Antigoddess gw-1
Page 29
“I’m sorry,” she said, and nodded. “But it feels wrong. And I can’t do anything about any of it.”
Cassandra drew a shaky breath.
“I don’t have the energy to say anything to you. He’s dead.” Tears slipped out of her eyes and fell softly on the chest of her black dress. “I think it was a mistake. I want you to take it back.” They would lower the coffin into the ground soon. They would cover him over with dirt. “I was supposed to spend my life with him,” Cassandra said. “And then you showed up.”
“Hey,” Odysseus said gently. “It wasn’t her fault.”
Cassandra clenched her fists. “But whose fault is it, then? Are you still dying?”
Athena glanced at Hermes, then at Odysseus. She nodded, but Cassandra didn’t really need an answer. Athena had coughed twice on the walk across the cemetery, and Hermes shook with fever as much as mourning. It hadn’t stopped. Aidan was dead, and they still hadn’t saved themselves.
“Maybe this was never about saving our lives.” Athena looked at Aidan’s coffin. “Maybe it was about redemption.”
“Or maybe it isn’t over.” Cassandra wiped her eyes. “Do you know what happened? What went through me?”
Athena shook her head. “You kill gods. It must be what Demeter meant. That you could change everything. That you’d be more.”
“Why? And how?” Beneath her gloves, her hands burned. It was still inside her. “It’s not over.”
“It’s over,” said Hermes. “It has to be.”
Cassandra stared at Aidan’s coffin. There were other gods out there. Gods who would fight, just like Hera did, to stay alive. They’d be coming. And the one who had killed Aidan. She was still alive. “This isn’t over. Not for me.”
“Cassie.” Henry shrugged helplessly. “Maybe everything can go back to normal now. Maybe we’re safe.”
“They’re not safe.” She turned to Athena. “You can’t just leave. You promised Aidan you’d protect us.”
“Maybe with Hera and Poseidon gone, you don’t need protecting. Maybe Henry is right.”
“I’ll need protecting when I go after her. I’ll need your help.”
Andie grabbed her arm. “Go after who?”
“Aphrodite.” Cassandra shrugged her off. Athena and Hermes exchanged a glance, and Cassandra’s fists tightened. If they say one word about revenge not being what Aidan wanted, I’ll scream.
But Athena only sighed.
“I wasn’t going to go far. People with destinies like yours are rarely safe.”
“So you’ll help.”
Athena lowered her head, and Odysseus edged forward. “Hey. We shouldn’t be talking about this today.”
“There’s a lot that shouldn’t be today.” Hermes spoke loudly, his eyes on the overcast sky. “He shouldn’t be put beneath the dirt. He was the god of the sun. He should be burned on a pyre of oak, hot and bright. It should be glorious.” He looked at his sister and took her hand. “So let’s make it so.” He nodded toward the gray clouds.
Athena exhaled. “It won’t work.”
Cassandra studied the sky, felt the chill of the wind against her cheeks. Hermes was right. It was all too cold.
“Try,” she said softly.
Athena and Hermes closed their eyes, using the will of gods to move mountains, to wield the power they once had. Not even Cassandra expected anything to happen, until she felt the warmth of sunlight on her face and hands.
Athena opened her eyes and watched the clouds roll back.
“I should have told my brother I loved him.”
Cassandra swallowed hard. “I should have too. I guess I thought he’d be around to hear it later.”
Athena stepped to the coffin and ran her fingers along the shining edge of black. “He was proud to die like this. Like a human. Like one of you. He died a hero.”
Cassandra’s breath hitched. She felt Andie and Henry’s hands on each of her shoulders. Odysseus and Hermes put theirs on Athena’s.
“Good-bye, Aidan,” Athena whispered.
Cassandra stared with wide eyes into the clearing sky, as the clouds dissolved and drew back like a curtain. It took a long time, but finally, a small smile started to curl at the corners of her mouth.
They left the cemetery together. Behind them, the black of Aidan’s coffin blazed like fire beneath the bright light.
And thus was their burial of Apollo, god of the sun.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I have to start off by thanking my publicist, Alexis Saarela. Not only because she is a publicity wiz, which she is, but also because for two whole books I’ve forgotten to thank her. So thank you, Alexis, and I apologize for being such a huge butt.
Thank you to my agent, Adriann Ranta, for being the best advocate a writer could ask for. She also made sure this book got a much better title than the one I had originally planned.
Melissa Frain … what can I say? If there’s any downside to having her as an editor, it might be that I’m becoming completely dependent on her expertise. Something weird? And it don’t look good? Who’m I gonna call? Mel. Duh. She’ll see it in an instant. (I apologize for the Ghostbusters reference. I miss writing those.) So thank you, Mel!
Thank you to the lovely and talented novelists Sara Bennett Wealer and Daisy Whitney. Without Sara this book would be firmly lodged in 1985, technology-wise. Daisy, thank you for your focus and fixing the ending!
Art director Seth Lerner, thanks for another striking cover. The entire team at Tor is incredible, and deserves undying gratitude.
I feel like I should thank Homer, but he might not have even existed. Still, The Iliad and The Odyssey were badass. So thanks for those, Homer, or the multiple people who actually wrote them.
As usual, thanks to Ryan VanderVenter, Missy Goldsmith, and Susan Murray, who continue to read everything I write even though they’re very busy and are probably pretty annoyed at this point. Thanks to Dan and Kristin, for support and excellent catson-watching. And of course, Dylan Zoerb, for luck.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kendare Blake holds an M.A. in creative writing from Middlesex University in northern London. She lives and writes in Lynnwood, Washington.
www.kendareblake.com
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