Page 13 of Mortal Gods


  “They’re going to let him go,” Andie said. “He’s a horrible patient. They were half-ready to kick him out yesterday. He keeps asking about Lux and trying to pull out his IV.” She stuffed a handful of M&M’s into her mouth. “I hate hospitals. They smell weird. And I feel like I should trust everyone who works here, but why should I?”

  “I wish this hadn’t happened,” Cassandra said suddenly. “We shouldn’t have left you here. I should’ve thought.”

  “It would have been hard to get us all out of school,” Andie said. “Besides, we held our own, Cassandra. You should’ve seen us out there. We would have gone down fighting.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

  “Maybe not, but that’s how it is.”

  They turned the corner toward Henry’s room. Athena stood in the hall, talking to their mother. Both wore broad smiles. Cassandra’s mother put a hand to her chest and shook her head sympathetically, and Athena nodded. Cassandra lip-read Athena say, “Thank you.”

  Athena. Since the day they’d met her, both of her parents swallowed everything she said and asked for seconds. So easy. But it wasn’t real charm. It was a goddess’s trick. A stretched mask of humanity to help them smooth their lies.

  As they approached, Athena disengaged herself. She touched Cassandra’s shoulder as she passed. To her watching mother, it must’ve looked like a sympathetic, familiar gesture. The fond gesture of a friend. But Athena hadn’t even looked at Cassandra when she did it. The text message arrived a few moments later.

  HENRYS GETTING OUT TODAY. I WANT ALL OF YOU AT THE HOUSE TOMORROW MORNING. EARLY.

  Cassandra hit delete. Hard.

  Gods. Goddamn gods.

  * * *

  The girl sitting across the table from Cassandra was beautiful, just like Andie and Henry said. Braided, brown hair was gathered with ribbons down her back. And she had the most incredible eyes, like the beach glass they’d found on a family vacation in Florida. She seemed at ease, too, even as the others sat and stood, leaned against counters and walls like refugees with arms in slings and bandaged knees. Black bruises ringed around necks. Calypso, the girl’s name was. Cally. Odysseus’ girlfriend, shown up out of nowhere to change everything they knew about him.

  Poor Athena. Whether Cassandra liked her or not, to have someone blow in and claim the boy she loved had to be hard. Especially when the girl looked like Calypso. Say what you would about Aidan, but at least he never had secret girlfriends popping out of the woodwork. If he had, Cassandra would have turned them to leather.

  Hermes whispered something to Athena so quiet that only gods could hear. It was irritating. They’d gathered at the butt crack of dawn at Athena’s whim, and for what? To watch her sigh and look out the window? Hermes glanced their way and shrugged, thinner and thinner in a red t-shirt emblazoned with a snowboarding logo. His methane-torch eyes shone large and worried in his face.

  “Someone has to start,” Odysseus said. “Hera’s back. What are we supposed to do about it? Find out how weak she still is? Bait Ares and follow him until we find where they hide?”

  “What does it matter about Hera?” asked Andie. “Ares is the one sending wolves after us and stabbing Athena in the jungle.”

  “But he’s taking orders from her.”

  “So what? Immediate threats first. Let’s kill the wolves. They said Henry has to die.”

  “They must’ve made a mistake,” Odysseus said. “Thought he was me or something.”

  Athena dragged her hand across the countertop.

  “None of this matters now,” she said. Her voice cut through all the others. “We need to find Achilles. That’s what Ares was after in the jungle. That’s what he wanted to choke out of your throat. We handle him”—she looked at Cassandra—“and then we focus on Ares, Hera, and Aphrodite.”

  “Look, we can’t ignore the wolves,” Andie said. “Especially if you’re going off again after Achilles.”

  Achilles. The name sliced through Cassandra’s ears like a knife. For once she didn’t mind Athena pushing the hunt for Aphrodite aside. Achilles was the greatest warrior Greece had ever seen. He’d been the terror of her people. He’d murdered dozens of them. Hundreds. But none with more hatred than Hector.

  “We’re not going off after Achilles,” said Odysseus. He looked at Athena gravely. “Not when all she wants is to find him and kill him.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Andie asked. “Eliminate the weapon. Makes sense to me. If we can’t use him, neither can they.” Across the kitchen, Athena stifled a smile. “Let’s vote on it.”

  “We’re not going to vote on it,” Odysseus said. “It wouldn’t be fair. Hermes votes with his sister.” Hermes shrugged. It was true enough. “And we know which way she’d vote.”

  “So the gods won’t vote.” Andie looked around the table at Cassandra, Henry, Calypso, and Odysseus. “Who votes for letting Achilles stay hidden?”

  Odysseus raised his hand. Calypso raised hers.

  “And who votes for killing him?” Andie asked, and raised her hand. Cassandra raised hers as well. Both looked at Henry, who drew his brows together and clenched his jaw.

  “Who votes for killing him?” Andie asked again. “Who votes for killing Achilles, the monster who jammed a spear through Henry and dragged him around Troy behind his chariot.” She narrowed her eyes. “And fed him to his dogs. Henry, so help me, if you don’t get your good hand up I will re-kill you myself.”

  “Well, Cally’s vote didn’t really count,” Cassandra said. “She might have lost her immortality, but she’s still sort of a god.”

  “How cavalier you all sound,” said Odysseus, “talking about killing when you’re not the ones doing it. When you won’t even see the deed done. And also, fuck the vote. When Greece wanted war with Troy, I was the only one who knew where Achilles was, and I was the only one who could convince him to fight. It’s the same now. Nobody gets him without my help.”

  Only sooner or later, Ares, or someone like him, would get the answer out of Odysseus. They’d pull it right through his skin if they had to. Cassandra knew it, and from the look on her face, so did Athena.

  “I’ve had enough of this.” Athena shoved off the countertop hard enough to rattle the cupboards. “Tell me,” she said. Hermes and Andie scattered from her path, and Henry, too. Even Cassandra stood and backed off a few steps. With stony focus, Athena upended their empty chairs and dashed them against the walls. She flipped the table from under Odysseus’ arms, and he stood to meet her nose to nose. The room held its collective breath. She would never hurt him. But she made a damn good show of it.

  “No more special treatment, hero,” she said. “I asked nicely. I won’t do it twice.”

  “Do what you have to do, love,” he said softly. “I’ll tell you I’m sorry as many times as you like. That I didn’t mean for us to be here, like this.” He gestured subtly toward Calypso, but not so subtly that Calypso didn’t notice, and her face fell. It wasn’t helping, either. If anything, it made Athena angrier.

  “Just tell her,” Hermes said, a little nervously. “She’ll get her way in the end.”

  “Can’t do that,” said Odysseus.

  “I don’t see what the big deal is,” said Henry. “He’s just one person.”

  “That’s what everyone says,” Hermes replied. “Until their city burns. That’s what you said, Hector. That’s probably what you thought, right until he killed you.”

  Henry set his jaw. “Is that really how it was? They said Hector was the best in all of Troy.”

  “The best,” Hermes agreed. “And Achilles killed you without breaking a sweat.”

  “Everyone shut up,” Athena shouted. She wrapped her fist around Odysseus’ shirt, to shove him or throw him. “Tell me where he is.”

  “Let go,” Calypso said. She stood calmly and smoothed her clothes. “You don’t need to harm Odysseus. I’ll tell you where he is.”

  “Cally, don’t,” Odysseus started, but Athena s
hushed him with a jerk of her head.

  “How do you know where he is?” she asked.

  “I know because I was there, with Ody. Really, I am the one who hid him.”

  Athena dropped Odysseus like a hot biscuit and stared at Calypso.

  “Come with me.”

  Odysseus almost followed them into the backyard, but there was little point. Beans were spilling. He swore and stalked past Cassandra.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Plan B.”

  Cassandra, Andie, Henry, and Hermes stood, half of them trying to hear what was being said in the yard and the other half listening to Odysseus ransack his bedroom. It didn’t take long for Athena and Calypso to come back in. Athena didn’t say a word to anyone, and she was up the stairs in a flash.

  “She’ll be after him soon,” said Hermes. “I’ll stay with the lot of you. Not that I can do much against Ares and his wolves besides throw you on my back and run.”

  “We should think about leaving Kincade,” Cassandra said.

  “Because it worked so well last time?” Andie asked. “No. If we’re going to get attacked, home ice advantage sounds pretty good to me.”

  “If we go, they might follow us,” said Cassandra.

  “And what then? We try to hide?”

  “Hiding from gods,” Henry muttered. “That doesn’t feel possible.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Calypso, in her soft, musical voice. “If you run, they will find you. People will die. People you know, or people you don’t. Is one more important than the other?”

  Cassandra crossed her arms. “Well, yeah. Sort of.”

  “I don’t want to run, Cassie,” Henry said. “I can’t give up everything.”

  “Say that the next time there’s a wolf on your throat,” she said, and walked out after Odysseus. “Or on Mom and Dad’s throats.”

  * * *

  Cassandra peered into Odysseus’ room. The room he shared now with Calypso? It was impossible to tell. Clothes hung out of halfway open drawers and everything looked like a t-shirt. She certainly didn’t see anything frilly, or lacy, or bralike. But maybe Calypso packed light. And she was probably cleaner and more organized, and didn’t leave everything in wrinkled piles on the floor.

  “So, do you always have a Plan B?” she asked.

  “Always,” he said. His duffel was open on the bed, and he stuffed clothes in it from the closet, drawers, and floor. “But they suck. I never need to use them. My Plan A’s usually work.”

  “I guess you’re going with her,” Cassandra said. He had already changed into boots fit to hike in and a jacket too light for Kincade winter.

  “Well, she’s not bloody going without me.”

  “If she doesn’t want you to go, do you think you can make her let you?”

  Odysseus smiled ruefully. “Don’t let her fool you. There are any number of things I can get her to do.”

  “Dirty.”

  He chuckled. His manic packing slowed, then stopped. He swatted his duffel.

  “Damn. I didn’t fancy getting on another plane so soon.”

  “Another plane? So it’s far? You didn’t just hide him right under our noses or something?”

  “No, but remind me to next time.”

  Cassandra stepped into the room. It smelled of fabric softener and whatever cologne Odysseus wore. Or maybe not cologne at all. Maybe just deodorant.

  “Why would Calypso tell Athena where he is?” Cassandra asked. “She just got here, and she’s your girlfriend—”

  “She’s not my girlfriend. I mean, she is. She was.” He groaned into his hands. “I am in so much trouble.”

  “Doesn’t seem like the smartest thing,” Cassandra agreed, “pissing off two girls who can kill you with a flick of their wrists. And they say you’re so clever.”

  “Look, I have a weakness, all right? Always have. Circe, Calypso, the witches at the Three Sisters … Athena should know this.”

  “You didn’t seriously just say that.”

  “I did, actually, but listen. It’s all right. Cally told Athena because Cally is almost as clever as I am. She wants me to think she let the cat out of the bag to kiss up to Athena, because she needs a place here. When really she did it to drive a wedge between Athena and me.” He looked around for anything he needed, anything he was forgetting. Then he closed his duffel and slapped his hand down on top.

  “Will it?” Cassandra asked. “Drive a wedge, I mean.”

  He took a breath, and for a second he looked so sad she almost hugged him.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe there was already a wedge there to begin with.” He touched her shoulder. “Will you be all right? With Hermes and Cally here, I think you will be, but if you don’t feel safe—”

  “We’ll be fine.” She punched him lightly. “And it’s really cute, the way you call her Cally.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Don’t you start.”

  “Where are you going, anyway?” she asked.

  He shouldered his bag.

  “Australia.”

  13

  KILLER OF MEN

  Cassandra turned her head right and left in front of the mirror, looking for changes in her reflection. But there were none. Same straight brown hair, same big brown eyes. No smile. She looked like she’d always looked. Maybe it really was true what they say, and homicidal maniacs looked just like everyone else.

  With Athena and Odysseus gone, she’d had plenty of time to think. And the thought that kept coming back was the sensation of Ares’ warm blood on her hands. How right it felt. And how disturbingly good.

  She turned on the faucet and cool water ran over her fingers, nowhere near as satisfying.

  “I am what I always was,” she whispered. That’s what Demeter had said. A killer of gods. Hadn’t she killed Aidan all those years ago, by loving him and putting everything into motion?

  That couldn’t be what it meant. She looked hard into the mirror, until she could see Aidan there, behind her. One more step and he’d wrap his arms around her. If only it were so easy. One thin piece of silver mirror between them. Then she’d know what to break. What to cross over into.

  If only I knew where you were.

  She put her hand against the mirror and pushed.

  Just one more time. A day. An hour. You’re a god. There has to be a way. You can’t just be gone.

  The glass shuddered under her palm.

  “Knock knock.”

  Henry poked his head in, and Cassandra jerked her arm down to her side, and Aidan vanished. She almost slammed the door on Henry’s face. But it was his day. Lux was finally coming home from the vet.

  “You going to pick him up after school?” she asked.

  “What do you mean, ‘you’?” he asked. “Aren’t you coming?” Then he saw the look on her face and winced. “Right. It’s Friday. I’m sorry; it slipped my mind.”

  “It’s okay. It’s not your job to keep up with my cemetery schedule. Besides, maybe I’ll skip a day.” But as soon as the words came out of her mouth, she knew she wouldn’t.

  “It’s cool.”

  “I could go earlier. Maybe Andie’ll drive me out at lunch. Or Hermes.”

  “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s important.”

  “Lux is important,” she said, and Henry nodded. He didn’t look anywhere near as happy as he should. “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “Just thinking.”

  “About?”

  “Lux,” he said. “He fought. That day in the woods. Those … things. They didn’t attack him. He attacked them. For us.” Cassandra imagined how Lux would have growled and leaped. Henry’s foolish, brave dog, so outclassed by Ares’ wolves.

  “I knew they’d kill him,” Henry said. “That he would die for me. And all I could think was how much I didn’t want him to. I wanted him to be a coward and run away.” He swallowed. “Is that how you felt … back then … when you watched me walk out of Troy to face him?”

/>   Him. Achilles. The memory made her sick. How did he think it had felt, to watch her brother walk out to his death? To know he was going to die. And all because Achilles challenged him, and he had too much honor, or pride, to be smart and stay safe inside the city walls.

  “Yes,” she said. “I wanted you to be a coward. I hated you for not being a coward.”

  Henry picked at the paint on the bathroom door. He seemed ashamed, and Cassandra’s heart sank. She’d seen that look before, a lifetime ago. She knew what came next.

  “Maybe that’s why I’ve been a coward now,” he said. “To make it up to you. I lay in that snow like a baby. I would’ve died if Cally hadn’t saved my ass. I couldn’t protect Lux. Or Andie.”

  “Andie would say she doesn’t need protecting.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Henry said. He touched the wrapping on his wounded arm. “When this sling comes off, I’m going to ask Hermes to train me.”

  * * *

  Athena loved Australia. The ruggedness and the wild. It was so many things at once, and easy to get lost in. She hadn’t been there in decades. She should have come back sooner.

  “I hate airplanes,” Odysseus grumbled from behind aviator sunglasses as they walked toward the Rent-A-Car in the Sydney Airport.

  “Would you have preferred a boat?” she asked.

  “Not with you around. The trip might’ve taken ten years.” There was an edge to Odysseus’ voice, and it was more than just travel crankiness. The closer they got to Achilles, the angrier he became.

  “A plane or a boat. Scylla or Charybdis. Feel familiar?” Athena asked, and smiled.

  He dropped his duffel into a plastic chair. “Just shut up and go rent us a car. Something decent. Something with four-by-four.” He waved her off, and she ground her teeth. But fine. Let him have his mood. What she would do to Achilles later would rankle him worse.

  Ten minutes later they were on the road, headed for the Hume and Monaro Highways in a rented Land Rover. Odysseus insisted on being behind the wheel, no doubt to feel more in control, and Athena turned on the AC. It was early March, but the temps were still high. They’d come too soon for falling leaves and dying foliage. Pity. It might’ve made spotting Achilles easier, if what Calypso said was true and he lived half-wild in the mountains past Jindabyne.