Cassandra shut her eyes tight. When she opened them again, the owl was just an owl. Healthy, watching her with wide yellow eyes.
“Aidan?”
“She’s here. And Hermes is with her. There’s no point running.”
* * *
The clearing flickered into view, the fallen trunks sketched across the ground like long hash marks in the mostly dead grass. Apollo and Cassandra stood on the other side, as if by magic, as if they’d been waiting. Athena put a cautious hand over Odysseus’ chest.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I won’t run headfirst into anything.”
Athena took a deep breath, trying very hard not to be annoyed with Apollo before he even opened his mouth. It felt something like a snake trying to swallow an egg.
When she reached the tree line she walked past it without pausing, and her legs struck the cold earth confident and fast. Just fast enough to be threatening, to see whether he would twitch or give ground.
He didn’t. He stood silent, his hands balled into fists at his sides, wearing jeans and a navy blue hooded sweatshirt. The hood covered most of his hair, but it was still visible across his forehead, bright gold. Steel blue eyes regarded her without blinking.
Athena almost smiled. Did they all look so handsome at first sight? She didn’t think so. It was just him, beautiful even by a god’s standards, forever the lord of the sun. He was apprehensive; she could see that in the way he stood, tense and ready for anything. But he was confident too. He thought he had the edge.
They were almost close enough to shake hands. In the electricity of the moment, the slight form of Cassandra was almost forgotten, behind and a few steps back.
Athena shifted her weight onto her hip.
“Apollo.”
“It’s Aidan now.”
She snorted. “No, it isn’t. And it never will be, no matter how many years you spend playing human house.”
His eyes narrowed. It wasn’t how she’d meant to start things. Confrontation was counterproductive, but angry words backed up in her throat. What was he doing here? Why was he, one of her favorite brothers, standing in her way?
Aidan took a deep breath. “Still the same, Athena, after all this time. Guess it was too much to hope that a few thousand years would’ve humanized you a little.” His eyes flickered to her jeans, to her tattoos. She lifted her wrist to give him a better view.
“They’re just costumes we wear. Like that sweatshirt of yours.” She raised her chin. “Take off that hood. You look like a punk.”
He smiled and shook his head, but he pushed it back. “Better?”
“It’s a start.”
“I hear you’re dying,” he said. “I can see what’s happening to him”—he nodded toward Hermes, several feet behind her with Odysseus—“but what’s your story?”
Athena glanced at the owls sitting all around them in the trees. Two more drifted in while they spoke.
“The owls. Their feathers. Choking me, worming through my guts.” She shrugged. “What about you?”
He smiled. It was a smile of triumph. Her knee moved to take a step, whether forward or back she didn’t know. She wanted to touch his face. She wanted to inspect him. She wanted to tear a branch off of one of the fallen trees and beat him until the blood flew.
“He’s not dying.” Athena felt Hermes and Odysseus move closer, crowding against her back for a better view.
It could be a bluff.
But it wasn’t. Apollo was perfect, unblemished. She looked him over carefully, assessing him like a horse. How was it possible? How had he escaped? And then the darker questions: Could it be duplicated? Could it be taken from him?
“I know why you’re here,” he said. “And the answer is no. So I want you to go, before you bring worse trouble.”
“Worse trouble?” Athena studied him. He was no natural-born liar. His eyes told her everything in the space of a second. “You’ve been hermit-crabbing in the mortal world for too long. You don’t know anything.”
Certainly not as much as he wanted her to think he did. He knew they were dying. He knew she wanted Cassandra.
But he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know about Poseidon, or Hera, or Aphrodite. He probably doesn’t even know about the war.
“Brother. The worse trouble will come knocking, with or without me.”
“I said no, Athena.”
“Don’t be an idiot. You don’t get to say no.” She looked at Cassandra. “And neither does she.”
At the mention of her, he stepped in front of Cassandra, blocking her from view, and stared at Athena, hard as nails.