“Enough,” Athena said, glaring at Odysseus. The nerve. The balls. She’d have been impressed if it didn’t piss her off so much. “We go, and we go now.”
“Athena,” said Hermes quietly, “you don’t need to go so fast.”
His collarbones peeked out of his shirt. The fever radiated off him from across the circle.
“Don’t you say that to me,” she said. “You know I do.” Her mouth twitched downward. “I shouldn’t have taken so long … it feels late already.”
“Athena—”
“Save your breath, Ody,” Cassandra said. “It doesn’t matter that we have no plan. She doesn’t think we need one.” Her fingers twitched into fists. “Honestly, I don’t think we do, either.”
“Finally,” Athena said. “The oracle says something I know is true.”
“You really think we can win?” Odysseus asked.
As an answer, Achilles drew a hidden sword from behind his back. He swung hard, and the stone statue of Hera fell, cleaved clean in two.
22
THE SPACE THAT GODS INHABIT
“Olympus can be reached from the mouth of any cave. Just like the underworld can be reached from any lake or river.”
“There’s a … cave … up at the state park,” Andie said. Her face was white as a sheet. “We went camping up there sometimes before my dad left. And I can’t believe I’m saying anything to help you.” She looked at Henry like she was nuts, and he offered no arguments. “It’s not very big,” she said.
“It won’t matter. It’ll do. Thank you, Andie.”
“No problem. I guess.”
“So,” Henry said, “all caves lead to Olympus? How come nobody’s ever accidentally spelunked into it, then?”
“All caves lead to Olympus for gods,” Hermes replied. “As all bodies of water lead to the underworld for us. At least, when Olympus and the underworld exist.”
Cassandra could barely believe it. Olympus. The underworld. Unreal places made real, as if she could look out her bedroom window and see a floating castle in a cloud. As if she could look into the river at Abbott Park and see Aidan waving up at her. Her brows knit as she realized. If Olympus had returned, perhaps the way to the underworld had opened as well.
Sudden hope ignited in her chest.
“The underworld,” she said. “Has it returned with Olympus?”
Athena and Hermes traded an uneasy glance.
“If we can get to Olympus, can we get there, too?”
“I don’t know,” Athena said.
“Bullshit.”
“I really don’t,” Athena said gently. “I suppose it’s possible.” She took a deep breath. “I know why you’re asking.”
“Take me there.”
“Cassandra—”
“Look,” Cassandra said, doing her best to keep from trembling, “I’m not mad, okay? I know you couldn’t before, you didn’t know. Maybe it wasn’t even possible before.” But it was possible now. She knew the legends. The myths. Orpheus and Eurydice. The Cyclops being freed. Freed. You could pull someone out of the underworld if you loved them and had a god or two on your side. She’d sing Aidan out of that hole if she had to do it belting “The Star-Spangled Banner.” And she wouldn’t be a fool and look back too soon.
“A trip like that,” Athena said, “we don’t know how long it would take.”
“Don’t you want him back?” Cassandra goaded. “Don’t you want another soldier to help keep the mortals alive on that mountain?”
Athena gritted her teeth.
“We don’t have time.”
“Time? What are you talking about? Olympus isn’t going anywhere, is it?” Cassandra dug her nails into her palms. Nobody said a word. Andie held tight to Henry’s arm. Achilles and Calypso barely blinked. Even Odysseus, the great butter-inner, remained silent, curious to see how it played out. Or maybe he was as crazily hopeful as she suddenly was. That she could have him back.
Athena looked nearly ready to pop when Hermes pulled her close and whispered into her ear.
“No,” she said softly. “You can’t wait.”
“I can. I promise I can. And if it might be possible?”