“So the usual, then, plus sesame beef for Athena.”
“How are their chicken wings?” Ares asked, leaning on the open rear hatch. He’d let the wolves out to stretch. Panic and Oblivion loped side by side in the yard, snapping jaws at each other. They looked like dogs, except that when they stretched their necks, their shoulders popped out a bit too wide.
“Find somewhere else to eat,” Hermes snapped.
“Hermes. Get him some chicken wings.” Athena stood in front of her house and breathed in deep. Spring had sprung. The yard smelled of loamy earth and wet roads and bands of warmth woven between layers of chilly air.
Henry and Andie got out of the Mustang and stretched their weary limbs. The Mustang was many things, but it wasn’t roomy, and Henry had been cramped in the backseat the entire ride with the shield across his lap. It took a minute to wrangle it out of the car, and when he got it loose, it slipped from his fingers and clanged onto the driveway to wobble like a fallen top.
Athena frowned. She knew Henry was tired and unused to the feel of it, but watching him fumble still felt like a bad omen. She walked over, toed the shield, and flipped it up into her hand like a skateboard. The Shield of Achilles. It hadn’t aged much since she’d last seen it. Hephaestus must have taken it out of the world of men as soon as Achilles’ line died out. She squeezed the edges to test the metal, to see if she could bend it. But of course she couldn’t. And she shouldn’t want to. The Shield of Achilles was a formidable asset. The metal taco shell of Achilles didn’t have the same ring.
Besides, it’s Henry’s now. He claimed it, fair and square.
She wished she’d been there to see him do it.
“You’ll train him with this?” Andie asked, and nudged the edge of the shield.
Train him. How could she train him? So they could start right back where they’d been? So she could use them up again, and run them headlong into impossible odds?
Athena shook her head slightly, and tilted the shield into Andie’s hands. The mortals’ lives weren’t hers to play with.
“Are you and Henry—?” Athena gestured with her eyes and kept her voice low, cloaked by a light breeze and Ares’ wolves snarling.
Andie’s cheeks went rust.
Athena snorted. “Good.”
“Are you and Odysseus?” Andie asked. She arched her brow and made the same gesture with her eyes. Neither excelled at girl talk. “I mean, you jumped off a mountain for him, so, the cat’s out of the bag on feelings.”
Yes. Feelings. Except feelings didn’t change what was.
“I just know I couldn’t let him go,” Athena said. “And I still can’t.”
Odysseus caught her eye and smiled. He looked different to her now. Fragile. The untouchable hero of her memory was gone, and maybe he’d only been a delusion to begin with. Or maybe it only felt that way because she’d lost the power to protect him.
“I still don’t understand how you’re not dead,” Andie said to Odysseus.
“The banks of the underworld kept me in limbo after we jumped off Olympus,” Odysseus replied. “And then good old Ares showed up with magic beans. Water from one of the rivers of Olympus. It let me heal. Brought me back.”
“Did he piss in the bottle first?” Henry muttered.
Hermes snorted, but Ares laughed full force, with just a bit too much wicked mirth in it. Odysseus turned faintly green.
“Hope you don’t mind if we take off,” Andie said. “It’s been a long trip. We want to get home. Henry, you should probably leave that.”
Henry had been holding the shield, and looked disappointed to have to let it go. But it would be a lot to explain, and impossible to sneak in under his shirt.
“We’ll take care of it. Until you come to train.”
As he backed out of the driveway, Henry waved. Just a little wave, and no smile. Athena waved back. Something had changed while she’d been gone. Henry had finally thawed to them.
Well. Maybe not to all of us.
Ares stood alone, his good hand stuffed into his pocket, studying the house. She thought he’d sneer at its lack of grandeur, but he didn’t. Maybe he was too tired. Whatever it was, the expression he wore took her a moment to place. He looked at the house like he wanted one. Like he wished it was his. Or at least he did until he caught her looking.
“The wolves and I will take the basement,” he said.
“You’ll take whatever I give you,” she said. And that means somewhere you can be watched.
18