“Screw that shield. The shield of Achilles. We’ll make a new one. A better one. A shield of Henry.” He winced. Of course, they’d have to give it a better name.
9
DEALS
When Athena woke, it was full dark. It took several blinks just to figure out her eyes were open, and several more to remember what happened. The Ares’ fist–shaped bruise on her jaw helped in that department.
Ares had stopped her from putting Odysseus out of his misery. Why? She’d had the sword in her hand. She’d finally been ready.
The sword. It was gone. She groped the cool, hard sand around her and found nothing. But she heard things. Padded paw steps. Soft yips and sniffing.
Ares’ wolves.
But where was Odysseus? Athena’s throat tightened. If Ares had finished what she’d started— She pushed herself up on her elbows and tested her legs. Her boot heel scraped loudly against the sand.
“Awake already? I must not hit as hard as I used to.”
“Where is he?” Athena got her feet underneath her but remained in a crouch. Ares’ voice hadn’t come from that far away, and her eyes still hadn’t adjusted. She thought she saw a shadow move, and in the distance, the rippling of the river.
“He’s here,” Ares said. “Not far. Come this way.”
She scuttled like a crab, hands in front of her until she felt Odysseus’ arm. He was still warm. Still breathing. She pulled him into her lap as gently as she could, and then sharpened her ears to the dark. Two separate creatures moved. Probably the wolves, but the count didn’t mean much. Ares himself was probably standing stone still, and Oblivion could go days without so much as a twitch.
“What do you want?” she asked.
Ares snorted.
“Always to the point, aren’t you sister? Not a hello. Or a ‘glad to see you’re not dead like your mother.’”
Athena inhaled sharply. Hera was dead? What the hell had happened on Olympus?
“I didn’t know she was dead.”
“That’s right,” Ares said. “I forgot. You jumped over the edge before that part. Before your little assassin made her into a statue. What did you think you were doing bringing her there? Training mortals against us.”
“It’s a war, you idiot,” replied Athena. “We’re trying to kill each other. You take the advantages you can get.” Odysseus lay full across her lap, safe for the moment. Athena kept as much acid out of her voice as she could. Ares was trying to control his formidable temper. Until she knew what it was that he wanted, she would do the same.
“We see eye to eye on that much, at least,” he said.
She felt him move closer, and the air move as he crouched down.
“It’s why I’m here.”
Athena’s ears scanned the dark. After a few moments, she caught the movement of the wolves. One she knew was Panic, because its paws were skittish. The other could have been Famine, or Oblivion. Pain wasn’t there. She’d have been able to smell the blood, and the open sores in its fur.
So two wolves for certain, and possibly three. Plus Ares. But she heard no monsters or beasts fording the river to take chunks from her arms and shear strips of skin from her back. Wherever dear Persephone was, she didn’t seem to be causing any trouble at the moment.
“Who’s with you?” Athena asked.
“Oblivion and Panic. The two wolves who remain. Famine and Pain fell in the fight on Olympus.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Are you?”
“Well, I’m sorrier about them than I am about your mother.”
“You should watch your mouth,” he growled, and he was right. Odysseus lay prone on Athena’s lap, and she was unarmed. Ares probably held the sword, and between him and two wolves, they could take Odysseus apart.
“What do you want, Ares?”
“The same thing you do. To survive.”
“Then why aren’t you back on Olympus, hiding behind the Moirae’s twisted skirts?”
Movement in the dark: a shuffle of feet, a shrug of shoulders; Athena couldn’t tell.
“The Moirae let my mother die.” Ares exhaled hard through his nose, as though he still couldn’t believe it. “They stood by and let that girl murder her. They didn’t defend any of us. Aphrodite was the one who cleared the mountain, and when the water receded and we looked around, they were gone. Disappeared with their new pet.”
Their new pet. Achilles. Athena’s hand trailed over Odysseus’ chest and pressed down on the wound.