“How is Hermes?”
Odysseus shifted his weight. It was a strange charade they kept up, an ailing student and his concerned relatives. And it wouldn’t last forever. Someday soon, the truth would come rushing out to knock them all over.
“I thought I heard the car.” Cassandra’s dad returned, less paint-covered but still reeking of chemicals.
“Hey, Mr. Weaver. Working on the armoire?”
“What kind of a question is that?” Henry asked. “He’s always working on the armoire.”
“Except when I’m shuttling your mother from store to store. Let’s go!” They exited in a turpentine-scented cloud. Cassandra’s mom was right. They’d need to crack a window.
“What did she learn?” Cassandra asked. “What about Aphrodite?” A burst of heat jumped quickly into her hands, and she kept them carefully unclenched so Odysseus wouldn’t notice.
Odysseus shrugged. Lux put a paw up on his knee and whined until there was more petting. “Lots of talk but no answers. From what Hermes says about Demeter, we shouldn’t be surprised. I guess she’s all riddles and wrinkly skin. But Athena’s not giving up, Cassandra.”
“She’s not trying hard, either.”
“So what do you need to see us about?” Henry interjected.
“Hermes and I are leaving soon. For the jungle Cassandra showed us in Malaysia. It’ll just be you three and Athena for awhile.”
Cassandra fumed. She should have held the information about Artemis ransom until Athena delivered Aphrodite.
“How long?” she snapped.
“Could be a few weeks. Maybe longer.”
“But what about school?” Henry asked. “They’ll hold you back.”
“It’d be better if they did,” Odysseus said. “I should keep getting held back. I could be in your year, and then Cassandra’s.”
“Well.” Henry shrugged. “Good luck then.” He turned and went back upstairs with his dog. A few seconds later, his door shut, and music turned on.
“I thought he would’ve warmed to us by now,” Odysseus said.
“Really?”
“Well, to me at least.” He walked into the kitchen and pulled out a chair. “Want to come by and see us off?”
Cassandra ground her teeth together. Malaysia wasn’t where they should be going. They should be going after Aphrodite. But even though Cassandra was the god killer, Athena ran the show. Heat flared in Cassandra’s palms, asking to be let out. Sooner or later, it would stop asking and demand.
Odysseus eyed her. She’d been unconsciously flexing her fingers.
“You okay with this?” he asked.
“I suppose,” she said. “Aidan would want me to be.”
“No,” Odysseus said, a little sadly. “Aidan would want you to run. Far, far away. But I’m glad you haven’t.”
“What’s that face for?” Cassandra asked, grudgingly. “Is Athena not well?”
Odysseus sat and put his elbows up on the table, slumped forward like he was exhausted.
“There was only one feather,” he said. “Under her fingernail. She can’t feel any more. Unless she’s lying.”
“I don’t think she’d lie to you,” Cassandra said, and was surprised she said it.
“She would if she thought it was for my own good. And she always thinks she knows what’s for people’s own good. Gods are controlling buggers.”
“Why don’t you just tell her,” Cassandra said quietly. “How you feel.” Even though Athena would break him like a toy. That was what gods did to mortals who loved them.
“She’s not exactly the soul-baring type,” Odysseus replied. “And besides. She knows.”
“She does love you,” Cassandra said. “Only, the way she loves isn’t enough to sustain a rat. You deserve better.”
“You don’t know her like I do.”
“I know that with everything she’s taken from me, she still won’t do me one favor.”
“She’s trying,” Odysseus said.