“Artemis first,” Athena said. “What happened with the maps?”
“She says Artemis is somewhere in the Malaysian rain forest.”
The Malaysian rain forest. So far away. Again. But their sister had to be found and saved. Artemis was clever, and a skilled hunter. Coolly indifferent, and quicker to rage than Athena, but so very protective of those she pledged to. She would make a fine soldier. She would avenge Aidan beside Cassandra, and that would be fitting.
“I’ll shower, get a few hours’ sleep, and repack for the climate. How fast do you think I can get a flight connecting to Kuala Lumpur?”
“Not so fast,” said Odysseus. “You just got here. Why not let Hermes and me go?”
“I—”
“It’ll do him good to roam out of Kincade a bit. And me. We’re not children, you know.”
“Please. When have I ever treated you like a child?” But she had, she supposed. In the old days. Odysseus had been her favorite, and she’d guarded him like treasure.
What will happen to you if I fail, hero? What will your destiny be, if I’m not around anymore to guide it?
She touched his face, and he grabbed her hand. Dried blood capped her index finger, where a feather had burst through on the return journey and torn most of the nail away.
“It’s nothing,” she said, as Odysseus dragged it under the kitchen light. “It barely stings anymore.”
“Are there others?”
“None that I can feel. Not now.”
“Not yet,” he said.
“Don’t worry about me.” She tugged her hand away. “Worry about Hermes. He’s fading, and hurting worse than a cracked fingernail.” She paused. “I don’t know if it’s the best idea. The two of you going off on your own. To the middle of nowhere.”
“It’s a better idea than you going off again,” he said. “You’re away from Cassandra too much, Athena. You should know better than to leave your primary weapon unguarded for so long.”
He had a point. The girl who killed gods was no secret. Every former immortal who didn’t hold Athena’s favor would try to eliminate Cassandra, that is if they couldn’t convince her to jump into their pockets instead.
“Speaking of weapons,” Athena said. “When are you going to tell me where Achilles is?”
“Never,” he said. “You said he was no use to anyone, and you were right. He’s my friend, but he follows his own mind. He’s better off hidden.”
“Someone else could find him.”
“They won’t.”
“Tell me where he is.”
His expression grew wary. She ought to lie. It would be easier if she lied. But she couldn’t. Not to Odysseus.
“I don’t want to use him,” she said. “I want to kill him.”
He didn’t look away, or say she wasn’t serious. It didn’t even seem to surprise him that much.
“I’ll never tell you,” he said.
“He was the weapon Hera sought. Now that she’s dead, others will seek him. Maybe even Aphrodite. He might lead us straight to Cassandra’s vengeance.”
For several beats of her heart, Odysseus stayed silent. “What are you up to?”
“The only thing I’m ever up to,” Athena replied. “War.”
*
“Hey.”
Cassandra blinked at the suds on the end of her nose. Her mother had just flicked soap into her face. Almost into her eyes. Her own mother.
“The water’s getting cold, space cadet.”
“No one uses the word ‘cadet’ anymore.” She wiped the bubbles off on her shoulder. “They’re astronauts. Get with the space program.”
“Well. Aren’t we clever today.” Her mom smiled. Cassandra knew that smile. It always showed up right before someone asked whether she was okay. But she seemed okay. Up to her elbows in lemon-scented dish soap or dutifully taking notes in class. Slogging her way through the million details that made up every single stupid day.
“How are you today, sweetheart?”
No one’s eyes never stayed on her face when they asked. Except for maybe Odysseus’. Athena’s would, too, if she ever bothered to inquire.
“My fingers are pruny.”