Alive for the time being. And not of her doing, but Ares’. Ares, and Aphrodite, and she’d probably been a fool to accept their help.
Except for maybe the first time in his life, Ares had been a gift, and you didn’t look a gift god in the mouth even if he was a treacherous, violent, hateful ass. No matter how many problems it was going to cause with Cassandra. No matter how little Athena actually trusted them. Even the traitorous feeling she got every second she allowed Aphrodite to live was worth it for Odysseus.
“You shouldn’t wander so far. Not with Hades on his way.”
Athena turned. Aphrodite stood a few steps behind. She’d always been light and quiet on her feet.
“I didn’t wander far,” Athena said, but in truth she had no idea. Distance played tricks in the underworld, just like time did. She shouldn’t have gone off by herself at all.
Aphrodite stared into her face, big blue eyes steady and somehow just as disturbing to Athena as if they’d been rolling and mad.
“What?” Athena asked.
“There are too many emotions running through you. Set some down.”
“Just because you got a few of your marbles back doesn’t mean you can psych me,” Athena said. “Be careful what you say now.”
“I’m only trying to help,” Aphrodite said, and frowned. “You need to talk.”
“Not to you.”
“To who then? Dear as he is, Ares doesn’t solve problems with words. And Odysseus you would never show your belly to. I know you, Athena, as sure as I’ve always disliked you. I just never understood you until now.”
Athena narrowed her eyes.
“I fall in love and suddenly I’m relatable.”
“Yes,” Aphrodite said. “Part of you is mine now, and that bothers you more than anything. You’re not above me. Not better than me.” A little heat snuck into her voice. A trace of bitterness. “Part of you wants to turn him away just to prove me wrong. But don’t. I’ve always known about your envy. The same way you always knew about mine.”
“I never envied you,” Athena said. “And you have a one-track mind, as usual.”
“I know that’s not the only thing.” Aphrodite shrugged. “There’s fear, too. And guilt.”
“Fear?” Athena asked skeptically.
“Yes. So many new things for you,” Aphrodite said. “You’re guilty because you dove off of Olympus and left them alone to fight. And you’re afraid because even if you hadn’t, they would have lost anyway. Goddess of battle. You’re not what you once were. None of us are what we once were.”
The words stung. Athena still had so much pride. Even though she knew that it was her pride that had almost cost them everything.
“Those moments outside Olympus,” Athena said. “I replay them over and over. I try to stop myself from running in. Try to make myself listen.”
Aphrodite inclined her head sympathetically.
“I used them like soldiers,” Athena said, “when I had no right to. I still thought of myself as their god. But their fates aren’t mine. I’m not worthy of them anymore, if I ever was.”
“Now we make mortal mistakes,” Aphrodite said, nodding. “Now we have consequences.” She twisted the filthy fabric of her skirt between her hands. “It’s … unpleasant. I don’t enjoy it.”
Athena laughed, and Aphrodite looked up in surprise.
“I’m not laughing at you,” Athena said, and they paused. It was as close as they’d ever come to a warm moment. But it didn’t last. Aphrodite was saner in the underworld, but still not sane, and Athena’s laughter put her on edge. Her blue eyes wobbled.
“I’m sorry,” Aphrodite said. “I didn’t know what I was doing, when I killed him.”
“You mean when you killed my brother. Aidan.”
“My brother,” Aphrodite moaned. “Our brother.” She clutched the sides of her head. “It went right through him. But I didn’t know. Forgive me.”
“Forgiveness for that isn’t something you ask for,” Athena muttered. “You either get it or you don’t. And it isn’t up to me. It’s up to the girl you stole him from.”
“I didn’t know,” Aphrodite said again.
“Explain it to Cassandra.”
Athena brushed past Aphrodite to return to the riverbank. Aphrodite seemed about ready to weep, and Athena had no wish to be moved to sympathy. Not about that. Not yet.