This guy sounds like he’s lost his marbles.

But the sharp glare he throws my way is completely clear.

“Forgive me,” he says, stepping close. “I have been alone too long. You summoned me for a reason.”

“Yes,” I say, trying not to stammer. “I need to travel back in time.”

His blue eyes narrow. “Need to?”

“I—” Darn it. “I want to.”

It’s a struggle to hold my emotions in check as memories invade. Memories of Mom and Dad. Griffin’s parents. The happy times on Mount Olympus. The nights I cried myself to sleep in my dorm room. It all swirls around in my mind.

Chronos studies me. I hope he can’t read my thoughts, because they’re a total mess. I try to get them under control, to keep my reasons for wanting to time travel a secret.

“For what purpose?” he asks.

“To observe.” I have to give him a believable answer that is not the truth. “It’s research.”

He steps so close I can smell the mothball scent that surrounds him. “Do you intend to alter the past?”

“No,” I lie without hesitation.

Traveling back in time, breaking one of the unbreakable rules, is bad enough. According to the book, even though changing something in the past doesn’t mess with the present, even Chronos disapproves of messing with godly decree. If he thinks I’m going back to circumvent an Olympic punishment, then he will deny my request.

I hold my breath and focus my thoughts as he scrutinizes me.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity but is probably more like ten seconds, he snaps his fingers. A shiny gold coin appears in his hand.

“This,” he says, holding the coin in front of my eyes, “is your key back to the present. It will return you to your time of departure.”

He grabs my wrist and carefully places the coin in the center of my palm. It’s heads up and I instantly recognize the face as that of Chronos as an old man.

As he closes my fingers around the cool metal disc, he says, “The other coin, your key to the past, must be given by your godly ancestor.”

Yay. Quality time with the bimbo queen.

“Know this,” he says. “With the other coin you can choose only the date. You will arrive at whatever hour of day you leave this point in time, and so you must wait until the hour you wish to visit before initiating your journey.”

I squeeze my hand into a fist, my heart racing.

“When your ancestor grants the coin,” he whispers, leaning forward to speak next to my ear, “picture the date in your mind and you will be transported.”

I can’t move. I’m stunned frozen by the realization that I’m this close. That I have in my hand the ability to fix everything. I’m only one chat with Persephone away from making things right.