Then, as if I weren’t standing right in front of her, she sidesteps me and continues on her way. She heads for the back room—for the ballroom and the gem-encrusted hall beyond, I’m guessing—and I turn in a half circle to watch her walk away. Without another word.

“That was close,” Xander says, shaking his head as Persephone disappears from view. “You’re lucky she didn’t—”

“Stupid cow,” I mutter.

“Whoa.” Xander lifts his hands in a defensive gesture. “That’s a little harsh.”

“She didn’t even recognize me.”

Xander scowls. “Should she have?”

“You would think,” I say, jamming my hands through my hair. “An ancestor god is supposed to recognize their descendants.”

Yes, weak-willed, harebrained, damsel-in-distress Persephone is my godly ancestor. Makes a girl proud. It’s not hard to guess why I’ve kept that juicy embarrassment a secret all these years.

I barely register the shock on Xander’s face before I turn and race away, ready to get as far from the underworld as possible.

9

Xander and I autoport back to the stadium and are immediately surrounded by our friends.

“Are you okay?” Phoebe asks.

I nod and she smiles.

Stella looks relieved as she launches herself at Xander.

While the pair attempts to make kissing an Olympic sport, Troy steps in front of me and pulls me into a crushing hug. I don’t know if it’s the odd sensation of his strong arms around me or the change to blue-sky Serfopoula from the darkness of the underworld or just the gravity of everything I’ve done—of what I’m about to do—but for a second I can’t breathe. I lift my arms and hug him back. My emotions crash down around me and I lean into him, grateful for his strength.

He has always been there for me, supporting me in whatever crazy thing I’m doing. I don’t think I ever realized how much I need him—and how much I take his presence in my life for granted.

It feels nice to be in his arms.

And Troy isn’t the only thing I’ve taken for granted. This world around me—with friends and trees and air that smells like the sea and sweaty teen athletes—is amazing. After trips to three other realms—every one but Abyssos—I’m prepared never to leave this one again.

Except that I have to.

Releasing Troy from my grip, I step back and ask, “Did you bring them?”

He drops his arms slowly, like he’s not sure what to do if he’s not hugging me anymore, and shoves his hands into his pockets. “You’re going now?”

“Troy,” I warn. “I told you to bring them.”