THE THINGS YOU CAN’T SEE COMING

Nobody looked back until the lights of Kincade were far behind, an orange glow thrown up into the black sky as the Mustang flew down the highway. It was close to four in the morning. The road was empty except for a few scattered semitrucks. They’d waited until Cassandra’s parents were asleep to leave. Then they’d waited longer, dragging their feet until Aidan finally grabbed their bags and took them silently to the car. Henry was the last to come. He’d knelt on the front steps with his dog, scratching his ears and whispering. Then he’d locked Lux up inside and helped Aidan push the Mustang down the driveway and along the road until they were far enough away to start the engine.

“Is anybody hungry?” Aidan asked from behind the wheel. He’d suggested he drive, since he wouldn’t get tired, but any of them could have done it. Cassandra had never felt more awake in her life. “We could stop at the travel plaza and get something from the gas station. Some chips or soda or something.”

“We’ve got a full tank. Let’s wait.” Cassandra glanced over her shoulder. “Andie, I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier.”

“It’s okay. I’m sorry for—you know—being myself.” She shrugged, her face pale and washed out. She was okay for the moment. They all were. But sooner or later it would get bad. Sooner or later they’d realize what they’d left behind, that their lives had been severed and they couldn’t go back.

Let it feel unreal. For as long as it can.

“Aidan, do you even need to eat?” Andie asked. “I mean, you eat all the time, but do you need to? You don’t get tired, so do you need to sleep?”

He swallowed. “Yes. No. I don’t necessarily need to eat. But I want it. And a god needs to do what he wants.” He and Cassandra glanced at each other, waiting for Andie’s smart-ass comment, but it never came.

Trees flashed by in the Mustang’s headlights. The road was still damp, but the sleet had stopped. If Cassandra strained her eyes against the interstate floodlights, she could see stars in the sky.

“Where are we going exactly?” Henry asked.

“I don’t know,” Aidan replied. “Away. Just away.” His foot pressed down on the accelerator, taking them south.

* * *

Hera had never been known for her subtlety. When she made announcements, she liked them to be loud and shiny, taking up all the air in the room. This time was no different. She leveled two buildings in Philadelphia: one an office building on Market Street and another along the western edge of Logan Square. Both were skyscrapers, stretched buildings of steel and windows that shone like crystal as the sun moved over the city. She seemed to choose them completely at random, though both did have a relatively high composition of glass. Athena supposed she wanted to watch it fly, glittering prettily in the light before it embedded itself into other buildings and the soft flesh of people passing by.

The news, of course, leapt all over it. Death tolls were estimated to be in the thousands. Various terrorist groups cropped up to claim responsibility, and they were already linking it to the Chicago attack. But Athena knew a diversion when she saw one. Resources from the surrounding states would be drained, called in to deal with the carnage. The stables would be left empty and the drawbridge unguarded. Hera could slink into Kincade casually, wreak her havoc, and leave their stinking carcasses far behind long before any human authorities came around to gawk.

In the room at the Kincade Motel 6, two gods and a reincarnated mortal watched the TV, barely breathing. Images of smoke and flashing emergency lights played across their irises. None of them needed to say anything. They sat on the garish bedspreads and Athena clicked through channels, searching for new information, looking for the whole story. The humans weren’t getting it.

Buried within the emergency news broadcasts, almost as a footnote, were reports of a storm rapidly approaching the East Coast. They were calling it a nor’easter, covering it only because of the problems it could cause regarding the search and rescue efforts in Philadelphia. Meteorologists were optimistic. They expected the storm to swing farther north, making land closer to Connecticut before swinging back out to sea. Idiots. The storm had come out of nowhere, the ocean a fury of waves and wind. It wasn’t a fucking nor’easter. It was Poseidon, come to drag the lot of them down into the deep until they churned in the sandy bottom. Hidden inside the waves would be creatures they hadn’t known existed: dark, scaled things with fins and claws, piranha’s teeth and lidless eyes. It was happening. Their time was up.

“We need Apollo,” Athena said without taking her eyes from the screen. “We need all of them here, quickly.”

Hermes stood shakily. Sweat stood out on his forehead. He’d been running a low fever on and off for the last few hours. “I can’t believe she’s really coming. That we’re really going to face her.” But he took a breath and headed for the door. His courage wouldn’t fail. She wouldn’t doubt him.

“Hermes,” Athena said, and he turned back with a jump, as though she’d shouted. “Don’t bother trying to blend in.”

He nodded and left. Odysseus touched Athena’s arm, and when she turned she was surprised by the fear bleached across his face.

“She’s showing us what she can do. Showing us she’s on her way. And she’s not one bit frightened.”

Comforting words rose up in her mouth, but she swallowed them down. They were lies. He would’ve seen right through them, anyway. The images on the screen were screams in Hera’s voice. She had nothing to fear. She could run at them brazenly, without armor or subterfuge. She was stronger. She would win.

“I don’t want to split up.” Athena looked down at the bedspread, mauve splashed through with green and gold. “I don’t think you’d be any safer if we did. But I’ll do everything I can to keep them off you.”

“Who’s going to keep them off you?” His hand slid across the blanket and covered hers. “I didn’t want to say anything. I guess I’ve had a case of, what you call it, denial. But there’s no time for that anymore. Athena—” She felt the mattress shift as he moved closer. “You’re strong. Stronger than Hermes and stronger than Apollo, but—”

“But not stronger than her.” She kept her eyes low. It wounded her pride that he had said it, and that it was true.

“When Apollo bashed your head in, I thought—” He shook his head. “But this is Hera, pissed off beyond reason and desperate. She’s not playing around. That stone fist—”

“Will go through my face and come out the back. I know. But what else am I supposed to do?” She looked up, into his eyes, watching him search for an answer to that question, frantically scrambling through his clever brain for any possible alternatives. It made her smile.

“I can’t let you. I can’t let you go without knowing.”

“Odysseus.” Please don’t. Don’t make it any harder. We were never meant to have this, anyway.

“Athena!”

The door burst open and clattered against the wall before it wobbled and fell onto the carpet. Hermes had taken it clear off of its hinges.

“What? What is it?” Athena asked, rising.

“They’re gone. All of them.”

“Gone? What do you mean ‘gone’?” Odysseus asked, but Athena wasn’t listening.

Apollo, you softhearted idiot, what have you done? Where have you taken them?

In the background, the news from Philadelphia blared from the TV. All of that movement to their south. It felt almost like a wall. Like they were being herded. Again it crossed Athena’s mind that the blasts in Philadelphia had been a diversion. Now she wondered just how many purposes it served.

* * *

“So, do you think they’re freaking out yet?” Henry asked from the backseat.

“Who? Our parents?” Andie shifted against the leather seat next to him.

“Yeah. Do you think they’re looking for us?”

“Why would they look for us when we left a note telling them where we were going? I think they’re on the phone with each other. Plotting our punishment.” She smiled. “It won’t be until after we should’ve been home that they’ll really start to worry.” Her smile faded.

Aidan slid his hand across the seat and took Cassandra’s. She laced her fingers through his, and he pulled her palm up and kissed it. He was grateful for the touch; it was written all over his face. I should tell him that it’s all right. That I forgive him. That the past feels less and less important.

Only it wasn’t true. Not yet. The past felt less important, but it was still there.

“We’re going to have to stop for gas soon.” Aidan glanced at the fuel gauge. “Maybe get something to eat.”

“Gas already?” Andie nudged Henry in the shoulder. “You might think of investing in a car with better fuel economy.”

“When I bought it, I didn’t think it’d have to go on a cross-country chase.” He shoved her back.

After a few disagreements and slight changes in direction, they had decided on southwest, toward Pennsylvania. Aidan had suggested catching a flight somewhere, but no one seemed to know where they should go, and no one was certain that Hera and Poseidon couldn’t just rip the plane out of the air anyway.

Cassandra yawned. Her eyelids felt thick and weighted.

“It’ll be a little while yet,” Aidan said. “You’ve got time for a nap.” She let go of his hand, and her head fell against the headrest.

When she woke, they were stopped and she was alone in the car. Turning, she saw Andie and Henry, leaned up against the door, watching the gas pump as the gallons tried desperately to keep up with the dollars.

Andie reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone.

“It’s my mom.” The first call. “I’m shutting it off. I can’t— I don’t want to listen to her messages. I’d want to call her back too bad.” She stuffed it back into her pocket. After a second, Henry pulled his out and shut it off too. He sighed.

“Are you sure you don’t want to let Aidan choke you out?”

Andie laughed. “What for? You want me to be in love with you?”

“No.” Henry snorted and shuffled his feet. “It just might be nice to feel like we knew what we were doing. Like maybe we’d know how to fight or something. Besides, it can’t be all that weird. Cassandra’s still Cassandra.”

Andie shrugged. “I guess so. But I don’t see what good it’d do. So you’d know how to use a sword. And I might know how to shoot an arrow or something. Big deal. The flipping Mustang’s a more useful weapon. Besides, you’d also remember what it was like to die with a spear in your chest. Doesn’t sound like fun.”

“It might give us a better chance.” The fuel nozzle clicked off, and Henry pulled it out and put the gas cap back on.

“I’m just not doing it. I—” She exhaled. “I’d rather die as me.”

“You’re not going to die, Andie.”

“Look at us, Henry. Look at what we’re doing. None of us knows what’s going to happen. Not even Cassandra, and she’s frickin’ psychic.”

Cassandra opened the car door and stepped out. The day was bright and cold. The parking lot of the travel plaza they’d stopped at was already busy, filled with the sounds of idling engines and the scents of oil and gasoline. She stretched her back and legs and cracked her neck.

“Look who’s up. Want to go in and grab something to eat? Aidan’s in there already, but he never knows what to get you.” Andie gestured behind them, toward the Sunoco convenience store.

“Sure.” Cassandra smiled. “You coming, Henry?”

“I’ll stay with the car. Can you grab me a Chuckwagon sandwich?”

They walked through the aisles of motor oil and cold medicine, toward the cold cases in the back. Andie craned her neck toward the hot chocolate and cappuccino machines. It felt too early for soda, but they stocked up anyway, grabbing bottles of Mountain Dew and Diet Coke. Aidan walked up holding both a Grape and an Orange Crush. Cassandra could never decide which she wanted.

“I’ve got a couple of breakfast burritos in the microwave. We should really eat on the road.”

Cassandra nodded, even though the thought of getting back into the car so soon made her want to scream and kick her feet. She’d better get used to it. They had days and days of car ahead of them. Who knew how far they’d have to run before they felt safe enough to get a motel room? Who knew how far they’d have to go before Aidan felt safe enough to sleep?

There was a short line for the cash register, and it took extra time as the guy in front of them wanted to cash in scratch-off lottery tickets and buy several more of each different type. Cassandra took the opportunity to stretch and flex her legs as much as she could. She wouldn’t even have noticed the footage playing on the TV mounted in the corner had the clerk not taken it off mute and turned up the volume.

At first she thought it was a rebroadcast of the Chicago explosion. The piles of debris and clouds of dust looked so similar. But this structure was more twisted; there was more iron to it, and the destruction hadn’t been as complete. The frame of half of one of the buildings was still visible, charred and jagged. And the “live” tag blinked in the corner of the screen.

“My god,” she heard someone say. The camera panned over fire trucks and ambulances, flashing red and yellow lights everywhere. People were panicked and crying. On the periphery of every camera angle there was blood: someone walking with gauze pressed to their head, paramedics running past with stretchers.

“Where is that?” asked Aidan, and the guy with the lottery tickets said, “Somewhere in Philadelphia.”

Philadelphia. The same way they’d been heading.

Aidan threw two twenties down on the counter and nudged Cassandra and Andie toward the door. “It’s more than enough for what we got,” he said when Andie looked worried. She needn’t have bothered. No one even looked their way when the bell dinged to announce their exit.

Andie jogged ahead with Henry’s Mountain Dew and Chuckwagon.

“It was them, wasn’t it,” Cassandra said.

“I think so.”

“Of course it was. It was just like Chicago.” She clenched her fists, felt heat behind her eyes. “How many people do you think died this time? Were they people who knew, like the witches, or were they just regular people?”

“It doesn’t matter if they knew or not. She killed them.” Aidan’s face was a mix of blank and terror. “She’s insane.”

Cold fear clamped around Cassandra’s heart. If Hera found them, they wouldn’t have a chance.

Walking back to the Mustang, her feet felt like lead. She couldn’t hear anything. The images of smoke and blood took over her senses. She didn’t see the figure shuffling toward her until he was close enough to touch. Close enough to smell.

He stank of urine and something faintly medicinal. He wore the clothes of a vagabond, stained and torn, just a green sweatshirt and gray sweatpants. The sides of his Velcro tennis shoes had burst. He giggled and pointed at her. Stringy brown hair trailed along his hollow cheekbones, and underneath the shock she felt sadness. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-five.

“She’ll have you.” His grin stretched, showing every black-stained tooth in his mouth. “She’ll have you now.”

“What?” Cassandra asked. “Are you all right?”

The man’s eyes widened, stretching impossibly until it seemed that his lids had retracted into his skull. His hazel green eyes trembled and skittered wildly back and forth—until all at once, they were blue.

Aidan grabbed Cassandra and pulled her behind him.

“What?”

“I know those eyes. Even half mad and sick with disease, I would know them anywhere. Aphrodite.”

Cassandra looked toward the car. Andie and Henry stood behind the wide open door, their faces scared and confused. She tried to drag Aidan away, but he wouldn’t budge. He grabbed the man by the collar and dragged him around the side of the Sunoco station. Cassandra hesitated, then followed. She rounded the corner just in time to see the man’s body buckle at Aidan’s feet.

“No,” she breathed. He took her by the arm.

“Walk, don’t run.”

“Where are we going to go now?” Cassandra asked, just before the vision struck.

It sent her to her knees. Pressure squeezed down hard on her arms, hard enough to crack the bones. The world went by in flashes, whipping from right to left. She saw trees, a flash of blue sky. Ice-blue eyes beneath a crown of dark gold hair. Hera laughed as she wrenched her back and forth and lifted her up high. The sky whipped past, like leaning her head back on a playground swing. Panic took hold and her fists connected, digging into Hera’s strange surface, soft and hard, warm flesh dotted through with granite. And then the ground rushed back. She felt her head strike pavement and heard something crack. After that, everything went dark.

“Cassandra.” Aidan shook her gently. They had to move; people had seen her fall from inside the gas station and were starting to come out to help. The clerk was on the phone.

She gripped his arms and let him pull her up. Her head felt heavy. It seemed like she could feel the blood sloshing around inside it.

“We’re okay,” he called to the people coming toward them. “She’s okay. She just slipped.”

“Aidan. I saw.”

“What? What did you see?” He watched in horror as blood began to drip from her nose.

“I saw Hera. I saw her kill me.”

He scooped her up and ran to the Mustang. “No. Everything’s going to be fine. She’s not going to touch you.” He shouted at Andie and Henry to get in the car, and put Cassandra gently into the passenger seat. The tires squealed as he pulled out onto the on-ramp.

“What? What’s happening?” Andie gripped the back of Cassandra’s seat.

“They found us. So easily. They’re stronger than I am. Stronger than Athena is.” Aidan mumbled. He drove too fast; the Mustang surged forward. “I don’t understand it.”

“You’re babbling. Cassandra, he’s babbling.” That seemed to scare Andie worse than anything, but Cassandra couldn’t reply. She was numb. Shocked and outside of herself. When Andie put a tissue to her nose and held it there to catch the bleeding, she barely noticed. She’d seen herself die. She’d felt it.

“I should’ve been faster. Smarter. You won’t die. I swear that you won’t.” He reached over and touched her, twisted his fingers into hers. “I won’t let her touch you. Don’t be scared. Please, believe me.”

I want to. But my visions are never wrong. And now I’ve seen it. So now it will be.

Everyone in the car was silent and bleach white with fear. Aidan watched the passing road signs and gritted his teeth, then took the next exit ramp hard and turned around, back to Kincade.

“Athena … it was a mistake to leave you.”

* * *

They were going to need a car. That was certain. Hermes would have to steal them one. But a car didn’t solve the problem of deciding which direction to drive in. The world had become so busy and vast. Even a god could get lost in it.

“Maybe they headed for the Canadian border,” Odysseus suggested.

“That’s no better than a guess,” said Hermes. “He’s evading Hera, not the Feds.” They were starting to snipe at each other, pacing in their cages. Only Athena stood quietly, leaning up against the wall.

As hard as she tried, she couldn’t zero in on Apollo. He wasn’t even a blip on her radar. Of course, eventually her radar would light up like a circuit board. As soon as Hera and Poseidon found them, their combined presence would be a flashbulb behind her eyes. And then it would be too late. Hera would render Apollo into pieces. She’d kill Andromache and Hector, and take Cassandra, while the bits of Apollo screamed impotently in her wake, dragging themselves along the ground.

And if I face her, she’ll really kill me.

Athena snorted bitterly. How she’d loved to watch her heroes fly into battle to meet the end of a spear or a sword. The glory and valor was breathtaking. She’d never figured on doing it herself.

She looked at Odysseus, his eyes bright and alive, and let her gaze wander over his features, down his shoulders and chest. These were the last few moments of quiet. Soon, they would make a decision and begin moving forward toward their end.

I’ll die protecting him. There are plenty of worse ways to go than that.

Then she heard it, a whisper in her ear. It carried with it the scent of dust and a blast of dry, dry heat.

“You must go, and soon, child. He’s coming back to you and bringing all of them along besides.”

“Demeter.”

Odysseus and Hermes stopped talking. They couldn’t hear Demeter’s voice. To them, the room was empty. Hermes started to ask what Athena meant, but she held up her hand.

Miles of highway passed by behind her vacant eyes. It was a road she knew would lead them straight to Apollo, with Hera still just following after, if they were lucky.

“He’s on the freeway. He’s forsaken stealth for speed. But he won’t stay there. He’s going to turn off and—” Athena stopped, and swallowed. “Thank you, Aunt.”

“We are more monsters than gods now,” Demeter whispered. “But some are worse than others.”

For a second, Athena thought she felt a soft, dry brushing against her shoulder, like leathery fingertips. And then Demeter was gone. Athena’s eyes flashed back to the present.

“I know where they are. He’s on the road, and he’s making a wrong turn.”

* * *

“Not that I doubt a god’s ability to drive,” Henry said from the backseat, “but shouldn’t you look ahead of you, at least once every few miles?”

Aidan cleared his throat and mumbled an apology, then went back to staring into the rearview mirror. Cassandra knew why. He was waiting for the sky to go black behind them, waiting for a ball of fire, or a flash of lightning, or whatever-the-hell entrance Hera would decide to make when she burned up their trail.

Aidan glanced at the fuel gauge and struck the steering wheel with his palm.

“This thing gets shit for gas mileage, Henry.”

“So everyone keeps telling me. Why didn’t you take another car, then? And why don’t you have one of your own? Super rich, undying god guy?”

Andie heaved herself toward the front seat. “Stop bickering!” She put her hand on Cassandra’s shoulder.

“He could’ve bought us twelve Priuses if he was worried about fuel economy, is all I’m saying.”

“Shut up, Henry!” She gestured toward an exit sign. “Just get off the freeway. The back roads are secluded. We can slow down and save gas and still have cover. We can’t stay on the interstate much longer anyway without risking a high-speed police chase.”

Cassandra sat quietly in the passenger seat, holding an open bottle of Orange Crush. Andie had finally gotten her to drink a little of it, though she’d refused anything to eat. She glanced up through the windshield. The sky was so incredibly blue and Aidan was driving so fast. But it wouldn’t matter. Her death waited for her beneath blue skies and pines. On a day just like today.

“Aidan.”

“Yeah?”

“If this doesn’t work, will you promise to protect them?” She touched Andie’s hand, still on her shoulder. “I mean it. Will you get them somewhere safe, even if I’m dead?”

“Don’t talk like that,” Andie snapped. “We’re not going anywhere without you.”

Cassandra ignored her and watched Aidan. He was a god, and gods were single-minded. She’d always thought Andie and Henry were his friends. But maybe they didn’t matter if she wasn’t around. Maybe he’d just leave them, out of grief, or out of indifference.

“Nothing’s going to happen to any of you.” Aidan looked at Cassandra. “They’re my friends too.”

“Promise.”

“I promise.”

You promised me too, once. That you had no more secrets.

The word of a god. Was it worth anything? He’d only known them for a few years, barely a blink in his long life. She would be gone before the sun began to set, and he’d go on forever. She closed her eyes.

“It’s not going to hurt. It’s just going to be scary, and then everything will be dark. Do you think that’s how it is? My head will crack open, and I won’t know anything anymore. I won’t be anymore.”

“It’s not going to happen.” Aidan ground his teeth and signaled for the exit toward Seneca Lake. “We’ll cut through the Finger Lakes back to Kincade. But we’re not staying. I’ll just … tell Athena to be ready, and then we’re going north.”

“What if she tries to stop us?”

“She won’t. Not this time.”

Cassandra slid her fingers against his. “This isn’t your fault. Not really.”

He squeezed her hand and held it to his lips. “Don’t give up. I’ll stand against anything that tries to hurt you. Even my crazy-ass stepmother.”

They drove, fast and silent, along the curving highway that bordered the lake. Aidan kept one hand twined around Cassandra’s. He muttered to himself, curses and plans and possibilities. She watched him check the fuel gauge for the hundredth time since they left the freeway.

“Aidan!” Henry shouted.

Aidan looked up just in time to see the person in the road. He jerked the wheel hard, and the tire caught the edge of the shoulder. For an instant, the Mustang tilted precariously, and the screaming of rubber against asphalt and gravel rose in Cassandra’s ears. But then the car slowed and straightened out. Aidan hit the brakes hard and the jolt of the stop threw Cassandra mostly onto the dashboard. The Mustang sat half on and half off of the road, the front end pointed toward a slender but imposing-looking pine tree.

“What the hell was that about?” Andie asked breathlessly. The person in the road had been an old woman, and she’d walked right out of the trees into the path of the car. “Some old lady, just walking across the road? Where did she come from? Did you see a house?”

The stretch of highway was secluded, bordered on both sides by pines and orange-and-brown autumn trees. Farther out, Cassandra saw the slate gray edge of Seneca Lake peeking through the trunks. She thought back over the way they’d come.

“There was no house. No driveway, not even another car for the last five miles. What was she doing, popping out of the trees?”

“Thank god we didn’t hit her.”

“It would have been better if we had.” Aidan stared into the side mirror, looking back with dread. Cassandra craned her neck to look out the window.

The old woman stood in the middle of the road as though dazed. Her arms hung slack at her sides, and she swayed on her feet, which were planted wide apart. Something was off. Something wrong. The vacant way she stared at the car made Cassandra want to crawl under the seat.

“What’s the matter with her face?” Henry asked. As they watched, the old woman’s cheeks began to sag. The lines became deeper, and the corners pulled down until her mouth was a leering scowl. Then it dripped off, leaving behind a wet, black spot.

“Get it in gear, Aidan,” Andie said shrilly as more of the old woman’s face detached and hit the pavement. All of her skin liquefied; her hair slid down her head to reveal the skull beneath: obsidian black and covered in slime and scales.

“What is that thing?” Henry asked, but Aidan didn’t answer. He threw the car into reverse.

“Buckle up.”

* * *

We have to go faster. Much, much faster.

Athena sat in the passenger seat; her knee bounced and twitched nervously. Odysseus was driving as fast as he could, but it was nowhere near fast enough. They were headed south, toward the Finger Lakes, on Route 89. Seneca Lake was close enough to smell, but they were still at least twenty minutes from finding Apollo and Cassandra. She glanced toward Hermes with annoyance. She refused to believe that there hadn’t been anything faster in the car lot than a ’91 Dodge Spirit. She looked back to Odysseus. He was scared. Much of that fear was concern for her. Was he really driving as fast as he could?

She pushed her neck back slightly and checked the gauges. Eighty miles an hour. Any faster and the engine in the piece of crap would fall out onto the highway.

Apollo, you fool. What would make you run anywhere near these deep, dead lakes when you know that Poseidon is on your tail?

* * *

The tires squealed; the smell of burnt rubber bloomed instantly in the air. The Mustang growled into reverse, aiming straight for the old woman.

Cassandra would have winced, even if she had been the most evil old woman on the face of the planet. Even if she had been granny-Hitler, she would have winced at the idea of running her down. But the thing standing in the road looked nothing like an old woman anymore. It was hulking and webbed, with teeth like an anglerfish from the depths of the ocean. The last of the old woman sat in a puddle around its feet.

The Mustang hit it with a heavy thud, and Cassandra bounced as the body passed beneath first the back and then the front set of tires. Aidan braked hard, and the car slid to a stop.

“What the hell is that thing?” Henry asked again.

“It’s a Nereid,” Aidan growled. “It’s disgusting and warped, but that’s what it is. They serve Poseidon.”

“Poseidon?”

“Poseidon.” Aidan ground the gears in the Mustang. “You know, god of the sea, brother of Zeus. My uncle, and a real prick.” He dropped the car into first and revved the engine.

As they spoke, two more Nereids emerged from between the trees and sprang onto the highway. Above the burning rubber, the scent of wet rot and fish permeated the air.

“Hang on.” Aidan popped the clutch and the car squealed forward, aiming straight for them. Cassandra squinted her eyes and turned her face away from the impact. Their huge, muscular bodies were likely to come right through the windshield. Her mind flashed on the image of one of them covered in shattered glass and bleeding on her lap, the rotten, fishy reek smeared across her clothes.

It seemed that neither Nereid was going to move. But at the last second, one of them dodged around the car, slamming its fists into the passenger side, crushing Cassandra’s door and cracking the window. The other Nereid went the same way as the first, under one set of tires and then the other.

“Are you all right?” Aidan asked, and she nodded, her eyes wide. He turned toward her, his eyes moving across her arms, making sure she hadn’t been hurt. He didn’t see the goddess step in front of them until everyone else in the car screamed.

Aidan hit the brakes instinctively as Aphrodite raised her arms. When they slammed down onto the hood, it was like being struck by pillars of marble. The Mustang’s engine was driven six inches into the asphalt, and the rear end of the frame jerked upward, lifting off the ground two feet before bouncing back down again.

Aphrodite stood amidst the steam rising from the wrecked hood, a broad smile stretched across her flawless face. Her eyes locked with Aidan’s, hot with madness. She leaned against the boiling black paint, laughing a maniac’s laughter as golden hair lifted in waves around her shoulders. The whimsical, gauzy dress she wore was beautiful and ruined, shades of differing blue and green, stained and torn in a hundred places. Cassandra remembered her from the vision, the shadows and water reflections swirling over her features. She was worse in the daylight, with no shadows to hide under.

“Get out of that car, baby brother. Get out of that car and come home with Mother.”

“Cassandra,” said Aidan softly. His hand went to the door handle. “When I take her on, you have to run, do you understand?”

Cassandra looked at the mad thing in front of the Mustang, and the bent steel of the hood. In the mirror, wrecked black bodies of Nereids littered the road, but there would be others. Aidan would be outnumbered. They’d run over the top of him and come for her anyway.

“No. We stick together. I’m not leaving you.”

He grasped her hand and kissed it. “You’re the one they’re after. Remember your vision.” He let her go and opened the car door.

Cassandra watched as Aphrodite backed off to give Aidan space. He kept his body between her and the Mustang, and she seemed happy to let him do it. She circled and crouched and made mock charges, laughing when he jerked to block her way.

“It doesn’t make me happy to see you this way, sister.”

Aphrodite clucked her tongue. “Apollo, Apollo, still so pretty. Give up the girl and come home. Mother will not be angry.”

“Hera isn’t your mother.”

Cassandra tensed, watching the exchange. In the corner of her eye something dark moved, just a shadow in the trees. Another Nereid. If she and the others ran now, they’d be caught, whether Aidan had a hold on Aphrodite or not. She could feel them, and smell them, moving in closer, tightening around them like a knot.

“You shouldn’t have run,” Aphrodite scolded. “You shouldn’t have shielded her. You made us chase, made me sad, made Mother tear witches in half.” She looked at him petulantly, her full lips pouting. Then she smiled and half turned away, before hooking her fingers into claws and aiming for his eyes.

“Aidan!” Cassandra shouted, and opened her door. Before she could get out, Henry lunged from the backseat and pulled her back in, just as the Nereids attacked the car. Three of them beat into the side panels and rocked the frame back and forth. One smashed in the rear window and reached for Henry; Andie punched it in the face over and over, oblivious to the cuts left on her knuckles by fins and scales.

Aidan twisted out of Aphrodite’s grip and tried to help, grabbing the nearest Nereid and shoving his fingers deep into the creature’s eye sockets, then ripping back hard enough to dislodge the skull. Aphrodite shrieked and clawed at his back, drawing deep furrows of blood, but Aidan kept moving, using the head of the first Nereid to bludgeon the one who attacked the back of the car.

Henry scrambled to the front seat and covered Cassandra with his body, protecting her from glass and clawed fingers.

“Henry, door prize!” Andie shouted, and Henry savagely kicked his door into a Nereid on the passenger side. The impact sent it rolling back toward the ditch. He looked at Cassandra, shocked only for a moment before his eyes darkened.

“Stay here. Both of you.” He got out and slammed the car door, going after the Nereid he’d struck.

“Not a chance.” The door opened again and Andie followed. She scooped up a thick branch as she went.

Cassandra sat frozen in the car. It felt suddenly quiet and alone. The Nereids had gone off after Andie and Henry; she saw Henry duck a black, scaled arm and punch the creature in the face. In front of the Mustang, Aidan struggled with Aphrodite on his back. Cassandra looked around the interior, at seats covered with spilled soda and snack wrappers. Nothing she could use for a weapon.

What am I supposed to do? How do I help them?

Aphrodite’s hands searched for Aidan’s neck.

“I’ll snap your spine and tear your head off,” she shrieked. “Then I’ll keep it as a pet.”

“So you can bitch at me at your leisure? I don’t think so.” He reached back to flip her over the front of him, but she was hooked in. Her teeth sank into the meaty part of his shoulder, and he screamed.

“Aidan!” Cassandra’s hand went to the car door and she stepped out, ready to do she didn’t know what. “Get off him!”

Out of nowhere, Hermes blew in like a breeze and collided with Aphrodite. The hit knocked her off of Aidan’s back and dumped her rolling onto the side of the road.

“You make a fairly nasty turtle shell, bitch.” Hermes’ sides rose and fell rapidly, but his eyes were bright.

“Where did you come from?” Aidan asked.

“About ten miles back, Athena opened my door and told me to hit the ground running.” He gave Aidan a small smile. “You shouldn’t be so hard on big sister. She always comes through in the end.”

At the edge of the ditch, Aphrodite got to her feet, crying at the fresh dirt streaks on her already stained dress.

“Bastards,” she hissed, and Hermes and Aidan made ready to fight, but she turned and fled through the trees, down to the water. The Nereids too had pulled back. Andie and Henry backed up toward the car.

“What are they doing?” Andie went to Cassandra and held her shoulder. Henry came too, his forearm bleeding from cuts made by sharp gills and razor teeth.

“Cassie, get back in the car.”

“Don’t bother.” Hermes watched the Nereids. They stood on the edge of the highway, their posture attentive, like they were listening for something. They had all turned to face the lake.

Something’s coming.

The dark water rippled along the shore. Cassandra could almost feel it against her arms, the depth and the cold. It raised goose bumps across her shoulders. She thought she saw something skimming along under the surface, some ragged, shadowy shape, hulking and enormous, the Loch Ness Monster in the flesh.

When Poseidon reared his head out of the water, his jaw jerking open to reveal shark’s rows of jagged teeth, Cassandra gasped. Next to her, Aidan stared at the monster his uncle had become.

“Big sister better not be far behind.”

* * *

The road twisted north and curved; Odysseus had to slow down, sometimes to as low as fifty miles an hour. Athena struck the dashboard, eyes bright with fear and frustration.

“I’m sorry,” Odysseus said. “It won’t help anyone if we flip the car.” He glanced at her, a question in his eyes. She shook her head.

“Don’t ask me to turn back. And don’t try it. I’ll just throttle you and drag you bleeding back into the fray.”

He smiled. “I know. Is Hera there yet? Can you sense her?”

Athena shook her head. She’d sensed Aphrodite and Poseidon clearly enough. Their arrival, so malevolent and sudden, had practically blown a circuit out the back of her head. But Hera had not yet made the scene. It was the only thing that gave her hope.

“They won’t last long,” Athena said.

“Don’t sell them short. Apollo got the drop on you for a minute, when he bashed your head in. He can do the same to Poseidon.”

Athena looked at him doubtfully.

“Just drive faster.”

* * *

A Nereid sprang out of nowhere and dove for Cassandra. They’d all been so busy staring at Poseidon that they hadn’t noticed it coming close. It knocked Andie and Henry aside like toys. Cassandra tried to dodge, but it grabbed her by the wrist.

“Aidan!”

It was so strong. No matter how she dug her feet in or clawed at its grip, the ground only seemed to go by faster. Her ankles caught on the dirt and rolled painfully.

Fall. Let me fall. Slow down.

But it didn’t. It held her up and kept on, speeding her mindlessly toward the lake, while Aidan screamed her name. She glanced back. Nereids had swarmed the Mustang like black beetles. Hermes had his hands full with three, and two dragged Aidan down toward the ground. Andie and Henry fought back-to-back, but there were too many. Cassandra shouted as she saw one rake its claws across Andie’s stomach.

Ahead of her, Poseidon yawned like a nightmare, barnacle shells eating away the surface of his arms, blood like black oil draining from cuts made by coral that twisted up his body and sliced tunnels into his face. She remembered his teeth in the witch’s leg, and her own legs turned to rubber.

“Cassandra, I’m coming!”

She looked back; Aidan had gotten free and dashed down through the trees. Black Nereid bodies littered the ground around the car. Hermes tore another head loose and dashed down after him, so fast. But in the next instant, cold struck her belly and closed over her head as the Nereid dragged her into the water.

She held her breath as they went under, all her limbs twisting toward panic. Panic at the teeth with her in the lake; panic that her lungs already burned from lack of air. She kicked against the Nereid’s side and it let her break the surface.

“Aidan!”

Her teeth chattered in the frigid water. The shock of it made all her muscles seize. If the Nereid let her go, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to swim to shore. Through weak splashes of protest, she could still see Poseidon, standing suspended, his torso covered in seaweed and slime, a god purified and corrupted all at once. His death transformed him, made him elemental, enormous. More a Titan’s offspring than he had ever been.

He’ll kill him. If Aidan faces him, Poseidon will drag him down like a shark.

She turned toward the shore.

“No! Go back!”

But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t even hesitate.

Hermes stood at the edge of the lake watching her. He caught Aidan by the arm.

“Wait, brother.”

“There’s no time!” He tried to jerk loose, but Hermes held him fast.

“He’ll kill you and take her anyway.”

Aidan looked at Cassandra. She could barely see for blinking back water. Hold him there. Make him wait.

Aidan turned to Hermes.

“Not if you help me.” He twisted out of his brother’s grip and ran into the water, diving in fast.

Hermes shook his head. “Shouldn’t we say something heroic first?” he shouted, but he plunged in, plunged in afraid, and swam after them both, toward a god diseased by shells and the claws of crustaceans.

Fresh adrenaline reached Cassandra’s blood and she struggled, kicking and splashing. Her fingernails dug into the Nereid’s scaled hand. She twisted them and drew blood, but it didn’t matter. Poseidon watched them come, his one remaining eye coated with film. Except for the hungry gape of his jaw, he almost looked disinterested.

The Nereid let go and darted away, and for an instant Cassandra felt mad hope. But it had left her for him. Left her and swam away fast to keep from falling to the god’s teeth. She felt a massive hand grip her leg and drag her down. Cold drenched her to the bone. It flooded into her ears, blotted the world out in heavy, murky darkness.

I don’t want to drown. I can’t, I don’t. I die on a road, my head cracked into pieces.

She opened her eyes as something passed by: Hermes. He drove his fist into Poseidon’s cracked flesh, but it was resilient as the rubber of a tire. It didn’t matter how he wrenched and fought. Poseidon didn’t release his grip. Through the silt-churned water Cassandra saw another massive hand cut through and close on Hermes’ arm.

It’ll snap. There’ll be a snap, and his arm will break, the muscle will tear away and turn the water red.

But no. It would take more than a Titan’s fingers to break Hermes’ bones. All around them, black bodies of Nereids slid past like curious sharks, but none of them struck. She didn’t know why. Perhaps they’d been ordered not to. Or perhaps they were afraid of Poseidon too.

Her lungs tightened. Hermes twisted toward the arm that held her and bit down on tendon; the grip loosened just enough for him to push her toward the surface.

“Get to the shore!” he screamed, but she had just enough time for a breath before Poseidon dragged her back down.

Her head spun, growing dizzy from lack of oxygen and fear. She finally caught sight of Aidan through the bubbles and moving currents. He’d gotten around Poseidon’s back and hit him repeatedly. The reverberations of his fists passed through the water again and again, but weren’t doing much.

We have to get out of the lake; we have to get to shore.

The pressure of the water against Cassandra’s skin and the sensation of being swallowed by the lake was too much. Poseidon would drown her and drag her corpse to the ocean with Aidan swimming behind.

Cold fear and despair took over, and she tore again at Poseidon’s hand. Her fingers found a piece of coral embedded near his palm and latched on, jerking at it, trying to tear it free. Hermes saw her and joined in, his hands brushing hers aside. It pulled loose like a long root from the ground and left a deep, twisting gash up Poseidon’s wrist, all the way into his elbow. Blood like black ink drifted around them in a cloud, but it worked. Poseidon let go, and Hermes shoved Cassandra toward the surface.

She coughed and sputtered. Hermes yelled for Aidan, who was there in an instant.

“Get her to the shore.” He looked at his golden brother. “And then come back. Don’t leave me here.” He dove back under, and Aidan put his arm around Cassandra’s waist and swam while she sucked in air. She tried to help when her heels hit soft sand, but her legs were weak and rubbery. He set her on the bank, away from the water’s edge, and smoothed back her hair.

“Are you all right?” He inspected her arms and legs for cuts; there weren’t any.

“I’m fine.” Her lip trembled. She didn’t want to cry, but it was there, in her throat. Terror and despair, big enough to make it hard to swallow.

“Go back to Andie and Henry. Wait for Athena. Don’t worry. You’ve shown us how. Now we’ll take him apart.” He was back in the water before she could tell him not to go.

He wouldn’t have listened if I had. His brother is there. Fighting for us.

She struggled to her knees and to her feet, backed away from the water another few yards. The lake churned around Poseidon, churned and splashed like the site of a feeding frenzy. Mad as it was, she wanted to be back in the water, back under the dark. On the shore, she couldn’t see what was happening, whether they were all right.

A form broke the surface and someone screamed: Hermes. Poseidon had sunk his teeth into Hermes’ ankle. His massive head twisted and Hermes twisted with it, but even as he did, he reached out for a pearlescent shell embedded in the other god’s chest and ripped it loose.

Poseidon let go and roared, but Hermes didn’t swim away. He stayed in close and went to work, fingers like whirlwinds, tearing out shells and pieces of sea trash, carapaces of crabs and lobsters half submerged. Even strands of thick-bladed sea grass with roots twisted into Poseidon’s veins. Discarded pieces of the sea god floated around them before they slowly sank.

Poseidon continued to rage; he plunged his hand beneath the surface and dragged Aidan up by the arm. His head twisted to bite and Cassandra screamed as he wrenched his head back and forth, ripping at Aidan like a crocodile, his lidless eyes expressionless. Red bloomed in the water and Cassandra saw a Nereid flit closer, smelling the blood. They had to get out of the lake. The Nereids would rush in to help sooner or later, whether they were ordered to or not.

“I’m not going to die underwater, you prick!” Hermes reached for the coral in Poseidon’s empty eye socket and twisted savagely. It broke with a sickening crack and Poseidon howled, pain driving him out of the water to the waist.

“It’s working!” Aidan shouted. “Keep going!”

Skin and muscle hung in loose shards across Poseidon’s chest and shoulders. They were dismantling him. Piece by piece. But it wasn’t fast. Poseidon drew his arm back and struck Hermes, sending him splashing back. He turned on Aidan, a horror with razor teeth and an eye socket leaking black down a cheek webbed with seaweed.

No. Don’t touch him. Don’t hurt him.

Far up the hill, she heard Andie and Henry shout as Poseidon lunged. Her heart hesitated in her chest as the teeth descended and took Aidan underwater.

“Aidan!” She scanned the ripples, the splashes. Long seconds ticked by with her stomach in her throat. “Hermes! Where are you?”

“I’m here.”

He limped out of the water, dragging his mangled foot in the sand.

“No. What are you doing here? You can’t leave him!”

Hermes looked back toward the lake. His eyes were distant and exhausted. “I didn’t. He won.”

“What?”

“Poseidon’s dead.” He thumped his chest. “I know it. It’s leached into my bones, passed into my blood like an electric shock. The sea no longer has a master.”

“But where’s Aidan?” Cassandra stared out at the calming surface, but Hermes paid no attention.

“There were pieces of him everywhere. As I was coming out, I think I saw a Nereid glide by and eat a chunk.” He chuckled sadly. “Poetic justice.”

Cassandra gave a small cry as Aidan’s head popped out of the water, bleeding from the nose and mouth. He swam slowly, awkwardly, and as he came into the shallows she saw why: Poseidon’s bloated, ragged head hung from his right hand. The god of the sea was dead.

“Guess that answers that question,” Hermes muttered, and turned up the hill toward the sound of screeching tires. A champagne-tan Dodge Spirit pulled up in front of the Mustang. The door opened and Athena rose out. She stared down at them in amazement. Odysseus got out of the driver’s side and his mouth spread in a wide grin.

Cassandra closed her eyes. Time had stood still since Aidan went back into the lake. But he was all right. He was there, drenched, holding an enormous severed head. Black blood drained from the ragged neck hole, staining his jeans and shoes. The Nereids were gone, slipped away toward the ocean once Poseidon was dead, or perhaps carrying his body along with them.

“Aidan.” She went to him as fast as she could on shaky legs. “Are you okay?”

“Well, he bit me.” His shirt was red from shoulder to elbow, and the water that dripped from his fingers was tinged pink. But he would heal. He looked at Poseidon’s head, which lost its color as it drained. The one remaining eye stared back at them. “Zeus’ brother. Earth-shaker. Dead at my hands.”

“He hasn’t really been Poseidon in a long time.” Hermes swallowed as Aidan moved to lean on Cassandra and kiss her head.

“Want to carry it?” Aidan asked and held out the head. “My shoulder—”

“You carry it.” Hermes recoiled. “You’re the one with two working legs.”

Aidan smiled. He tossed the head down into the sand. Cassandra kissed his cheek, shivering. He held her closer. “You need a blanket.”

“You need a doctor.”

“No. We have to go.” He looked up the hill, where Athena waited, smiling down at them and shaking her head. “We’ll take that POS until we find something better. Big sister can cover our tail.” He took a breath. “We might make it. Athena’s here and Poseidon’s dead. We will make it, Cassandra.”

She looked into his eyes. “I was so scared, when I couldn’t see you.”

He smiled. “I’m sorry.”

“Then why are you smiling?”

“Because of what it means. Because of the chance.”

Hermes huffed. “Make kissy faces later. Let’s just hobble up this damned hill.” He jump-limped ahead, bitching under his breath.

Cassandra hid her grin. “He’s a good brother.”

“So’s yours.” Aidan nodded toward the destroyed Mustang, where Henry and Andie waited, side by side. “Killed a few Nereids and never once yelled at me about the car. You’re shivering.” He pulled her closer. The warmth of his arms and the nearness of him made her heart jump. He’d saved her life, and they might make it. They might make it and get past everything.

“The lake was cold. Could you do that sun-god thing you do?” He smiled, and heat radiated into her, soaking into her skin, drying her clothes and hair.

“Apollo!” Athena screamed. Cassandra looked up toward her, confused. The confusion lasted only an instant before Aphrodite raced out from between the trees and plunged a cracked branch through Aidan’s chest.

ARISTEIA

Aphrodite wrenched the improvised spear out of his chest, her sneer like a spoiled child. Aidan dropped to his knees.

“No!” Athena raced down the slope, not caring as Aphrodite turned tail and ran, only pausing to scoop up Poseidon’s severed head before fleeing up through the trees toward the road, her stained dress mocking them like a flag, blue and green.

“Get him to the car. Hermes, help me.” She grabbed Aidan under his arms and dragged him back up the hill. Cassandra scrambled along with them, crying and pressing her hands down on the wound. Leaves crunched and rustled beneath them in a thick, shifting carpet. Hermes tried to take hold of Aidan’s legs, but his ankle was ruined, and he kept slipping against the soggy ground. There was so much blood. Aidan coughed and Athena saw it on his teeth.

He’s all right. He’s a god, he’s fine. It won’t kill him. He’s fine.

They got him up to the road and leaned him against the side of the Dodge.

“I need water and a towel, something to stop the bleeding,” Athena barked. Odysseus nudged Henry and they ran to get what they could from the Mustang. “It’s okay, brother. It hurts, but you’ll recover.”

“He’ll recover,” Cassandra repeated, and Athena nodded. The way Cassandra stared at her, eyes coated over with tears, jaw clenched down tight to keep from screaming, what else could she say? She needed to believe her. They both did.

“Cassandra.” Aidan held out his hand and Cassandra took it, wincing at the blood. She wiped tears quickly from her cheeks.

“I’m not crying. Your sister’s right; you’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry I scared you. I’m sorry for lots of things.”

“Don’t try to talk.” His hair clung to his forehead, still wet. She pushed it back and rubbed blood off his chin with her thumb. “Athena’s going to stop the bleeding. It’ll be okay.” She looked at Athena. “Aren’t you? You’re going to stop it?”

Athena glanced at the wound, at all the red pulsing out of it. Cassandra’s eyes were desperate, but she kept her voice even and measured, like she didn’t want Aidan to be afraid.

“Here.” Odysseus handed Athena a rolled-up shirt and a bottle of water.

She knelt and gently moved Aidan and Cassandra’s hands away from the wound. The bleeding was bad, spurting slowly through their fingers. It should have slowed. It should be slowing.

“We’ll have to wash this out when we get back to Kincade.” She pressed the shirt against his chest as hard as she could. “And you’ll need to be stitched up. Don’t worry. Odysseus is pretty good at it.”

Aidan barked a short laugh and grimaced. “We can’t go back there. They’ll find Cassandra.”

“Don’t argue with me right now.” Blood soaked through to her fingers. His eyes were glassy. Cassandra held his hand to her chest.

“Don’t argue. And don’t worry about me.” She looked at the blood and again at Athena. “Why isn’t it stopping?”

Athena shook her head helplessly and pressed down harder. She didn’t know what to do. “Take a sip of water,” she said. Aidan tried, but coughed most of it back up.

“I was just yanked under a lake. I’ve had plenty of water today.” Sweat stood out on his forehead in fine dots. His skin is cold. He’s never cold. He’s god of the sun.

“But this isn’t enough,” Hermes whispered. “It shouldn’t be bad enough to—it shouldn’t be able to. I don’t understand.”

“Somebody do something,” Cassandra began to shake. She looked at Athena. “Do something!”

Athena held Aidan’s shoulder.

We all go in our own way. This is Apollo’s way. He’s dying a mortal’s death. Aphrodite killed him and she probably didn’t even know what she was doing.

“It’s not her fault, Cassandra.” Aidan put his hand over Athena’s, over the wound in his chest. “You can’t let anything happen to her, sister. Promise me.”

You’re her protector, not me. Stay. Stay, brother. Don’t go somewhere I can’t find you.

“I promise.” The blood beneath her fingers slowed to a crawl. There simply wasn’t any left to bleed. He looked at Cassandra with such love and such regret, it almost stopped Athena’s heart.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me.” Cassandra kissed his hand. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re immortal. I’ve got my whole life to—”

Athena’s shoulders slumped. She’d felt it pass through her as Cassandra spoke. He was gone. Her fingers clenched into his shirt, tight enough to wring it out.

“No,” Cassandra moaned. Andie took her by the shoulders, but Cassandra looked like she was choking. Like her screams would explode inside her chest.

He can’t be gone. All this life, leaked out onto the pavement.

He was a god. There had to be some way to put it back. Athena wanted to scream, to cry, to crack the earth. Odysseus slid his hand onto the back of her neck. Behind Andie, Henry stared, looking like he was about to be sick.

“Why did this happen, sister?” Hermes asked. But she didn’t know. There were no answers, and the leathery flap of Demeter didn’t come to whisper wisdom into her ear. Apollo was dead. Poseidon was dead. It all felt pointless.

“Poor, idiotic Apollo.” Hera’s voice rolled across the asphalt, deep and mocking. She had come up from behind them, as Athena had known she would. The weight of her strides made the earth tremble.

Hermes stood quickly, his posture like a prey animal. Athena twisted and watched Hera approach. She stopped thirty yards away, arms crossed over her chest.

“I’m not going to say that it didn’t have to end like this,” she said.

Athena stood and gestured toward her fallen brother.

“Like this? Are you mad? He’s dead. You’ll save yourself by killing your family?”

Hera looked at him, and for a moment it seemed that sadness flickered across her hardening face.

“He was a stepson, only. Another bastard put upon me by my husband. Yet I would’ve welcomed him, had he not forgotten what you’ve forgotten. That he was a god. That gods are not meant to die.”

Aphrodite scurried to her, Poseidon’s decapitated head clutched to her breast.

“They killed him! They killed him!”

“And she killed Aidan!” Athena shouted, and Aphrodite edged toward Hera’s protecting arms.

Hera cocked her head.

“Who?” Then she studied Aidan’s jeans, his hooded sweatshirt. She shook her head, disgusted, and stroked Aphrodite’s hair. “I know, pet. I felt the sea god’s light go out. I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I would’ve ground them to paste before they ever touched him.”

Athena took quick stock. What did they have? A slow Dodge and a fleet-footed god with a broken ankle. Their getaway would be sad and short.

“Why are you doing this?”

Hera snorted. “Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Do you really think you can kill us all? All of us and these mortals besides?”

“I know I can.”

Hera whispered to Aphrodite and she slipped quietly to the side of the road, Poseidon’s blood mingling with the dirt streaks on her green and blue dress as she hugged it. “I lived with mortals too, you know. I loved them. Raised them.” She shrugged. “I even married a few. But I never forgot what I really was. The choice between them and us isn’t a choice. It’s just us.”

“Us. But not Hermes and me.”

Hera cocked her head. “Perhaps Hermes. But not you.”

Athena turned an ear back to Hermes, half wondering if the next sound she heard would be his feet, dragging and hopping to the other side of the battle line. Instead she felt the press of his shoulder against her.

“And why not Athena?” Hermes asked. “What’s she done? She’s not a bastard, not a betrayal of you by your husband. He made her out of himself. No paramour required.”

Athena watched Hera’s jaw set bitterly.

That’s why. All this time. All these years. That’s why she’s never been a mother to me, when she was the only mother I knew. I was evidence that she wasn’t necessary.

“Athena.” Cassandra spoke quietly from where she knelt, holding Aidan’s cold hand. Athena turned toward her. “This is what I saw. Why Aidan turned us back. The blue sky and evergreens. The silver-black of asphalt on the highway. Hera’s face, vicious and full of glory, even as chunks of granite form on her arms and shoulders. I remember the exact sensation of striking her skin.” She looked at Aidan’s empty face. “I remember the light going out.” She stroked his pale cheek, then turned to Athena with steel in her eyes. “This is it. This is the end.”

“The end?” Athena looked down at her. “But it can’t be.”

“I don’t have all day, stepdaughter,” Hera called. Her kitten heels tapped against the road. “Come closer so I can kill you and your half brother.”

Athena couldn’t form a thought. As she looked at Aidan’s body, Hera’s words landed sour, like a wrong strike against a tuning fork. They made her spine twitch and sent sharp bursts of rage ringing across her surface.

“Apollo lost his life to save a mortal girl. So now I will too.”

“No,” Cassandra said, and grasped her wrist. “You can’t stop it.”

“It’s not a choice. He wanted you safe. And we need you safe, so—”

“No.” She clenched her fist around Athena’s arm. Athena’s mouth dropped open. Where the girl touched her, it burned. Like the tingling on her face, after she’d slapped her. She looked up, her chest full suddenly with absurd hope and the words of Demeter urgent in her ears. She could be the key to everything.…

Cassandra trembled, then grew still.

“I feel it too, whatever it is. And I’ve seen this. I’ve seen this day and this fight. I’m in it with you.”

Athena looked at her, deep into her brown eyes. What is this thing? Like looking at a frozen surface through a pane of glass. She didn’t know what it was exactly. But she knew it was power.

She grasped Cassandra’s hand. “How does it end?”

Cassandra shook her head.

Athena nodded. “Okay.”

They took a deep breath. Conviction laced the air between them, white hot.

“I don’t know how much strength is left in me,” said Athena.

“Enough,” Cassandra said softly. She looked one last time at Aidan’s face.

Together, they rose to their feet and looked down the road. Hera stood with Aphrodite hiding behind. The stone fist hung heavily at her side. More patches of stone were visible too, spattering her neck and cheeks with flecks of gray granite. She wore a finely woven black coat and dark blue jeans. She looked cold, almost indifferent. Someone who didn’t know her would never guess at her violent temperament. She kept it carefully hidden. Swallowing so much vindictiveness and rage must have been like swallowing shards of metal.

“I don’t know how much use you’ll be with a crushed foot,” Athena said to Hermes. “But keep the others safe, if you can.” She glanced over her shoulder at Odysseus. When she turned away, he caught her by the arm and pulled her back.

“Athena.” They looked at each other for a long second. Fear shone plain in his eyes, and for a moment she thought he might actually say it, that he might actually grab her and kiss her and throw her completely off her game. Instead he smiled his cockeyed smile and pushed the tire iron from the Dodge into her hand.

“Don’t get hit,” he said quietly. She wrapped her fingers around the weapon.

Good advice.

“Give up the girl,” Hera commanded.

“And you’ll let us live?” Athena asked sarcastically.

Hera smirked. “Of course not.”

Athena looked over at Cassandra, who stared straight ahead. She didn’t know what she was doing, leading a mortal against the Titans’ queen. It felt crazy. It felt against everything she’d ever known about war and battle and strategy. It felt completely right.

When she walked, the girl walked with her. The tire iron settled into her palm. As they came

Date: 2015-12-18; view: 556