Mortal Gods

by Kendare Blake

  “Not us. But the Moirae. And through them we’ll regain our strength. Athena and Hermes are a meal for us, even if we don’t do the actual chewing.” He flexed his arm. The cut that had refused to heal was gone. Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos took care of it when he returned with Panic. A reward? Or perhaps a last infusion of strength so he could better do their work.

  Athena’s face flashed behind his eyes. So fierce. So bullheaded. So unprepared.

  “Ares,” Aphrodite said, and tugged on his arm. She gestured to the door, where Panic paced back and forth. “The Moirae call.”

  The Moirae called. And when they called, the gods went.

  Poor Athena. She actually thought she was going to win.

  27

  ARMING

  Athena and Hermes found their way back to the house just after dawn. The sun breached bright and yellow, rising to meet a cloudless blue sky. No orange. No pink. No glorious reds. Just yellow. It was a good omen, maybe. Aidan’s eye, peering down, making sure she did as she had promised.

  “Nothing will touch Cassandra, brother,” she whispered. “I swear.”

  “What?” Hermes asked. He went into the house and shed his shoes. The kitchen was stocked for a massive breakfast, just for him. The others would eat light.

  “Nothing,” Athena replied. Somewhere in the backyard, a bird trilled. Down the block, someone started their car. An ordinary day, if not for the faintly audible clang of weapons being packed into bags.

  “Can I fix you anything?” Hermes asked. Athena had never been less hungry.

  “Save me an egg,” she said. “I’m going to check on the packing.” She put silent feet to the basement stairs and stopped when she heard their voices: Odysseus and Calypso.

  “It will be all right,” Calypso said.

  “It might,” he said. “It might not. But she thinks she knows.”

  Athena bristled hearing them talk about her. She wondered what else they said, when she wasn’t there. Had Calypso told him what happened last night? Had they laughed at her together?

  “If you think she’s making a mistake,” Calypso said, “then why are you following her?”

  Odysseus paused. “Because I always follow her,” he said. Fabric moved, and metal slid against metal. “Because old habits die hard.”

  Because you can’t let me go without you. Say it.

  “I need you to do something for me, Cally.”

  “Anything.”

  “I need you to look after Andie and Henry. She’ll be preoccupied with Cassandra and Achilles. Andie and Henry are vulnerable.”

  “But she must know that,” Calypso said.

  “Of course she does. She’s been a general long enough to know that soldiers die. But she wouldn’t tell them that. So, take care of them, will you?”

  “I will. With my life. They’ve become friends to me.”

  “Me, too,” he said.

  Athena backed quietly up the steps. So that’s what he thought of her. That she would let Andie and Henry die. Sacrifice them, for Olympus, like an offering of blood might help their chances.

  He had no faith, though he’d seen her wage many battles. Though she was the goddess of war. She had the weapons, and the Fates were with her. She’d always intended to have Andie and Henry covered in the back, to face off against wolves or nothing, with Hermes standing guard. The battle would be hard, and there would be pain. But they would win. And it would be a one-sided, glorious victory.

  Before the day was over, he would see.

  * * *

  Henry took Andie home to change early. They met her groggy mom, fresh off the night shift at the hospital. Andie hugged her long and hard, so long that her confused mother started to laugh. Andie laughed, too. Henry just stood there with a lump in his throat.

  It wasn’t long before she’d dressed, in light shoes with good treads, pants with extra pockets, and a jacket. She emptied out her backpack to be filled with knives and other supplies. When she was ready, they got back into Henry’s Mustang and sat, his hand idle over the shifter.

  “We don’t have to go,” he said. “They’d track Cassandra if she didn’t show, but not us. They wouldn’t even come looking.”

  “That’s my line,” Andie said. “Andromache’s line. ‘Don’t go, Hector, don’t fight.’ But we have to, Henry.” Her hand trembled over his. “They sent those wolves, and they’ll send them again if Athena loses. We can’t let them get Lux again. We can’t let Cassandra go alone.”

  She leaned over fast and kissed his cheek. He blinked at her in shock.

  “I feel our old lives coming through today,” she said. “It feels like I should tie you up. Or stand in front of you. I’m terrified I’ll see you die. And then I’ll remember what it was like the first time. Pretty dumb, huh?”

  Henry reached over and took her hand. It felt like ice, but her fingers twisted through his and squeezed.

  * * *

  They’d have to take two cars, Athena realized. She should’ve thought of that and rented a van, but it was too late now. Hermes loaded a green canvas pack into the trunk of the Dodge, on top of everything else, right near the front. Another sat at his feet, to go into the trunk of Henry’s Mustang.

  “Hey.” She nodded toward it. “What’s that?”

  “That is a combat medic first aid bag. I may have lifted them from the army base a few days ago.”

  Good thinking. Inside would be bandages, gauze rolls, suture sets, and antiseptic. Hopefully more than what they’d need.

  Cassandra came out, carrying another bag of weaponry. She’d shown up a half hour after Athena and Hermes got back, with Achilles by her side.

  “Do you want me to get that?” Athena asked. She stepped toward the car, but Cassandra heaved the bag into the trunk on her own.

  “Nope. I want you to keep on standing there with a dopey look on your face.” She smiled. “It’s fine. I’ve got it.” The smile wasn’t exactly warm, but it was something. Better than feathers exploding out of her arm. Athena went into the house. The rest of the packing she’d leave to Andie and Henry. Let the activity calm their nerves. Her hands slid over the smooth, cold surface of her oak dining room table.

  Olympus. After all these years, they were going back.

  “What are you doing in here?” Odysseus walked up behind her, wiping the blade of a freshly sharpened knife.

  “Leaning on a table. What’s it look like?”

  “Where were you last night?” he asked.

  “I’m surprised you noticed I was gone.” Her tone was petty and childish. She pressed her lips together and wished they’d glue that way.

  “Of course I noticed. I would’ve liked to … talk to you,” he said. He studied the blade under the light and returned it to its sheath. “I know. You don’t want any big good-byes. We don’t need them. Because we’re going to win, right? But I wanted that time. I thought you’d be here.”

  “Odysseus—”

  “Aren’t you the slightest bit afraid that I’ll die today?”

  “You?” She laughed. He wouldn’t sandbag inside Olympus, and his hidden speed and strength were more than enough to carry him through. “Not you. Never you. In Troy you charged a thousand swords and no one touched you.”

  He snorted. “I remember a wicked spear scar that says differently.”

  “But still, you died in your bed, an old man.”

  “So I did,” he said. He slipped his arms around her waist. “I still worry for you, goddess.”

  She pushed her fingers into his hair. Henry’s Mustang growled into the driveway.

  Odysseus sighed and pressed his forehead to hers.

  “No more time for this, I suppose.”

  28

  OLYMPUS

  Andie’s cave wasn’t far. Less than an hour’s drive. Athena craned her neck over Odysseus’ arm to get a look at the speedometer of the Dodge.

  “What? Am I not driving fast enough?”

  “It’s fine,” she said.

 
“If you want me to go faster, just say so. But there’s ice on the road.”

  “There isn’t ice on the road. It’s almost forty degrees out.”

  Odysseus gave her sideways eyes. “Not in the shade.”

  Hermes leaned in between them from the backseat he shared with Achilles.

  “Remember the good old days?” he asked. “When mortals just did what they were told?”

  Athena pointed at Odysseus. “That one never did what he was told.”

  Achilles head popped up between them, too, four heads wedged into the front seat, each one wound tight with nervous energy. Today the Dodge was six sizes too small, ten times too slow. Athena glanced into the side mirror, at Henry’s black Mustang following close behind. Around her, Hermes, Odysseus, and Achilles continued to chatter, and she tuned them out. When they arrived at Olympus there’d be no time for pondering or nerves. They’d have to be sharp and do as she ordered. So they’d better let it all out now, in the car.

  “It wasn’t hard to get into the underworld?” Achilles asked.

  “Nope, just blood and a boat. Same as always.”

  “Was Hades there?” he asked.

  “If he was, I didn’t see him,” Athena replied.

  “No Hades, and no Apollo, either. Huh.” Achilles sat back thoughtfully.

  “His name was Aidan,” she said. “We call him Aidan now.”

  “Aidan or Apollo, he wasn’t there. And if he wasn’t there, where do you think he is?”

  Athena glanced at Hermes, who stared back, following the conversation with interest.

  “I don’t want to talk about this right now,” she said. Hermes didn’t need to be thinking about their fallen family right before he fought the surviving members. He didn’t need to be thinking about what would happen if he died. If he went into battle afraid of the void, he’d get himself killed for sure.

  They pulled the cars off the road, into a quiet turnaround just short of the state park. Athena was out first, and she saw the others get out of the Mustang. Andie hugged herself tight, feigning cold to cover her shaking. Henry popped the trunk.

  “No,” Athena said. “Leave that one packed. In case something happens to the other supplies. The Mustang will make for a better escape pod than this would.” She drummed her fist against the hood of the Dodge and accidentally dented it. Odysseus eyed the dent.

  “I thought you said we were going to win,” he said quietly.

  “Pack up,” she said, and gestured up the hiking path. She looked at Andie. “How far up the trail?”

  Andie shrugged.

  “Half a mile? It’s just across a stream.”

  “Okay.”

  They walked single file, the only way the narrow path would allow. Hermes led, and Athena brought up the rear. The spring melt turned the dirt to mud and loosened the rocks.

  “Hermes,” she said, “keep it slow. We don’t need anyone turning an ankle.”

  As they crossed the creek, the cave became visible, not much more than a five-by-five black spot in the dirt and stone of the hill.

  “Is that it?” Athena asked.

  “Yeah,” said Andie. “It looks weird, without the leaves and grass. I’ve never seen it like this before.”

  “Just wait until we get inside,” Hermes said.

  “It’ll be fine,” said Athena. No need to frighten them any more, right from the get-go. “Stop outside the mouth. Let’s arm up.”

  They did it quietly, helping each other secure knives against their sides and legs, sliding blades down into boots. Achilles put his favorite sword across his back. Odysseus opted for a crossbow, but strapped a sword on, too, when Athena threw it at him. Henry and Andie took up the only two spears they’d been able to fit in the cars, and a matching set of shields. Calypso chose long-bladed knives. Athena, Hermes, and Cassandra were unarmed.

  “Cassandra,” said Athena, “maybe you should take a shield.”

  Cassandra smirked.

  “You are my shield.”

  Achilles moved to stand beside her. “She’s your shield, and I’m your sword.”

  Odysseus gathered the rest of their supplies and stowed them behind some bare shrubs. It wasn’t exactly the best cover, but no one was likely to come along, anyway. The park didn’t open to hikers for another month.

  “Ready?” Athena looked at Odysseus, and at Hermes. They nodded. “Okay. We switch leads in the cave. Hermes is in the back. I’m out front, with Achilles and Cassandra. Then Odysseus and Calypso. Andie and Henry, keep to the middle, and don’t leave Hermes. Understand?”

  “Don’t leave him?” Henry asked. “What if he leaves us? It’s not like we can keep up.”

  “I won’t leave you. I promise.” Hermes smiled. “And if I do, I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

  Athena turned her back on them. Now wasn’t the time for her to comfort mortals. She was mortal. And inside the cave, she would take her godhood back.

  She filled her lungs with cold air and felt it rush into her blood. Her heart pumped. Her muscles wound tight.

  I am the goddess of battle.

  * * *

  Cassandra squared her shoulders and followed Athena into the cave. As the shadow fell over her head, she knew how it must feel to be a clown loading into a car. Any minute now, she’d run into Athena’s back, and then Achilles into hers, and so on and so forth until they were all swearing and squirming in the dark, wedged into a twelve-foot-deep hole with no back exit.

  But that didn’t happen. They walked and kept walking, and Cassandra couldn’t tell when the cave stopped being the cave in the state park and started being part of Olympus, but it did. She breathed deep, expecting to smell salt and wet rock, but the air was cool and scented softly with sweet herbs. She could see, too, and not because her eyes had adjusted. Eyes didn’t adjust to the total dark of a cave. But as they went farther she could see more and more.

  Walls shifted gradually from jagged stone to smooth, and then from stone to white marble. The ground beneath her feet became an actual floor, and it was fire-warmed and comfortable.

  Of course it was. It was the home of the gods.

  “Does the old Trojan princess inside you want to fall to her knees and tremble?” Achilles whispered.

  “Not one bit,” she said back.

  “Here. Up this way.” Athena turned up a short flight of stone steps. At the top they opened on a small room, the walls covered in relief sculpture depicting gods in flight and in ecstasy, slaying beasts and creating them, storms and victories. Cassandra thought she recognized Hercules and the Hydra. The room was a tapestry of greatest hits.

  Athena looked around, and then turned to face them.

  “Tell me you know where we are,” Cassandra said.

  “Of course I do.” Athena’s voice left no echo, despite standing in a circle of enclosed rock. She sounded sure, but the way she looked around searching the walls seemed confused. Or maybe she was just admiring the sculpture.

  Hermes turned in a small circle.

  “It’s weird, being back,” he said.

  “It’s weird, period,” said Andie. The spear shook in her hand. “Where do we go now? Back the way we came?”

  “No. Not the way we came. Through the door.”

  “What door?” Andie asked. There wasn’t any door. Not until Athena turned and pointed to the open passageway.

  “There are doors everywhere,” Athena said. “So be on guard. They’ll send things for us, through the walls. Pick us off, one by one.”

  “How do you know?” Andie asked.

  “Because it’s what she would do herself,” Odysseus replied. “We should get moving. They already know we’re here.”

  “Of course we do.”

  Aphrodite’s bright blue dress fluttered in the open doorway. Her arms braced against either side, and her face emerged from shadow like a cracked porcelain doll, white and painted, framed with hair so golden it seemed artificial.

  “Aphrodite,” Cassandra growled. Aidan’s murder
er. Rage seared down to her toes and fingertips. Good. She wanted Aphrodite to be first.

  Cassandra ran too fast for Athena to stop her into the hallway as Aphrodite giggled and fled. Her hands were on fire. Her feet pounded so hard it felt like she could crack the marble floor.

  Athena shouted, and ordered Hermes and the others to stay behind. But Athena couldn’t stop her. Not this time. The heat in her hands would flow over Aphrodite’s face. Those wicked blue eyes would fill with blood. The golden hair would melt off her skull.

  Cassandra turned a corner. The hall was empty. No scrap of blue dress to follow and no mocking laughter to track. She slowed, listened for footsteps, and heard nothing.

  “Don’t run off like that.” Athena stood beside her and looked for signs of the other goddess. “Follow orders.”

  “Where the hell is she?” Cassandra shouted. “Where did she go?”

  “Where she went isn’t the problem,” Athena said, and ran her hands over the walls of their small stone chamber. “The problem is, where did we go?”

  “What?” Cassandra asked. Pissed off as she was, she hadn’t noticed at first that the hallway they’d run down was gone. Shut. Disappeared.

  * * *

  “We should go after them. It’s been too long.”

  “Athena said to wait here,” Hermes said. He paced at the doorway’s dark mouth, but Odysseus was right. It had been too long. Athena should’ve been able to grab Cassandra by the shirtsleeve and drag her back minutes ago.

  “What are we waiting for?” Odysseus growled.

  “This is bad,” Andie whispered. “This is bad.”

  “What if Aphrodite got them? What if she got Athena like she did Aidan?” Henry asked, holding his spear at the ready. “We’ve got to go after my sister!”

  Hermes pressed his hands against his skull. His voice grew louder with every progressive word. “My sister said that we should wait, and we will give her another goddamn minute!” He closed his eyes. But he above all the others should keep his eyes wide open. He was what they had, if Athena didn’t come back. It would be up to him to lead them farther in, or beat a hasty retreat.

  But he couldn’t retreat. He couldn’t leave Athena and Cassandra stuck inside. He looked at Calypso. She could take the mortals out, and he and Achilles could go on alone.