Mortal Gods - Page 68/112


Hermes lowered his phone in the middle of dialing Stanley’s Wok. “You’re disgusting. How many orders of chicken wings should I get?”

“Four. And get extra egg rolls for Cassandra. Sesame beef sounds good. Maybe pork skewers with lemon and vegetables.”

“Got it.” Hermes dialed. “The left half of the menu and extra egg rolls.”

Athena listened to the first few minutes of the order before zoning out. Stanley’s Wok would be in a rough spot in a few weeks, after Hermes was healed and had no more use for double orders of Double Happiness. Oh well. All good things came to an end. She glanced at the digital clock on the microwave. Almost time for the others to arrive.

“Keep them apart,” she said.

“Keep who apart?” Hermes asked, clicking off with Mr. Hong.

“You know who. Achilles and Henry. I don’t want them fighting each other. Not ever.”

Hermes glanced out the window at the beast in the backyard. “It wouldn’t be much of a fight.”

By the time Odysseus, Cassandra, Andie, and Henry arrived, the food had been delivered. Of the four, only Odysseus filled his plate. The others picked at chicken wings and took tiny scoops of rice, afraid to train on full stomachs.

Across the table, Achilles ate most of the sesame beef.

“Dinner break’s over,” said Athena. She clapped her hands and got them up. “Back outside. Hermes, take Achilles again.”

“Come on, are you serious?” he moaned.

“Don’t whine. You’re the one who can make him faster. He’s more use to us if he learns not to take so much damage.” Both muttered as they went out, Achilles about being glad to be of use and Hermes about what damage? But they both went. Calypso and Odysseus took Andie. Athena stepped subtly in front of Henry.

“You,” she said. “You’re the one I want.”

“Me?” Henry asked. “Why me?”

“Because I want to see what you can do. You’re here, when your other Trojan brothers aren’t. There must be a reason.”

Henry swallowed. “What, am I supposed to be honored or something?”

“Cut the attitude.” She reached down, scooped up a b?, and tossed it into his chest. “Makes you sound like a boy, instead of a hero.”

“I am a boy,” he said. He adjusted the b? in his hands and held it like a long spear. Yeah, he was a boy, all right. But he was a boy-hero. She mock charged him, and he used the end to pop her in the chest. He glanced at Achilles.

“Don’t be distracted,” Athena said. “Not by your hatred of him. Or your dislike of me.”

“That’s not it. I mean, I do dislike you. Him, I don’t even know. Not really.”

“So what is it?” she asked.

“I don’t want him to think of me as Hector,” Henry said. “I don’t want him to decide he wants a rematch. Maybe you think that’s cowardly.”

Achilles hadn’t stopped watching since Henry touched the b?.

“I think that’s sensible,” she said, “in a way that Hector of Troy never was. But, Henry, your remembering how to fight won’t make him think of you as Hector any more than he already does.” How could it, when Henry already looked exactly like Hector, from his height, to his stance, to his black hair and careful eyes?

“How do you know?” he asked.

“Because he’s trying,” she said. “He not the way he used to be. Consumed by glory and the hunt for immortality. Blinded by loss. It took a lot for him to not tear your head off in the kitchen that first night. But he didn’t.”

“Well, bully for him.”

“Come on, Henry. It’s a start. Now try to hit me in the face.”

He exhaled and narrowed his eyes in concentration. But he didn’t hesitate. She didn’t know how to take that. The b? whirred past her left ear as she dodged.

“Again,” she said, and he moved to strike. His body knew where to put its feet. His arms knew when to tense and when to give. “Keep at it. Show me how much you hate me. Hit me!”

He moved laterally and whacked her across the hip.

“I never said I hated you,” he said, and went for her head again. “I don’t.”

“I know,” she said.

“How do you know?”

“Easy.” She grabbed the b? and shoved him back hard enough to roll him through the damp grass. “Because you let me pet your dog.”

Henry regained his feet and smiled, just a little. When he came at her again she couldn’t help being impressed. He was steady and strong. But it didn’t matter how fast he learned or how much he remembered.