I nod, but before I can move or say anything at all, Mother’s telekinetic magic rips me away from Griffin and slams me up against the nearest cage.
For a moment, my ears ring, and I can’t breathe. But I don’t need breath or hearing to lift both hands and let twin bolts roll off them. I aim for her feet, and she leaps back from the charred stone, the hem of her dress singed.
My friends and brothers gasp. They didn’t know I could do that.
Growling his fury, Griffin helps to steady me. He looks me over with concern, but I’m fine. It takes more than one hit to rattle me.
Straightening away from the bars, I tap into Little Bean’s zip and zing to make sure she wasn’t too jostled. Her magic answers me reassuringly.
My own magic ignites. Lightning coils down my arm and gathers in the palm of my hand. I cock my head. “No potion needed. Your reign of terror is over, Mother. You’ve done enough harm.”
Her eyes dart beyond us to my friends. Power gathers around her, and she lifts her hand with clear malicious intent.
I send a lightning bolt straight through her raised palm just as the cages begin to rattle and rise. My aim has always been impressive. Mother cries out in pain.
“Don’t even think about it,” I say. “Or you won’t survive this.”
Breathing hard, she cradles her smoking hand against her chest. She still manages a scathing look. “Survive this? You’re as stupid as ever if you think to let your enemies live.”
“It’s not stupidity, Mother. It’s compassion.”
Her face goes momentarily blank. “Compassion? Why waste any of that on me?”
I huff. I can’t help it. “Truthfully? The damage you’ve caused and the lives you’ve taken make it very hard to choose this path. But I don’t think you would even ask that question if you weren’t craving compassion from someone.”
I glance at Griffin, so strong and solid by my side, letting me handle Mother the way I’ve chosen to. When we first found each other, I was a mess, full of conflict and fear. His steadfastness and unwavering faith in me helped to save me from myself, and from what I could have become. Right now, he’d kill Mother for me. Or he’d watch me kill her myself. He also understands this choice and how it’s a part of me—if Mother lets us make it.
I level a steady look on her. “Compassion has no rules. And Elpis abandons no one.”
She stares at me. I don’t think she breathes. I see her swallow.
“I don’t hate you anymore, Mother. That feeling has passed. I know joy, and you don’t. I’m sad for you. I’ll help you if I can.”
Her mouth trembles ever so slightly, and then she clamps her lips tight.
Where Mother is concerned, part of me thinks my choices should be more black and white, but instead, I feel like I’m still in Tartarus and see only in shades of gray. Maybe that’s what forgiveness looks like, or at least acceptance. Maybe that’s why Griffin likes my two-toned wings. Maybe that’s why I like them as well.
“Swear a binding vow to do no more harm,” I offer, “and I can let you live.”
Slowly, she shakes her head. “I can’t live in a cage of my own making.”
“But don’t you see?” I let lightning grow and crackle from my head to my feet. Thunder rumbles around me. “That’s the only way to live.”
“I’m already a prisoner,” she murmurs, her voice not quite steady. Her eyes meet mine. “I don’t even remember a before.”
Her unexpected words, a confession of sorts, nearly rip me in half. They’re the encouragement I needed from her. And the closest to an apology she’s ever given.
“What happened to you?” I ask. “What made you like this?”
Her gaze jumps to the cages still holding my friends, to Griffin, and then back to me again. For the first time in my memory, her face twists and her stony mask really cracks. “I never had anyone. Nothing like this.” Her good hand flies toward us but without any harmful magic this time. “I saw only one path.”
I step toward her, and to my undying satisfaction—no matter my capacity for compassion—Mother takes a step back. “Then you were blind. I would have helped you. Eleni would have helped you.”
She sucks in a sharp breath. “You hated me. You both did.”
“You gave us every reason to despise you. And then you did everything you could to nurture our hate.”
Her eyes start to glisten. I didn’t think Mother could cry. I thought it was anatomically impossible.
She blinks all traces of wetness away, and her voice hardens again. “It’s too late.”
“It might be,” I agree. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t try.”
Her gaze darts over me, over the manifest power at my command. “Your magic is impressive.” There’s nothing grudging in her words, almost like she’s relieved to see me finally coming into my own.
I nod. “You can’t win. I know it. You know it. Give me your binding vow.”
All artifice seems to strip from her face. Her voice drops in pitch. “Who are you?”
With that question, she might actually be seeing me for the first time. But I think she already knows. She’s used my humanity against me so many times. Some think I have too little. Others think I have too much. No one can decide, least of all me, but it’s there, and it defines me. Mother couldn’t take it from me, or make me into a different person. Empathy is a part of me, even now, when the stakes are at their highest, and it’s an all-or-nothing game.
Something I said during the Agon Games comes back to me. It was true then, and it’s true now. “I am mercy, but I am also death.”
She must read everything she needs to on my face. I’ve never wanted to kill her. But I will, if it comes to that.
She takes a deep breath, almost a sigh. “I envy your choices. Now, when it’s too late, I wish I could have made them myself.” The habitual scorn is absent from her words, and a look comes over her face that I hardly recognize on her usually hard and unfeeling features. Something selfless. Something close to peace.
Emotion bands around my chest. “It’s not too late,” I whisper.
“I’ve taken from you. So much. I understand that now.” She backs up another step. “It’s over now, Talia, but I can still give you one thing.”
Years of suspicion rise up in me. I try to find the twist in her words.
She pulls a dagger from her belt. Does she think she can kill me with that? Kill any of us? I’ll char her to dust first.
Mother lifts the knife but then abruptly turns it and drives it toward her heart.
I gasp in shock. My lightning stops raging around me, and the cavernous room dims. Sudden silence descends after the startled noises from Griffin and my caged brothers and friends. Mother staggers and then falls. Her hand drops to the side, leaving the dagger in her chest.
I lunge forward, crouching next to her. “Mother?”