(YOU ARE WHAT YOU ALWAYS WERE. KILLER OF MEN. KILLER OF HEROES. SHOW US. SHOW US)

Achilles looked down, dazed, at the sword in his hand. Athena didn’t even have time to scream before he turned and threw it.

But Cassandra did. Cassandra, and Andie, and Hermes, they all screamed and moved toward Henry. Only Henry wasn’t the target.

Athena’s heart beat once. The sword caught Odysseus in the chest, and came out his back.

*   *   *

Calypso screamed. Everyone screamed. Blood soaked into Odysseus’ hands and dripped from his lips.

Inside Athena’s head, the world slowed to a crawl. Wolves snarled. Calypso fell to her knees and tore at her cheeks. Someone shouted Athena’s name.

“No,” she said.

Odysseus slid to his knees, and something inside of her snapped. Everything else fell away: Hermes crouching low and fighting off attacking wolves with Andie and Henry stabbing spears beside him, Cassandra turning her murderous eyes back on the gods. None of it meant anything. Only Odysseus’ blood, and his fading heartbeat, mattered.

Athena sprang away from Hera, away from Cassandra. She crossed the room in three strides and pulled him into her arms.

“Odysseus.”

I love you.

“Athena!” Hermes shouted, and for an instant the world returned: a vulgar clash of metal and claws, screams and hateful laughter. She pressed Odysseus tightly to her chest.

“No,” she said.

Athena ran to the open wall of columns and leaped out. She dove and took him with her, straight down the sheer face of Olympus.

*   *   *

Athena jumped. She jumped.

It was all Hermes could think. He stared with his mouth hanging open at the empty space where his sister had just been. Then Andie screamed, as Oblivion raked its claws down her back.

“Andie,” he whispered. He turned and kicked, and Oblivion crashed into a wall. The Moirae screeched in his head, in all their heads. Ares moved toward Henry, and Hermes flashed forward and punched him in the face. It wasn’t much, but it gave him enough time to yank Henry out of the way.

It wouldn’t work for long. Hermes had to get them out of the mountain. Out of this horrible trap.

“Cassandra!” he shouted, but she paid no attention. She was murderous, furious over Odysseus, screaming that she’d kill Achilles, too, for what he’d done. But she crept closer and closer to Hera.

“Ares!” Hera screamed. “Atropos, please! Keep her from me!”

Ares turned, but Cassandra was already too close. Atropos, Clotho, and Lachesis did nothing, safe behind their Achilles shield.

“Get away from me!” Hera shouted and clambered backward. “Ares! Aphrodite!”

“Mother!” Aphrodite shrieked, but Ares held her by the arm.

“It’s too late,” he said.

He was right. It was too late. Hermes felt heat off Cassandra all the way across the room, and Hera started to stiffen and shudder before the girl even touched her. Ares shoved Aphrodite against a wall and started forward, calling to his mother.

Henry stepped bravely and stupidly into his path.

“Hurry, Cassandra!” he yelled. “Do it!”

“No, damn it!” Hermes hissed. “Henry, you idiot!” He moved to tug the boy back, but Panic leaped for Andie, making him grab her and spin her out of the way. The wetness of the blood soaking her shirt made his stomach lurch, but she landed solidly and thrust her spear through Pain as it came for her hamstrings. The weight of its falling body pulled the spear from her hands, but it didn’t matter. Pain was down and dying in a stinking heap.

Hermes’ eyes twitched from scene to scene: one more dead wolf, Ares seconds away from turning Henry into a splat on the wall, and Calypso on her knees, weeping, oblivious to Aphrodite, who drew closer with an eager expression.

“Too much, too fast, even for me,” he muttered. He grabbed a brazier and threw it at Aphrodite. Hot metal and orange coals bashed into her chest. She screamed, and her dress caught fire. Ares forgot all about Henry and ran to her rescue.

“Two birds with one brazier. Finally, some progress.”

But not enough. They had to go.

“Cassandra, we have to get out of here! Cassandra!”

“No! Not yet. Not now.” She dodged Hera’s arm, and Hermes winced. Even a glancing blow would turn Cassandra’s head to pudding. But Cassandra ducked low. One of her hands trailed along the underside of Hera’s arm, and it hit the floor with a solid thump, granite clear up to the shoulder.

“My god,” he breathed. It was so fast. So incredibly lethal.