Mortal Gods

They’d held the wolf hostage for two days. Long enough for Calypso’s cuts to almost completely disappear, and long enough for Athena to run out of patience.

“Speaking of hurries,” Cassandra said, “why are you in such a hurry all of—” She paused. Her nose tingled, like she was about to sneeze. But instead the tingle turned to a burn. Smoke rushed into Cassandra’s eyes, and she doubled over, coughing, her eyes watering buckets. The basement cement burned up in flames and ash. All the walls. Even the floor. Someone screamed. Not her. Not Athena, either. The voice was raw and full of panic. On fire. Cassandra whimpered, and Athena caught her as the flames ate the last of the oxygen in the room.

*   *   *

Cassandra woke up on the living room sofa smelling like a campfire, and underneath that, like burnt human flesh. Her clothes were ruined. All the Febreze in the world wouldn’t take that stench out.

“Here,” Hermes said to Athena, and handed her a steaming mug.

“Cassandra,” Athena said. “Sit up. Take a few sips of this.”

The heat of the tea burned over Cassandra’s lips and down her throat, nowhere near as hot as the smoke. Athena touched her cheek with the backs of her fingers and brushed her hair over her shoulder, the way Odysseus sometimes did.

“Tell us what you saw.”

A vision. Like so many others. Death and destruction. People in flames. Vague, maddening flashes full of blood and smoke and never once any useful detail.

“A fire,” she said. “Something’s going to burn. And someone. Lots of someones.”

“Someone?” Andie asked. “Who?”

“Just go over it from the beginning,” Athena said.

Go over it from the beginning. Athena sounded so calm. Like she really thought it would make a difference.

In one fast, sweeping motion, Cassandra threw the mug of tea into the opposite wall. It shattered, and Athena jumped backward, dragging Hermes and Calypso back with her. Beware, beware, the tantrums of a god killer.

“Sorry,” Cassandra muttered. “The tea tasted like burnt people.”

“Hey,” Odysseus said. He moved closer and put his hands on her shoulders. “Easy. Take a few minutes. It’s okay.”

“I don’t need a few minutes,” Cassandra spat. “Why aren’t we training? Or interrogating the red dog some more?”

“Cassie,” Henry said.

“Don’t fucking Cassie me, Henry.”

“But why won’t you tell us what you saw? Was it that bad? Was it one of us?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “And it doesn’t matter. I saw it, so it is. You, or me, or Andie, I don’t know. But if it was us then we burn. Let’s go.” She stalked toward the backyard.

“We could try,” Athena said, without much enthusiasm.

“We can’t, and you know it. The only way to stop more of this is to stop all of it. To stop the source. So come on.”

*   *   *

Calypso volunteered to babysit Panic.

“See if you can charm some secrets out of its head while you’re at it,” Athena said.

“And don’t get too close,” said Odysseus. He touched her arm and her cheek, all but healed. Jealousy and bitterness balled up in Athena’s throat.

“Tastes like shit,” she whispered, so quietly that only Hermes heard. He squeezed her shoulder as she led them outside. The light was fading, the air heavy and chilled with mist. They didn’t have long. The mortals would catch a cold.

“Come on then, Hermes,” Achilles said, and stretched his arms like a lazy cat.

“No.” Athena tossed him a b?. “You’re with me.” There would be no more marks on her brother’s limbs. No more bruises, if she could help it. “Hermes, coach Henry and Andie. Odysseus, you’re with Cassandra.”

Hermes tossed Andie her wooden kendo sword. But as they walked into the yard, every eye lingered on Athena and Achilles.

“You and me?” Achilles smiled. “I’m flattered. Honored.” He dropped the b? and let it clatter against the cement patio.

“Pick that up,” she said.

“I don’t want the distance between us.”

Athena circled. “We’ve done that before. I broke your neck.”

“Right. And if you do it again, it’ll cause a three-second delay in the action.” He sprang and struck her in the face.

*   *   *

Odysseus said they should practice the only thing Cassandra would find useful against a god: dodging. For several minutes he stood across from her and threw punches at half-speed, all the while listening to Athena’s and Achilles’ fists.