Odysseus stood between them. “We can trust him. And we will. We’re not on opposite sides anymore. This isn’t Troy.” He looked at Achilles, who nodded.
“This isn’t Troy.”
* * *
“Knock knock.”
“Go away.”
“But I saved you a slice of pizza.” Hermes pushed a plate through the cracked open door and waggled it. Athena had been hiding in the darkness of her room for hours, not bothering to turn on a lamp when the sun went down, just trying to keep from hearing mortal drama and ignoring the throbbing of her mangled foot. Hermes flipped the light on and sat on the bed. He eyed her shoulder and leg, elevated on a pillow.
“You look rough,” he said.
If she looked rough, he looked worse. Skin stretched across his wrist as he passed her the plate. She couldn’t tell if the extra eating was helping at all.
But it might be slowing it down. Please, let it slow down.
“Here,” he said. “Eat up. Sausage, bacon, and onion. I don’t waste space with low-calorie veg.”
She snorted and picked it up. “Hermes. There’s a bite taken out of it.”
“Well what did you expect?” He swooped in and stole another bite. “I only ordered six, and you brought home two extra mouths.”
“This house is getting crowded.”
“Well.” Hermes lay back beside her. “We’ve got the space for one more boy. And such a pretty boy.” A low fever radiated off him. He hadn’t had it when she’d left, but they’d come and gone before.
“How are you feeling, brother?”
“Fine and finer,” he said. “Don’t worry about me.” He gestured to the plate. “Eat that before I do.”
She took a bite but barely tasted it.
“It’ll be over soon, Hermes. The war. I promise.”
He put an arm around her. “Why so blue? Suburban life getting you down?”
She rested her head against him. What had he said to her on the banks of the Green River, camped out on their way to find Circe’s witches in Chicago? They were obsolete gods in a dying world. He wanted peace. Comfort in his final days. If she’d left him there by the river, he might’ve accepted dying and had months of wine and beauty and decadence. But they would win, and he would live. So there would be plenty of time for that.
When she looked at him, her eyes burned.
“What should we do, after it’s over?” she asked. “Where should we go? Rome? Firenze? Amsterdam? Anywhere. You name it, and we’ll go. We’ll drink it dry. Throw money in the air. Roll around in satin.”
He laughed softly. “Someone’s been watching too many music videos. Not that it doesn’t sound nice.” He stole a bite of crust. “First things first. We have the weapons. What now?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Train them. Get them ready. It won’t be long before Hera comes for Achilles. Her pride won’t let me have him, too.”
“Was that your plan all along?” he asked.
“No. My plan was that she’d come for us once she knew I’d killed him. But one is just as good as the other.”
There was a knock, and Odysseus poked his head in.
“Am I interrupting?” he asked.
“Only if you have bad news.”
“Just looking for blankets and an extra pillow.” He walked in and opened the door to Athena’s closet. Several quilts and a comforter still in the plastic sat on the top shelf, but there were no extra pillows. He grabbed a quilt and the comforter.
“For Achilles?” Athena asked.
“For me. I gave up my room to Achilles, and Calypso’s already in the extra room. I’m riding the comfy couch.”
“The couch?” Hermes asked, and made a face. “Why the couch? Athena’s bed’s more than big enough for two.”
She shoved the plate of pizza into her brother’s stomach. “So’s yours,” she said. “Get out.”
Hermes rolled off the bed and paused at the door. “Alas, Odysseus and I already tried that in the rain forest.” Odysseus laughed, and Hermes ducked out before Athena could throw a pillow.
“Here.” She tossed it at Odysseus instead. “Take one of mine. I only have the one head anyway.”
“Thanks.” He headed for the door then stopped. “Fancy some company? I’m not really that tired.”
“That’s because you passed out cold most of the way from Sydney.” She jerked her head toward the other side of the bed.