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Say goodbye? I can’t. I can’t do it. It isn’t fair. Why didn’t Hades tell me this? Why didn’t Ares? Or any of the other rulers of the gardens who I restored? This whole thing is so unfair!
Janie has a life waiting for her, a future. I know everyone who loses someone says that, but what good is it being a demi-goddess if I can’t do the one thing I ever set out to accomplish?
Decades, centuries of wandering the world, never taking a stand, never fighting for something. But now I have. Because Janie is worth it. She’s worth everything. I know she’s grown now, but I can’t stop seeing her as that little girl, with the blond cap of thistledown hair clinging to my hand, grinning her gap-toothed smile as she told me at length about the dogs she’d seen that day.
I can’t just give up.
I can’t.
Someone is making a horrible, guttural sound, and it takes me a minute to realize with mortification that it’s me.
Ares hovers, like he isn’t sure of his welcome, which is probably a good choice. The hysterical laugh that tries to slip past my lips turns into a sob. I know he was hurting; I know he was trapped here and desperate, but I really would have rather he killed me instead of taking Janie away.
Rhiannon is at my side in an instant, her shoulder under my arm like she’s propping me up. It’s not a terrible plan, since my knees feel like they could give out on me at any second.
“Pen,” she says, urgently. “Penelope, listen to me. All is not lost. You can still get your sister home.”
Her words manage to break through the drowning grief in a way nothing else could. “What?” My voice is choked, throttled down by pain.
Rhiannon squeezes my arm, her eyes intent on my face. “Use the necklace, Penelope. The Fourth Gate would have never allowed me to pass, but hiding inside the relic, you were able to bring me through, regardless. If you secret your sister’s soul within the relic, youwillbe able to take her out of the Underworld. The necklace will keep her soul intact.”
I stare at her for a long moment, blinking, trying to get my grief-fogged brain to put her words into an order that I can understand them.
The relic. The one Rurik used to store power in. It had brought Rhiannon safely through to the Fifth Garden. She’d been fine.
I suck in a soggy breath, trying to slow the rapid gallop of my pulse. “I can bring her home.” The words come out as more of a plea than a statement.
Rhiannon smiles. Her hand rests lightly on my back. “Yes, Penelope. You can take her home.”
The relieved breath I let out is actually painful, like I’ve hollowed out something inside my chest. But I don’t care. I don’t care, because I did it. I got my sister back. I made Aphrodite’s deadline, and I can take Janie home, and she’ll get to finish school and change the world, and marry the man who’s crazy about her. And maybe, if enough years pass, I’ll be able to forget that wounded animal sound Christopher made over the phone when he called to tell me the news.
My hands are shaking so badly that it takes me a couple tries to pull the filigree mesh pendant out of my armor. With a deep, shivery breath, I hold it out towards Janie’s waiting spirit. It’s like watching fog and light break apart, pulled into the pendant by the relic’s terrible gravity. The panic spikes once more when Janie’s body fades into wisps of vapor, but I give myself a little shake.
It’s not Janie’s body. It’s her spirit. What she looks like doesn’t matter. She’s still my little sister.
When it’s done, I cradle the pendant in my hands, cupping it like a wounded bird.
“Thank you,” I tell Arawn and Rhiannon. “Thank you, so much.”
Arawn only nods his head, but Rhiannon gives my arm a little squeeze. “Thankyou, Penelope.”
With a raised hand and a gesture, the trees around us shift like a curtain being politely drawn back, and in the clearing where there was a forest a second ago, is a circle of standing stones.
They don’t look like Stonehenge; they don’t have a piece across the top. This is simply a circle with nine stones, all of them as pale as moonlight, erupting up and out of the dirt like uneven teeth. Power shivers through the air, and I realize this is the Gate. Arawn has brought it right to us.
The effort has made Arawn pale, his arm shaking a little as he lowers it. He’s only just gotten back on his feet after however many years spent sleeping, and it’s probably going to be a bit before he’s back to his full strength. I don’t ask if he’s alright. I’ve never met a man who took it well when you acknowledge his weakness.
But then Rhiannon is at his side, neatly fitting herself under his shoulder just like she did me a minute ago. She silently holds him up, making it look like a hug instead of real support. Arawn’s smile is as brilliant as the crescent moon when he looks at her.
In my head, I can all but feel the grains of sand falling through the hourglass, so I wave my goodbyes and I hoof it for the gate. How stupid would it be to get all the way here, save Janie, and then get screwed because I dawdled?
To my surprise, Ares falls in at my shoulder. I didn’t expect him to escort me. I guess I kind of figured he was a for-real god, not a half-mortal one like me, and he’d just be able to… poof his way out of here.
But then, the rules of the Underworld have always been strict. Even in legends, the other gods could never just pop in and out as they pleased. Hades had always worked to ensure that the dead were safe from the games and assignations of his fellow deities. So maybe Ares really does need to use the gates to leave.
Still, it’s weird. Like seeing the Pope take the bus.
“Are you alright?”
