Goddess Interrupted
Page 15

 Aimee Carter

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Someone shouted behind me, and I thought I heard Henry call my name, but everything sounded far away as my heart thudded. I was going to die. We were all going to die. Somehow, someway, that thing could kill gods, and this time there wouldn’t be an afterlife. Not for immortals.
I wasn’t ready to go. Not yet. Not ever.
An eternity later, we f inally reached the doors, and I shoved Ava through. Dizzy with terror and agony, I grabbed the handle to keep myself upright and watched the battle raging on the opposite end of the hall.
Twelve members of my new family fought it, with Henry and James blocking the aisle from a force I couldn’t see. I could feel it though, deep within my bones and every nerve in my body. Whatever it was, it seemed to shake the very foundation of the Underworld.
Blood dripped down James’s exposed arm as he struggled to hold off the monster with his uninjured hand. Henry stood beside him, an unmovable force, and I couldn’t tear myself away.
“Brothers!” cried Henry. “On my count!” The three brothers moved in toward the fog, and the others moved in behind them in a triangular formation, immeasurable power radiating from each of them. Dylan and the redheaded Irene took the lead, but they didn’t have a chance to attack.
In the blink of an eye, Henry and his brothers f lew upward and out the window, taking the fog with them.
After the explosion of battle, the silence rang in my ears, and I f inally let myself slump to the f loor. Most of the remaining members of the council milled together near the thrones, but James and my mother hurried toward us.
James reached me f irst, and he dropped to his knees several feet away, his momentum sliding him toward me. “It got you, didn’t it? Theo!” he yelled over his shoulder, and I winced.
“Stop it,” I said. “You were hit, too.”
“Yes, but the difference is, if I die, Henry won’t rip the world apart.” His good hand hovered over my injured knee, not daring to touch me yet. I didn’t blame him. Blood dripped down my leg, pooling at my heel, and now that the threat was gone, however temporarily, every nerve in my body felt like it was on f ire. I’d never been in this much pain before in my life, not even when Calliope had killed me and thrown my body in a river.
My mother reached us and observed the damage, but she said nothing. Instead she slipped behind me and took Ava by the elbow. Now that the f ight was over, some color had returned to Ava’s cheeks, and when my mother tried to lead her away, Ava remained planted in front of me.
“You saved me,” she said, shaking like she was barefoot in the snow. “He would’ve killed me if you hadn’t pushed me out of the way.”
“It was nothing,” I said. “You would’ve done the same for me.”
Ava was silent. My mother moved to push her past me again, but this time Ava dropped down beside me, opposite James. “You don’t understand,” she said, her blue eyes wide and earnest. “They’re the only things that can kill us, and you saved my life.”
Caught between burning curiosity and agony, I said tightly, “Why did it attack us? Why didn’t it go after Henry and Walter and Phillip instead?”
“Because Calliope sent him,” said James, still fussing over my leg. He called over his shoulder, “Theo, she needs you now, not next week.”
Theo shuff led down the aisle toward us, his curly hair falling in his eyes. Ella matched his pace, but she focused on the ground, and her forehead was furrowed deeply. The only time I’d seen her look like that was when Theo had been attacked at Christmas last year. It was jarring, seeing the ever-conf ident Ella look as if she didn’t know up from down, and my stomach twisted.
“He got her,” said James, gesturing to my leg. Theo knelt down beside me and set his hands above my knee. I’d been healed by Henry before, and I expected the same comforting warmth to come from Theo.
Instead f iery light spread through the wound, pushing out the deep, agonizing pain. Burning heat replaced it, and I gasped, positive my leg was going to turn to ash and fall off. I didn’t dare open my eyes, and even when his hands pulled away, the pain remained.
“Done,” said Theo, and I heard him rise to his feet.
“There is nothing I can do for the scar.” Gathering what was left of my courage, I cracked open an eye, relieved when I saw that my leg was still attached, and by all accounts it looked perfectly normal. But when I tried to wiggle my toes, the f ire started all over again.
“If it’s healed, then why does it still hurt?” I said, panicked. What if the pain never went away? How was I supposed to live with that? Had Henry experienced the same thing in his chest? How could he have possibly fought that thing again if he had?
“Because there is no power in the world that can take away the pain until it is ready to leave,” said Theo. “It’s not an ordinary wound. It won’t last longer than a few days, because he is still so weak, but there is nothing I can do for you until then.”
“He?” I gingerly touched the thin silver line that ran across my knee. “You’re all calling it a he.” Theo nodded toward my mother. “I will leave this in your capable hands to explain. If you will excuse us.” He slipped his arm around Ella’s waist and headed back toward the cluster of remaining council members. They all sat in the pews again, their heads bent together as they spoke among themselves. As Theo and Ella approached, Dylan, Ava’s ex from Eden High School, rose to make room for them. Even from across the massive hall, I could feel his eyes on us.