Meg was moving so fast, all she saw were greens, golds, and yellows as she whizzed through Asphodel Meadows. Finally, the sky in front of her started to come into focus and she saw a welcome sight: poppies. She wasn’t sure how the flames knew where to stop, but she was grateful they dropped her in the familiar field. By her calculations, she had less than a day, but in the Underworld, that might feel like an hour.

The grass was still damp from the recent storm, but people were out in droves again, already laughing and playing once more. Meg searched the field frantically for Katerina, silently praying she’d still be there. She felt a tap on her back and heard a child’s familiar giggle. She turned around.

“You’re back!” Layla held her hand out to Meg. “Are you looking for my sister again?”

Meg nodded, a lump forming in her throat as she thought about how she was trying to take Katerina away from her. “Yes.”

Layla’s small face clouded over slightly. “Did you find your mom? Thea?”

“Wow, you’ve got some memory,” Meg said admiringly. “But no, sadly, I keep missing her.”

Layla plucked a poppy and handed it to Meg. “That’s too bad. I’m sure she misses you, since you’re her child. Even though you’re no longer a child.” She laughed. “Everyone likes kids.”

“Sure.” Meg never thought she’d agree with that statement, but she had been taken with Cassia, and Layla was pretty special herself. “I lost her pretty young, though.”

Layla’s face scrunched up. “My mother didn’t get to be mine too long either.” She concentrated on the poppy in her hand and plucked off a few of the petals. The motion immediately made Meg think of the orchid again.

“It’s not fair,” Meg said softly.

“No,” Layla agreed and looked up at her with big, round eyes. “Did you come back to try to bring Katerina home to her baby?”

Meg knelt down. She couldn’t lie to her. “I’m going to try.”

“You should. She would be a good mother, and I know we’ll see each other again one day.”

“Yes.” The kid was wiser than her seven earthly years. Maybe that came from having been around so much longer than that. “But I don’t want you to be alone, either.”

“It would be nice to have someone,” Layla said thoughtfully. She broke into a grin. “But maybe I can.”

The child whispered something so quickly in her ear that Meg asked Layla to repeat it, just to be sure. She could feel her heart drumming and vibrating with anticipation, and unbelievably, hope. She leaned down and whispered back. Layla nodded.

Now she just had to convince Katerina to go. This time, she had to get this right.

Layla held tight to Meg’s hand. “Here comes my sister.”

She saw the woman rushing across the field toward them and steadied herself.

“You!” Katerina looked upset. “I told you not to bother us! Layla, get away from her.”

“Katerina, please,” Meg said, letting go of Layla’s hand. “I just want to talk to you.”

“Listen to her, Katerina. She can help you get home,” Layla said, and Katerina looked startled.

Katerina put a hand on Layla’s head and looked at Meg. “Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I am staying here. I don’t remember these people you speak of.”

“But—” Meg tried to interrupt as Katerina cut her off.

“No matter how many times you try to describe them to me, that won’t change,” she said, her voice softening. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I think you should go. Come along, Layla.”

“Katerina.” Layla frowned as her sister pulled her away.

“Layla, come on!” Katerina insisted.

Layla looked back at Meg, tears in her eyes. Meg tried to smile reassuringly, but hope was leaving her as well. She pulled out the hourglass again and her despair deepened. There was only a pinch of sand left. She was not going to make it.

She wasn’t the crying type, but if there was ever time to let go, this was it.

She had failed her quest.

Meg sank down into the wet grass and closed her eyes. She was not leaving the Underworld again. She would not become a god. Cassia would grow up without her mother, just like Meg had. She’d never again get to see Hercules’s face or apologize for the way she acted the last time they were together. Her last words to him had been cruel. How could she have wasted the time they’d had worrying about whether they were meant to spend eternity together? Why couldn’t she have realized how great things had been between them in the moment? She didn’t even have the remains of the orchid to remember him by.

Absentmindedly, her hand went to the satchel where she had kept the flower and her fingers brushed across something wooden. Meg pulled it out: Cassia’s rattle. The beads inside began to jangle around.

“Katerina?” Meg jumped up and rushed over to the retreating woman. She held out the rattle. “You should have this.”

For once, Katerina didn’t fight her. Her fingers closed over the rattle in Meg’s outstretched hand. Then she turned and walked away.

Meg watched her and Layla disappear into the field, all her hopes carried along with them. Maybe she hadn’t been sure of herself at the start of this journey, but as she got closer to reaching Katerina, she had started to believe she could complete her impossible quest.

The old Meg definitely wouldn’t have trusted anyone else to help her, would never have believed in leaps of faith. She also would not have been so successful at bargaining with Hades and winning over gods like Athena, Aphrodite, and Persephone. Even Hera had liked her resolution for Hades and Persephone’s love affair. So how could she have come so far and failed?

A breeze picked up and Meg ran her hands over her legs, rubbing them to keep warm. Her fingers grazed Athena’s flute.

Unhooking it from the strap, Meg stared at the instrument she’d saved for a god. You do not play as you once did, Athena had said, and it was true. Meg’s love of music had been wrapped up in her mother and then Aegeus, and after losing them both, she didn’t have the heart to play the way she used to. But now she looked at the flute and wondered. Her life was over. Would the flute disappear because she had failed her quest? If it did, would she ever get the chance to try it again?

Meg decided to place the reeds to her lips one last time. As the melody she played took hold, she thought about all this quest had taught her and all the things she’d never do again. The tune shifted into the first song she’d learned for her mother—“The Plight of the Lily.” It morphed into the song she had played with Aegeus, the sweet notes lifting into the air, and then the tune changed again. She thought about Hercules’s unwavering belief in her, about Mount Olympus and Katerina and this quest, and the notes unfurled into a new song altogether. She let the music take her to another place and time, and for a moment she continued with complete abandon. When she finally took a breath and opened her eyes, Katerina was standing in front of her.

Tears streamed down her face. “That was Aegeus’s song,” she whispered. “And you’re…?”

“Meg—Megara,” Meg supplied, her heartbeat quickening.

Katerina sank down on the grass, still clutching Cassia’s rattle. “I was married. I had a baby.” She looked ashen. “She was so young when I wound up here.” She grabbed Meg’s hands, her eyes widening. “Her name was Cassia and she already had wise eyes and a playful heart and a cry that cut deep into your soul.”

Meg felt her heart stop. “Yes!”

Katerina let out an anguished sob and held up the rattle. “Aegeus made this for our child when I was expecting.” She started to cry again. “I remember. I want to go back to my life. I want to see my baby.” She looked at Meg in horror. “Am I too late? Can you take me to her? I…” She turned around, startled, seemingly having forgotten her sister was standing behind her. “Layla…”

Layla reached for Katerina’s hand. “You have to go to Cassia. I’ll be okay, as I have been before. And we’ll see each other again. I can’t wait to meet your baby.”

Katerina stood and hugged the child fiercely, her face crumbling all over again. “Are you sure? Layla, I…”

“Go,” Layla insisted. “I promise you, I won’t be alone.” Layla glanced at Meg before kissing Katerina. Then she ran off over the hill without a second goodbye. It was probably better that way.

That kid really is amazing, Meg thought.

Katerina looked at Meg. “What do we do now?”

Time was running out, and there was no Persephone to speed up the journey. Persephone. Meg squared her shoulders, a new thought dawning on her—they needed to get to Persephone. Hera had said she was sending a boat for Persephone’s unique situation, but she hadn’t said the only passenger could be the god of vegetation. Could they hitch a ride? Their stories were entwined, after all.

“Persephone, don’t leave without us,” Meg prayed. Then she reached for Katerina’s hand and prepared to tell the woman to move her legs as fast as she ever had before. But before she could even utter the word run, the pair disappeared.