Antigoddess

  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 l
egs.”

  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.

  20

  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 t
oward 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.”