The Goddess Test Page 76


“What?” I wiped my cheeks with the sleeve of my dress.

“Do you accept your failure and the consequences of it?”

No, of course not. This was a cruel joke, a mockery of justice. Henry and I finally had a shot at being happy, and now we’d both lost it. I couldn’t look at Henry or any one of the other faces surrounding me, unable to stand seeing their disappointment.

“I accept that the council has chosen to fail me, yes,” I said in a choked voice. “And I understand what it means.” Better than they did, apparently. “But I don’t think it’s fair that you’re doing this to Henry, and if there’s anything I can do to change your minds, I’ll do it.”

Walter eyed me, and there was something so intimidating about it that I wondered if he was going to smite me or whatever it was gods did to people they didn’t like. “You have failed, Katherine. There is nothing you can say that will change that fact.”

I blinked rapidly, struggling to pull myself together. I didn’t want Henry’s last memories of me to be this. Turning in my seat as much as I dared in order to face him, I managed to force out a small, “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t meet my eye, and I couldn’t blame him. I’d failed, and now he had to suffer for it.

Caught between anger and despair as the room seemed to press down around me, delivering blow after crushing blow, I wished more than anything that I could turn back the clock to that night in order to stop it from happening. Henry deserved so much more than this, and I wasn’t able to give it to him, no matter how badly I wanted to.

The silence seemed to echo in the ballroom as no one said or did anything. Only seconds passed, but it felt like an hour. As bitter disappointment settled in the pit of my stomach, one rational thought came to mind:

What now?

A noise from behind me caught my attention, and I tried to turn around to see what it was, but any movement now made my chest feel as if it were on fire. I heard the thud of a door closing, and the soft click of heels against marble echoed through the ballroom.

“Sister,” said Henry, his voice full of rich golden warmth that made my pain ebb away. As I looked into the faces of the other council members, I realized they all seemed happy and relieved. And smug, I noticed, glancing at Ava. Even James seemed happy to see her.

“Hello, Henry.”

All the air whooshed out of my lungs as her voice filled my head, chasing away my thoughts until there was nothing left but her. Forgetting the pain, I strained my neck to see her, watching as she greeted all but Calliope with a smile and a kiss on the cheek. Making her way around the circle, when she reached Henry, she stepped into his open arms.

In the back of my mind I realized I was gawking, but I couldn’t stop. She separated herself from Henry and took a seat in the throne next to him, the one made of branches and vines that had previously been empty, and something inside of me fell into place.

“Hello, Kate,” she said, and I opened and shut my mouth several times, but nothing came out. Finally I forced myself to swallow, and when I managed to speak, it came out more like a croak.

“Hi, Mom.”

CHAPTER 20

SPRING

My mother looked exactly as she had in my dreams. Healthy and whole, as if she’d never been sick a day in her life. But there was something about her, some indeterminable quality that made her seem as if she were glowing from the inside, like light straining to be released.

“What are you doing here?” As I asked it, I knew it was obvious. The only thing that kept me from seething was my joy at seeing her again, but even that was rapidly being replaced by confusion.

“I’m sorry,” she said with the same sympathetic smile I’d seen on her face a thousand times before. Every time I scraped my knee, every time I dragged home hours of homework and barely had time for dinner, every time a doctor had told us she only had months to live. In so many ways she was a stranger, but with that smile, she was still my mother. “Deception was the only way you could be properly tested. I never meant to hurt you, sweetheart. Everything I’ve ever done was to protect you and to keep you as happy as I possibly could.”

I knew she was telling the truth, but I couldn’t help but feel the humiliation of being duped. Even if it had been for my own good, that didn’t make me feel like any less of an idiot for not realizing who she was.

My own mother was a goddess. It wasn’t something I could simply shrug and accept.

“Diana,” said Walter, and she stepped toward me, the white silk robe she wore moving with her as if she were submerged in water. She wasn’t close enough for me to touch, but close enough for me to see that her eyes were shining. Whether it was from tears or pride or power, like Henry and his eyes made of moonlight, I couldn’t tell.

“For the seventh and final test, pride and humility.” My mother paused and smiled. “Kate passes.”

I didn’t understand. The ruling was over, wasn’t it? Hadn’t their decision already been made? I couldn’t fail any of the tests. Walter himself had said it. I waited for some kind of explanation, but it didn’t come.

“Those who agree?” said Walter.

Wildly I turned from face to face, but none of them gave any hint. Ava, Ella, even Henry gave no sign of what was happening. One after the other they murmured their agreement. To my surprise, Calliope, who looked so pale and miserable that I couldn’t help but feel a stab of sympathy for her, also nodded.

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