I awake to the smell of lavender, vanilla, and pomegranate lip gloss. All the scents that remind me of Daphne. I am slow to open my eyes, knowing it’s too good to be true, for I had been dreaming of her since I fell asleep. Finally, I open them and find that I am in Daphne’s bedroom, lying in her bed, her white bedspread tucked all the way up to my chin. I vaguely recall Joe leading me up here while I laughed hysterically about something that had seemed quite funny at the time.
My mouth is dry. My head throbs. And nothing seems all that funny anymore.
A sudden pressure lands on my chest, making me cough. Brim stands on my sternum glaring at me with her bright green eyes. She growls in displeasure and I wonder what I have done to upset her—and then I remember leaving her behind and driving away. And then getting struck by thunder instead of a car. No wonder I ache all over.
“I’m sorry, Brim,” I say. “I don’t know why . . . I wasn’t in my right mind. I am so sorry for leaving you behind. I promise I won’t do it again.”
Brim is placated by my apology and her growl turns to a purr.
I lift my hand to scruff her cheeks, and see the blue-gray veins sitting under my skin. At least they aren’t inky black.
After I give her a good scratching, Brim allows me to get up. I dress myself in a pair of pants—Joe’s, I suppose, from how tight they are—and an old Saturn’s Ring T-shirt that have been left on the edge of the bed. With Brim perched on my shoulder, I make my way downstairs. I find the rest of the group sitting around the dining room table. Even Lexie, who I had assumed would have returned to her own home at some point, sits with a bowl of colorful loops in front of her. Brim jumps down from my shoulder and bounds over to the bowl of canned fish someone has left out for her in the corner.
“Morning,” I say, tentatively standing in the doorway.
The others glare at me. I’m not sure if it’s because I had very callously informed them that I returned to the mortal realm without Daphne and the Key. Or because of the rap song—one I’d learned after buying the entire contents of a music store when I first arrived in Olympus Hills—I had decided to sing at the top of my lungs until one o’clock in the morning.
Now that I think about it, that song is much cruder than I remembered it being.
“Looks like someone is feeling more like himself,” Jonathan says. “If not a little worse for wear.” I notice that Jonathan is a little worse for wear himself. His left shoulder is bandaged and he wears his arm in a sling. Dark circles under his eyes mar his otherwise jovial features.
“What happened to you?” I ask.
“As I told you last night, your brother happened to me,” Jonathan says. “I tried to stop him from dragging you, unconscious, into the Underrealm. I shot at him with a black arrow but he got off a good blast. I am afraid I missed my mark for the very first time. I take it from the black poison spreading through your veins and your standing in oncoming traffic that the arrow hit you instead of your brother.”
So it is poison that was seeping through my veins. I recall the details now, that the poison will eventually cause me to lose the ability to feel anything at all. Just as I recall that Jonathan attempted to explain this all to me last night—while I threw kernels of microwave popcorn at his head, trying to coax him into catching them in his mouth.
I shudder, not merely at my cavalier behavior, but at the recollection of how empty and hollow I had felt in those last minutes before getting struck by Ethan. I had wanted to embrace it at the time, but the idea of slipping back into that nothingness terrifies me now.
“Daphne took the cure with her,” Jonathan says, “but from your current state, I assume she was unable to administer it.”
I shake my head, now sure what it was supposed to be.
“So Daphne’s really trapped?” Joe asks. He sits on the edge of his chair, hands shaking.
I blink, remembering now that they had tried to question me about what had happened in the Underrealm, but I hadn’t exactly made the best interrogation subject. At one point I had made a hat of one of the platinum records that hang on Joe’s living room wall and tried to challenge Ethan to a dance-off. And I don’t even know what a dance-off is. I don’t feel any mirth about the situation now, which means the effects of Jonathan’s dart must be waning.
Whatever it was he dosed me with helped to ease off the black poison and also made me act the fool. I’m chagrined by my behavior from last night, but it was still preferable to the overwhelming despair that haunts the edges of my thoughts. I can feel it trying to creep back in.
“Yes,” I say, finally answering Joe’s question about Daphne.
“There’s no way to get her back? We can’t storm the gate or . . . something?”
I swallow hard. Without the Key, Persephone’s Gate only opens on its own on the fall and spring equinoxes. Our plan had been to use the Key to open the gate a day early, beating the spring equinox, hoping to give ourselves the element of surprise to go in after the Keres. Nothing had gone according to plan, though, and now the Key was lost once more—somewhere in the Underrealm—and the spring equinox came and went while I was in the black sleep. “Persephone’s Gate won’t open again for another six months,” I say, the idea sounding considerably less amusing than the first time I went over the facts with them. “Daphne claimed to know where the Key was, but I’m pretty sure she was bluffing. Her right nostril crinkles a little bit when she’s lying.”
Jonathan gives a sad smile. “You’re right. But don’t ever tell her that.”
Joe sighs and runs his hand down the side of his face. “I should know that. And I should have been there. She was expecting me to come.”
A flash of anger bursts in my chest. Joe should have been there. If he hadn’t been incapacitated then I wouldn’t have had to send Garrick in his place . . .
“I don’t know what happened,” Joe says. “I was fine—a little parched from running around backstage. I asked someone to bring me my water bottle and then suddenly everything was spinning. I don’t remember much after that until . . .”
“I woke you up in a pool of your own drool,” Lexie says, finishing for him. “That happens when you get super drunk . . . Or, um, so I’ve heard.”
Joe buries his face in his hands. “I swear I wasn’t drinking again. I don’t know what happened. All I know is that if I had been there for her—”
“Don’t blame yourself,” I say, feeling compassion rather than anger. “It was an ambush on both sides of the gate. First Terresa and then Rowan in the grove, and then the Court’s army as soon as I was through the gate.” I give the others another brief recounting of what I remember happening in the Underrealm—in case they weren’t able to make full sense of what I told them about it last night. What with all the laughing and dancing, and tossing things at people, my previous account may have been less than coherent. After I tell them about Garrick taking the crown and the deal Daphne made with him, I fold my cold arms in front of my chest. “Absolutely nothing went as we expected. I’m the one to blame—I should have been more prepared. I should have considered other options.”
“If only you’d taken me up on my offer,” Ethan says. He had wanted to join forces and use the Eternity Key to take a group of his own loyal Skylords to storm the Underrealm and kill the Keres. It had seemed too risky at the time. I didn’t know if I could trust him not to do more damage to my world than he was claiming. If only I’d listened. Or if only I’d just given Rowan the Key to bring back to my father on his own—even that seemed like a better alternative than leaving Daphne behind.
If only she hadn’t loved me enough to trade her freedom for mine. There were so many if onlys.
Heat pricks at the back of my eyes. I cover my face, feeling as if I am about to cry.
“Seems like the giddiness has worn off,” Lexie says.
“Thank Zeus,” Ethan mumbles.
“Not good,” Jonathan says so gravely that I drop my hands and stare at him. “Based on when you fell asleep last night, the dart started to wear off after only three hours. Your metabolism is too quick. I told Daphne that it would take two weeks for the black arrow’s spell to take you over completely, but it’s only been a couple of days and we already almost lost you once.” He pulls a handful of colorful darts from the quiver that is slung over his dining chair. “These emotion darts will help push it off, but these four are the only ones I have left. At this rate, you’ll burn through them in no time.”
“How much time exactly?” I ask.
“If I ration one per day, then perhaps five or six days. Maybe less. It means you’ll have to deal with the mood swings—sadness, anger, despair—and other negative side effects for as long as possible between injections.”
Negative side effects. That is putting it mildly. The sadness and anger I can handle. The despair is worse. But it’s the parts where I feel nothing—like the moment before the car was about to hit—that terrify me. The irony that I had spent so much of my life pretending to be emotionless and unaffected isn’t lost on me. I let the tears come that burn in my eyes now. Because feeling something is better than feeling nothing.
“If only Daphne had been able to administer the cure,” Jonathan says. “A red arrow wasted . . .”
“Red arrow?” I ask. “That was the cure?” I pull the collar of the shirt down to show the others the fiery red wound just above my heart. “She stabbed me with it. Why isn’t it working then?”
Jonathan gasps at the sight. “Did she kiss you?”
“Kiss me?” I think of Daphne trying to kiss me over the altar in the throne room. My mind had been poisoned against her at the moment, and I had been so shocked, felt so betrayed, after she stabbed me with that red arrow, I had actually fought her off. “She tried but didn’t get the chance.”
It wasn’t until moments later, when the black poison that had been clouding my mind receded for a moment, that I even grasped the words she had said before trying to give me the cure—that she loves me. But by then it had been too late. I had been dragged away for execution, and in her desperation to save me, she had pledged herself to Garrick in exchange for my banishment instead of my death.
Jonathan’s brow furrows. “The arrow Daphne used to try to cure you contained a true love spell. Meaning that it would only work as a cure for someone who had found their true love. But it must be sealed with true love’s kiss.”
“And she knew this?” I ask, my mind whirling at the thought.
“Yes,” Jonathan says. “I made sure of it. I wouldn’t have let her go after you if that had not been the case.”
That means Daphne truly loves me. The words she’d said weren’t merely something she felt in the heat of the moment. Daphne is my true love, and I am hers.
“However, I worry the lack of sealing the cure has accelerated the black arrow’s poison,” Jonathan says gravely.
“Will it still work?” Lexie asks. “If Daphne kisses him before it’s too late, will it still seal the cure?”
Jonathan nods, but I can tell from the grim look on his face that he’s thinking what we all already know: I have only six days, maximum, before the poison takes me, and there are six months until the gate will open again to the Underrealm.
“Getting Daphne out of there as quickly as possible is my number one priority, regardless of what it means to me.”
“And Tobin,” Lexie says pointedly. “You’re not leaving without Tobin again.”
“Tobin?” I blink at her. “You mean Tobin isn’t here?”
Ethan and Jonathan both shake their heads. “He went with Daphne and Garrick to find you,” Jonathan says.
“You never saw him?” Lexie asks. “Daphne didn’t say anything?”
I shake my head. “I have no idea what happened to him.”
Lexie presses her fingers to her lips and sits on the couch next to Joe. I know exactly how both of them feel, which means I am in a rational state . . . for the moment.
“We need to make a plan while I’m still thinking clearly,” I say. “Regardless of what’s happening to me, we need to find a way to get Daphne—and Tobin,” I say, nodding to Lexie, “out of the Underrealm.”
“What about Garrick?” Ethan asks.
“I don’t think he’ll want to leave now that he has the crown.”
Ethan crosses his arms. “Yes, but is he a threat?”
“I’m not sure. There was something off about what happened. As if he knew all along that he was going to come out on top . . . like he orchestrated it.” I shake my head, not sure where my brain was going with that.
“Garrick was the one who brought me my water bottle,” Joe says as if suddenly remembering. “It tasted funny. Acrid. And then everything is foggy after that. Do you think he drugged me?”
I nod, starting to understand—though it’s hard to believe—what role Garrick may have played in our plan falling apart. “So he’d be the one I’d send after Daphne when Dax disappeared,” I say. “Alas, how would he know Dax would go missing—unless he somehow orchestrated the call that supposedly came from Abbie, luring him away? With both Dax and Joe out of the way, he had the opportunity he needed to take Daphne into the Underrealm, making himself the default heir.”
“We’re all talking about the same Garrick, right?” Lexie scoffs. “All that kid cared about was perving on cheerleaders and playing Xbox. I doubt he’s some mastermind who could pull off usurping the king on purpose.”
“Unless that’s the way he wanted you see him,” Ethan says. “Most of the world knows me as a drawling truck driver, most of this town thinks I’m a schoolteacher, and up until yesterday, most of the Sky Army thought I was on their side. Maybe the boy only plays the part of the simpleton.”
Simpleton isn’t exactly a word I would use to describe Garrick. However, I understand what he means. I feel anger rolling through me at the idea that Garrick may not be what he seems, but I try to push it away. I need to concentrate on the problem at hand before I lose control again. “Garrick’s involvement is beside the point right now.”
“Garrick is the only point I care about.” Ethan shoves his hand toward the ground, pointing. “A child sits on the throne of the Underrealm now, and I need to know what his intentions are. What will he do if he finds the Key? Will he be able to stop the Court from using it to free the Keres?” He puts his hand on the hilt of his sword. He looks so strange standing in Joe’s modern dining room in his full Skylord armor. “While I feel for you and your lost friends, my mission remains the same. The Keres must be destroyed.”
“Then we should join forces after all,” I say, stepping toward him. “You can’t destroy the Keres without Daphne, if you remember that detail. Her voice is the only thing that will make them solid enough to kill. Which means rescuing her should be the top priority for both of us.” I don’t know how I feel about putting Daphne in harm’s way once again, but I do know that I need all the help I can get to bring her home. “Help me find Daphne, and we’ll help you destroy the Keres once and for all.”
Ethan nods and extends his hand. I clasp it and he gives it a good shake before pulling it away.
“Good,” I say. “Now, if only we knew a way to get back through Persephone’s Gate without it being an equinox . . .”
A quiet pall falls over the group. Joe covers his face with his hands again. Lexie picks at the colored loops that have grown moisture-logged in her bowl, and Ethan shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Apparently, I am not the only one who is at a loss for an idea.
“Wait,” Jonathan says, standing and swinging his nearly empty quiver over his shoulder as if he were ready to run off into battle. “I think I know of someone who might be able to help us.”
We all turn toward him. “Who?” I ask.
“Who would know more about coming and going from the underworld than Persephone herself?”
“Persephone?” The goddess of my realm had walked away centuries ago, after Hades was killed. Most Underlords presumed her to be dead. “You know where she is?”
“Not exactly, but I do remember hearing rumors about a century ago—give or take a couple of decades—that she was taken prisoner by the Skyrealm.” Jonathan gives Ethan an expectant look.
Ethan nods. “I’ve heard those rumors as well, though I’ve never been able to confirm them. I have to admit I always assumed it was part of my grandfather’s propaganda campaign against the Underrealm, but I suppose they could be true. However, if that’s the case, they’ll be holding her in the Black Hole.”
“Black hole?” Lexie asks. “Like a literal black hole? Because that’s a little intense.”
“No, not a literal one, but almost as hard to get to. My grandfather has a secret underground prison where he keeps important political prisoners.”
“How can something in the Skyrealm be underground?” Lexie interrupts.
“Ever heard of Mount Olympus?” Ethan asks.
“Only from your, like, five-thousand-page homework assignments,” Lexie says. “According to Greek mythology, the important gods live on some floating mountain in the sky . . . Oh,” she says, getting it, “the Skyrealm is a floating mountain?”
“Yes. And the Black Hole is a prison inside the mountain. If my grandfather has Persephone, that’s where he’d be holding her. However, the prison is a labyrinth, whose entrance magically moves on a regular basis. The schedule of which is only known to a handful of my grandfather’s personal lieutenants.”
“I gather that you are not one of them,” I say.
“Unfortunately, I lost that privilege after my brief sabbatical in the mortal world before returning to the Skylord army. Besides, I showed my hand when I fought against the Skylords in order to safeguard Persephone’s Gate. I wouldn’t be surprised if my grandfather wants to throw me in the Black Hole now. And I would be even more surprised if there isn’t a bounty on my head.”
I remember now that the thing I had found oh so funny just before being ushered off to another wing of the house had been Jonathan and Ethan’s description of a skirmish between them and Terresa’s troop of Skylords. Ethan had wanted the Key so he could kill the Keres before they could be unleashed on the five realms, but Terresa had been hell-bent on crashing through the gate in order to exterminate every last member of my Underlord race. If it hadn’t been for Jonathan and Ethan’s protection, she may very well have succeeded. Ethan had fought valiantly when Terresa and her army wouldn’t listen to reason, and Jonathan had lasted for as long as he could with his injured shoulder and depleting supply of arrows. All had almost been lost, until a band of Ethan’s own men had arrived and chased the remaining soldiers off. Ethan claimed that the Skylords won’t return now that the gate is closed once more.
The battle had been so fierce, with lightning starting fires, that Ethan had brought down a torrent of rain to put them out. To the residents of Olympus Hills, it had looked like the wrath of the heavens had opened up on them. The mayor, most likely knowing that wrath was really the Skylords, issued an immediate, mandatory evacuation.
Which is why the town had seemed abandoned when I returned—and the idea that I had practically thrown myself in front of a moving car because I’d thought everyone I knew had been destroyed, when really they were hanging out in the next town over, had sent me into hysterical laughter last night. It is hardly funny now.
Ethan clears his throat as if he senses my attention has wandered. “However, we do know someone who can lead us to the prison.” He points his finger upward. I don’t know if he means to indicate the upper floor of the house or the Skyrealm.
“Who?” I ask, following his gesture to the ceiling.
“Terresa,” Ethan says. “She became one of my grandfather’s lieutenants while I was on my sabbatical. If there’s anyone we can get close to who can tell us the location of the Black Hole, it’s her. Terresa can take us to Persephone.”
“Terresa?” I stare at him, trying not to let my poisoned brain dwell on the fact that the only person who can help us find Persephone is a power-hungry Skylord who would sooner kill me and my entire race than offer any semblance of assistance.
Hades, help us. We’re doomed.