I hold my breath as I lift the hem of his tee to reveal the three scratches—only half healed and still an angry red—inscribed across his torso. It is only a partial relief to know the painful part of my vision is already behind him.
It also means he is still in pain.
He grabs my hand and yanks his shirt back down. “How did you know about that?”
I purse my lips and tap my temple. “Second sight, remember?”
He studies me. “You saw it?”
I nod. “Have you taken the antidote?”
“No,” he says. “There isn’t any.”
“The woman with the flaming hair,” I argue. “She said she would give it to you if you succeeded.”
He looks up at me, his dark eyes shuttered. “She lied.”
I scowl. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Shaking his head, he says, “It’s— Only the juice of a golden apple can counter her poison. The apples are fiercely guarded, their juice more valuable than ambrosia.”
“We’ll find some,” I say with as much certainty as I can muster. “Whatever it takes.”
“It’s fine,” he says, taking my hand in his. “It’s not fatal. Just painful.”
I squeeze his hand. He is so strong, but he believes himself to be so inadequate. Even if I can’t heal his pain, maybe I can make his emotional hurt better.
“You have not betrayed your family. The only thing that could betray their love,” I say, “is abandoning them in their time of need. And right now, until this thing is finished, Grace needs you.”
He frowns and shakes his head, like he doesn’t quite believe me.
“I need you.”
I reach down and wrap both my hands around his. When he looks up, I can see the hope in his eyes. And I can see the emotions, the same feeling of belonging I experience when I look at him. Maybe it’s not love—not the real thing, not yet—but it’s not the mixed-up magic of some mythological connection. It’s a beginning, and it’s worth fighting for.
He squeezes my hand, and I know he feels the same way. We’re in this together. Both of us. All of us.
“I don’t deserve you,” he insists.
“No one does,” I reply with a confident smile. “You’ll get used to the feeling.”
He laughs—actually laughs—and I feel it all the way in my toes.
“Good,” I say, releasing a contented sigh. “Now that everything is settled, I vote we enjoy this peace and quiet for a few minutes before we return to the fray.”
He tugs me closer to his side.
“Sounds perfect.”
I lean my head on Thane’s shoulder, thread my fingers through his so our hands are palm to palm, and join him in staring out over the pond and the peaceful hillside below. It’s quiet and restful—exactly what I need after the craziness of the last couple of days.
Exactly what we both need.
The world might be falling apart around us, but in this place, for these few moments, there is calm.
I can’t believe I’ve never been here before. A lifetime in the city, and I thought the Presidio was nothing more than parkland and military buildings.
The new construction of the buildings, with shiny glass offices and airy coffee shops, is kind of inspiring. Imagine looking out from your office each day, down over this beautiful hillside, over the trees and streets below. Cherry and magnolia trees dance among tiny periwinkles and late fall crocuses. I can imagine it looks beautiful in every season, with wave after wave of blooms and blossoms.
Just over the treetops, I can make out the roof of the Palace of Fine Arts.
Now that I know. It’s one of my favorite places in the city. If I ever ran away to think for a while, I’d plant myself on a bench in front of the lagoon on the east side. Despite its beauty and fame, there never seem to be too many tourists crowding the green space. They all flock to the Exploratorium inside, if they’re not zooming by on a bus to the Golden Gate Bridge. It’s a place where I could let time stop for a while.
Where I could watch ducks and children play and enjoy the elegance of the classical architecture.
Where I could soak up some sun—beneath a shield of high-SPF sunscreen—and pretend the bustling city was miles away.
Where I could wonder once more why the Grecian women in flowing gowns who circle the top of the structure face inward, away from the world. I’ve always thought they look like they’re crying.
Weeping, even.
Weeping . . .
“Oh my gods.” I jerk upright.
“What?” Thane asks.
I stare at him. “Oh my gods.”
“What?”
“I think I just found the door.”
He looks at me like I’m either insane or a genius. “What? Here?”
“No.” I point at the pale concrete dome peeking above the treetops. “There.”
She whispers, Finally.
“Then Gretchen ran out with Nick over her shoulder,” Grace says, nearly breathless, “and we took off down the pier. She was amazing.”
I hold the phone away from my ear and glare at it.
She hasn’t let me get a word in since I dialed her number. “That’s great, but—”
“You should have seen the look on those charcoal guys’ faces—what?” Gretchen says something to her in the background. “Oh, right—they’re Cacuses.”
“Grace, I—”
“It was priceless.” She takes a breath. “Have you found Thane? Is he—”
“Grace!” I snap.
Her silence is deafening, and I immediately feel bad for shouting. But she’ll understand once she hears my news.
“Look, I have something to tell you guys.” I try to calm my tone. “Can you put me on speakerphone?”
“Sure,” she says, sounding a little hurt, “hold on a sec.” The sound from her end changes, and then she says, “Okay, you’re on.”
“What’s up?” Gretchen asks.
“I seem to have a knack for finding things,” I say, smiling, “because I’ve found something important we’d lost.”
“Yay, you found Thane,” Grace cheers.
“No,” I say, annoyed. “I mean, yes, I found Thane.”
“Is he there?” she asks. “Is he okay?”
“Yes, he’s here,” I explain. “And yes, he’s fine.”
“Can you put him on?” Grace asks.
Fighting an eye roll, I punch the speaker button on my phone. “You guys are on speaker now too.” I glare at Thane. “Say hello.”
“Hey, Grace-face,” he says, his eyes on me. “I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, Thane,” she says, and I can hear the emotion in her voice. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
I give him a look that says, Yes, I know exactly how right I am.
“Is that all you found?” Gretchen’s voice makes it clear she’s not quite as forgiving as our sister.
“No, actually. I found one other thing,” I say, not trying to hide my pride. “Well, kind of.” I scan the area around the Palace lagoon. “I believe I’ve located the door.”
Grace gasps.
“Where are you?” Gretchen demands. When I tell her, she says, “Stay put. We’ll be right there.”
The phone goes dead. As I put mine away, I give Thane a sunny smile.
“That went well,” he says gruffly.
I smile bigger. “It did, didn’t it?”
He gives me that insane-genius look again. I take him by the hand.
“Come on, we can go watch the ducks while we wait for the girls.” As I tug him over to one of the benches, I ask, “Have you ever heard of a coot?”
CHAPTER 28
GRACE
I pull out my phone and find the note where I typed in the translation of the oracle’s riddle. It feels like a million years ago that Greer and I captured that monster and forced it to interpret the ancient Greek. We were so desperate to get Gretchen back, we risked everything.