She dodged the next strike, meant to bust into her rib cage, and kicked out, but what should have dropped him only knocked him backward. Not even off-balance. And he still wasn’t afraid. The light in his eyes was the same mad light she’d seen on the battlefield in Troy. Hector must’ve been terrified, looking into them.
She caught Achilles by the arm and threw him around her in a circle. He rolled to his feet unharmed, and so damned fast. He sprang forward and struck, his fist against her jaw. The clack of her teeth was loud and embarrassing. But he’d overplayed his hand. She reached around the back of his head and threw him to the ground, on him before he could regain his feet, her one good arm wrapped around his head. With brutal grace, she snapped his neck.
The body slumped to the side and rolled onto its back. Odysseus shouted, and the clearing went silent. It was over. Athena rose and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see the body, or Odysseus’ face. But when he tried to go past her, she caught him across the chest.
“I knew you would do it,” he said. “I knew. But I didn’t believe it.” He threw her arm off and turned back the way they’d come.
“Where are you going?”
“To get a shovel. To bury him.”
“I don’t have any shovels, actually.”
Athena spun around at the impossible voice. Achilles’ head rolled toward her and smiled.
“I broke the last one digging that bloody pit,” he said. “Haven’t made it down to buy any replacements.” He pushed himself up onto his elbows and twisted his neck. Broken bones popped back together with a hideous sound. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”
“I broke your neck,” Athena said.
He shrugged. “Been broken before.”
She looked at Odysseus, but he hadn’t known. His eyes were round as one of her owls’. Achilles stood up and dusted himself off, none the worse for wear. He didn’t even seem angry. The way his green eyes flickered from Athena to Odysseus, he seemed mostly embarrassed to have been killed. Except he hadn’t died.
“You still are what you were,” Athena said softly.
Invincible.
14
WEAPONS
Odysseus checked Achilles over as if he were assessing a horse. He lifted the boy’s arms and moved his chin back and forth. Another minute, and he’d open his mouth and look at his teeth.
“I don’t believe it,” Odysseus muttered. “You bloody can’t be killed. Unless”—he cocked his head—“what about your heel? Did your mum really dip you headfirst in the Styx and miss that part? If I cut it, would you die?”
Achilles smiled. “The legend’s not that literal. Not quite.”
“So you can be killed,” Athena said. “You’re not immortal.”
“The whole world knows my name,” he said, and shrugged. “If I’m not immortal, I’m damn close.”
“What if I pulled you apart?” she asked.
“What if you could?” He nodded toward her ruined shoulder and foot, then turned back to Odysseus. “What’re you doing here, anyway? Why’s she all … after my hide?”
“Haven’t you heard? You’re the weapon of the gods. Or at least, you’re one of them.” Athena waited while Odysseus filled him in.
“Mm,” Achilles said. “Well, since killing me is out, why don’t I come back with you? Then you’d have both weapons instead of one.” He cocked his eyebrow at Athena. “Might’ve saved us all a broken neck if you’d just asked that in the first place.”
Athena glowered. Since killing him was out. What a thing to assume. But she was in no condition to try again. And the idea of Achilles dying and popping up over and over like some macabre prairie dog was just too awful.
Her eyes took in his wild blond hair and gray-blue t-shirt. He was built sort of like Henry, with broad, muscular shoulders and fast, narrow hips. But he was taller. And much more lethal.
“I would have been content to stay on the mountain,” said Achilles. “But you found me. And this is what I was made for. So make your choice, goddess. The side who has me lives forever.”
“He’ll be a help, I promise,” said Odysseus.
Athena sighed. “Shit.” Was he going to promise to feed and walk him next? “Fine. Never let it be said I’m not flexible.” He would come back to Kincade. And they could use Hera’s own weapon to cut her throat.