“It doesn’t seem right,” he said. “This small marker when he used to have temples.”
“We should have brought wine,” Calypso agreed. “To pour out a proper libation.”
Achilles gestured to the bottle in Cassandra’s hands. “Maybe he accepts libations of vitamin water now.”
Libations. Godly talk from a godly hero and a nymph. They didn’t really know whose grave they stood at. They didn’t know Aidan at all.
“Stop it,” Cassandra said. “He’s not a god. He doesn’t accept offerings of anything anymore.”
Achilles stuffed his hands into his pockets.
“You should have come another time,” Calypso whispered to him.
“I wasn’t sure what the right thing was,” he said. “What seemed more respectful. To come when she was here, to show I cared—”
“You don’t care,” Cassandra said. “Everyone else is fooled by you, but not me. Even though they know I’m the prophet, no one listens. My curse is still at work all these years later. You’d think I’d be used to it.”
“I don’t blame you,” Achilles said. “My face is the face you remember killing your brother. Just like Henry’s is the one I remember killing Patroclus.”
“You didn’t—” she said, and shut her mouth. She’d been about to say, You didn’t actually see that, but she stopped herself. That was an assy thing to say, even to Achilles.
“We only do what the Fates ask of us, princess,” he said. “You and me both.”
“Don’t put us in the same sent—” she said, and Calypso screamed.
Cassandra barely had time to whirl before the black wolf sprang and took Calypso down to the ground. Then Achilles had Cassandra around the waist, half-dragging and half-carrying her through the cemetery.
“Stop,” she shouted. “Let go!” She pushed at his hands, but he might as well have been made of steel for all the good it did. The ground whipped by so fast. They were beside the family Jeep in less than a minute.
“What was that?” she asked. “Cally…” She remembered a flat sound as Calypso had collapsed: her head striking Aidan’s gravestone. “You have to go help her!”
“I can’t leave you,” Achilles said. Snarls echoed through the cemetery. Calypso shrieked. “That was one of Ares’ wolves. Just one. They travel in four.”
“Take me back there, damn it! I stripped Ares’ back down to bones, what do you think I can do to four puppies?” She took a surprised breath. She’d been so angry she’d been screaming through her teeth.
“Shit,” he muttered. “If anything happens to the other weapon…” He took her by the shoulders. “Get in the car and stay there, do you understand? And get Athena here. Now.”
He opened the door and stuffed her inside. She pulled out her phone and texted Athena with trembling fingers.
She peered through the rows of headstones, trying to see Achilles and Calypso. Cally would be okay. The wolves wouldn’t give Achilles any trouble. Even if they managed to kill him, he’d just get back up again.
A few minutes passed. Exactly how long she couldn’t say. She remained in the Jeep, clinging to the steering wheel with hands hot enough to hurt, trying to fight off waves of rage so strong they felt like nausea. And then Achilles jogged through the cemetery with Calypso in his arms.
“Cally,” Cassandra said, and opened her door.
“Stay inside!” Athena shouted through the window of the Dodge as she and Odysseus squealed into the parking lot. She jumped out before the car stopped and pointed at Cassandra with a stern finger.
“Geez!” Cassandra said. “Odysseus, what did you do, drive through yards? I just texted like four minutes ago.”
“Yeah, it was fast,” he said. “Cally, Jesus!” He ran over and took her from Achilles. Blood streaked her jacket and sweater, bright red. The wolves had slashed at her cheeks and bitten her shoulders and hands.
“I’ll heal,” she said, leaning against him. “It won’t scar.”
“Of course it won’t,” Athena said, her voice equal parts comforting and bitter. “The wolves. Where are they?”
“They ran,” Achilles said. “When I threw the white one into a tree.”
“They ran,” Athena said, and grabbed him by the arm. “So we chase.” Without another word, they took off together, and they didn’t stop no matter how loudly Odysseus called.