“What are you doing?” Cassandra asked.
“Calling the police.”
“Mom. You don’t want to do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because we know a lot of the police. And they’ll all get killed.”
Her mom hesitated with the phone halfway to her ear.
“This isn’t real,” she said, and hung up.
“It is,” Cassandra said softly. “But it’s almost over.”
Her dad squeezed her shoulder.
“I need you to tell us everything,” he said, and she nodded. There was fear in her mom’s eyes, but not fear of her. It would be all right. Cassandra looked into the driveway, where the Mustang usually sat.
Henry. Always the peacemaker.
26
NEW VS. OLD
Hermes texted Henry before he got to school, so Henry headed for McDonald’s and looped back around toward Athena’s house. He hadn’t figured on going to many classes anyway.
“Henry.” Odysseus sat up when he walked in. “What’re you doing here?”
He held up a greasy paper bag. “Egg McMuffins.” He held up another bag. “Pancakes and hash browns. Hermes texted. When did he wake up?”
“Last night.”
“Where is he?”
Odysseus’ face darkened. “We moved him to his room so he’d be more comfortable. And less underfoot.” He smiled sadly. “You’ve never seen a worse patient. He’s lobbying for one of those little bells.”
“I thought he might be … up and around.”
Odysseus shook his head. Hermes would never be up and around again.
“Can I go in?” Henry asked. “Or is Athena there?”
“Athena’s out back, waiting for Ares to get home with the mutt.” Odysseus cocked his head. “You surprised me last night, when you helped him. I mean, I know you’ve got a soft spot for four-legs, but that same four-leg put you and your dog in the hospital this winter.”
“I guess saving my parents’ lives goes a long way.”
Odysseus nodded. “Guess so.”
Henry walked down the hall, trying to decide what face to wear when he saw Hermes. How happy was too happy, and too hopeful of recovery? How sad was too sad, and insulting about the way he looked?
“Don’t bother knocking, just get those bags in here,” Hermes called. “I’ve been smelling that greasy wonderful crap since the minute you walked through the front door.”
Henry walked in, holding up the bags like Santa’s sacks, and Hermes held his arms out eagerly, all bones. The god in the bed was a skeleton with stretched-out skin. He looked so weak. It made Henry second-guess the favor he’d come to ask.
“You’re a godsend,” Hermes said, and tore into the first McMuffin. He’d asked for a variety pack of sausage and egg, and Henry had taken the liberty of sneaking in a few bacon, egg, and cheese biscuits. “Are you hungry? Do you want half a hash brown?”
“No,” Henry said. “I’m fine. Is there anything else you need?”
“Well, you could butter my pancakes.”
“God. Odysseus was right. You’re a terrible patient.” He reached into the bag for a handful of butter packets and a plastic knife.
“I’ve missed you, mortal,” Hermes said. “And your little girlfriend, too.”
“We were here,” Henry said. “We came to see you. You had us worried.”
“I should have been the one worried,” Hermes said. His chewing slowed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when Achilles came. I looked after you well enough until you really needed looking after. Then I passed out.”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“Maybe not.” Hermes shrugged. “But nothing ever seems to be. Not my fault, and not my doing. I wasn’t the one who brought our sisters home. Or got us out of Hephaestus’ house. Or even got you that fine shield. You did that. I drove.”
“You can’t think that way,” Henry said. “You did everything we needed you to.”
“I won’t be there,” Hermes said. “I didn’t even make it to the end. You’ll be alone. You and Athena.”