Mortal Gods

She shrugged.

“I’m pretty sure I can work a loom,” she said.

“Yuck. Boring.”

“Just be glad Athena didn’t choke you, too. You used to do it with me. We’d sit all day in a room and weave, talking about the menfolk. They were riveting times.”

“Hey. You guys are going to be late.” Henry walked toward them from the direction of his locker, looking strangely naked without a notebook in his hand.

“We’re late already,” said Andie. “Aren’t you?”

“I’ve got a free study hall period. I told Coach Baker I’d go clean up the weight room.” He nodded at Andie. “You look like hell. You’ve got to rub out the lactic acid. Strip the muscle.” He moved toward her, and she growled. “Fine. Later maybe. So are you learning anything, or just getting your ass kicked?”

“I’m learning everything,” Andie replied. “I could kill you with my pinkie finger. If only I could bend it.” She told him what she and Athena were working on, and the excitement in her voice was plain. And something else, too, that Cassandra didn’t like: eyes like stars when she said Athena’s name. The goddess’ glamour, getting to her. Henry didn’t like it, either. But there wasn’t anything they could do about it.

“You should let her train you, too,” Andie said.

“No.” Henry was firm.

“Is it just because it’s her? If Aidan was here, would you let him?”

“No,” said Henry. “I just want them all to die.” He looked sheepishly at Cassandra, but she knew what he meant. He hit Cassandra in the shoulder and walked away.

“How can he say that?” Andie asked. “How can he mean it? I know you guys blame Athena for Aidan dying, and frankly, that’s twisted, but what about Hermes? He’s our friend. And Aidan was. It’s not all of them.”

Cassandra stared after Henry. He looked more like Hector now, even without his memories. One life bled onto the other. Why? Out of necessity? Because he was needed? She’d often wondered why fate had chosen to plant the three of them in Kincade and no others from Troy. Where were Paris and Helen? Where were Troilus and beastly Agamemnon? Were they waiting somewhere? Would she see them again? Or had the Fates finally finished with them?

If they have, they should count themselves lucky.

“It’s not all of them,” Cassandra said to Andie quietly. “But their problems become our problems. Their problems are going to change our lives.”

*   *   *

Cassandra had been standing in front of Aidan’s headstone for an hour. Another Friday in front of his grave, not knowing what to say. Her throat hurt from the urge to cry, from backed-up tears and stopped-up words. If she opened her mouth, she would only scream.

He couldn’t be dead. Not really. He was a god. But Cassandra looked at the ground and felt nothing. No lingering spirit. No connection.

If only he were there. If only she could speak to him and have him speak back.

“Where do gods go?” she wondered aloud. To Hades? To the underworld? Or somewhere else entirely?

Behind her, Athena stood in the trees, feeding owls or something and waiting to take her home. Cassandra turned to see her guardian at her post, but Athena didn’t seem to be guarding. She was restless, pacing and kicking her toes into the snow like a deer after grass. Maybe she was missing Odysseus.

Cassandra walked quietly out of the cemetery, and waited for Athena’s head to rise, for her to notice. But she didn’t. She didn’t notice until Cassandra was practically on top of her.

“Your feet are freezing.” Athena glanced at Cassandra’s shoes, soaked through. Her toes curled inward and lifted as they walked to the street, trying to keep them off the cold ground. “I should’ve been warming up the car.”

“It’s fine,” Cassandra said. They got into the Dodge, and Athena blasted the floor heater to no avail. It was basically shot; by the time they got home, the air coming out of it would be almost lukewarm.

“How’s it going with Andie?” Cassandra asked.

“It’s going well. She’s strong. Mindful of her balance.”

“But none of that will make any difference if she comes up against a god,” Cassandra said. Andie was strong. Tough. Smart. But against a god she could swing a sword with a razor edge and it might as well be made out of Nerf plastic.

“Against a god, the only thing she could do is die well,” said Athena.

“Do you think that’s funny?”