put together an excellent band of warriors. I have every faith you’ll make it through the Underworld. Whether or not you can complete the task…” She shrugged. “We’ll all be watching and waiting.”

She studied me again. “I find you interesting. I don’t understand why he’s put his faith in you. You’re scared to death but came regardless because a woman—who is cold and vicious, let’s be honest—asked you to. I would say that makes you simple-minded, and yet you’ve won the favor of these warriors, as well as the goddesses who’ve helped you, so still I wonder.”

I was afraid to respond and possibly piss her off, but I was sick of being a pawn in some mythological gambit, thousands of years in the making. What did any of this have to do with me? Since Artemis had asked me nothing, keeping silent seemed like the safest course of action at the moment.

She reached up and petted her owl. “I have a test, an offer, for you.” She smiled, but it was far from pleasant. “You’re in the land of the dead.” Her index finger tapped on her lower lip, as though she were trying to think of an appropriate test right now. The glint in her eye, though, told me she’d arrived knowing how she planned to twist me inside out.

“I can bring you your parents,” she proposed, “and allow you to speak with them, but in payment, you’ll need to take back all your scars.”

My parents. Oh, God, I could be that little girl at the airstrip, returned to my mother’s embrace. If this were real, that is. I tried to think strategically, tried to see if I was walking into a trap, but I couldn’t get past the idea of seeing my parents. There was nothing she could have dangled in front of me that would have been more meaningful, assuming Clive was safe and sound above ground.

“Yes,” I said, clutching my hands as tightly as I could to keep myself from reacting in any way that the goddess might find offensive. “Please.”

She moved closer, her luminous face mere inches from my own. “Do you understand? The scars you’ve hidden for years, the ones that make you sick to even think of, they’ll all be back. Your body will once again be a roadmap of pain. This is what you are agreeing to in order to speak with your parents for a short period of time. A lifetime of scars for a brief conversation.”

“Please,” I said again.

“What about your husband? Perhaps he will be too sickened by your scars to ever touch you again.”

My expression relaxed. “Clive says scars are sexy.”

She raised her eyebrows at that, giving me time to change my mind. I didn’t. Did I want my scars again? No, but I’d survived what had made them. I could survive carrying the echoes. What I would never survive was not choosing my parents.

“So be it,” she said with a wave of her hand.

Mom and a tall man who looked remarkably like my cousin Arwyn’s mate Declan stood in the tunnel, holding hands and staring at me.

Maybe it was the recent dream and remembering so vividly how I’d lost her, maybe it was the overwhelming emotion of the moment, but I burst into tears and threw myself into my mom’s arms.

“Happy birthday.” I barely got out the words, sobs wracking my chest. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t stop her. I just watched her kill you.”