“I can’t believe it,” Tobin says. “I got this close, and now she’s gone again. She could be anywhere.”
“We’ll find her,” Dax says. “The Oracle told me we’d be reunited again if I helped Haden find his true path.”
chapter fifty-nine
HADEN
I wake several hours later. Daphne’s house is empty. For a moment, I wonder if I have been abandoned. I wouldn’t blame them. Daphne should have left me back at Sunny Ridge. I am surprised she didn’t run the first chance she got.
I hear voices—laughter—from outside the house. I wander out the back door and find the others gathered around a table on the deck. They pass food to each other—chimichangas, most likely Dax’s suggestion—and talk like they’re merely in the cafeteria back at school.
“You should have seen the look on his face!” Dax says.
The others laugh.
“Whose face?” I ask.
The group falls silent and they all look at me expectantly. Like they’ve been waiting for me to tell them what we’re going to do next. I walk to the edge of the deck and lean against the railing. I look up at the sky. There are more stars above us than I have ever seen during my time in the mortal world. This place is beautiful in a whole different way from Olympus Hills. I wonder if Daphne will be happy staying here.
A streak of lightning rips across the sky, blotting out the stars, and thunder rolls in the distance. The air feels arid around here, but I can smell rain on the horizon. The Skylords are still out there. Waiting.
What else is out there waiting for us? Who is the Motorcycle Man who took the Compass and what does he plan on doing with it? Who is he working for? What will Ren do to retaliate?
Another thought creeps into my mind—the same thought that haunted me while I slept off the effects of the day.…
Dax approaches with a plate of food.
“Are you hungry?”
I shake my head. I’m starving, but I can’t bring myself to eat. Not with the sick, heavy feeling that sits in my gut.
He places the plate on the railing between us. “So what exactly happened down there?” he asks softly.
“Like I said, my father tried to force me to make an unbreakable vow that I would bring Daphne to him, but instead I vowed that I never will.”
“That was brave,” he says.
“What if I made a mistake?”
“You didn’t.”
“How do you know that?” I search his face, looking for the truth.
“Because I believe in you. That’s why.”
“I’m not sure you’re putting your belief in the right place. My father said some things when I was down there. He tried to convince me that he was about to be overthrown by the Court, and if they succeed, some pretty terrible things are going to happen.”
“Like what?” It’s Tobin who asks the question.
I can see the others are listening now. I turn to face them. All their eyes are on me—except Daphne’s. She stares intently at the food on her plate.
“He said that if he is unable to convince the Court that I will bring Daphne back, then they will revolt. That they’ll tear through what remains of the locks on Pandora’s Pithos to get out into the mortal world. That they’ll come after the Kronolithe themselves and reignite the war with the Skylords.” I can see that the full meaning of this has not reached everyone. “Between the Keres that would be let loose on the earth when the Pits open, the hungry shades and the tormented souls of Tartarus that will eventually wander out the gaping hole between the realms, and the Underlords surfacing so they can reignite the war between the gods—basically, all hell is literally going to be set loose on the world. We’re talking end-of-the-world, apocalypse-level violence and destruction.”
“Do you think he was telling the truth?” Dax asks, his eyes as wide as I’ve ever seen them.
“I don’t know. I thought, at the time, he was making it all up so I would give him Daphne—but I can’t shake the feeling now that he might have been telling the truth. He seemed too desperate. I’ve never seen him like that before.”
“If you’d believed him,” Daphne says from the table, looking up at me, “would you have made the vow to give me to him?”
I think about it for a moment—the thought of Daphne in my father’s control. The thought of his sacrificing her so he can become a god, no matter how altruistic his motives supposedly are. The idea of losing her …
“No,” I say. “There has to be another way to stop this.” Two days ago, I would have never believed that I would say something like that.
I kick at a warped floorboard on the deck. “Guess I can kiss that wreath of glory good-bye, huh? Nobody is going to be showering me with honor anytime soon.” I had meant that statement to be a lighthearted comment. To ease the tension everyone is feeling, but it came out more sullen and forlorn than I’d expected.