Athena swallowed. Some of them would fight for exactly that reason. Dying wasn’t something gods understood. It certainly wasn’t something many would do well.

“You’ll kill each other now, because you can. What was impossible is now possible. And if that wasn’t reason enough to try, you are the Titan’s children. You’ll kill each other. Consume each other, to survive.”

The skin shifted softly from side to side. It took Athena a moment to realize that it was Demeter settling into the dirt, ruffling her skin like she was pleased with herself and ready to drift back to whatever sleep she had, stretched across the desert.

“Go and find the Oracle,” the tired voice of Demeter said, drifting off. “If you can, and if she’ll help you, after what you did to her. You three. But maybe you’ll be lucky, and she’ll hate the others more than she still hates you.”

“Enough riddles. Who is the Oracle? What can she do?” Hermes stomped his foot and Demeter gave an “Oof!” Athena gave Hermes a stern look. It was rude to stomp your aunt, no matter how dire the situation.

“The Oracle is a prophetess. Find her. Make her remember, and she’ll be much more than that.” The eye fluttered shut.

“You won’t help,” Athena whispered.

“Do I look like I’m in any position to help?” Demeter snapped, and the skin coiled back to attention. “And you, with your whore’s jewelry and pathetic knife. Are you in any position to fight?”

Athena walked to the eye and knelt. Gently, she placed her palm above the lid, and the tired eye drifted shut. “Perhaps not yet. But I will be soon.”

3

THE CALM BREAKS

Abbott Park sat in the middle of the Spirit River Nature Preserve, an oblong strip of green land slowly yellowing its way to autumn brown. It was mid-October, and Kincade, New York, had already had a few hard freezes, just enough to make everything feel brittle and solid. Cassandra, Aidan, and Andie huddled on the outer edge of the fire circle, atop the remains of the low stone wall that seemed to begin and end at random, dotting the border of the park like an uneven stitch.

“You spread the word well,” Cassandra said, watching forty to fifty of their classmates mill around the three fire pits in the park. “Almost as well as if the word was ‘legs’.” She blinked and laughed, breath leaving her throat in a thin cloud. After a surprised pause, Andie and Aidan laughed back.

“Are you drunk?” Andie asked.

“No.” She looked down into her half-empty red plastic cup. The beer inside had gone sad and flat a half hour ago. “Sorry. I’m just tired.” Tired, and working on a headache. Some people had managed to get a few cars down the Jeep trail the DNR used and were blaring music out the windows. Not everyone agreed on the choice, and Muse competed with Florence + the Machine. The result was just a whole lot of shrill.

“It’s probably all the studying.” Andie bent her knee up and dug her boot into the edge of the wall, her arms folded over it. There was more than a little disdain in her voice. “I don’t know what your effing hurry is. College is two years away, and all it means is the end of us.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Shut up.” Andie pulled down on her tan corduroy jockey cap like it could obscure her reluctant grin. “I’m not even drinking. The greenhouse is closing up for winter. They want me to go in early tomorrow to help out.”

“Cheers to your last day of work.” Aidan raised his cup.

“Cheers to the end of paychecks, trust-fund boy.” Andie smiled. Cassandra smiled too. She’d always thought it was strange that a girl who never noticed pretty flowers would want to spend all summer potting and pruning in a greenhouse. Until Andie explained that she got to move saplings and haul around dirt.

“You know, you could always go to college near us,” Aidan said. “Or with us.”

Andie huffed, and tugged her red wool coat tighter around herself.

“With my grades, the only way I’m going to college is with a hockey scholarship. So I’ll probably wind up in one of the Dakotas.”

Cassandra and Aidan looked at each other and suppressed smiles. The night was getting colder. Around them the party was tightening up. Groups increased in number and clustered closer together. Cassandra watched moving lips, flashes of white teeth, and cheeks made gaunt by the firelight. She caught the eye of one of the freshmen from lunch, the one with the mop of brown hair. He smiled and nodded; she nodded back. Even in the orange glow she could see that the tips of his nose and cheeks were rosy. She leaned back into Aidan. With his arms wrapped around her, she was nowhere near cold.