Priska opened the door, screamed, and then burst into tears.

Hope stood on the brick doorstep with the paper-wrapped bouquet of daisies, staring at her aunt’s rounded belly. Hope had left Athan and Xan at the hotel they’d just rented, knowing this visit had to happen before she could go to Olympus.

The smell of banana bread wafted out the door and teased Hope with the sense of hominess. Her aunt’s tears nearly undid Hope, and she swallowed the lump in her throat. After an eternity that was no more than a heartbeat, she closed the distance and hugged her very pregnant aunt.

Priska wrapped her arms around Hope, pulling her close, and sobbed into her shoulder. Hope stepped into the house and walked them into the two-story foyer, kicking the door shut.

“Darling, what’s the matter . . .” Charlie Davenport rounded the corner and stopped.

Hope looked at the man, her lawyer, her aunt’s boyfriend, or was it husband? He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a soft gray sweater. His head was cleanly shaven, as was his face. He was handsome, for an older man. And he was wearing an apron. He was everything her aunt deserved. “Hi, Charlie.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Hope, sweetheart. I’m so glad you made it back to us.”

Priska kept one arm around Hope as she wiped her tears and led them both into the living room. “You got out.”

“You, too.”

“Holy Hades, you both had me scared.” Charlie hugged them both.

He smelled of expensive cologne and almond extract. The fact that he’d been in the kitchen baking made Hope smile even bigger.

Priska led Hope to the couch, and the two of them sat. The oven beeped, and Charlie excused himself to pull out the bread.

“How long have you been back?” Hope asked, pointing to her aunt’s belly.

Priska coughed then cleared her throat. “Almost two years.” She shook her head. “I was gone for three, and you’ve been gone for five. Charlie almost put your trust into probate, but I had this feeling . . .”

It had been quite a shock to Hope as well when they’d gone to the conservatory to get Athan’s things. But five years was not enough to take away the repugnance of Hope being a monster or the rules of demigods only .

“Is it different?”

Priska practically glowed with happiness. “Yes, but not altogether. I don’t feel that different, unless I get sick. And it seems that whatever you did, and I want to hear every single detail, made it so that both Charlie and I age slower. I’m told I look like I’m in my thirties, and I swear he hasn’t aged a day since I’ve been back.”

Hope skimmed over most of her time in the Underworld, just the few details that Xan and Athan had helped her piece together of her memory, and the bargain she had made to confront Hera in return for Priska’s life. “It was the best I could think of.”

“The Fates?” Priska nodded. “My life force would be tied to Charlie’s now. But my immortal blood wouldn’t be fully changed.” Priska rested her hand on Hope’s knee. “It is the best it could be. The idea of losing Charlie . . . like I lost Eryx.”

There was a myth associated with that name, the story of a king killed by Heracles over immortal cattle. Surely, she couldn’t mean . . .

“I don’t want to have to go through that again. So thank you.” Priska leaned forward and kissed Hope on the cheek. “And now what?”

Hope let out a slow breath. “We are to go to Olympus. I need to confront Hera with her lie and, more importantly, Apollo about the curse.”

Although she was less sure about the last part. She knew it needed to happen, but not exactly what to say. She knew it had something to do with that yellow Book of the Fates she’d brought back. And something to do with her father. She still couldn’t believe that her mother and father were happy. Together. Every time she thought of how her father had abandoned them, her anger flared and she wanted to hit someone.

“Oh!” Priska jumped up and waddled down the hall. She returned carrying a familiar red leather tome. “This is yours.”

Hope cradled her Book of the Fates to her chest. “How did you get it?”

They’d left it in the hotel when they went to Pike Place. It seemed like forever ago and more like a dream than reality as Priska sat back down in front of Hope.

Priska waved her hand at the question. “Charlie got it.” Her face glowed. “He tracked us down and got all of our stuff. He’s . . .”

“Amazing,” Hope finished for Priska.

The older woman nodded, her eyes filled with unshed tears. “So you’re going to Olympus. Do you have a guide?”

Charlie came into the living room with a plate of banana bread and two glasses of milk on a tray. “A little snack?”

Priska patted the ottoman as she gazed at her husband adoringly. As soon as the plate was in front of her, she reached for a slice.

Hope thought of Xan and Athan. Guides? She’d spent the better part of two days crying over Dahlia when Xan told of her binding to the goddess Hecate. While Dahlia wasn’t dead, she was bound in the Underworld, and from what Xan said, she may as well be dead. Both Xan and Athan had been there. So, no they weren’t guides. But, they would help, and they’d made it out of the Underworld. Something that was nearly impossible. “I have help.”

“Then let’s enjoy our time, okay?” Priska broke off a piece of the warm bread and popped it into her mouth.

“Yes,” Hope said as she reached for the bread.

Priska curled up on the couch, the picture of marital and family contentment. “When do you leave?”

The bread caught in Hope’s throat. She coughed, reaching for the glass of milk. While she drank, she gave herself a pep talk. This was it. And Priska deserved to know.

“Tomorrow.”