“He’ll recover,” Cassandra repeated, and Athena nodded. The way Cassandra stared at her, eyes coated over with tears, jaw clenched down tight to keep from screaming, what else could she say? She needed to believe her. They both did.

“Cassandra.” Aidan held out his hand and Cassandra took it, wincing at the blood. She wiped tears quickly from her cheeks.

“I’m not crying. Your sister’s right; you’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry I scared you. I’m sorry for lots of things.”

“Don’t try to talk.” His hair clung to his forehead, still wet. She pushed it back and rubbed blood off his chin with her thumb. “Athena’s going to stop the bleeding. It’ll be okay.” She looked at Athena. “Aren’t you? You’re going to stop it?”

Athena glanced at the wound, at all the red pulsing out of it. Cassandra’s eyes were desperate, but she kept her voice even and measured, like she didn’t want Aidan to be afraid.

“Here.” Odysseus handed Athena a rolled-up shirt and a bottle of water.

She knelt and gently moved Aidan and Cassandra’s hands away from the wound. The bleeding was bad, spurting slowly through their fingers. It should have slowed. It should be slowing.

“We’ll have to wash this out when we get back to Kincade.” She pressed the shirt against his chest as hard as she could. “And you’ll need to be stitched up. Don’t worry. Odysseus is pretty good at it.”

Aidan barked a short laugh and grimaced. “We can’t go back there. They’ll find Cassandra.”

“Don’t argue with me right now.” Blood soaked through to her fingers. His eyes were glassy. Cassandra held his hand to her chest.

“Don’t argue. And don’t worry about me.” She looked at the blood and again at Athena. “Why isn’t it stopping?”

Athena shook her head helplessly and pressed down harder. She didn’t know what to do. “Take a sip of water,” she said. Aidan tried, but coughed most of it back up.

“I was just yanked under a lake. I’ve had plenty of water today.” Sweat stood out on his forehead in fine dots. His skin is cold. He’s never cold. He’s god of the sun.

“But this isn’t enough,” Hermes whispered. “It shouldn’t be bad enough to—it shouldn’t be able to. I don’t understand.”

“Somebody do something,” Cassandra began to shake. She looked at Athena. “Do something!”

Athena held Aidan’s shoulder.

We all go in our own way. This is Apollo’s way. He’s dying a mortal’s death. Aphrodite killed him and she probably didn’t even know what she was doing.

“It’s not her fault, Cassandra.” Aidan put his hand over Athena’s, over the wound in his chest. “You can’t let anything happen to her, sister. Promise me.”

You’re her protector, not me. Stay. Stay, brother. Don’t go somewhere I can’t find you.

“I promise.” The blood beneath her fingers slowed to a crawl. There simply wasn’t any left to bleed. He looked at Cassandra with such love and such regret, it almost stopped Athena’s heart.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me.” Cassandra kissed his hand. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re immortal. I’ve got my whole life to—”

Athena’s shoulders slumped. She’d felt it pass through her as Cassandra spoke. He was gone. Her fingers clenched into his shirt, tight enough to wring it out.

“No,” Cassandra moaned. Andie took her by the shoulders, but Cassandra looked like she was choking. Like her screams would explode inside her chest.

He can’t be gone. All this life, leaked out onto the pavement.

He was a god. There had to be some way to put it back. Athena wanted to scream, to cry, to crack the earth. Odysseus slid his hand onto the back of her neck. Behind Andie, Henry stared, looking like he was about to be sick.

“Why did this happen, sister?” Hermes asked. But she didn’t know. There were no answers, and the leathery flap of Demeter didn’t come to whisper wisdom into her ear. Apollo was dead. Poseidon was dead. It all felt pointless.

“Poor, idiotic Apollo.” Hera’s voice rolled across the asphalt, deep and mocking. She had come up from behind them, as Athena had known she would. The weight of her strides made the earth tremble.

Hermes stood quickly, his posture like a prey animal. Athena twisted and watched Hera approach. She stopped thirty yards away, arms crossed over her chest.