“So,” Cassandra said. “If Henry dies, and is brought back, he’ll have more than just his memories? I thought it was just me and Achilles.”

“So did I,” Athena said. “Odysseus hid his strength from us, and not even your ability to kill gods was apparent right away.”

She met Cassandra’s eyes and saw the smolder there, the readiness to jump in front of Henry if Athena made the slightest move. Athena shook her head.

“I did hide it,” said Odysseus. “So who told?” He looked at Athena, but Ares straightened.

“I did,” Ares declared. “I figured it out.” He punched Athena in the arm. “And you always said I was stupid.”

“Ares,” Odysseus muttered. “You dick.”

“They had a right to know,” Ares said. “To choose. And this one’s chosen, so someone choke him out and bring back Hector. We could use him.”

“Athena,” Odysseus said. “Say something.”

“It’s Henry’s choice,” Athena said, and looked around at them. “Your choice, if you want to fight at all. Your choice what to do.” She swallowed hard. It still wasn’t easy to say. “I’m not your leader. I never was. You don’t need us. We needed you.”

“She’s right,” Cassandra said. “We are the weapons here. Me against Atropos. Hector against Achilles. It won’t be for the gods to tell us what to do.” She nodded to Athena. “We’ll wait for the vision from Clotho and Lachesis. And then we’ll decide.”

27

THE LAST VISION

Cassandra and her parents sat in the kitchen, like troops awaiting orders. Soldiers sitting in a U-boat, ears strained toward the first sounds of exploding shells.

Upstairs, Henry blasted music. He’d locked himself and Lux in his room after he’d explained to their parents for an hour how and why he had Hermes try to squeeze the life out of him.

“Like watching a pot try to boil,” Thanatos said from the doorway. “Take a walk with me?”

“It’s not like a walk is going to free anything up,” Cassandra said, but went out with him anyway, into the faded light of early evening. “I’m not giving birth. It’ll come when it comes.” But it would be soon. She knew it the same way she knew what side a coin would fall on.

They walked companionably down the block together. The sky was clear and still. There was no breeze.

“Let Athena take your place,” Thanatos said.

“No.”

“You won’t be you, after it’s over. You’ll be gone.”

“So they say,” Cassandra muttered, and kicked a pebble.

“You’re acting like a stupid kid.”

“I am what they think I am,” she said. “What they created. I can’t let someone take that fate for me. Not even Athena. Besides, I owe Odysseus. A girlfriend for a girlfriend.” Cassandra closed her eyes and thought of Calypso’s face.

“Why?” Thanatos asked. “Why do you want to be a Moira?”

“It’s not that I want to be one,” she said. “I already am one.”

The Cassandra that used to be, before the gods descended like locusts, felt so far away she might as well have made her up. That was another girl. Aidan was gone and she was, too.

“How do you even know you’ll be able to do it?” Thanatos asked. “That you’ll be able to call up your power? Since you lost control with Ares, you haven’t been the same.”

He stopped her, took her by the arm. His fingers were so cold, even through her shirt.

“It didn’t feel bad,” she said, “to join with them. It didn’t hurt.” She squeezed her eyes shut.

She was stronger. In control. She could hold her power between her fingers as if it were a candle.

“Isn’t this what you wanted me to find, when we met?” Cassandra asked. “Control? Balance? To bring death from someplace other than a place of hate?”

“I didn’t want you to find it right before you disappear,” Thanatos whispered. He touched her cheek, knuckles cool against her skin.

Cassandra looked into his black eyes. He was different from Aidan in every way. Perhaps that made it easier to like him. He would never be a replacement.

“I used to think I was angry at the gods,” she said. “But I was just angry. Angry at Apollo for painting a target on my back. Angry at Aidan for being gone.”

“You still love Apollo,” Thanatos said.

Aidan. Apollo. He couldn’t undo the past, but he’d tried to make up for it.