The nymph slowly lowered her hands. “Tell me, does she know she carries the fire element inside her?”
He swallowed hard. There was no sense lying. Not now. “Yeah.”
Her gaze flicked to his. Soft, light blue, compassionate eyes his forefather had once gazed into. “She ate hemlock. The fact the roots were missing tells me she knew that was the most poisonous part of the plant.”
“Can you heal her?”
The nymph’s gaze dropped to Natasa’s face. “No. The damage is already done. Her pulse is slow, but paralysis has yet to set in. She has, maybe, twenty-four hours left. Probably less.”
Titus’s eyes slid shut, and he braced his hands against the table, letting his head drop between his arms. He’d failed. They’d been so close to finding Calypso and locating her father and she’d gone and done something so stupid, so selfish…
“You care for her.”
It wasn’t a question but a statement. And why it unleashed a rush of fury inside him, he’d never know. He pushed away from the table and threw his arm out. Felt like slamming his fist through a wall. “I don’t just care about her. I love her, dammit. And she went and threw it away like it didn’t even matter.”
Calypso looked back at Natasa, lying still against the table. “Sometimes we have to let go of those we love in order to save them. I did that for Odysseus. He would have died here, trapped forever. He was meant to be free. She did this for you, so that you could live.”
For you…so he couldn’t have it.
He didn’t want to understand, but he did. She’d done this to kill the fire element within her. Too keep Prometheus’s wrath against the Olympians from being unleashed. To save him. Again.
Titus closed his eyes and sank against the back of a chair, nearly swept under by a tidal wave of misery so high it was all he could see.
“You came this far, Guardian,” Calypso said softly. “Use your gift.”
“The only way for the element to be free is at her rebirth.”
Calypso’s thought penetrated the despair. And in a rush, all the knowledge he’d received from the Orb came flooding back. Calypso was Atlas’s daughter, and Prometheus was her uncle. Zeus forbade the gods from uttering words about the Titan, but he didn’t prohibit thinking.
Death. Rebirth. The name Natasa was Old Greek, and it meant, literally, resurrection.
He pushed away from the chair, a renewed sense of urgency coursing through him. “Can he save her? Prometheus?”
“He can free her,” Calypso thought. “But he has to do it before the poison claims her and destroys the element.”
Titus didn’t care about the damn element anymore. All he cared about was the woman lying still against the table.
He reached for the nymph’s hand. “Touch me.”
Calypso’s brow wrinkled, but she lifted her hand and slowly lowered her palm against his.
Electricity flowed from her into him, a million thoughts and memories and emotions. A wave of nausea rushed through Titus’s body, and his knees buckled, but he gripped the table with his free hand, ground his teeth against the pain, and fought to stay in control.
When the transfer finished, he let go of her and sagged to his knees.
Calypso reached out to help him up.
He blocked her with his arm. Once was all he needed. “I’m”—he hissed out a breath—“fine.”
His strength returned quicker than in the past. A sign he was mastering control? He didn’t know, nor did he care. He pushed to his feet and reached out to pick up Natasa. “Thank you.”
The nymph closed a hand over Natasa’s arm. “Leave her. Where you’re going it’s not safe for her to travel. Find him, bring him here. I will watch over her. You have my vow.”
Titus didn’t want to leave Natasa, but the nymph was right. Thanks to the memory transfer, he knew exactly where Prometheus was chained, and he knew there was no way he could keep Natasa safe where he was going.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he nodded, leaned down toward Natasa, and brushed the hair back from her brow. “I’ll be back soon, ligos Vesuvius. I promise.”
She groaned and tipped her head his way as if she’d heard his words. Tears pricked his eyes, and his heart felt like it cracked open wide in his chest. He pressed his lips gently against her cheek, then whispered in her ear, “I love you, fire-girl. I’m not letting go of you. Don’t you dare let go of me.”
“Hades’s and Zagreus’s armies have withdrawn. Phin’s with Cerek, Orpheus and Skyla, burning the bodies and cleaning up the mess.”
Isadora sat perched against a pile of pillows in a bed in one of the suites of the colony, cuddling Elysia in her arms, listening to updates from Theron. Seated on the bed beside her, Demetrius leaned close and brushed his fingers over their daughter’s hand. Elysia yawned, then grabbed on to him, her tiny little hand barely wrapping around his masculine index finger.
Demetrius hadn’t left Isadora’s side, not since she’d gone into labor, and after everything that had happened in the delivery room, and everything he and Callia and Casey had told her had happened with Hades and Nick, she could see the guilt and fear eating away at him. She knew he was desperate to go after the brother he’d never seen eye to eye with but now felt he owed. But she also knew he was torn. He was already head over heels in love with their daughter—a fact that warmed Isadora from the inside out—and couldn’t bear leaving either of them just yet.
She understood. She felt the same. She didn’t want him anywhere but at her side. But Nick…
She looked up at Theron, who’d been none too pleased when he found out Casey had crossed to the human realm to help, and how close she’d come to death when Isadora’s situation had turned dire. Guilt washed through her, that she’d caused so much trouble for everyone during an already tumultuous time, but this was always the way it was going to be. Anytime any one of the three sisters was in jeopardy, the others would be affected. And Zander too, since Callia was his vulnerability.
Her gaze cut to Callia and Zander standing on the other side of the bed, he behind her rubbing her shoulders, she looking down at Elysia with a wide smile. This time, thankfully, tragedy had been averted.
It wouldn’t always be.
Her gaze slid back to Theron. She pushed thoughts of what could have happened out of her mind and focused on what they needed to do next. “The Misos can’t come back here. Now that Hades knows where they’re located, they won’t be safe. And with Nick gone…” Her heart pinched, and she cuddled Elysia closer, so very thankful for what Nick had done for her but afraid for him at the same time. “They’ll need to stay in Argolea.”
“The Council will throw a fit about that,” Demetrius said at her side.
Isadora didn’t care. She had bigger problems to deal with. Like how they were going to find Nick and save him from a hell he’d sacrificed himself to, all for her. It didn’t matter if he was Krónos’s son—though her stomach rolled at just the thought. All that mattered was that he’d saved her. Saved them. “The Council can kiss my ass.”
“When can she go back?” Theron asked Callia. “I don’t think it’s safe for her to be here where Hades knows he can reach her. Even with Nick as a prize, he’s going to be pissed he lost her soul. Especially since we now have Maelea.”
Thank the gods Maelea and Gryphon were back in Argolea with Max, getting the colonists settled. Things could have gone from bad to worse had Persephone’s daughter been in the room when Hades showed up.
“Tomorrow, probably,” Callia answered. “She should be strong enough by then.”