Cassandra swallowed. He talked so casually of war and strategy.

“Putting it off will only make us weaker.” Athena looked at Cassandra. “And I think she’s the only advantage we’re going to get.”

“What is it that you think I am?” Cassandra asked.

“You’re a weapon.”

Hermes crossed his arms.

“But what sort of weapon? An amped-up prophetess? What use is someone who tells you the boat is sinking when you’re already bailing it out?”

“I don’t know, Hermes. But Hera is afraid we’ll use her. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t go to so much trouble. I thought, maybe, after I made you remember…” She shook her head. “All I know for sure is she’s a link to the Moirae.”

“The Moirae? You mean the Fates?” Cassandra looked at Aidan. “Is that what my visions are? A link to Fate?”

Aidan shrugged. “It’s what we’ve always thought. But the Fates don’t talk to us.”

“Except through me.”

No one responded. They’d already moved past it to the matter at hand, thinking of strategies and contingencies, and not one of them looked like they expected to win.

“I suppose I should watch the waterways,” said Hermes. “Maybe check the river. That’s where Poseidon would come from. Or Nereids, if he sends them on ahead.”

Athena nodded like she was relieved. “I half expected you to refuse, or to go spend one last season in Paris or Rome.”

“Nah. I’ll stay.” When he breathed, the skin over his ribs stretched and the bone of his sternum was visible. “I wouldn’t have been able to run for that much longer anyway.”

Athena put a hand on Hermes’ shoulder. Cassandra watched the bones and tendons shift underneath his shirt. Most of the muscle had been eaten away.

Athena squeezed. “Not everything’s hopeless. If we throw Hera down, you might heal and grow strong again. I might escape this cage of feathers.” She looked at Aidan.

“I don’t think so.” He moved nearer to Cassandra. “If we stay here, and fight her … You saw what she did to those witches in Chicago. Do you even know what she wants? Is she trying to kill her or trying to use her?”

“Does it matter?” Athena asked, and glanced at Cassandra. Cassandra didn’t reply, but had to admit that one didn’t seem more desirable than the other.

“If we stay here, she could level this place.”

“If you leave, she might level it anyway, looking for you.”

Level it. Cassandra held her breath. Her hometown. The house she grew up in, and her family inside it. Everything up until then she’d managed to swallow, even the idea that she was once again just a tool, a toy for immortals to play with. The longer she looked at Athena, the more she disliked her. That reasonable face. That voice, so steady and unruffled. For her, leading battles was a matter of course. Never mind that innocent people would die. Never mind that a whole town might get caught in their stupid cross fire.

She thought of the freshman with the mop of brown hair who had watched her call the coin. She thought of Sam, unsinkable in his stocking cap, and sweet, sort of slutty Megan in her Bo Peep costume. Every one of them had lives, and plans, going on that very minute. And none of them had any idea it was days away from being ruined. That the gods’ mess was going to ruin it all.

“We can’t do this. Not here.” She looked at Aidan. “Our friends are here.”

“It’ll come to this eventually,” Athena said. “You know I’m right. We live or they do.”

“We live or they do,” Cassandra said. “Us or them. But it isn’t us that you mean. It’s you. Just you, and yours. We die so you can live, just like always.”

“That’s not true, Cassandra,” said Odysseus.

“You’re blind,” she growled. “And you.” She turned on Athena. “I’m not helping you. Not here. Maybe not anywhere. I’m getting out of here. And you’d better find a way to tell Hera I’m gone.” The bruises on her throat cut inside like broken glass when she spoke. She had to turn away quickly to hide the tears prickling the corners of her eyes.

“Wait.” Athena reached for Cassandra’s arm. The goddess’s touch sickened her, ignited a heat deep inside her head and in her chest. Her arm trembled. She wanted them out, all of them; she wanted to break them down with her bare hands. The goddess’s grip was iron. Athena had forgotten everything about being soft, or compassionate, or human, if she’d ever known in the first place. Without thinking, Cassandra drew back her free hand and slapped Athena hard across the face. In the half second it took for Athena to recover from the surprise, Aidan got between them.