Antigoddess

“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.”