“What’s wrong with that?” Andie asked. “Eliminate the weapon. Makes sense to me. If we can’t use him, neither can they.” Across the kitchen, Athena stifled a smile. “Let’s vote on it.”
“We’re not going to vote on it,” Odysseus said. “It wouldn’t be fair. Hermes votes with his sister.” Hermes shrugged. It was true enough. “And we know which way she’d vote.”
“So the gods won’t vote.” Andie looked around the table at Cassandra, Henry, Calypso, and Odysseus. “Who votes for letting Achilles stay hidden?”
Odysseus raised his hand. Calypso raised hers.
“And who votes for killing him?” Andie asked, and raised her hand. Cassandra raised hers as well. Both looked at Henry, who drew his brows together and clenched his jaw.
“Who votes for killing him?” Andie asked again. “Who votes for killing Achilles, the monster who jammed a spear through Henry and dragged him around Troy behind his chariot.” She narrowed her eyes. “And fed him to his dogs. Henry, so help me, if you don’t get your good hand up I will re-kill you myself.”
“Well, Cally’s vote didn’t really count,” Cassandra said. “She might have lost her immortality, but she’s still sort of a god.”
“How cavalier you all sound,” said Odysseus, “talking about killing when you’re not the ones doing it. When you won’t even see the deed done. And also, fuck the vote. When Greece wanted war with Troy, I was the only one who knew where Achilles was, and I was the only one who could convince him to fight. It’s the same now. Nobody gets him without my help.”
Only sooner or later, Ares, or someone like him, would get the answer out of Odysseus. They’d pull it right through his skin if they had to. Cassandra knew it, and from the look on her face, so did Athena.
“I’ve had enough of this.” Athena shoved off the countertop hard enough to rattle the cupboards. “Tell me,” she said. Hermes and Andie scattered from her path, and Henry, too. Even Cassandra stood and backed off a few steps. With stony focus, Athena upended their empty chairs and dashed them against the walls. She flipped the table from under Odysseus’ arms, and he stood to meet her nose to nose. The room held its collective breath. She would never hurt him. But she made a damn good show of it.
“No more special treatment, hero,” she said. “I asked nicely. I won’t do it twice.”
“Do what you have to do, love,” he said softly. “I’ll tell you I’m sorry as many times as you like. That I didn’t mean for us to be here, like this.” He gestured subtly toward Calypso, but not so subtly that Calypso didn’t notice, and her face fell. It wasn’t helping, either. If anything, it made Athena angrier.
“Just tell her,” Hermes said, a little nervously. “She’ll get her way in the end.”
“Can’t do that,” said Odysseus.
“I don’t see what the big deal is,” said Henry. “He’s just one person.”
“That’s what everyone says,” Hermes replied. “Until their city burns. That’s what you said, Hector. That’s probably what you thought, right until he killed you.”
Henry set his jaw. “Is that really how it was? They said Hector was the best in all of Troy.”
“The best,” Hermes agreed. “And Achilles killed you without breaking a sweat.”
“Everyone shut up,” Athena shouted. She wrapped her fist around Odysseus’ shirt, to shove him or throw him. “Tell me where he is.”
“Let go,” Calypso said. She stood calmly and smoothed her clothes. “You don’t need to harm Odysseus. I’ll tell you where he is.”
“Cally, don’t,” Odysseus started, but Athena shushed him with a jerk of her head.
“How do you know where he is?” she asked.
“I know because I was there, with Ody. Really, I am the one who hid him.”
Athena dropped Odysseus like a hot biscuit and stared at Calypso.
“Come with me.”
Odysseus almost followed them into the backyard, but there was little point. Beans were spilling. He swore and stalked past Cassandra.
“Where are you going?”